My Heart Doth Wander (c) 03-04 by MistressAli

All "Sonic the Hedgehog" characters and related indicia (c) and TM Sega/Archie/and DIC. Used without permission.

Packbell (only mentioned in passing) © David Pistone

Casssar and Cu Chulainne (c) MistressAli

Email any comments or hate-mail ;) to Cu_Chulainne@yahoo.com

This document may be freely distributed, as long as it's not altered in any way. This story contains: violence, sex stuff, swearing and other naughty stuff.

Italics  = thoughts, flashbacks or first person POVS

--- = Cu’s voice

Onto the lengthy A/N!:

This is the 3^rd story in my series ‘The Lifeblood of Mobius’, which includes the preceding stories “The Glow of Something Bright” and “Following Tributaries”. I would really suggest reading those first because this story would probably be confusing otherwise (and it’s probably confusing enough, knowing my writing!)

It’s quite a long story so I’ve decided to split it into chapters, which I don’t always do...but one, I can get more exposure on FF.net, because well, you get bumped off the recents page very quickly there. Two, because the story is so lengthy, chapters will allow people to read it in smaller chunks, instead of the entire long overblown thing ;)

Also, when first starting to write this, I couldn’t decide between doing it in third or first person POV, so I just did both! This was also partially inspired by the TV show ‘Boomtown’ which shows an event from different characters POVs. Just noting this to help avoid any confusion... I also bolded when it happens, so er yes.

This story is dedicated to John Roberts, because he always gave me such encouraging words on the previous stories and his interest in the series motivated me to get off my lazy ass and write the third part. Now, seeing as this story might suck to most people, you can just blame him for that! :P :P

OK, enough blabbing, onto the story!!

Lifeblood of Mobius

Story #3

                        "My Heart Doth Wander"

                              by MistressAli

**From the mouth of I, Casssar, Queen of Robotropolis**

I moved from those hallways and rooms of stale contained air, and out onto the balcony that hung on the high reaches of the building. The city of Robotropolis. It lay dark and quiet before me. The realm of dusty streets, empty.

This was his kingdom now. My Castdecass, my Black Flower.

But according to him, it was mine too. He said so...when he got the idea to fashion the crown...

Three days ago. I’d been gazing out the window. Somehow I thought there would be something more interesting out there than my surroundings of metal walls, and metal floors, and still more metal: ceilings, sentry guards standing in the doorways, whose archways were of metal too, all polished and glinting with the overhead lights.

I could understand why someone could go mad here. And how only someone mad could have built this.

I heard soft footsteps behind me and then, “Casssar?” came in an odd accent. I turned to see something not made of metal. My Black Flower, a tiny man, with pale pale skin and blue eyes that shimmered at the sight of me.

He smiled, or what I knew as one, the slight quirk of his pouting lips upwards. He was holding something behind his back and he withdrew it. A circlet of gold balanced in his outstretched hands. Two flowers were carved upon it, one at each temple, and between them, a strip of six tangerine jewels, glinting the light back three fold.

“It is beautiful,” I said.

“It’s for you,” he said, and he beckoned me to bend lower. I did so and he placed the crown onto my head, straightening it to his satisfaction. He stepped back and I stood at my full height.

He nodded, his eyes sweeping my face. “It fits you. You look like a queen.” Then softer his voice came, his cheeks flushing. “I...want you...to be my queen, Cass.”

“Oh Cast...” I stroked his cheek and he nuzzled against my hand like a cat. He seemed to ache for any touch I gave. Endearing...and almost too needy...all at once.

I was in adoration.

“The Queen of Robotropolis...”

The crown was lightweight, but even small things can become a burden after a time.

*********

Sleep. A time of peace.

For the lucky ones, the healthy ones.

For others, like him? The sick souls?

He sometimes loathed that spaceless realm, and all the horrors it brought him. Dead things come back to bite, forgotten things brought back clear and vivid as the day they were conceived. Memories and atrocities.

Everything he didn’t want to see.

But Snively had to succumb to the need for sleep. So he laid his head upon the pillow and shut his eyes, and pulled the sheets up. He drifted away into what he hoped would be a calm flat sea.

But so often it was whipped into black frothing waves.

Waves. Of forest trees, the green tops waving. And he was somehow there, on a path, walking. Or was he? Blackness folded in.

“Snively...”

He heard a breathy voice. It sounded weak, like it couldn’t get any louder.

A flash of red. And a scent.

It smelled like pennies.

He realized suddenly, in this odd blackness, that he was cold. There was weight all around him, like he was buried under a pile of pebbles.

Pennies?

That smell...what was it?

‘Open your eyes...’

He did. If he could scream, he would, but there was no strength. He was covered in cuts. His throat was sliced open. His heart was torn. A massacre. He was a massacre.

And he was buried.

He realized he was quite large, and his face boasted a large orange mustache. He was...Robotnik.

Dead?

And then it all reversed, and he was himself again: Snively. He was trudging along a pathway in the forest, and the green trees were wavering in a breeze. His feet stopped him by a huge mound of dirt. He wanted to scream at himself to run, because he knew what was underneath.

He saw the dirt move. He saw himself startle and try to leap away.

But it was too late. His ankle was caught by a hand, and it reeled him in. Then it latched about his throat and he could scream this time.

It was his Uncle grasping him and he was towering, decayed, holes in his vengeful smile and caverns for eyes. He wore maggots like a white shirt.

He heard himself whimper and then gag as those hands clenched tighter around his neck. It was strange, for even decayed and dead, Uncle’s flesh still bled. The smell was so strong. Blood, copper-penny blood, rotten. It choked him as equally as the deteriorating hands.

The blood oozed. And where the blood touched him

The nephew

The killer

It burned through him like acid.

********

He woke up screaming, flailing his arms, shuddering, gasping, drooling, crying, sobbing, retching.... He woke with mortal fear etched into his face and the sheets soaked with more than just sweat.

“NO, JULIAN, NO!” He sprang from the bed, his words coming out like machine-fire in their ferocity. He aimed a finger at the pale figure in the mirror. “YOU’RE DEAD, GODDAMN YOU!! DEAD!!” In fear-fed fury he launched at the mirror, punching his own reflection. The blows that came to his small trembling form were from his own hands now! Never again from Uncle Julian’s!!

He fell to the floor and stared at his bare scarred arms. He tried to keep that thought in his head. That Julian was DEAD. That he could never yell, break, hit, again. He could never make new scars. These old markings of his would fade away. Julian was gone. Packbell was gone. These scars would fade...

He laid there until the shuddering subsided and slowly, with a groan of effort, he pushed himself to his feet.

He stared for a long moment at the pale slim body in the mirror. Then slowly, a smile crept upon his face. One finger reached out and stroked the reflection’s cheek. “It’s alright to smile. You’re free now.”

With his eyes, those ice-pale haunted orbs, on the mirror, he slid his hands across his shoulders. Down his chest, over those ridges of ribs, and down slim, flat sides, over the scarred stomach. Soothing the skin, telling it that there was nothing more to fear. His hands reached the hipbones, jutting through the creamy skin, and rested there. He grinned at the mirror, feeling strangely elated, and slightly silly...and then he turned and retrieved his clothing.

His normal gray uniform fit snugly as always, but he made a modification. The red armband imprinted with a black “R” for Robotnik was ripped away and tossed into the trash.

“There. Perfect.” He gave a final nod to the icy boy in the mirror, before exiting and heading down to the command center.

********

Princess Sally sat at her writing desk, facing the window, in her hut. Outside it was strangely quiet. It had been ever since the day Robotnik died in the middle of their village. The day Sally had stabbed him under the spell of Casssar and by Snively’s command. The day the villagers had been brainwashed. The day Cu Chulainne had wiped their minds of the incident to purge any guilt they would carry.

Dear Journal,

This place has been like hell, lately. A few days ago, we buried the villagers who had died fighting Robotnik. But we didn’t bury him. Not yet. Nobody has touched HIS body yet. Nobody wants to! But I’m going to have a meeting about it today. Because well...the smell.

She looked out the window then, seeing that tarp-covered form. Robotnik was still where he lay. The blood had seeped into the ground. She imagined nothing would grow there now.

The blood had disappeared but his body remained, and no one dared lift the tarp to look, or even came within five feet of the corpse.

And Gods! The smell. At first the corpse had laid there, all nice and quiet and not bothering anybody.

Except for the look of it. That was unsettling. Bloodied flesh, stabbed and bitten and mutilated, and entrails dangling from a torn stomach. Someone had grabbed a tarp and thrown it over. So they didn’t have to look anymore. And that was fine for a few days.

But the days had been warm in this beautiful late summer and that had taken a toll on the dead flesh. It began to deteriorate, as it should, and as it rotted, it began to stink. Such a stench...it was sweet, but in a sick stomach-churning way. Heavy. It hovered like a cloud and wafted on the air currents until the entire village could smell it.

It’s so horrible. And I did it. I know...I’ve rambled about this already, right? But I can’t get over it. It’s too awful. And the villagers hate me now. They don’t get it...they think I’m a freak. But they were under a spell too! They should know it’s not my fault.

And it’s not just about the villagers. I know that... but...

It’s Sonic. He’s been acting so strangely around me. He doesn’t trust me. He just doesn’t understand, because he doesn’t know about the Source! If he did...if I could tell him everything... but Daddy says we can’t. It’s like this big family secret or something.

I think they think I brought Robotnik to the village... They think I’m a witch.

I don’t know what to do.

A waft of air brought the smell into her room. She sat, breathing in the stench, and then the familiar look of resolve came into her eyes, hardening her gaze into steel. She closed the journal with a snap and stood up.

‘This isn’t a time to mope with words...

I have to take action.’

She looked out the window at the tarp. The first thing to do was to obliterate the constant reminder...to finally dispose of Robotnik’s body. They had a new life now, and it was time to start accepting it.

*********

“Does this city ever see the sun?”

Casssar thought she might peer out the window for days and never see a spark of light, never see the gray clouds turn red or purple from sunset. Sometimes the wind stirred them about, but never seemed to open a gap to the sky.

“It’s always nighttime here,” said Snively. He had entered a few minutes ago, dressed in his normal gray attire. He looked tired as he seated himself in the green throne that formerly had belonged to his Uncle. “I barely remember what sunlight looks like.”

“We only saw it a few days ago,” she laughed.

Yes, sunlight, and blood.

And guilt. And ecstasy.

And Uncle! And Uncle’s hand around his neck, choking him! Snively gasped and his hand flew to his throat. He could feel the blood burning him.

“When we...killed Julian,” he said, stammering. “We did see it then, the day he died. But I didn’t really notice it...” He cocked his head, looking at her with eyes like a frightened child. “All I could see was the blood.”

“Blood,” said Casssar, with a devious smile, pretending not to acknowledge that fear-filled gaze. “I like blood...”

Snively’s lip quirked half-heartedly. “Yes, but this wasn’t good. It was...it was just sick.”

Casssar turned back to the window, hunting futilely for that ray of light, and finding none. “Are you sorry he is dead?”

Could he say that? Did he feel that?

Snively reached a hand, gingerly, as if probing a wound, into the dark pit inside himself. There was blood once again, blood. Thorns, barbed wire and ripped flesh, maggots feeding off the decay. There were black holes and stagnant pools. There was so much *disease* inside him, and who had planted the virus? Who had infected him?

Julian.

Julian, Julian, Julian.

And so those fingers probed for thoughts of Julian, and he found everything, he found everything...bitter hate, the choking anger, the terror, the ecstasy upon death, the sweet taste of revenge. Guilt, horrid guilt. He found everything, even sick misguided love and broken trust, fragments of adoration and the naïve coveting of a child.

He found it all but one thing.

Regret, remorse, sadness.

“No. I’m *glad* he’s dead.”

“Yes,” the ermine nodded, her finger sliding along the glass, tracing his reflection. “I thought as much.” She looked over her shoulder, teeth glimmering in her black face. “I am pleased too.”

The smile returned to his lips and this time it stayed, and transmuted, turning into something lewd.

Casssar loved it, and a purr leapt from her throat.

“We did it together, Cass.” He sprawled lazily in the massive throne. Her eyes swept over his lithe body, the small slip of pale stomach she glimpsed when his shirt rode up.

“Indeed we did, Black Flower,” she turned her back to the window, and back upon it she leaned, stretching, luxuriously. The overhead lights played across her silken fur, catching in her narrowed eyes as her lips pursed, blowing him a kiss.

Snively’s eyes darkened from pale blue to dark...murky, like grit stirred up under a clear lake. Sudden lust made his breath quicken and his fingers tighten on the armrest.

“We can do *anything* together, Black Flower.”

