Oliver

He'd nearly been trampled three times when he reached the front of the line.

Oliver had always been small for a Zentu. For as long as he could remember, he'd toddled around the orphan house down the lane from Donation Corner. This was long before the Adoption Center opened its doors, when the Job Agency didn't have enough jobs to go around and hungry Subetans would brawl in the streets for a chunk of stale bread.

The fact that Donation Corner had any food at all that day was unusual.

That it was a pot of thick, hearty, vegetable stew was borderline miraculous.

His tiny trunk eagerly slurped every salty drop of broth. Another eternal wait in line had him nervously working the edges of his borrowed bowl. He peered up at the volunteer velosotor in the stained apron.

"Please, Sir. May I have some more?"

A battle-scarred mortiking picked him up from behind and gave him a gentle shake.

"Ungrateful urchin! There's hard-working folk here who haven't had a solid meal in a week and you'd take their share like some Saheric prince. Be grateful you were fed at all. I see you begging around here again, I'll throw you in the stewpot."

With barely a flick of his wrist, he sent Oliver flying out the back door into a heap of garbage. Laughter followed him down the alley and out into the rain-slick streets of Riverside.

He couldn't bear the smell that marked him as a castaway. Though Fireside was fast approaching and the water was frigid, he bathed in the clear waters of the river until all hint of stink was gone.

Shivering and sniffling, he wandered aimlessly until he stumbled upon the burning barrel.

Three jollins warmed their paws over a dying flame. They cast him a wary glance but didn't chase him away when he reached out to warm his own hands.

"They get younger every day."

The field jollin grunted. "Not our concern. We've got enough with keeping the Kumos Patrol off our tails."

"I hear things are better in Centropolis. They'll give you a sack of points a day to help on one of those monster construction projects." The dusk jollin paused to scratch his ruff. "I'm thinking of trying my luck there."

The twilight jollin snorted. "I doubt professional napper is an open position. Besides, those twig legs of yours can barely carry your own weight."

The dusk jollin scowled. "I've been to the training yard once or twice. I could do it."

"Yeah, and I'm Shinwa's cousin twice removed."

The jollins continued to ignore Oliver as he drifted off to sleep. They searched his pockets - standard operating procedure - and found him even worse off than they were. They left their last half-can of beans in sympathy.

The beans tasted even better than the stew.

He couldn't get the thought of Centropolis out of his mind. The jollins had gone on to speak of grand feasts that could fill a table the length of a hall. They described fashionable outfits in every color of the rainbow and sparkling jewels that would buy one the comfortable life.

He'd heard the matronly dragarths of the orphan house speak of something called "wonders". He'd certainly never hoped to see one.

The city was an assault on his senses. The legeica and hikei-drawn carriages. The charlie criers calling out the news of the day at the top of their lungs. A peddler selling roasted peanuts brought him to a stop. He'd never smelled anything so tasty.

A paw reached out to pull him back as a fire brigade carriage came screeching around the corner. The arid ruffie howling the alarm from the passenger's seat gave him an incredulous look as she was whisked past.

His rescuer studied him casually, leaning against the side of a building and chewing a straw.

"I'm a live-and-let-live kind of guy but you go messing around with one of those pavement eaters, you're not going to do much living, Short Fry."

He was a chibi archan with an unruly mane and a blue cap pulled low over one eye. He grinned and held out a paw. "Name's Archibald. I hate the name as much as the grouchy old man who gave it to me. You can call me Artful Archer."

"Th-thank you. For saving me."

"Aw, shucks. If the guys see me blushing like this, I'll never hear the end of it. Come on, Short Fry. You look like you could use a meal."

The houses on Archer's home street hadn't seen a coat of paint since the city was founded. They ranged from muddy brown to greasy black, rare curtains held up by frayed strings and shaped from rotting bits of rag. A chibi charlie answered Archer's knock.

"Look what the archan dragged in. You get it, Arch?"

Archer shot a look at Oliver who was peering at the gloomy staircase just inside the door. "Of course I did. Who you talking to? Ignore the giggling fool, my friend. Charlie the Charlie's a bit of an odd mallarchy but he's alright, when you get to know him. I want to introduce you to the guy who makes all this glamor possible."

Oliver studied a mold spot roughly shaped like a crouching tigrean and wisely chose not to reply.

A fester with dusty feathers crouched in front of a fireplace, eyeing a gold watch with a scowl. "It's about time you returned, Archer. I hope you brought me something better than this All That Glitters imitation junk."

"As a matter of fact, I did. I made a new friend over by Stock Lane."

Festive turned around, feathers ruffling and settling back in place.

