“I know you’re there.” It said suddenly, and Wren let out a small squeak of alarm. By the river-snakes! Hannke thought, startled.
“Um,” He began, but the creature continued.
“I don’t know what you want from me, and whatever it is, I don't care for the world. But it wouldn’t hurt to have a little chat.”
The creature turned around, and Hannke got a good look at it for the first time.
It was a ferret. Hannke had never seen one before, but he knew those dark, bottomless black eyes from Rowen’s tales of distant places. It was a male ferret, a shade of stone gray with black patches over his eyes and black feet, and a long brown stripe from his forehead to the tip of his tail. He was long, both in body and neck length. His ears were rounded and pricked.
“You’re a ferret!” Hannke gasped without thinking. “But I thought ferrets didn’t live around here.”
“Oh, wow, I’m a ferret!” The creature interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “What an amazing observation!”
Hannke and Wren stared at each other, dumbfounded. This was not the creature they’d been expecting. Oh well, Hannke thought, here goes nothing.
“B-but-I really didn’t think-” Hannke was cut off by the black-faced creature again.
“About that,” He said, whipping his slightly bushy tail side to side. “You’re right that ferrets of my kind aren’t native to this area. But I’m different. I didn’t come here under my own will. I was brought here by humans.”
Humans. The word sent chills down Hannke’s spine, and to his side, Wren shivered. A small part of Hannke’s head was wondering why she hadn’t spoken up yet. But most of him was thinking of what the ferret had said.
Guardian and Moonray had warned him about humans. According to the careful mongoose and the knowing egret, humans were vicious, soulless creatures that preyed on helpless animals and took pleasure bringing endless torture and suffering to them. No animal who disappeared to the humans was ever seen again. Except, perhaps, this ferret.
“It was horrible,” The ferret was saying, sitting down. “They caught me unawares and knocked me out. Then they did all sorts of evil things to me, and I bet they were planning to kill me and roast me over a fire. I got away just in time.”
“They stole you from your home?!?” Wren gasped in horror. “They had no right to do so!” She switched her gaze. “That’s just wrong, isn't it, Hannke?”
But Hannke wasn’t paying attention. He was thinking about what the ferret had said. “Fire?” He asked. “Humans have fire?!?”
The ferret shrugged like it was nothing. “Of course they do. How else do you think they kill so many animals?” He paused, licking his jaws. “Are you guys hungry? I’ve got some tasty stuff with me.” He moved one of his legs aside to reveal the most disgusting, weird looking fish Hannke had ever seen.
“Um . . . no thank you. I’ve . . . already eaten.” Hannke said politely and hastily (for he did not want the rotten thing to end up in his delicate stomach). Wren unhelpfully performed a surprisingly accurate impression of vomiting.
The ferret seemed unaffected. “Okay, I guess.” He said calmly. “I was bringing this to the firebirds anyway.”
That seemed to wake Wren up. “Firebirds?” She asked, her eyes alight with curiosity.
“Firebirds, yes.” The ferret nodded. “They live in the volcano a little ways down.”
Hannke let out a hiss of shock. “Volcano?!?” He cried, alarmed.
“Told you so,” said Wren.
“My understanding of life as we know it has been ruined . . .” Hannke said faintly. “How the river-snakes is there literal volcano at the end of the tunnel?”
A look of amusement covered the ferret’s face. “Yeah, I can lead you there if you want. But first—I never did catch your names.”
“I’m Wren,” said Wren, who was looking much calmer than Hannke felt. “This little dramatic fellow is my friend Hannke.”
“Funny,” said the ferret, “that you are a bird and you’re named after a bird. Although I guess I myself can’t argue. The name’s Panther. Nice to formally meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” Wren said politely. Then she turned to Hannke. “Wake up, you. Panther’s going to take us to the volcano now.”
“Okay, okay,” Hannke said, taking ten deep breaths while counting the blessings of the river-snake, just as Guardian had taught him to do. Guardian didn’t follow cobra customs, but she insisted that the river-snake watched over everyone.
One.
Plentiful water to quench our thirst.
Two.
A place of gathering, unity, and peace.
Three.
A form of protection from unworthy invaders.
Four.
A free transportation, from one end to the other.
Five.
Supplier of fish, watercress, and eels.
Six.
A quiet place to ambush prey.
Seven.
The headquarters of fun and games.
Eight.
A landmark, to guide the lost.
Nine.
A refreshing place to cool off from the sun.
Ten.
A quencher of fires and everything fiery.
“Well, if you want to see the volcano, you had better quit lollygagging and follow me.” Panther’s voice broke Hannke’s trance.
“C’mon, Hannke!” Wren cried, and she was off.
Hannke found himself slithering as fast as he could after her. A new excitement was flowing through him. I’m really going to see a volcano! He couldn’t wait to get home and tell Rowen. She would be
impressed. The familiar pang of sadness flooded through Hannke as he thought of home, but it grew weaker and weaker as he grew closer and closer to freedom.
Panther slowed to a stop, and Hannke and Wren followed suit. The black-faced ferret dropped his disgusting fish and headbutted a rock out of the way. Then he picked up his burden and jumped down from a hole and out of sight.
Hannke and Wren approached the hole in excitement. We're finally here! Wren peered over the edge-
-and nearly fell face forward into the lava.
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