“Anything...” His voice was husky. “Come here, Cass. Show me one of those anything’s...”

Another purr came from the slinky lady, and she danced her body over the floor and to the command chair.

“Computer,” said Snively, his voice still caught in that drowsy raspy lilt, his eyes locked on Casssar’s olive green stare as her face leaned towards his...

“...Dim the lights.”

*********

Sonic was talking to Tails when Sally found him. He held her eye as she approached, his mouth moving as he spoke to the young fox, and then, as Sally reached him, Tails slipped away.

Sonic gave her a smile that was so slight, she could barely justify calling it a smile. But at least it was something.

“Hi Sonic.”

“Hi Sal.”

He shuffled his feet. “So uh...how’s it going?”

“Fine...” She said.

There was a long awkward pause, so unfamiliar to them both. It had never been like this before. This tension between them...this feeling of being strangers, somehow.

Finally he stole a cautious look at her, his brow crinkling. “You look...”

“What?”

“Serious.”

“Don’t I always?”

The hedgehog smiled. This time it was fuller, more genuine. “You look like you’re really thinking up something.”

“It’s about...” The squirrel faltered, and then finally swung her arm in the general direction of Robotnik’s corpse. “...*that*. Something has to be done about...it...”

Sonic looked over too, keeping his gaze there, not looking at her. She saw him gulp. “Yeah...yeah, that’s just...mondo bad.” He nodded a bit too vigorously. “Are you gonna call a meeting?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I think that’s best.” She tentatively reached her hand out towards him, then drew it back to herself as he finally looked her way . “Um...maybe you can tell everyone. We can have it,” she glanced at the sky, “At four?”

“Sounds great,” he mumbled, and then, his eyes shone forlorn as she backed away and fled the spot with quick striding steps.

********

She went down to the pool. Considering it was a rather warm day, it was surprising to find the place deserted. The waters were still, not one ripple, not one leaf falling to mar the pristine surface.

It should’ve seemed peaceful, but relaxation was the furthest from Sally’s mind. Instead, she was tense, picking her way over the rocks to the opposite end of the pool. A rock wall rose up; most people didn’t come to this side of the pool unless they intended to dive off the rocks and swim in the deeper part of the water.

The bushes here were thick, concealing this section of ground from anyone standing at the other side of the pool, and for that, Sally was thankful.

Nevertheless, she still cast a hunting glance all around, even scanning the treetops. She raised a finger to the top of a crack in the wall. Downwards she drew the finger, following the crack, until she reached the bottom, where she exerted firm pressure with her three inner fingers.

The rock beneath her fingers slid inwards, and with a slight grinding noise, a small doorway slid open in the stone. She entered quickly and the door shut behind her.

Before her lay a cavernous space; a hidden cave within the cliff wall. The ground was flat gray stone, littered with a few boulders here and there, but, covering most of the ground surface of the cave was a glimmering pool.

This was not water. It shone a swirled gold and silver; and its composition was thicker...it glowed and illuminated the walls around her.

A Source pool...the Acorn Source pool.

Only she and her father knew of it. Or were supposed to know. Some time ago, Snively, and his new companion, the slinky Casssar, had also discovered it.

That had led to Snively’s discovery of something even more sacred in his eyes: Knothole.

And his Uncle had come at his Nephew’s bidding...and the Nephew had slated his doom.

But...Sally gulped and tried to force the image away...of her own hand bearing down, dealing the final blow to the Overlord of Robotropolis.

She should be proud, maybe, at finally bringing an end to Robotnik’s reign.

But it didn’t seem just. It didn’t seem...right...

She walked towards the pool; it illuminated her body. Above the pool, a ball of soft white light floated. She felt comforted by it, understood. She reached her hand towards the glow...

*******

The glow...

Snively closed his eyes. He could still see the glow, even then.

Red, a horrific red. Not because it was the color of blood, or denoted emergencies. It was the red of his Uncle’s eyes.

Casssar was kissing him...beautiful sensual kisses all along the curve of his slender neck. He tilted his head back, eyes half-closed and hazy, his hands ruffling the fur as he stroked her sides. She had a little more meat on her than he did; he couldn’t feel her ribs as readily as she could feel his, poking out through the fabric of his uniform. He was often worried his body repulsed her, but Cass insisted she enjoyed the feel of his bones.

“You feel...real...” She said, one time, trying to explain. “You have a structure...”

“Maybe so...but nobody wants to see the foundation of a house when they live in it. They want to see walls. Pretty decorated walls.”

“I like the base form of things,” she said somberly, and traced her finger along the prominent ridge of his collarbone.

Now she was breathing against his neck, so moist and warm. Her hand was stroking his thigh and he felt frantic butterflies in his stomach. “You are beautiful, Black Flower,” she hissed.

“Don’t be ridiculous...” he sighed, with a bit of a stammer in his voice. Her hands were making it awfully difficult to think straight. “You’re the b-b-beautiful one...”

She laughed, a low purring sound. That only elevated his stupor; Gods, the woman melted him like ice cream under the hot sun. This sort of brainlessness, this lack of clarity, was usually a thing for him to scoff at; right now, though, he was enjoying it thoroughly.

She was a tease, so slow and sly in her movements, her fingers crawling spider-like up his slender thighs, and onto his waist, playfully avoiding any sensitive areas in between, even though his baited breath and eyes, half-lidded and sultry, were insisting she explore them...

But he happened to move his head, and see across the room, where the enormous computer console stretched out. The place where he had spent so many waking hours. It was darkened, except for some glowing lights.

He intook a breath.

Two lights, side by side.

Glowing red.

Red.

EYES.

HIS EYES, STARING, STARING, WAITING.

Snively jerked upright. His breath was torn and a sudden hard shudder racked his body.

“Hmmm?” Question flashed in Casssar’s olive green eyes.

He tried to shrug the chill off.

“Nothing. Ah, just a cramp in my leg.”

“In your leg...” she purred throatily. “Or somewhere else?”

The lights seemed to glow brighter. He turned his head, staring at Casssar’s lips, which were smiling, felt his head swim as she attempted to massage the imaginary cramp that was ‘somewhere else’.

He thought suddenly, with a jolting sick lurch of his stomach, of the maggots crawling on Julian in his dream. Casssar’s fingers, they wiggled into the top of his pants like black snakes, or...or...

The red lights blurred, they gained twins in his eyes as he stared at them so intently they doubled. He heard whispering...and felt sweat break...was that Casssar’s voice? Or HIS...?

“Beautiful...”

“...to see you die... to see you ROT, Snively...”

“...black...”

“...to see you in the ground, decaying in the darkness, with just my hands on your neck for company, with just the stench of MY blood in your SOUL, Snively!”

“...flower.”

“Uhnnn....No!” A ragged childish whimper squeezed past his lips and he wrapped arms around Casssar; she had grown to be not only his love, but his shield as well, his protector. She could beat back Julian, couldn’t she?

But he’s DEAD. He’s DEAD, damn you!

Casssar mistook his whimper for pleasure; a chuckle shook her body and she continued her massaging. He could barely think, breathe, talk, with the two forces pulling at him; terror and ecstasy... Where they that close? Those two emotions – both pushed a person to an edge, a vast cliff with hidden things at the bottom, deep water. He wanted to dive into one. And the other...he wanted to run...and he wiggled, trying to get away from Casssar. So he could run.

Run from those glowing red eyes...and those hands reaching...

“God...NO!”

Now Casssar understood. That something was amiss. “What’s wrong?”

She turned to eye the room behind her, seeing nothing, nothing but glowing lights and darkness. She focused on the lights.

Yellow, blue and...red. RED. She turned back abruptly, seizing him by the shoulders. “He’s DEAD.”

Snively was struck – backhanded with killing force – by recollection. Cu Chulainne. It had brought back Sally...when he’d killed HER. It had brought back himself...from the DEAD. He tasted bile in his throat, his eyes shining with terror-born tears as he stared at Casssar. “IS he?” It came out as a squeak. “IS HE?!”

“Yes.” Casssar’s eyes saw the carnage just as Snively’s did; the Overlord of Robotropolis on his back where he’d fallen, torn, stabbed, laid open, eyes glazed. Limp. Lifeless. Life-LESS.

Dead as dead can be.

“No man could live through that.”

Snively rested his head on her shoulder, embracing her again. The feel of her heart calmed him. “He isn’t...*wasn’t*...a man. He was a demon.”

“Then he has returned to his hell.” Her breath was warm on the top of his head. She traced the curves of his ear with her fingertip. “He is GONE, Black Flower.”

“Yes...I...” Snively’s eyes strayed again to the console in the dark, its two red lights still glowing.

Just lights, they were just lights.

“...I believe you.”

But...they still looked like eyes.

****

The light floated to Sally’s fingertips. It spoke to her with a rich voice, both gentle and booming. This was Cu Chulainne, the purifier of the Source, and the strange entity had made itself a home in the cavern that housed the Acorn Source Pool. Sally and It had become friends...as much as one could be friends with an entity.

-Hello, Sally.-

“Hello, Cu.”

Sally sighed, and sank onto one of the large boulders by the pool side. “I’m tired of this, Cu.”

-Of what, Sally?-

“Of keeping this a secret...keeping YOU a secret. It makes everything so hard to explain...when I have to cover up the truth. Sonic doesn’t even trust me anymore...Sonic!”

-He has deep affection for you. He will not throw that aside easily.-

Sally was quiet, dipping the toe of her boot into the pool. The thick liquid did not cling to her foot. She gave a half-hearted kick, then sighed again. “Cu...how do you know? You’ve never...well...touched Sonic.”

-I see him through you.-

“Oh.” Her muzzle crinkled. “Then you only see my hope for him. *My* feelings for him.”

-He rubs off on you. I do not just read your thoughts...I read the essence he has left.-

This thought put Sally into a silent state as she contemplated. She knew, deep down, that for Sonic to abandon her, it would require an act on her part that was so atrocious, so horrible, that even she would not be able to cope, to continue living.

Killing Robotnik with her bare hands, plunging the knife into his chest? It was horrific.

But he was their mortal enemy. It was still murder...but...if anyone deserved murder...it was Robotnik. Sonic would not leave her for that.

She supposed Cu was right. It put her more at ease. “But I still wish I didn’t have to deceive him,” She mummered.

The light glowed softly. It understood.

A frown crinkled the Princess’s brow. Cu’s words echoed again in her head. ‘He rubs off on you.’ It struck her suddenly. “Does...can...you read anyone *else* on me, Cu?”

-Yes.-

“Well, who?” She was immensely curious, and a little queasy. Anyone could leave their essence on her? Like a greasy fingerprint marring her soul forever...was that what it was?

-All your close friends. Your father, And the dead evil one. The small one and the dark woman.-

Robotnik has a mark on me? She shuddered. And Snively....and Casssar...? “What does...what does Snively’s essence say?”

He was their new enemy now, as far as she knew. He was in the city, perched on the throne, following in his Uncle’s footsteps. With Casssar. But they hadn’t *done* anything since that day. Maybe...maybe he was satisfied with his Uncle’s death...maybe he would leave them alone.

-He is jumbled. I sense admiration.-

Sally snorted.

-I sense hate and resentment. He is definitely an enemy, with a potential to change. To become worse.-

“No surprise.”

-Or better.-

Sally’s frown deepened. “I doubt that, Cu. Not by himself.” She didn’t mention Cu Chulainne’s desire to heal Snively...that day when she’d killed Robotnik. She’d stopped Cu, she told It ‘NO’, because she wanted the demons that tormented Snively to drive him to madness, to drive him to suicidal despair. He deserved to suffer. He didn’t deserve to be saved, or healed. “He’s...beyond repair...”

-That is not true.-

But Sally didn’t want to discuss it further. She stood up. “I still wish...I could just tell everyone,” she steered the subject back to her current dilemma. “I don’t see-“

Just then, the soft rumble of the hidden door alerted her to another presence. She whirled around, though it could be only one person.

And it was he. King Acorn, cape dragging upon the smooth floor, stepped into the basking glow of the Source Pool and its protector. “Ah, Sally. I expected to find you here.”

“Daddy.” She greeted him with the question nagging her mind. “Why can’t we tell about this place?”

He was at the edge of the pool, the light bathing his face silver and gold. “I’ve told you before, Sally, this is a secret place of the Royal Family. No one outside our family can know of it! Even you, my dear, were not to know of it so soon.”

“But what about Sonic? I can’t even tell him?”

“No, I am afraid not.”

“But...but he...” She gulped. “He’s part of our family.”

He shook his head gently. “Your love for him does not mean he is a part of the family. I am sorry.”