"I'll say this much for you, Arch. You always know how to make an entrance."

They gave him a soup that was a little ham to go with a heaping helping of cabbage then sent him to bed. The mattress was thin but near the fire.

A bed of his own without a stray hoof or paw to startle him awake in the middle of the night. He smiled. Surely this was a wonder.

Part Two

His new friends were always playing games, teaching him the art of sneaking an apple from Festive's pocket without him noticing. When Oliver succeeded, he not only got to eat the apple but was given a whole sack of sweets.

After a few weeks, his new friends took him out to "see the town". He was having a marvelous time...

...until he saw Archer slip a pearl-studded purse from the pocket of a wealthy kumos.

Archer saw him watching and winked, vanishing from sight.

It was at that moment that the kumos noticed her loss. She snarled and pointed a claw at Oliver.

"Stop that boy! Thief!"

Frightened beyond all reason, he ran.

Only to be cornered in an ally by three Battle Coliseum veterans with a real grudge against pickpockets. He cowered as they searched him roughly, coming up with nothing.

"I'm so sick of these little rogues."

"Out with it, scoundrel. What did you do with Lady Kura's purse?"

He tried to answer but his mouth refused to work.

"We should turn him over to the Kumos Patrol. They'll know what to do with him."

"They'd eat him before they got any answers out of him."

"Gentlemen, please."

It was a soft voice, a refined voice. It was the sort of educated voice rarely heard outside Saggitarius Tower in a world gone mad with poverty.

Kura had seen every type of suffering known to Subeta. Daughter of a renowned Kumos Captain, she'd made it her goal in life to serve at least half as ably as her dear old dad and had won many honors in her own right. There weren't many sights that could crack her hard heart.

The sight of that tiny, cowering zentu shattered it.

"I was mistaken. The real culprit was an archan, a known associate of Festive's." She held up the recovered purse.

Oliver fainted at the sight of it.

Part Three

He decided he must be in heaven.

No other place could be so warm and wonderful.

Everything in the room from the canopy bed to the lace curtains to the comfortable-looking couches was done in shades of white and gold.

Definitely heaven.

Kura's entrance banished the fog of sleep, as did the aromatic smell of broth.

"How are you feeling?"

"Much better now, thank you."

She smiled and set the tray in easy reach, waiting for him to finish eating.

"You knew Archer, didn't you?"

He flinched back against the pillows. She placed a gentle paw on his shoulder.

"I'm not angry, Oliver. You didn't know anything about Festive when he took you in. I only wish someone who can give you a real home would have found you before you fell in with that lot."

"How...how do you know my name?"

"Archer. He likes to hear himself talk. Unfortunately, he's also quite good at escaping. I don't suppose you know where he might be hiding?"

He shook his head, looking down. "I know he did bad things...but he was my friend. He saved my life once."

"I understand. I wouldn't give up one of my friends, either. It never hurts to ask, eh?"

Part Four

When Kura wasn't on patrol, she spent all her time with Oliver. She taught him to read and took him to Minion Market to pick out a new friend. They would sit and talk for hours in her lovely little garden. Oliver had never been so happy.

It was a few months after his rescue that Kura charged him with an important job.

"You remember which shop is Book Nook?"

"Of course. It's my favorite store."

Kura placed three books in his hands. "The vendor gave me these duplicates by mistake. I want you to return them and get me a copy of the latest Louis L'Amour novel." She leaned forward to slip a small bag of coins into his pocket. "That's enough for you to stop at Candy Shack and get yourself a treat on the way home."

His little chest puffed out with pride. She saw him to the gate, smiling and waving until he was out of sight.

He was nearly to the front door of Book Nook when three shadows detached from an alley wall and surrounded him.

Archer heaved a dramatic sigh. "All the time and effort we put into making you classy and you sell us out for a pretty face. My heart's about to burst from sorrow."

Oliver tried to cry for help but Archer's friends were big and strong. They took up a popular song to drown out his noise, taking away the books and money Kura had entrusted to him. His fine clothes were swapped for the very rags he'd been wearing when Festive took him in.

Festive kissed his cheek, clutching the money bag in a curled claw. "This couldn't have gone better if I'd planned it myself. Now I can give that old river crook what I owe him and provide him the boy he was seeking."

Archer snorted. "You don't want to waste Ollie here on Qryk. He'll literally eat the little guy for lunch."

Charlie fell out of his chair laughing.

Festive didn't find the comment at all funny. "Hush. Both of you. That isn't a name to be used lightly." Festive shot a look at Oliver.

He was too heartsick to pay his captors any mind.

For two weeks he remained curled up in the dark, eating whatever slop was provided and crying over all he had lost.

