Wildwood Imperium (Wildwood Chronicles 3)

Again, the bearded man answered before Prue had a chance. “As big a deal as you could—”

Prue waved him off. “At first, yeah,” she said. “But things got a little ugly. It turns out a lot of those people don’t really like the idea of bringing Alexei back from the dead.”

“Didn’t I say that?” said Esben, looking back and forth between all the figures present around the campfire. “I said that. I said that would be tough. Alexei himself wasn’t too keen on the idea. I mean, he removed the cog himself once he found out he’d been remade. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Even I have some ethical quandaries about what we’re supposed to do.”

“Well, maybe you’re right,” said Prue. “But I still can’t ignore what the tree said. There must be a reason.”

“Did you find out what happened to Carol?” asked the bear.

“No,” she said. “But I have a clue.” She pulled from her pocket the note that had been left in Carol Grod’s file and handed it to the bear. He set his tin down and fumbled with it, his twin hook-hands clanging together until Prue had the good sense to reach over and just stab the paper through his right hook like it was a spike file.

“Thanks,” he said. He peered at the piece of paper, at the writing on the paper, in the light of the campfire. “Meet tonight, huh? What tree?”

“The Blighted Tree,” said Neil, the badger. “It must be.”

“That old relic?” asked Esben, shocked. “I though people had given up on that thing long ago.”

“The Synod’s back,” said Prue. “And seems pretty strong from what I saw.”

The bear scratched at his chin with the point of his left hook for a moment before saying, “My grandpa had a thing for the Blighted Tree. Still had a shrine in his house when he died.”

“Oh, yes,” said Neil. “It’s a regular revival. Unfortunately, and I say this as a true patriot and supporter of the revolution”—he said this with some deference toward Prue—“the Spokes haven’t done that good a job of running the place.”

Charlie frowned a little at this statement before saying, “Those are strong words, Citizen Badger. But true. The revolution’s all about freedom, personal freedom. That works great as a jumping-off point, but it’s no good at making for a safe and just society.”

The badger nodded, now fanning his little hands in front of the crackling fire. “I have to say, I’m getting a little tired myself of being harangued by the hard-line Spokes.” Saying this, his head suddenly darted side to side, scanning the immediate vicinity for secret listeners.

“It’s okay,” said Prue, noticing this. “You’re safe here.”

“It’s the kind of talk that could get you written up,” said the badger. “I mean no disrespect to the revolution, Maiden, you know that.”

Prue nodded.

“I gave up my casquette,” said Charlie, “after I saw what was happening. Those hard-liners were taking the idea of the revolution and turning it into just another reason to justify gang vigilantism. At least the Synod’s looking out for the people, not just their own selves.”

“That much is true,” said Neil.

“But can you trust them? The Caliphs?” asked Esben, now masticating a particularly tough hunk of beef jerky. “Assuming that’s who you’re going to meet.”

“I suppose I’ll have to,” said Prue. “They’ve got Carol. Or know where he is, anyway.”

“Well, I think you ought to be careful,” said the bear. “We still don’t know who sent those Kitsunes, for one. Could’ve been them, the Synod.”

“But they want to help,” said Prue, frowning. “Why would they want me, you know, out of the picture?”

“Complicated times, Maiden,” said Charlie, stroking his beard. “Everyone’s a friend and everyone’s an enemy.”

The four individuals around the fire lapsed into a kind of contemplative silence as the flames crackled and leapt from the pit and a bag of dried mangoes was passed from badger to bear to human. Finally, Prue took a deep breath and said, “Shall we?”

“I think we shall,” said the badger.

Esben stood up to see Prue off, giving her a protective pat on the shoulder. “Careful,” he said. “Keep your wits about you.”

“Will do,” was her reply.

“And work on your whistle a bit,” he said.

She smiled and turned away from the campfire. The three of them, the badger, the bearded human, and the Bicycle Maiden, all walked off into the gloom of the forest.