She mused wildly about running to Sonic, about marrying him. Just so she could bring him here and show him. “But he *will* be, in the future, daddy! He WILL be.”

“He isn’t NOW, Sally. I’m sorry.” His tone had gotten a bit sharper; heeding the end of the conversation. Sullenly, his daughter kicked at the pool again. She was not one who gave up easily, but neither was her father. The stubborn clashing of their wills would get them nowhere.

“Well, alright, then,” she finally said, changing the subject. “I’ve...well...I’m planning to have a meeting today. To discuss Robot- the body. What to do with the body.”

“Ah,” the king nodded. “It *is* becoming a bit of a problem. It was thinking of holding a meeting about that as well.”

“Daddy?” she was hesitant, staring down at the Source. “What do you think about me...about what I did?”

“I think nothing. They were not your actions.”

She was silent; he continued. “And what do you think of me? I was powerless. I did nothing to stop Snively from calling that monster Julian.”

“You couldn’t...” She understood his point immediately. “Casssar’s magic wouldn’t let you.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “Yes, my dear, but just knowing that doesn’t make it easier. For *either* of us.”

She leaned her head upon his hand. “It’s hard to think...that there are times when you can’t *do* anything.”

The King was quiet. There was a deep sadness in his aura. Even without the insight of Cu Chulainne, Sally could feel it. She thought...anybody within three miles of him could feel it, like great undulating waves of sorrow rolling off of him...

“Yes, my child, I *know*. Sometimes, I think I know that better than *anyone*.”

They both stood for a long while, not talking, both lost in thoughts of their own misgivings and weaknesses...but both understanding they shared these feelings. That they weren’t *alone*.

Finally Sally pulled away. “Well...I’d better get going...the meeting will be on soon...”

It was still not for a few hours, but she wanted out of the cavern; it was the epitome of her problems suddenly. But no, that wasn’t really it...it was just the deceit, the deceit to Sonic, that nagged at her conscience. This place was the answer she couldn’t give, the truth she couldn’t reveal.

Or maybe I can... A sly thought came as she exited the cavern.

She made her way through the bushes. Still, the pool lay empty. The water was calm and she debated taking a swim. Letting that cool liquid soothe her, float her despair away. Ah, it sounded so good...

She stripped off her vest and laid it upon the large log, and she had gotten her boots off, smiling as her toes sank into the cool mud, when she heard a rustling in the nearby bushes.

She looked towards the sound; whoever it was tried unsuccessfully to conceal their presence, but they were making too much noise, cracking sticks and scuffling on the leaves.

“Alright, who’s over there?” she asked, annoyed at her tranquility being disturbed.

There was a little yelp, and out of the foliage tumbled Tails, his fur stuck with twigs and thorns, and his gloved paw rubbing at his eye.

“Oh, hi there, sweetie,” the squirrel greeted. “Are you coming for a swim?”

“Uh no,” the kit said, standing briskly and brushing himself free of the debris. “I was just...uh...looking for mushrooms.” He sprinted away up the path and Sally closed her mouth; she’d been all set to ask if he knew what ones were safe to eat, and how to tell – then she turned back to the pool.

Somehow, the water didn’t look as enticing. She felt unsettled. With a shrug, she waded out anyway...she had time to kill after all.

*******

**Inside the head of Mobius’s most way past cool hedgehog, Sonic!**

He didn’t have much to tell me. I wasn’t disappointed in him, though. I didn’t really *want* there to be anything to tell.

“Hey, it’s ok, lil bro, that’s what I thought anyway. There’s nothin’ wrong with ole Sal.”

Tails smiled, but it looked troubled. “Cool!” Then his voice reflected his face, worried. “But...but what could be wrong with Aunt Sally, Sonic? She’s not a robot clone, is she?”

Boy, was that kid paranoid about robot clones. He’d been the only one, all that time ago, to know about the fake Sally Robotnik had built. He was a smart kid, he really was. Robotnik was stupid though. It sure fooled us, but he never tried it again. I would’ve, if I were him. Not that I want to be like old lard-butt, but I sure would’ve tried it again.

But he didn’t. This Sally wasn’t a fake. She defiantly wasn’t. “No way! She’s Sally, alright! I’m just a little worried about her, is all, ya know? She’s probably still a little stressed after what happened.”

“Yeah,” the kit nodded, looking cheery again. He always took my word as a definite truth. Sometimes that bothered me. I know, I’m *nearly* perfect, but not totally. Sometimes, I screw up. I don’t want to let him down, or anyone else, for that matter. But I will sometime. I just know I will...it can’t be helped.

I want to tell him that, but I can’t, because he’s so *hopeful*. He’s still so innocent.

“Yeah,” Tails repeated. “She seems ok to me.”

I patted him on the shoulder, smiling, but inside I felt really funny. Like I might cry or something. “That’s the spirit.”

“Should I keep following her?”

“Oh sure, if you want,” I said it very nonchalant; I was really trying to swallow this odd lump in my throat.

I just wanted to believe Sally was really ok. She killed Robotnik; she’s never killed anything before, not on purpose. I know, it was Robotnik. I would’ve killed him too, to protect Knothole. It still marks her, though....it makes her different to me.

Oh...I waved to Tails and ran off quickly, because the lump was choking me. She’s different, but she’s still the same. I *want* her to be the same old Sal, more than anything, more than I ever wanted Robuttnik dead, even.

Speaking of Robuttnik... I checked my watch. It was about time to set up the meeting. Once we got rid of stinky old Buttnik, maybe stuff would get better.

I kept running, my vision starting to blur. It wasn’t raining though.

Please, just let it get better.

******

The meeting was postponed for two hours, because people were slow in coming, and Sonic couldn’t find everyone. Geoffrey (Sonic didn’t care if he showed or not) had been out with Hershey, Bunnie, and one of his MPs, a badger named Tory. They filtered into the café’ just as Sonic announced they would be holding the meeting over dinner.

Sally wasn’t sure if discussing Robotnik’s corpse while they were eating was a good idea, but here they were.

She was quite sure the texture of Sonic’s bowl of chili (a crumbly red) and the bowl of rice would take on disgusting traits, like bloody meat and wiggling maggots.

She tried to push that thought away; still, she refused a portion of either dish.

“Alright,” she said, after everyone had settled down, loathe to bring up the subject. “As you know, we’re here to talk about...” she fumbled, “...the...the body. It’s been lying there for far too long. Something has to be done about it.”

“Oh oui, oui, mah Princess,” said Antoine from the end of the table. “The smell, it is making me swoon whenever I am smelling it!” the fox wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“It’s really gross!” agreed Tails and Dulcy nodded.

“It’s about bloody time, luv,” Geoffrey was eating some of the chili mixed with rice. The combination made Sally’s mouth twist.

“Me and Tory were jus’ talking about it today. It ain’t healthy, that’s for sure. Surprised we ain’t all got bloody sick yet.”

Some of the villagers seated at the table in the corner where muttering and casting glances at Sally. She thought she saw one’s mouth form the words ‘crazy’ and the others nodded. She cleared her throat and hailed an arm at them. “You have a suggestion over there?”

They all looked nervous, gulping, and one of the women shakily responded. “Ah...uh...no Your Highness.”

Sally let out a sigh. “Well, come on, people, don’t be shy. This isn’t just a Freedom Fighter problem, it’s *all* of ours.”

Geoffrey grinned very deviously, elbowing Tory. “Let’s chop ‘im up and eat ‘im.”

Tory sniggered. “He’d last a few months. Maybe years!”

There were groans and gags all around. Sally tapped her fork against the tabletop, features twisting in annoyance. “Boys, *serious* suggestions only!”

“I was being serious...” Geoffrey chortled as he shoveled another heap of the chili-rice combo into his mouth.

“Well, how about we throw him in the lake? Or the pool?” Tory suggested.

Antoine stared at his water glass, beginning to shudder as images flooded him. He pictured a night guarding the pool, and he lay there as usual, yawning, waiting for the ring. The waters rippled, disturbed from underneath, but no golden ring came from the depths. It was a robotic hand, grasping, covering in slime and grit. Moving like a shark towards him, reaching for him...

He let out a squeal and shook his head violently. “Non, NON! We cannot be doing that!”

“What are you whining about now?” Geoffrey growled. Sonic scoffed.

Tails and Dulcy wore similar expressions of horror. They also saw the terror of Robotnik’s corpse, pursuing them, devouring them as they swam in their beloved pool. They squealed along with Antoine, joining his protests.

“No way! I could never swim there again with HIM in the water!”

“I hardly think that’s healthy,” agreed Sally. “Dumping a rotting corpse...” She had to look away from Geoffrey and Sonic’s meals, “Into such a small body of water? It would contaminate our supply. Not to mention...” She nodded at Tails and Dulcy, “It’s just a repulsing thought, I agree.”

“Well, excuse me,” Tory rolled his eyes.

“How about...” said the woman who’d stammered earlier, “How about we just bury the body?”

It was the most obvious solution, but Tails, Dulcy and Antoine still looked less than thrilled. That robotic hand could rise from dirt as easily as it could through water.

For some reason, the idea didn’t take with Sally either. It just seemed...wrong...somehow, to place such an enemy of the planet *itself* into the ground, like planting a tainted seed, spreading a cancer. Nothing would grow there. She just *knew* nothing would grow there again.

Sonic spoke for the first time; the hedgehog had been strangely quiet regarding the disposal of his arch nemesis. Sally eyed him with a crease of worry on her brow. Several times she’d heard him slip. He’d started talking about ‘How we gonna bring ole Buttnik down today?”...and then, after a moment’s pause, his face blushed. “Oh right. He’s dead.”

“Let’s burn the bastard. I don’t want him in our ground. He doesn’t really deserve that, yo.”

Sally twiddled her fork absently on her plate (she hadn’t yet touched her food), watching him, puzzled by the constraint in his voice – it was empty of the fierce emotion he usually displayed towards Robotnik.

“I mean,” he cast a sidelong glance at Sally, “You don’t want to give him a marker, do you? What – ‘here lies Robotnik, the most evil dude ever who ruined all our lives’? He shouldn’t have anything. He shouldn’t be remembered.”

Everyone was watching the blue hedgehog; he began to stir his chili around, his nostrils flaring. Sally felt the need to say something profound, to let Sonic know she heard his words. But she could only think of a rebuke. “Some things *need* to be remembered. So we learn.”

“We shouldn’t remember him,” repeated Sonic stubbornly, his head bowed.

Tails let out a little whimper. He was short enough to see Sonic’s expression as he slid alongside his idol’s chair.

Geoffrey looked savage, as if an epiphany had hit him...he leaned forward and snarled, rice spraying from his mouth. “I don’t think you *want* to forget, spineball! You ain’t anything special now, are you? You wish he was still alive, don’t you? You bloody HERO!!”

Sonic shot out of his chair like a spring, hurtling over the table and at Geoffrey. The skunk and chair toppled, his dish went clattering onto the floor. The two combatants were oblivious, rolling over into the spilled food. Sally had a horrific vision of gore and maggots wiggling upon their fur. Geoffrey picked up a piece of broken plate and attempted to hit Sonic with it; Sonic punched it away. It nearly struck Tails as it flew into the air – the kit ducked right in time.

“You shut it, St. Stink! You think I want him alive, after what he did?!” Sonic snarled, grappling at Geoffrey’s face.

“No Robotnik means no need for yer damn speed anymore! And you know it!” Geoffrey landed a hard punch to Sonic’s cheek.

They were wrenched apart violently, and held tightly – the sputtering Sonic by Bunnie - and Geoffrey, frothing, by Rotor. The walrus, despite his bulk, found it hard to keep the skunk restrained.

“Sit down!” Bunnie growled and roughly pushed Sonic into his chair. Rotor held Geoffrey a second later, then released him. The skunk took his seat without a word. He didn’t bother to pick up his plate.

“There’s never gonna be anyone like him again,” Sonic sounded like he was on the verge of tears. To cover it, he began to eat, his eyes gleaming with anger...and other things.

Sally knew Geoffrey was right, in some sense. Not all for selfishness Sonic’s fear was...but the fear too, of fading into uselessness. She felt her eyes sting with a rush of water and salt – she blinked it away. They’d spent their lives fighting. It was too hard to picture it otherwise, to picture one’s use when the war finally ended. Even though they’d all dreamed about this, hoped for this.

There was a tense period of silence, well mostly silence. The group in the corner were whispering again, along with some of the other tables. Sally took a drink, reluctant to draw attention back to herself – and Sonic.

Finally she cleared her throat, loudly, and stood up. “So...yes, fire. That’s what I was thinking too, but I wanted everyone’s opinion. Since he was an enemy so near and dear to all our hearts...” Her words tainted with sarcasm, trailed off, because the group in the corner were staring at her, and Sonic had even lifted his head to gaze at her. She felt her cheeks flame; her body chill.