Archer was nowhere in sight when Festive took Oliver's unresisting hand.

"My friend Mr. Qryk is looking for a young man of talent, Ollie. Heh. With the money this job brings in, we'll all be able to retire to the Omen Islands. Won't that be nice?"

They went to a house with windows so thick with grime, the carpets inside the house had never known the touch of sunlight. They all had the musty smell of cloth submerged in water.

Qryk casually picked his teeth with a claw, his beady eyes locking on Festive with a combination of impatience, expectation...and hunger.

"I've got your money Qryk...and just the boy you need."

Qryk looked Oliver over, his voice a low rumble. "He'll do."

"Tonight, then?"

"Tomorrow night, fool. On the full moon."

"Oh...right. I'll just...er...leave him with you then."

Qryk flashed his teeth. "I like a quiet house, Boy. You'd do well to remember that."

Oliver huddled on the provided cot. Based on the sounds rising from the dark street below, Oliver quickly discovered that while Qryk liked a quiet house, he was by no means a quiet hunter.

He pictured Kura in his mind, praying silently that somehow, she would find him.

Qryk returned near dawn, ignoring Oliver altogether until near dusk. He tossed a few stale biscuits at the boy. Too hungry to object, he tried to chew as quietly as he could.

It was true night before Qryk shook his shoulder, waking him from a light doze.

"Come, Boy."

They walked until Oliver was certain his feet would fall off. With an impatient growl, Qryk hoisted the boy to his shoulder and hurried to the doorstep of a gardener's cottage. A pherret answered his knock.

Qryk knelt so he could look Oliver in the eye, pulling a wicked-looking dueling pistol from his pocket.

"You're too young to have seen battle but I'm betting you know what this is."

Eyes wide, Oliver nodded.

"You'll go through the window and open the door for us. Festive told me you have some funny ideas about acting noble. Keep in mind, I'll be able to see you at all times. If I even think you're about to call out to the house..."

He mimed pulling a trigger with his claw.

Two weeks of watery gruel had taken off the weight he'd gained under Kura's care. Though the window was narrow, he had no difficulty sliding through it.

He stumbled around the unfamiliar room, nearly knocking over the kitchen girl's stool.

Qryk's low warning growl froze him in place but there were no sounds from above.

Oliver wrestled with the heavy oak door. Veta Lake homes were built to last through harsh winters.

The soft click of claws on stone.

A pair of golden eyes, narrowed in fury.

A flash of light, a burst of sound and the battle-cry of a telenine defending her home and grandson all contributed to the chaos that followed.

She'd hit the wrong mark but the sight of blood brought a howl of triumph to her lips. Qryk snatched up the limp boy and ran for the open fields.

Another shot narrowly avoided taking out the ridge over one of his eyes. Half-blind and furious, he made for the river, taking no notice when the boy slipped out of his grasp. Flash met him at the river's edge, ready to cast off an emergency raft they'd kept hidden.

"You lost the boy?"

Qryk lifted a clawed hand coated in blood. "Dead weight. We keep going."

Telly stumbled down the stairs in his bathrobe, showing his impressive canines in a huge yawn. "Nan...what is it this time?"

The ancient telenine pointed a crooked claw. "Look there, Sonny. I marked him. These old paws are as sharp as the day your grandfather taught me to shoot."

Telly groaned. His parents had left him a fortune bigger than most vaults at Subeta National Bank and he still couldn't build a cage strong enough to keep Nan out of the gun collection. "Stay inside, Gran. You'd better hope this wasn't another of Farmer McFelison's chickens."

Telly's nose wasn't the keenly tuned instrument of his wild ancestors but he could follow a blood trail easily enough.

The little zentu wasn't moving but he was still breathing. Telly groaned under his breath at the piteous sight.

"Bad Nan. Not a chicken."

Part Five

The world was fuzzy around the edges. Oliver tried to sit up, whimpering at the fire in his shoulder. A gentle paw rested on his brow, keeping him down.

"Shh. You're alright now. It was a clean shot, thankfully. Gran may be nutty as a popoko's lunch but her aim's as good as ever."

A low growl of approval rose from a corner of the room.

Telly sighed. "I'm in the business of saving lives. I trained under the Healer but she found I had no aptitude for magic. What I can't get through conjuring, I make up for in scientific knowledge. Your wound will heal, but it will take some time. Do you remember any of what happened?"

Oliver closed his eyes, trying not to dwell on memories of guttural growls and flashing teeth. "There was a light and a sound like thunder and...and..."

Telly waited for Oliver's tears to run dry. "You came in through the window. What I want to know is why."