His heart. Robotnik’s. If he had one. Emotionally he didn’t, physically, he had...and Sally had taken a knife and stabbed him through it. That’s how he’d finally died, with Sally hurling her full body weight behind that dagger, rending him open. Sonic had seen her, Tails, Antoine, they’d all seen her. Seen their noble Princess in savage murderous glory, stabbing at Robotnik like a psychopath.

She choked and nearly sat down.

It wasn’t MY fault, she wanted to cry. I was under a SPELL! I couldn’t stop myself! He was going to die anyway, because all of YOU ripped him apart, you clawed, and bit, and chewed him up, you punched and broke, mauled and mutilated him...YOU ALL DID IT.

What I did was trivial compared to that, and yet, I understand...I understand that you couldn’t help it, you were ensnared. Can’t you do the same for ME? Can’t you give me the same honor, the same forgiveness?!

But she didn’t. She tossed her hair, and frowning, continued on as if the stares didn’t matter. “Do we all agree to burn the body? A show of hands will do.”

After a moment’s hesitation, everyone in the room raised their hands. Sally stuck hers in the air as well, nodding. “Ok. Alright then. We’ll do it... tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Why not?” The young Princess sighed. “It’s been put off long enough.”

“Tonight, everyone,” said Sonic in a loud tone, commanding the room’s attention.

“I think it’s important to attend. So we can put this all behind us. So we can...can...*accept* what’s in the past, and move on.” And Sally sat down, and finally ate her meal, silently. The rest of the villagers returned to their whispering and eating.

King Acorn, looking as if he knew exactly what had occurred at the meeting, finally entered and helped himself to a bowl of chili.

Sally leaned forward as her father raised his spoon to his mouth. “The body is going to be burned...tonight.”

*******

Sometimes Casssar thought Death wasn’t the enemy, the ultimate betrayer of Life.

Sometimes, she mused, her eyes on the Black Flower, who was sleeping in the throne, his face haunted even in sleep, sometimes she thought that was the whole purpose. That everything in Life lead to Death. Death WAS the goal. But the more pain, the more love, the more joy, the more knowledge one gathered before passing the better. The better to enter the doorway.

Snively twitched on the throne, his long fingers curling, his mouth forming a word, like a silent ‘no’. He was changing, Casssar realized, slowly into something else. It was oh-so-subtle but it was there.

Death is the goal. You can’t rush it. It’s of its own accord. It’s CHANGE. Not a killing of life, a *change*.

From larvae to chrysalis to butterfly, from seed to bud to blooming rose...every time they change, they DIE. What they were is dead.

Snively jerked awake with a little shriek, staring across the room with wraiths in his eyes, clutching him – changing him oh-so-subtly.

Those beautiful blue eyes had gone to chrysalis.

Casssar felt pain inside her chest, like a bullet had rended her heart.

She suddenly hated Death with all her might.

********

The moon was sickle-shaped and a light wind had kicked up over Knothole. More than half the village milled around the bonfire pit, most of them looking like they wished they hadn’t come.

Doctor Quack was sporting a black version of his lab coat...his idea of a joke, Sally guessed. His nurse Bessie was clinging to his arm.

King Acorn struck up a fire with the help of Dulcy. Tails brought kindling, and soon there was a hearty blaze lighting up the dark.

The villagers mumbled uneasily as a grumbling Geoffrey and Tory pulled back the trap covering Robotnik’s body to peep under. Tory gagged. Geoffrey tried futilely to wave the stench away. “Blimey! He’s *ripe*, ain’t he?”

Sally wanted to hold her nose, but it would look undignified, but Tails and Dulcy didn’t care. They clamped paws over muzzles and backed away.

“Bloody hell, just about every bug in the Great Forest is in here-“

“ENOUGH, Geoffrey!” snapped the Princess. “Please, just get him...it...into the fire.”

Tory grabbed hold of Robotnik’s metal arm...it was probably the only part free of insects...and tugged. But even deteriorated Robotnik’s body was a massive weight. The badger grunted and gave up. “We’re gonna need some more hands to move this.”

Reluctantly, Sonic stepped forward. King Acorn and Rotor followed. Bunnie wrinkled her nose and joined them. “Alright, how’s about we roll ‘im into the fire?”

They did so, trying to keep the tarp in place. Even with Bunnie’s strength, it was a difficult task. They grunted and struggled, finally getting the body to roll. It took four rolls to get the body to the fire, all the while beetles and maggots spilled out from under the tarp, and the stench was almost unbearable.

“I’m gonna have to burn my gloves after this,” Sonic complained. Bunnie’s eyes were watering.

“At least yer wearing gloves!” said Tory.

With a great heave, they moved the corpse into the blaze. The fire smoldered and died down. Geoffrey took a jug of kerosene and sprinkled it over the tarp.

The flames roared up again, but hardly anyone stood by to catch their warmth. There were odd sizzling noises from under the tarp. The smell of burning rotting flesh was hardly appetizing and the tarp itself was throwing off an unpleasant smoke. The shifting winds did little to alleviate the odor.

But nobody left. They stood watching in silence. Sonic stripped off his gloves and threw them into the fire.

The tarp crinkled and distorted, bubbling from the heat, and peeling back to reveal their enemy. Their dead enemy...his sightless eyes, his monstrous hands...hands that had built weapons of destruction, hands that had fashioned machines to kill and enslave, hands that had drawn out plans to cast out their beloved king.

The monarch stood, hands clasped stiffly behind his back. A stoic statue. But his mustache quivered and his eyes held a sheen of wetness.

He cleared his throat gruffly and addressed the roaring flames.

“As you burn...I feel a change in me. As if something in me has died as well. The last of my naivety is in these flames. The rest of my childish thoughts that good can be found in every man. My mercy for deceivers goes with you. I hope you are proud of the changes you have wrought in me,” He spread his large hands, his eyes dangerously close to flooding, “I hope you find some worth in the afterlife for the crimes you committed.”

He turned to Sally, one of those quivering hands rested on her shoulder. “You have no idea how sorry I am for what I’ve done to you. To ALL of you.”

He looked the villagers over in turn, losing the battle against tears. They fell in twin lines down his peach cheek-fur, silent and noble agony for his grievous error, the trusting of Julian that led to the downfall of all their lives. But not a one stared back in accusation, or hate.

“Daddy, we don’t blame you.” Sally put her hand onto her father’s, squeezing his fingers. “Robotnik deceived *everyone*.”

The king nodded. He didn’t believe it.  He should’ve seen, shouldn’t have trusted.

But if they were willing to forgive him, shouldn’t he accept it, outwardly at least? Drowning in self-pity and brooding over past mistakes did no good to his people, as much as he wanted to indulge in the darkness and guilt. He patted his daughter’s hand. “Yes, he did. Deceived us all. Ruined our concept of trust.”

There was silence. King Acorn felt the need to add something positive, a ray of hope. “We have a new chance now, to rebuild and start over. Maybe someday...we can get that concept back.”

With those words, which seemed to hold a ring of untruth to Sally, but encouraged the others, the King retired to his hut. Most of the villagers followed his example and drifted away from the fire, until only a handful remained, along with the core Freedom Fighters.

The winds shifted direction and the pungent smoke washed over them. In a unison movement, everyone moved to the other side of the bonfire. The flames were rising higher now, obscuring the dead tyrant’s body from sight.

Antoine watched them in relief, glad that those eyes weren’t watching him anymore, and then he turned to Bunnie. His eyes were still haunted. He never had faith that the horrors were over, that the horrors could *ever* be over. “What do we do, mon amour, now that he is gone?”

“It’s not all that different, Antoine,” said Bunnie, and Sally’s gaze jolted in her direction. A hard frown touched her young face. How could the rabbot say that?

Was it her arms, her legs? They still consisted of hard cold metal, reflecting the firelight, strangely beautiful. They would get those fixed...somehow...

“Snively’s still alive.” Bunnie acknowledged Sally’s stare, though her own emerald eyes were still focused on her lover. “The fight ain’t over yet.”

Sally was unpleasantly surprised; she’d forgotten about Snively. The tyrant’s nephew – a murderer, betrayer, usurper. Treacherous and icy, he still lived. She knew why she’d forgotten. He was so small and insignificant. She’d never seen him as a threat, before, but now, with Bunnie’s words, she seemed to recall just WHY Robotnik was incinerating in front of them.

It wasn’t all because of Sally, with her enchanted hand and dagger. The order had come from Snively. How odd that she’d forgotten that.

It must be the stress. Worrying over this...’ She stared at the fire, And Sonic. Her eyes strayed to the blue hedgehog; he was talking with Tails. ‘Strange that I forgot the whole reason for this mess.’

‘But I should thank him too. Robotnik IS dead...’

She tried to dredge it up, feelings of joy, happiness, relief, feelings of hope and peace...

They seemed just as fleeting and insubstantial as flesh in flames...

******

*From the be-crowned head of I, Casssar, Queen of Robotropolis*

Two days passed. Every night when he slid from the throne, casting me a wink or perverted smile...I felt fear. I felt fear for him, you see, because I saw fear in his eyes. He was afraid to go to sleep, but he knew sleep was essential...he knew his fears were unfounded, and he wanted to fight it. So he retired, going to his bed...I wanted to conjure magic, place myself alongside him in his dreams and fight with him.

I should’ve. Maybe I should’ve. But I didn’t. I thought infringing on his battle...on this sort of battle...would be arrogant and not my place.

I wonder what he thinks.

Maybe I’ll ask him.

Right now...I just watch him...with fear shining in my eyes.

**

Knothole Village.

On the third day, the fire went out.

They let it go out. Geoffrey and Tory had steadily tended to it, ensuring that the body was fully cremated. When the flames finally died, and the embers finally cooled, they fetched King Acorn.

Sally was with him, and when Sonic saw them headed for the pit, he joined. Tails was loping alongside him. Bunnie and Antoine, nuzzling under a nearby tree, watched curiously.

“Well...the bloke’s finally gone.” Geoffrey nodded his magenta-bereted head towards the ashes. He stirred them up with a stick, then reached down, pulling out two metal cylinders. “A few parts are left...and we wanted to know what to do with ‘em.”

Nestled in Tory’s palms were two round black marbles with red dots...

Robotnik’s synthetic eyes. Geoffrey’s hands bore the tyrant’s artificial ears.

King Acorn picked up the last object left. He had to hold it in both hands.

The roboticized left arm of Julian Ivo Robotnik. It was by far the most disturbing and frightening item. A symbol of his power and cruelty.

Sally felt it wrong to throw these things away. They were horrible, but as she had voiced at the meeting...they MUST be remembered.

King Acorn reflected her thoughts. “Give them to me, St John. I’m going to lock them in a safe place. They are a piece of history...after all...”

The skunk nodded. He and Tory, along with the King, headed for the monarch’s hut.

“Sonic...” Sally said, as the hedgehog started to leave.

He turned back.

“I just want to tell you...” She stared at his bare hands, hanging by his sides. She wanted to hurl herself into his arms, and utter the next words. But she remained where she was, standing rigidly. “That...you’ll never be...useless, Sonic.”

He looked taken aback, and his cheeks flushed. “Er...well...no kidding, Sal!”

She wanted to whisper to him, as she clutched him... ‘I love you...’

He turned to leave again.

“I’m always here...if you need me,” she said...as he ran off.

******

Nightfall came like a funeral shroud, mourning the loss of day. Sally’s invitation to Sonic had gone unheeded; her love had not come to confide in her. Tails had been lurking about her that day, pretending to be nonchalant, but when she called him out and tried to talk to him, he too had retreated.

So, the night was here, and the sky was utterly dark...the cloud covering was thick enough to hide the moonlight. They didn’t move...for it was windless. She left her hut, feeling restless, and wandered the village. She went to the pool, thinking a chat with Cu Chulainne might ease her mind...but she changed her mind as she neared the water’s edge.

When she headed back to her hut, still quite unsettled, she passed by the firepit and its heap of ashes. She was struck by compulsion so strong that she hastened to her abode and began to fumble through her trinkets. A small jewelry box, given to her by Antoine a few birthdays ago, caught her eye. She didn’t own much jewelry so the box was not essential. She snatched it and returned to the pile of ashes.

With trembling hands, she undid the box’s clasp and lifted up lid. Then with hesitation, a moment to wonder why she was doing this, but unable to fight the compulsion, she scooped a handful of ashes into the box. They settled dully in the red velvet interior. Gray and dead and with the scent of burnt human flesh still clinging most vilely.

She sat on her haunches, staring at the crumbled remains, then started upwards. She really ought to leave. If Sonic saw her collecting Robotnik’s ashes, he would REALLY think something was wrong with her.

Half-temped to dump them out, Sally snapped the lid closed and stowed the box away in her hut, in the closet, on the highest shelf. She hoped the sickly smell would not seep through the box into her hut...

She paced, restlessly, and finally sank into bed, but sleep did not overtake her for many hours after...

******

**From the dreaming mind – ensnared in sleep – of Snively Kintobar, Tyrant of Robotropolis**

I stayed in the throne as long as I could. Even after Casssar finally left and went to bed. She cast me this long look before she left. I could see her brow crinkled under her dark fur. She was worried about me. Casssar wasn’t the type to show her concern outright. Kind of like me...

I wanted to tell her, you know, I wanted to whimper and curl in her arms, and beg her to hold me while I slept. But I’ve shown too much weakness in front of her already. I feel...I feel...like I can reveal myself to her...and yet...I don’t want to divulge TOO much. She is to see me as a lover, a friend, a confidant. But not a needy child.

I can fight him off. He’s DEAD.

He sent his blasted spirit into my dreams. I know he did, because Julian couldn’t STAND to see me happy. He has to crush my joy underfoot, stomp it, break it. He was always so skilled at destroying things...

You CAN’T break me NOW, Julian, you fucking DEAD bastard.

I threw this taunt into the mirror, staring at my reflection. Eyes glinted back at me. Cold. They always looked cold, throwing my defenses outwards, a ring of ice surrounding me. It kept some people out. Others...Julian...they took an icepick and smashed through it.

But you CAN’T get me NOW.

I smiled a cruel lopsided grin and turned my back on the mirror.

The lights flickered off, and I slid under the black blanket, the sheets cool on my body. Yes, this would be a beautiful slumber, a time to refresh the body.

I wondered why then...why my heart was pounding so hard.

**

...darkness. I’m engulfed in darkness.

No, NO!

My voice sounds like a squeal. A little piggy ripe for the slaughter.

There’s an odd numb pain in my chest, like someone has just stuck a knife there, and the shock is still hovering over. ...The pain will spill through any minute. I can smell something...strong and rich...and gagging...the smell of copper...copper...

Liquid copper....

Blood.

The pain hits me like a sledgehammer and I screa-

-m Light floods over suddenly, searing my eyes. The only reminder of the previous pain is a dull ache. 

I blink.

I’m in a large room, metal-plated, but the harsh surface is softened by tendrils of ribbons, colorful hanging banners, and balloons. Sparkling confetti is strewn across the floor and floating lazily in the air. I breathe in; the air is pleasant with the smell of cake and fresh fruit.

Is this a celebration then? A table against the wall is laden with food and a bowl of punch. I find myself clad in a suit (quite sharp-looking, if I do say). The guests of this party are odd shadowy figures...I can make out a tuxedo here, and a sequined evening gown there...but the faces are hidden...like obscured behind smoke. I frown...and then my eyes catch the one substantial being.

Casssar. She is moving towards me. Wearing a floor-length red dress, her black hair piled atop her head. A few loose tendrils fall to frame her face.

My heart leaps into my throat and my brow sweats...I blush...there is a swelling inside these dress pants...an agitated, elated gasp for the sight of her. She is beyond beautiful, my Queen...she rips apart clichés of dark goddesses, because SHE is the one true embodiment of the term.

“For you,” she purrs, a sweeping arm indicating the room. “For your glory, Black Flower. We celebrate you. You killed your Master Fear. How many of us can say we’ve done such a feat?”

A man is lurking behind her, and he drapes an arm across her shoulder. He is an ermine like her, but white-furred. He whispers into her ear and I strain to catch the mummered flow of words. I am abashed by the phrases I catch. “...filthy little whore...”

A tear drips down her cheek.

I realize his identity. Her father! I wish I could kill him! I tense my legs to lunge...and blink...and he is gone. A smile spreads over Casssar’s lips.

“Yes...you killed your greatest fear, Castdecass. HIM.” She waves airily to the guests and I eye them, feeling a weird knot in my stomach, like I might vomit. She clasps me by the arm and leads me to the refreshment table. “Let us drink...to celebrate your victory.”

There is something off-putting about her smile. Stale...rotten, somehow...but this is *Cass*. She dips a ladle into the bowl of punch and prepares a glass. She hands the heavy crystal mug to me. The punch is a deep crimson color, and I see my face distorted as I examine it. Cass’s hand touches my arm. She raises her glass.

“A toast...”

We clink the glasses. I tilt it to my mouth, swallow the drink...it is thick and so pungent that I nearly gag. It tastes...like...

“...to the little murderer.”

...death? I cough.

I jerk my head up and stare at Casssar. She is grinning, cruelly, her mouth smeared with the liquid. It’s dripping down her chin and onto her breasts. I can see, behind her, some of the guests coming into focus...

There is Sally and Sonic. They are kissing, and one of his hands is deliberately pouring the punch onto her dress, staining the white fabric scarlet.

“What...what...is this stuff?” I whimper...because my stomach feels like its on fire, and a line is burning down my throat. It’s...I throw down the cup in panic, and it shatters onto the floor. The liquid bubbles when it touches the metal...like acid. It’s...

“Julian’s BLOOD.”

I sputter, spitting out the contents in my mouth.

Casssar drops her glass alongside mine, in a deliberate mimic. “Don’t think I can SAVE you.” ...A shriek escapes her and she melts into a puddle of black sludge. I whimper and kneel down, grabbing at it, but it burns my fingers...

Sonic and Sally throw back their heads and laugh.

“How does it taste? You filthy little killer. You ungrateful little maggot.” Sally is standing above me, suddenly.  She grabs me by the throat and lifts me. I can’t breathe! Her claws are puncturing my skin and I feel the blood ooze. She slams me down onto the table and lifts the punch bowl up.

I try to roll away, but two more Freedom Fighters, the French fox and the two-tailed boy are suddenly there, holding me down.

With a horrific hissing sound, the punch sloshes out of the bowl....Sally empties the entire contents onto me...and I...

SCREAM....

Oh, Gods...NO, it’s burning me...

It’s EATING...

Sonic is still laughing...he has come to stand by the table. Sally’s dress is completely red, and dripping, and they are kissing with the blood dripping down from their mouths...

“THE GUEST OF HONOR!” Sally howls suddenly, and laughing, she and Sonic walk over to a curtain on the far corner of the room. I, screaming, writhing, my skin boiling, turn my head to see.

“He came...just for you...” Sally’s cobalt eyes lock with mine. “We brought HIM ALIVE just for YOU.”

Sonic rips away the curtain, and it falls.

I get a hand free, and strike the boy. He stumbles backwards. Clawing and biting, I wrench my way free of the French Fox... I snatch up the cake knife from the table and jam it into his throat.

He collapses with a spew of blood from his mouth.

I don’t care. I have to get away! My eyes are burning agony. I’m blinking tears, snot dripping from my nose, my skin blistering from where HIS blood touched it...NO. NO. NO. I scream so hard that I could snap vocal cords.

From behind the curtain he lurches like a drunk. His sightless eyes are latched on me, his mouth gaped open, teeth cracked and broken off into points. I scramble backwards, but my foot slips in something slick and I fall down upon my rear. It is the puddled remains of Casssar.

I stagger to my feet, sobbing, eyes blurred in terror... he is near enough now to smell his putrid breath, and see the rotting ragged wounds upon him, infested with insects. A hissing laugh escapes his throat. “How pleasant to see you again...Nephew...” His voice is thick, like speaking through oatmeal. A maggot wiggles past his tongue and falls upon the floor... he pays it no heed. A rusted and mud-caked robotic arm reaches for me.

I turn to flee...I can outrun him...PLEASE...

My arms are seized by Sonic and yanked roughly behind my back...the pain is excruciating. My blurred vision is cleared as tears drop.

Uncle begins to laugh, a horrid strangled sound...the bugs fall like spit from his mouth.

“No...NO...god...Let me GO!” My voice...a little piggy ready to be executed...

The French Fox has pulled the knife from his throat and stands holding it, grinning. The blood gushes in a torrent down his shirt. But I don’t watch him for long...My vision turns back to HIM...as that robotic arm grabs me by the collar, and lifts me up. Just like old times...but he is DEAD!

I cry as his hand descends upon my chest, stroking me...oozing onto me. It burns...GOD...it’s burning me...I wiggle...but he won’t let go.

“Did you MISS me...Snively?” His breath washes over me, and I nearly die there.

“No, Julian...please...”

“Please what? You MURDERED me, you deceitful WORM.” He holds out his flesh hand...the glove eaten away and the bone showing through. The French Fox glides to him and places the cake knife into the massive palm.

Julian turns his gaze back to me. “But I’ll return your gift, dear boy...over and over...because they’ll keep bringing you back...for ME...”

His hand clutches the knife and I try to wiggle free...screaming until my throat bleeds, but I can’t escape...and the knife plunges forward and into my body...

It hurts...

I die.

I die with Julian’s eyes blazing into mine...and his laugh...

Ripping my head apart...

I wake up crying blood.

********

Casssar was half-awake, her eyes locked on the ceiling. Light was shifting across it, morning sunlight...and the fact that it played there was amazing to her. The clouds outside must have shifted, finally. She thought this could be a good omen.

But so often things thought to be good turned sour. In her experience, anyway.

Maybe it was a revelation. The shedding of light upon something dark?

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to uncover the shadows...maybe they were better left alone.

But she watched in wonderment, anyway.

From the intercom speaker on her wall, came a rasping voice, cooing, “Casssar...come to my room...HURRY...Cass!”

She groaned and tried to ignore him, but her Black Flower was insistent.

“CASS, HURRY!”

Something was wrong in his tone...something off. He was on the edge. She could almost feel his heart in her chest, thumping madly...she could taste the salt of his sweat.

Mmm. Divine. She enjoyed his fear, sometimes. Alive, it made him...flush-faced and shining wide eyes. Vulnerable and so easy to crush...

She gritted her teeth as feet hit the cold floor.

No. He was not one to be broken. She was a mender now...

Not to follow in HIS footsteps...

His...uncle...?

Or her...father...

And she snarled and stamped out of the room, head tossing like an angry bull, her thick locks snapping around her face.

“I will NEVER be like that BEAST.”

“Casss...”

She went down long cold hallways, with her thoughts sleepy but warm. He was fooling with her...feigning distress only to lead her into a soft bed and dimmed lights and wet kissing lips.

She wanted to believe that, to indulge in the fire-fly glow of his darkness and not the other dark... The dark of her past and the impending madness hinted at in Snively’s voice. He WAS just TEASING her, she thought hopefully.

She reached his room. The door slid open for her and she entered.

She could smell the panicked fluttering in his veins. It was ghosting him. He was sitting on his bed, his knees drawn up to his chest, but draped forward over them, looking predatory, and disturbed. There was blood beading up from scratches on his arms, like he had a furious itch he couldn’t get rid of...like he was trying to scratch something off his skin...

He was afraid, but his fear was not turning him into a simpering coward. It was making him into the caged and cornered beast. He grinned at the sight of her, his eyes gleaming. “Oh Casss...I’m so glad you came...”

Casssar took a few steps towards the bed; Snively slid off, his skinny form nearly nude. It was hot in Robotropolis at this time of year, Summer’s edge, and he only slept in his briefs. She had a feeling he hadn’t called her here to remove them, not now.... No. He hadn’t been teasing.

“Come here, Cass...I have something to tell you...But not in here.” He grimaced and rubbed viciously at his arms with short ragged nails. “Come here.” He snatched her arm roughly and yanked her towards his bathroom.

“What is on your mind, Black Flower?” She raised a quizzical eyebrow as he turned the shower on, hot, the steam swiftly dampening the air. It felt unpleasantly humid on her fur.

Seemingly unmindful of his underwear, the small man stepped into the shower and pressed himself into the corner, eyeing her madly. “I had a dream...”

She decided if she was to be in here, she might as well bathe herself as well. A long black leg stepped onto the tiled shower floor, and its mate soon followed. She let the water beat down on her, flattening her fur to her body, gushing into her eyes.

Kinky. She grinned at him impishly, wishing he would shed his odd mood and join her in a little fun...but he remained where he was. The water was dripping in a steady line off his pointed nose. “They’re going to bring him back.”

She picked up his bottle of body soap and squirted some at him. It hit his stomach, foaming into whiteness, obscuring the scars that HE had caused. He blinked, but only from the water getting in his eyes. Nonplussed, she set the bottle down, her lip curled. “They are NOT going to do that, Snively-“ She always spoke his ‘real’ name when wanting to catch his attention- “Why would they WANT him back? How would they bring back?”