"He...he had a gun."

"Ah. Who is he?"

Oliver sniffed. "Mr. Qryk."

A snarl escaped Telly, one that died quickly when he saw the look of terror on Oliver's face. "I'm sorry. That...reptile...has a lot to answer for. I'm certainly not angry with you. If you have any idea where he might have gone, you'd be doing me a great service."

"I'm sorry sir. Truly. Festive made me go with him after taking me from my home. Miss Kura was so kind to me and now she'll think I'm a thief when all I ever wanted was to make her happy."

Telly froze at the name. "Did you say...Kura?"

"Yes, Sir. She's the first person who was ever kind to me."

"I have no doubt." Telly sighed. "I suppose my experiments will keep for a few days. Once you're a little stronger, we'll take a drive into Centropolis. I wouldn't have Kura thinking ill of someone she cared about...and Nan has been growling for days about buying a new hat."

Nan's ears perked up. "Splendid! I know just the one I want."

Part Six

Nan pranced through the marketplace like a telenine half her age, giggling every time some passerby complimented her new hat. Telly settled her down among a group of old friends in front of Thimble & Co. and invited Oliver for a carriage ride.

"She doesn't get into town as much as she'd like. We're doing her a favor."

Telly had proven as kind as Kura. He'd taught Oliver stargazing and how to tell quartz from obsidian. He'd shown the youngster a map of Subeta and recounted tales from his many exploring expeditions. He'd even given the boy a book all about Subeta's greatest heroes, a book Oliver devoured almost as readily as the scrumptious meals prepared by an expert chef.

Nan was a loose cannon always good for a laugh, shooting her mouth as readily as her gun. She'd been wary of Oliver at first but his eagerness to hear stories and his willingness to do any task she could dream up and won her over.

They drove the streets of Centropolis with Telly casually asking if any of the passing houses looked familiar. He didn't miss how Oliver trembled when the passed Festive's place or how he hid his eyes behind his ears as they came up to Qryk's dark abode.

Oliver couldn't stop tears from falling when they stopped at Kura's house.

"Oh, please Telly. We should go back to Nan. Surely, she'll be missing us."

"She'll growl at us for interrupting one of her tall tales. Besides, I wanted to say hello to an old friend."

Oliver peered over the edge of the carriage window as Telly knocked on the door. He ducked with a gasp when the door opened.

Kura was standing there in her uniform.

Oliver couldn't make out what they were saying until they started moving in his direction. He heard Telly first.

"Yes, I realize now that I may have been a little...over-eager in my quest for knowledge."

Kura snorted. "You almost blew up a building.

"Ahem. Like I said. Over-eager. I've met someone who has forced me to reconsider my priorities."

"If this is some dawn telenine with a swan-feather bonnet, you'd better hop on that bench and drive for your life."

"Nothing of the sort, my dear. See for yourself."

Oliver scrambled back to the bench as the door swung open.

Kura stood stunned. In a single swoop, she scooped her wayward son into her arms, barely able to make her voice work.

"Where did you...how...Oliver.

He clung to her and wept.

Part Seven

Kura's tea was as heavenly as ever.

She listened to his story. Telly jumped in now and then but mostly let the boy do the talking. When he'd finished, Telly detailed the carriage ride.

Kura's grin was fierce. "Qryk is going down this time and Festive with him. I'll see that lot banished to that new colony on Atebus. We'll see if they can earn an honest living busting rocks."

Oliver thought of Archer and Charlie stumbling around in space suits and winced. "Please. Those boys aren't much older than me."

"Well...I suppose the boys could go to that new trading post on the Islands. If they don't just wind up turning into pirates, they could do some good."

Telly put a paw on Oliver's hand. "There's one other thing. I visited the orphan house in Riverside. The matron was able to give me a lead about your parents. Your father worked for the empress of Shengui Guo. Your mother was an attendant at the Great Bathhouse. They were overjoyed when they learned you were coming. Your father's death was an accident. He was like a son to the empress and she was furious. She blamed your mother unfairly, forcing her to flee her homeland. Her heart was broken for her lost husband and...I'm sorry, Oliver. She died giving birth to you."

Kura held the boy close, letting him cry until he'd worn himself out. She looked at Telly over his shoulder.

"You'll be returning to your experiments, I suppose."

"Actually...I've been thinking about moving back to Centropolis. Too many burglars in Veta Lake for my taste and Nan misses her friends. Besides, I...well...there's this kumos who has quite captured my heart. I was too big a fool to realize how much family meant until recently."

Kura waved him in for a group hug. Oliver smiled, held between two pairs of arms that would never again let him know hunger or misery.