“Cu Chulainne.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Cu Chulainne could never be swayed into bringing back such a vile man.” She smiled suddenly. “I imagine Cu wouldn’t bring me back either.”

“It brought ME back,” said Snively sourly.

“I’m worse than you...” She thrust her face into his, strangely desiring to grab his head and smash it into the wall, and watch the blood mingle with water down his pouty lips. She would lick it off...

He didn’t argue, but his expression was hardly agreeable. She kept smiling and without warning he curled into the corner, sinking to the floor. A few whimpering cries escaped him. “They will...they WILL!” A childish sobbing met her ears next and she was half-tempted to kick him...the other half wanted to embrace her Black Flower until his ribs cracked.

“Stop IT,” she said sharply. “Cast, you are acting like a fool!”

He fumbled for the bottle, ignoring her, and began to furiously scrub the soap onto his arms and chest, and all over, raking his skin until he drew blood. “I can’t get it OFF me...IT BURNS...it BURNS!”

“What burns?” The water didn’t feel THAT hot.

“HIS BLOOD.” He looked up with gritted teeth. “It’s STILL on me. I can feel it...Cass...like little burning spots on my skin...like it’s fucking DESTROYING me.”

“You are letting it!” She batted angrily at the water. “You are letting him HAUNT you.”

“Oh yes, Cass. He won’t go away. I try, you know. I try to get rid of him.” He dug a fingernail into one his slender arms. “Maybe if I just rip it all off....get rid of the parts the blood touched...”

She didn’t say anything, because she couldn’t think of a response. So she just stared at him, her hair lying in limp tendrils around her face. It made her head feel incredibly heavy.

He stood up rather suddenly, startling her, and leaned his face upwards, artic blue eyes bored into hers. One slender finger pressed into her lip, and then he cradled her face, a seriousness settling over his features. “I’ve figured it out, though, Casssar. What to do...”

“What would that be...?” Her voice was a whisper.

The water hissed around them. For seconds. A minute. She was nearly choking on the thick steam.

“They all have to die.”

*******

Dear Journal,

I took out Robotnik’s ashes today and stared at them. I even touched them. I can still smell the stink on my hands.

But he’s gone now.

Everything is just fine.

She closed the book with a snap. Maybe someday, she would look back and not realize that last line was a lie. Because maybe everything would be just fine.

She decided, washing her hands, that today was the day to rip down the walls between she and Sonic.

Even if she had to lie. Or betray her family secret...

Outside was a turmoil. The wind was blowing hard. Leaves scattered high-speed across the ground, chasing each other, flying as fast as they could away from Knothole. She wished she could fly with them...this place of sanctuary had grown dark.

Dear Journal...Knothole has never been happier. It’s like the clouds of war have lifted.

She looked up. The skies were gray and deep colonial blue.

She went back to her hut and tied her mussed hair in a bun, then eyed the room, seeing if anything needed immediate attention. But the place was clean.

‘Quit stalling!’ She glared sternly into the mirror and outside she went once again.

With her hair out of her face, she pretended she could see things more clearly. Like how to reconcile...

Going past the fire pit, she noticed most of the ashes had blown away.

Dear Journal

He really IS gone now. Everything is so perfect. Like we’ve forgotten all the pain he wrought.

She searched for Sonic, checking his hut, the pool, the training grounds, the guard posts, searching, going back to each spot again...checking the café and everywhere...but he was not to be found.

The entire time she strode about, she had a vague feeling of being watched. But she probably was. The villagers eyed her suspiciously whenever they saw her. Some even went the other way, as if expecting her to pull a knife on them.

So she ignored it, for a while, until she noticed one constant: Tails. He was sneaking around her, sometimes walking innocently, and other times making a conscious (though not very good) effort to keep out of sight.

Either Tails was looking for Sonic too, and strangely, in the exact places and order she was, or he was following her. Tailing Tails. He was always keen on that spy stuff. Uncle Chuck had yet to answer to Tails’ enthusiastic request to join the elder hedgehog on some of his missions. She had a very good feeling Tails was practicing on her.

She debated letting him play, but she was getting annoyed, and so she spoke. “Tails...hey. I know you’re in there. Come out.”

Reluctantly, the kit emerged from a bush. A leaf was stuck to his ear and he flicked it off. “Yeah Aunt Sally?”

“Have you seen Sonic?”

“Uh...” His eyes darted around. “Er...no.”

“You have no idea where he is?”

“Er no...uh...”

He had a better vocabulary than that. He only seemed to forget it when he was lying.

“Tails, it’s important I find him.” She sighed impatiently. “I know you know where he is, honey.”

He covered his eyes with his hands. “I’m not supposta tell.”

She frowned, thinking. So...Sonic was keeping tabs on her through Tails. Typical. Or perhaps not. Sonic usually never hesitated to question her himself.

He had been lacking in those issues of trust and love, lately. A hard gust of wind nearly bowled her over; for a moment she thought it was from him. The trees bent and rustled and a parade of whirling leaves blew past her face. She thought of flying with them again, following them away from here...following...

“Ok, Tails. How about I follow you to where Sonic is? Then you won’t have to tell me.”

The boy turned his toes inwards, rocking, uncertain. Then he looked up, scrutinizing her closely.

“It’s me, Tails,” she assured him. “I’m the same. It’s just...that things have changed. Knothole has changed.”

Tails stood up straight. “Ok. Follow me.”

                              *******

Tails led her from Knothole. They walked for quite a ways. Sally thought he was leading her to Robotropolis...but they veered off-course from the city and went further into rocky barren areas.

She heard the bubbling of hot water and nodded in realization. The hot springs. They were off-limit to most Knothole residents due to their dangerous proximity to Robotnik’s empire. Sonic, of course, had never obeyed the rules, and she even heard other voices talking along with his as they drew closer.

Dear Journal

Robotnik is gone and we’re so safe. Or so we think. Everyone was so glad that one threat was dead...that they forgot the other, and it pounced and ripped out their throats.

But even she wasn’t worried. Snively...he wasn’t the face she saw when she thought of the words: Dangerous, fatal, formidable. Even after what he’d done to prove he fit those definitions.

She kept telling herself that Snively was of the same blood as Robotnik, of the same treacherous ambitions. Robotnik was a grenade...far more devastating, while Snively was a pistol. But pistols, though small, were still just as deadly.

Maybe she and Sonic would discuss him, but not until they mended this rift first...

He was in a crater of steaming water. In a separate crater were Bunnie, Dulcy, and Antoine. They were talking loudly over the frothing liquid, apparently sharing some silly jokes. Sonic fell silent in mid-laugh at the sight of she and Tails.

Bunnie covered the awkward moment smoothly. “Come on in, Sally-girl, the water’s jus’ fine!”

Just the heat from the steam was making Sally sweat, but if it gave her a chance to talk to Sonic... She stripped off her boots and vest and put them onto the ground in a neat pile. Then tentatively, toes curling up, she dipped a foot into the water.

Ouch. Hot.

“Isn’t a bit warm for this?” She questioned, sinking her entire leg in.

“It’s nice once ya get in,” Bunnie replied. Both she and Antoine’s hands were concealed under the water, and Antoine was grinning. Sally rolled her eyes.

“If you say so.”

Tails hopped in with the others, while Sally slowly lowered her torso into the water. It was deep in the middle, reaching to her chin. She walked to where Sonic was seated on an underwater ledge, and joined him. The heat was making her feel limp and weak.

“So,” said the hedgehog, casting a glance over at Tails. “You found me.”

Sally nodded. “We need to talk. I mean...a real talk.”

He gave her an ‘Aww, do we have to?’ look but she did not blanch. Midnight blue eyes replied: “Oh yes. We most certainly do.”

Sonic sighed and stood up. “Hey look guys, me an’ Sal need some...private time.” He winked at Antoine, but the fox wasn’t buying Sonic’s nonchalant attitude. He and Bunnie exchanged glances. Tails looked nervous. Dulcy was blowing bubbles underwater, totally oblivious.

The hedgehog and squirrel left the crater and went out of earshot where they slipped into another steamy tub, much smaller. She thought this could be romantic, if they were on regular terms again. But Sonic looked uncomfortable, and for a while they didn’t speak a word.

She decided to be blunt. “All right, Sonic. I want you to tell me...what is wrong with me?”

He looked startled. “What? Wrong with you, Sal?”

“Yes.”

“Er...well nothing.”

She raised an eyebrow.

He fidgeted. “It’s just that...I...” He took a deep breath and poked a large bubble. It broke and he blurted out,” I don’t know if you’re the same person anymore.”

Dear Journal

Oh, is that all? When Sonic said that I felt such great relief.

She was so glad of the steam. Making their fur wet and drip. He wouldn’t know the water seeping off her chin wasn’t just condensation.

But he was right, in a way. She wasn’t the same, no, not exactly the same as she had been before the fall of Robotnik. None of them were. She could argue, that with each passing second, they all changed just a tiniest bit. But to warp beyond recognition? She hadn’t...couldn’t have done that.

She wanted to argue vehemently against him, but she gave quarter. “All right...so...so... I have changed a little. We’re all bound to change now that such an important thing our lives,” she watched a bubble pop, explode into nothingness, “is gone.”

He concentrated on chasing a cluster of bubbles with his finger. “Ok...yeah.”

She could tell he was preparing to say something else; she waited, and finally he looked up, emerald eyes searching her. Testing the waters, as it were.

“I can get why you killed him...but it’s the how that’s got me. It’s like it wasn’t even you.”

She opened her mouth, but he was only pausing for a breath.

“St. John told me it was a spell. Everyone was under some spell. He says he remembers it, even though some of the others don’t.”

Oh. How to do this? To completely spill the Family secret? Or to only tell him of Casssar? How would that explain her fighting back, when Cu Chulainne had helped her fight against Casssar? He’d seen it. He’d seen her shooting magic out of her fingertips.

“I WAS under a spell, and so was everyone else,” She agreed.

He was quiet.

“Sonic, you SAW his body. I couldn’t have done all THAT to him. They attacked him...but it wasn’t their fault!”

“I know...” he said, slowly, the tone of voice when one wants to believe, and does, mostly, but still has a nagging doubt, “Snively’s chick did it. Croissant, or whatever.”

Despite herself, Sally laughed. “That’s CASSSAR, Sonic.”

“Whatever. She’s the one who did it?” He was nodding as he said it. Casssar had attacked him with magic. He knew she had power.

“Yes. So Snively could kill Robotnik...” She clenched her fists underwater, lowered her head so he couldn’t see her eyes. Just remembering how Snively had turned them into murderers unwilling...it made her rage tremble like a heart attack inside her. It nearly killed her with its intensity. She wanted to hurt him again, she wanted to tear him open. “He USED us.” Her voice held a rare undercurrent of loathing.

Sonic frowned heavily, and he was finally compelled to touch her...resting one of his bare hands on her arm. “Don’t worry, Sal. We’ll get him too.”

She clenched her hand around his. “Sonic...why didn’t you trust it was me?” She was always so dignified and composed. But right now...maybe the heat was putting cracks in her wall...a slight tremor shook her voice. It HURT her to think of Sonic mistrusting her,  to think of him believing she was a corrupted person. It was like...like years of their friendship and love had taught him nothing about her.

“It was just...” He looked so ashamed, his ears flattened to his head. “Snively found Knothole...and it was like...how did he find it? And that was the day you were running towards Knothole...like all weird-acting. I mean, I KNOW!” He tightened his hand on her arm, “I Know you would NEVER, but...it was just...so much stuff happened. You know? I just...I want to know how he found it. I KNOW it wasn’t you,” He finished desperately, averting his eyes.

She was quiet a moment. The moment of truth. Whether to tell the truth... the whole truth and nothing but the truth...or the truth, a half-truth and nothing OF the real truth?

“I think it was Casssar,” she said finally. That wasn’t altogether a lie. Casssar and Snively had found their Source pool...Casssar had an obsession with the Source, Cu Chulainne had told her. “She ...sensed Knothole. And Snively found out somehow.”

“Maybe,” he said. He shuddered a little, probably thinking of Casssar and her magical attack on him. “Yeah, maybe. She was...pretty creepy.” He eyed her again, keenly. His gaze was so perceptive that Sally thought maybe...Sonic wasn’t as dim-minded as some believed him to be, even herself sometimes. He was almost always shrouded in bravado and immature boyhood ways. It belied any mature intelligence within. “But you two...seemed to know each other. Just how do you know her, Sally?”

“I’ve met her before.” Sally sank a little further into the bubbles, her eyes half-closing. Her muscles felt like they were turning into limp useless masses. “She was with Snively... I was out near Robotropolis. And I bumped into them. He wasn’t trying to get me or anything, it was weird. And she talked to me...” She frowned. “She’s very interested in magic. Maybe...maybe there’s something magical in Knothole that she sensed.” She was treading the thin line between lies and truth. She was starting to see black and white and not the gray in-between. For Daddy, she had to stay in the gray. For herself...she had to stay out of the black. For Sonic, she SHOULD stray into the white. The absolute truth.

“Geoffrey met her too,” the hedgehog yawned; the heat was getting to him too. “He said he met her an’ Snively in the woods. She attacked him.” He chuckled. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it was Snively who kicked HIS butt.” He let out a guffaw. “Stinky said he ‘chased them off’. Ha!”

She didn’t say anything. Now that they were getting along again, she didn’t want to chastise him for teasing Geoffrey. At least the skunk wasn’t around to hear, so it could be ignored.

Sonic yawned again. “How about we get out? My legs are like mush.”

“Good idea.”

They clambered out of the stone basin and sat down on the hard ground, leaning back against the rocks. Sally felt like she could sleep for a day and then some; Sonic’s eyelids were drooping.

“Where did she come from, I wonder...” The hedgehog raised a hand to scratch his chin, but it fell down limply halfway there. He sighed.

She was wondering if they’d ever get their strength back. At least her heart felt stronger. Like a part lost to it had been found again.

“I don’t know.”

“Well...we’ll get her too.” Sonic turned his head to look at her. “And Sal...I’m sorry.”

She said nothing, but her eyes accepted.

They sat for a long while in contented, blissful silence.

                              ********

After dinner that night, Sally sought out a certain Mobian, and together she and Geoffrey took a walk down to the Ring Pool.

Dear Journal...all the lies I wrote in you before seem like truth.

Sonic and I are back again. I feel like I could fight forever now. But we don’t have to. The end of the war is drawing near.

She might look back upon that years later and feel like a fool for writing it. But for now, it felt true.

Some of the trees were already turning colors. This did not bode well with Sally...it was barely the end of Summer. Fall was too eager to come...perhaps it was being pushed forcefully by Winter. She had never liked the cold seasons, it was like things were too long asleep, too dead...and there was always gray skies and mind-numbing winds to kill the spirit.

“But everything’s so clean, luv. It’s like everything’s fresh and clean.”

Under a layer of snow, you can’t see the branch that will trip you and break your ankle.

“You never saw what happened outside with Robotnik and I,” She found herself staring across the pool at the spot where the hidden door to the Source cave was located. She couldn’t see it through all the foliage.

“No, but I know enough.” Geoffrey skipped a stone across the disturbed surface of the pool. The wind was still volatile. “Why? Those village idiots gettin to ya, luv?”

“It just that they don’t remember anything. How much do YOU remember?”

“Snively and that bitch woman. Possessed us and then everything was like a bloody haze. I knew I was walking and I could even hear some things...you were screaming.” He frowned. “We were as good as frozen. But we all KNOW it was that bitch’s spell.”

“But their memories about killing Robotnik...were...were erased-“ Sally halted in mid-sentence and pretended to have a coughing fit.

After patting her on the back and ensuring she was alright, Geoffrey spoke. “Yeah. So they wouldn’t remember what they did. Kind of unfair that YOU have to remember it.” He spoke as if she’d said nothing enlightening. She eyed him suspiciously. He, smiling innocently, chucked another stone. “But they all KNOW there was magic involved.”

“Then why are they shunning me?” She spilled out, exasperated. She sat upon the large log, putting her chin in hand.

“Because they’re idiots, like I said, mate.” He searched for another stone, but seeming bored with that, he gave up and sat next to her. “They’re just friggin’ afraid by what happened, and they don’t get how Robotnik got to be layin’ dead in the middle of Knothole. And everyone heard about you...” He made a stabbing motion. “No doubt their little minds couldn’t handle that.”

“Well, perhaps I should hold a meeting.” She mused. “All of US,” she was indicating the core Freedom Fighters, “All of us know that it was Casssar that helped Snively found Knothole.” Well, she was hoping they all knew. She had already spoken to Bunnie about it, lying about the Source, as daddy had prohibited the mention of it. But Bunnie had believed her half-truths all the same, and had spread the information to Antoine. “The rest of them will listen to US.”

“Oh, so Sonic stopped acting like a bloody fool, eh?” Geoffrey spat on the ground. “Ain’t feeling too top-notch lately, is he?”

A hard look was shot the skunk’s way. “I heard you talked to him. It sounded like it was almost civil.”

“Yeah. That pincushion,” Geoffrey grinned sheepishly as she frowned, “*Sonic* had some questions for me. About you...”

“Seems odd he would go to you,” she said. “You two aren’t exactly friends. And well...the subject matter...” She didn’t finish that sentence. Her fling with Geoffrey was usually a sore spot for the skunk. He hated to be reminded that he had lost her to Sonic. But today, he didn’t seem to mind.

She was rather startled by the realization. It wasn’t just now, but lately, Geoffrey just didn’t care anymore. Maybe he’d found another woman to pursue. Maybe he’d accepted that she loved Sonic? All animosity he held towards Sonic now was for other reasons; she was no longer part of the equation.

She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved...or mystified by this. Either way, it was odd. Like seeing bare tree branches when for months before, they had been covered in leaves.

“Well, the poor boy was all bloody confused. I really couldn’t believe he was doubting you, either, luv.” The skunk cast her an affectionate, yet void of coveting, smile. “I see he finally got his stinking brains sorted out.”

“Uh yes. Thanks, Geoffrey.”

“No prob, luv.”

She left him alone there, going back to her hut. She paced, feeling unsettled once again.

But everything’s alright now.

It was just something...was off. She picked up a photo of her and her beloved hedgehog, and right in the middle of the glass was a big smudged fingerprint. It was something wrong, something blurring a scene of perfection. She rubbed it off, but it didn’t help ease the greasy smear in her mind.

Why did Geoffrey seem to know so much? Just clever guesswork? A gut assumption? Why would Geoffrey have those feelings and NOT Sonic, the one who was supposed to truly know her heart and soul...he WAS part of her soul...soul mates...and soul mates KNOW the truth about each other.

Maybe Sonic isn’t for you...

Thinking that thought made her stop pacing in her tracks, her teeth set and her fists clenched. She wanted to scream, suddenly.

Dear Journal,

I have known since the age of five years that Sonic was meant for me. We are the opposites that attract, we are the fire and ice that melt together into a calm tranquil lake. We are sky and trees, winged birds, we are the night and the day and twilight in-between. I can’t describe this, but I just KNOW.

Sonic would never leave me. I would never leave him. Never, through doubt, or hate, or pain.

Sonic and I ARE SOUL MATES.

So, that wasn’t it, then. She threw down the pen, slammed the journal shut. That most certainly was not the fingerprint on her perfect sunset photograph.

I’ll wipe this one clean.

She nodded, flicked out the lights, and fell into dreams, chasing in the dark without a flashlight, searching for solutions that fled faster than she could run...

                              ******

Two days blossomed and withered. A young hapless girl, barely 20 years of age, found herself in a place of perpetual darkness: Robotropolis.

She ran in a panic, trying to escape it, as if all the hounds of hell were snapping at her heels.

They weren’t.

A troop of five SWATbots was.

                              ******

Breakfast that morning was fruit, bread and eggs. The Freedom Fighters sat around one of the wooden tables outside, leisurely talking and planning the day’s events. They mostly consisted of relaxation and games.

Everyone was startled, leaping out their seats, as out of nowhere, a sleek brown falcon glided down and landed atop the table, balancing delicately on top of the fruit salad bowl.

No one knew quite what to do. Geoffrey cried, “Blimey! Git outta here!” He waved his magenta beret at the bird, but it merely blinked. Antoine shrieked. Bunnie pointed to the falcon’s leg, where a rolled parchment was tied.

“Look, it’s a message from someone!”

The falcon cocked its head, eyeing her squarely. A shriek came from its curving beak, acknowledging her words.

“Well, we’d better look at it then, eh?” The rabbot extended her metal arm cautiously towards the falcon.  It didn’t move, so drawing in a breath, she put forth her flesh hand too and quickly untied the paper. When the threads were unbound, the bird shrieked again and sailed back into the sky, and out of view over the trees.

“What’s it say?” Everyone stared expectantly at Bunnie. She unrolled the parchment and scanned it.

“Greetings, Freedom Fighters

Your liege, King Maximillion, has informed us of Robotnik’s downfall. We come to bring praise to your fierce warriors. It is also time, we believe, to take back the city that is rightfully yours. We shall be arriving soon.’ It’s signed, ‘Chieftain Lupe and the Wolf Pack.”

“Oh yay, Lupe!” Dulcy clapped her hands. Tails looked excited. The dragon and fox had made friends with some of the younger wolf pack members.

Sally was less enthused. She took the paper from Bunnie and reread it. “They want to fight? Already?”

“That’s like them,” said Geoffrey approvingly.

“It’s been a week,” Sonic agreed. “Ole Snootly is gonna think we’re goin’ soft.”

Geoffrey laughed. “The brat is probably pissin’ himself worrying when we’ll come back!”

Sally frowned. “Don’t underestimate him, *anyone*,” Her gaze was focused most specifically on Sonic and Geoffrey, the two most brash Freedom Fighters. “Remember, not only does he have Casssar, but Snively has proved that he seriously lacks morals.”

“We already knew that,” said Bunnie.

“Yes...but we...we never thought he was capable of...well...” She was tired of thinking about it, “We never thought he was capable of that sort of...murder.”

“We’ll take him down,” the skunk said calmly, picking up his plate.

Sally nodded and after helping clean up the table, she, Bunnie, and Sonic decided to go down to the Great River to fish and relax. There was not much preparations to be done for the Wolf Pack’s arrival. They tended to bring tents and sleep outside; they preferred it.

The grass was green and fresh, and the skies were clear. The blustering wind from the previous days had died down to allow the sun’s warmth to seep into the still air.

They caught fish and Sally watched them struggle, dying, suffocating. She wanted to throw them back and let them go free. But she kept thinking ‘food, food...we need extra food.’

Food. Food for thought.

Robotnik had been so easy to take down. It didn’t seem right, for evil to crumble like dust. But he had left his marks behind...he had left his influence. He had left an heir.

‘I have to feed,’ she thought.

She had questions starving to be answered. Thoughts to sort.

‘I’ll have to go to Cu, later. To talk.’

In the meantime, she jerked back on her line, reeling in a glistening silver fish, and bringing it to lay on the emerald ground. It writhed. So easy to die.

Maybe evil could die that easy, too.

                              *******

Casssar went down to the command room that fine smoggy morning with a craving. She had woken up quite hungry...for more than one thing.

She beheld Snively with a slight curl of her lip.

Black Flower did not seem like he would fulfill either hunger today. Her hungers... one of the stomach, churning, growling. She wanted to feast. But Snively hadn’t been eating lately. The terrors in his sleep cast shadows around his eyes, put him off his food. His little pale face was darkened with a heavy scowl, bony body sprawled in the throne. He didn’t blink to the sight of her.

Her other hunger...she licked her lips. Hunger for flesh, for heat. She had been wanting to share pleasure with him for a long while now.

He lifted his eyes, glaring.

She sighed, a hand clasped to a hip. She did not want to starve today.

A hard sway was put into those full hips; she strode to the throne and stood before him, tall, black, sensual...eyes hooded. Glinting with smoke and lust.

Snively eyed her. His gaze lingered on her lips, as her tongue snuck out to swipe, then traveled over her body. “You’re looking...nice...today, Cass.”

“Ah. Glad you noticed, Cast.” His skin was cold as she touched a finger to his cheek. He did not nuzzle her hand today.

She voiced that aloud. “It’s a bit cold in here... Between us.”

He jolted back in the throne, casting her a reproachful look. “There’s...too...too much to think of. I...I can’t seem to fit anything else in my mind. And certainly...” He grabbed her hand sharply by the wrist as it traveled down his stomach. “No room for things like THIS.”

“Think about what?” Her teeth bared and she wrenched her hand away. “There is NOTHING to be thought of!” She whirled around, gesturing at the Command room. “Everything here is under control. The city is fine.”

Snively grunted. “You don’t have to worry, Cass. You don’t see what I see.”

She turned back, and a hand shot forward, grinding knuckles into his ribs. The day they’d killed Robotnik...she had touched his ribs then, and Snively had cringed and cried out. They had been bruised by his master. And now? He only flinched at her sudden movement. The injuries had healed. “Your body is fine and well again, Black Flower! It will be from NOW ON.”

“No,” he said stubbornly, and he leaned into her hand, so that those hard knuckles dug even further into his flesh. “No...it never lasts...just when I think I’m away from it...”

Her eyes flashed. “Do you WANT it? Do you MISS it?” And she dropped her hand to his leg, curving claws dug in through pants and broke flesh. He let out a screaming yelp, nearly jumping out of the throne to evade her.

Her hand snapped back, and she smirked. Beautiful red was seeping to stain the gray fabric. She wanted to tear off his pants and lick the blood away. A feast...

“You BITCH!” One small hand balled into a fist. Her smirk darkened into a leer...and he dropped his hand back to his side. “You think I MISS that treatment? You’re more disturbed then I thought.”

She laughed outright. “Yes...that’s correct.”

He stared at the glowing red lights across the room. A shudder racked his thin hungry body.

“I can’t feel the pleasure, Cass.”

“Oh?” She titled her head. Two hands settled on his knees. She fed pleasuring magic through his skin. Snively’s eyes widened and a gasp tumbled from him. He clenched his hands over hers, lower lip trembling. “Oh!” He squeaked.

She smiled, Oh yes, he could FEEL *that* alright. She could too...beautiful dark magic that made the heart race...the flesh harden...the breath quicken...the wetness slicken... A tongue traced her fangs hungrily, staring intently into his pale eyes. Her hunger was worse than ever. She watched his hands, floating up as if by their own accord, shaking so badly, start undoing the clasps of his shirt.

She smiled at the fair strip of skin appearing. “Ah yes, that’s it...give into it.” There was always someone trying to coax him into submission. But she couldn’t resist. This was a rich raw feeling and she wanted to bask in it: the wonderment of wanting to cause someone immeasurable pleasure instead of pain.

If only he would let her. But Snively was being difficult, pushing her hands away to break the spell.  He was panting slightly, and his eyes were gleaming, but there was a stubborn twist to his lips. “Stop Cass. I’m not in the mood!”

She eyed the front of his pants with a nasty smirk. “Your body says differently...”

“The body is weak,” he hissed.

She laughed outright; Snively looked most displeased. He did not like to be mocked. “You sound like...” But she trailed off, not wanting to bring up the remembrance of his kin...but those words reminded her of the things he’d told her. The things his Uncle had ranted about.

His expression blackened and she tried to divert his attention, to drive his foul mood away. A hand dropped into his lap, trailing magic like static electricity. Groping. He was lost for the moment, his eyes glazing. A slight whimper escaped him. But he resisted again, planting a foot into her chest, shoving hard.

She fell back onto her rear and scowled up at him.

“I told you,” he was breathless, “I don’t WANT that RIGHT NOW, CASS!”

“Afraid to be weak?” Her voice was a snake-slither. Hissing, sly.

“No...” He looked around the room, piercing eyes searching out every dark corner. “I just have to stay alert. Vigilant.”

How boring. A wicked gleam came to her eye. She could force him. Oh yes...she could ensnare him in magic, render him helpless in enchanted bindings. She could force him to feel tormented ecstasy, and he would beg her too, he would plead for her never to stop. Her fingers flexed, she caught his eyes with hers, smoky olive-green mirrors, and his body tensed.

“So what then? You intend to sit here all day, mulling?” The tingles of enslaving sorcery ruffled those long black digits; her smirk darkened with cruel and lustful intent.

Snively cast her a look, and it was such an odd thing...some sort of accepting weariness, like he knew of her cruelty and was just...willing to give in to it... It triggered a painful chord in her.

She remembered that look, she’d seen it reflected in someone else’s eyes so many times, so many years ago. It made her insides shiver.

A woman...crouched on the floor, staring up with those eyes, and the man leering over her. Casssar’s father. His face was hard-cut and handsome. His body, so firm, and his hands, clenched into fists at his side, so hard and punishing. He liked to use force.

And the woman...the mother... stared up with zombie-eyes...eyes of dead acceptance to the pain and fear...

Her hand relaxed and the evilness faded from her eyes. She stared down at the floor. “Very well, Black Flower.” She looked back up at him; Snively was eyeing her cautiously, the odd look fading away. “I just fear...a rift between us.”

His expression softened. “There isn’t going to be any rift, Cass. I just...have some things to sort out.” His face was so vulnerable, so honest. Almost innocent. She imagined he could – and had – used that face to manipulate. And it was working on her, soothing her.

He stared at her, probing, gauging the distance to jump. He knew it was too far to fall. He knew he’d end up broken either way. Staying quiet, or jumping screaming, but maybe broken on the ground he’d find his release?

“Today...is the day my mother died.” He uttered in a flat low voice.

Casssar eyed his hands, they were wrung together, like two pale spiders fighting to the death. She moved closer, putting her chin on his bent leg, like a puppy. He had resisted lust but now she offered comfort. Snively’s eyes...they were dry. A frozen lake on the verge of melting. Ice starting to crack.

“Ah, I am sorry, “ she mummered, and she truly was. She knew well the pain of a mother’s death.

“I want to think of her...” He raised his eyes heavenward, blinking, “Just her. But HE keeps creeping in. He always ruined EVERYTHING.”

He said it bitterly, but it was a different sort of bitterness than the one that attached itself to all speech of his Uncle. Different somehow. She couldn’t tell why, or how, but it was. “Your father?” She said, cautiously.

That full lower lip twisted, his eyebrows knit downward. “Yes. –That- bastard.”

“Has he died too?”

“Yes...I think so. At least, I heard he did.”

She ran a hand up his side, tenderly.

He did not seem comforted. “Whenever I think of...how she died, I think of him...automatically. Because it was all tied together...” He bit his lip hard, hard enough for a rivulet of blood to trickle down his chin. He shunted back hard in the chair, trying to curl into himself.

Like in the shower. He was going lost again. Casssar wanted to grab him, shake him out of it. She kept her hand on his shirt, gripping harder, so he could feel her...so he could know she was there.

“Please tell me, Black Flower...”

Breathing hard, he raised his head. His eyes were glittering. The ice had cracked and the water underneath was welling up, dripping down his cheeks. “No...no Cass. I don’t want...” he gulped. “To say anymore.”

But she was immensely curious. “How was it tied together?”

Snively swiped at his tears. His teeth bared, and he hissed. Suddenly furious. “She was sick, Cass. Sick since I was born.”

She was quiet. Inviting him to continue. She wasn’t going to force him, not when he was this volatile.

“And there were other things too,” he sneered, leaning back in the throne. His eyes were still leaking, but his face was twisted in a snarl. “I didn’t look like my other siblings. Oh, I wasn’t as ‘smart’ as them, he said. Oh, I was a worthless whiny disappointment.” He leaned his smooth bald head on one hand, his lip stuck out in a bitter pout. “He hated me for that.”

“Poor Cast,” Casssar mummered.

“It wasn’t enough to hate me. He had to hurt me...” He sighed heavily. More tears dripped down his face, like a sudden flood unleashed. That lip began trembling; he curled up.

“Yes, Cast, but that’s over-“

“He blamed ME!” Snively sat up, slamming his fist down onto the metal throne. “He fucking blamed ME all those years! Do you know how that made me feel? To think I was the cause, all the time, to think I was the one killing her?!”

“For what?”

“FOR HER CANCER!” He screamed, and struggling, he shoved past her, slipping out of the throne. Pacing furiously, his fists clenched at his sides. “And when she died, Cass, he didn’t even cry...” His teeth were gnashing; he raised the fisted hands to his head and kneaded them into his temples. “He drank, he drank, and he beat me ‘Finally, Finally, SNIVELY, BASTARD, YOU FINALLY SUCKED ALL THE LIFE OUT OF HER! They pulled him off me. He would’ve killed me. You FUCKING KILLED HER!”

He fell to the floor. “I can’t stop hearing-“ His sentence aborted; he let out a harrowing scream, nails digging into his temples, gouging the skin.

Casssar stood up, nudging him with her foot. He was starting to whimper and sob now. She stamped her foot down hard. “CAST!”

“No...No, SHUT UP!”

“SNIVELY STOP IT!”

He ceased the screaming, and lay sobbing bitterly, curling into a fetal position. Shaking so badly....it was like poison coursing through him. Black... twisted...so *fermented*.

She crouched down, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Black Flower, have you told anyone of this before?” She knew he hadn’t. Rage filled her, so angry at him...that he would keep such a thing inside! Such a diseased rotting thing locked up, keeping it there, letting it kill him? She shuddered.

He moaned. “Who...who could I tell?”

“You should have screamed of it, Cast.” She pulled him upright, clasping her hands to his cheeks. He stared down at the floor, eyes starting to swell red, still oozing wetness. “Radiate your darkness outwards. Never...NEVER stuff it inside.”

He lifted only his eyes to look at her; with his down-turned face and pouting lip he looked heartbreaking.

“Scream now.” She gave him a little shake. “Yes, Cast, HOWL about it!”

He drew in a deep breath, like he intended to follow her command, but it sputtered out and he moaned. “I’ve...I’ve done e-e-enough.”

“My poor Cast...my poor Cast...” She hugged him to her, but he began to wiggle.

“I’m fine...”

She was still gazing at him with that sympathetic face, that face imploring him to unburden himself. But he’d already dropped enough crap on her doorstep. No, he just...couldn’t. “I’m FINE!” He snarled.

The enraged look was plastering itself back on her face. Enraged, determined. “Black Flower, you MUST!” She grabbed his shoulder.

“Dammit!” His voice was shaking, struggling for indifference and strength...blessed numbness. “Leave me be!”

She was insistent...she didn’t know why. She couldn’t stand for him to keep the poison inside...to keep it in...like she had kept it in as a child...and finally, finally she had begun to rebel. She’d started to scream insanely. She had snapped; and she had went the opposite...instead of taking those dark horrible deeds of her father unto her...and shoving them inside her soul like rusted barbed wire...cutting and tainting her...she had began to talk about it. To scream about it, to throw her pain around like confetti until she was surrounded by the dark falling pieces...but it was only AROUND her now...not INSIDE her anymore. It was like puking up poison, purging it from her body.

She still wasn’t right. She knew it. She did know that. But better. Better...and he had to be better too. “Snively,” she bellowed, and grabbed him hard by the shoulders again. “Tell everything! Tell it ALL! I won’t care if you scream and thrash – just do it, just get it OUT!”

“You sick bitch...” he hissed...and he did thrash, writhing to get out of her grip. “You always want to know the DETAILS, don’t you? It’s a real turn-on, isn’t it?” His eyes were flooding again, but not in sadness or pain anymore. There was just so much livid heat inside him that it was melting his ice exterior.

She opened her mouth to protest, putting her hand on his arm.

Yes, sometimes it was...but not this time.

“Just...just fucking let go, already!” He freed his arm. “JUST GET THE HELL OUT!” A bony finger aimed towards the door.

“Cast, NO!”

“I SAID-“

He was interrupted by the voice of a SWATbot droning over the COM system. “Lord Snively, A prisoner has been captured. Orders to transport to interrogation for questioning?”

Just what he needed. A distraction. Chest heaving, his brow sweating, and his white teeth exposed in a snarl, the small man nodded. “YES!,” he was hollering at the walls, “I’ll be down in a moment.”

“Affirmative, sir.”

Snively left the room with his booted feet slamming upon the floor and a cutting glare thrown to Casssar. He left the ermine woman alone in the room, shaking her head...and wishing she had never said a thing.

                              ******

*From the mind...thrashing and screaming...of Snively Kintobar, Tyrant of Robotropolis*

Daddy was a prick. Daddy was an asshole. I could’ve took it. I could’ve endured. But not *that* - not the blame for her sickness and death. I *loved* her. It was infused in me – right down to the marrow and nerves and blood...it was something I couldn’t get rid of, even if I had wanted to. My love.

I somehow remember this particular day more than some of the others. I think it’s the day I gave up totally on him. You see, I always harbored a foolish hope that deep down inside he really loved me, his youngest child, and that one day he’d overcome his bitterness and show it. It wouldn’t be enough to make up for what he did. But it would be something...

Stupid FOOLISH hope.

Fool. Fool. Fool.

I almost believed him sometimes. I really almost did. I saw her in the coffin, at the ceremony, and I saw my own hands, alive and living...and...it was like the blood running through them was stolen from her. I was a vampire who had sucked out her life. Or a farmer who had planted an evil seed within her and tended it my whole life. Until it grew and strangled her soul.

God I HATED him so much I could feel my insides turning black from it. And green...seeping into my blue eyes...Like algae. Jealousy. When he touched her, when he talked to THEM, my siblings, like they were all a family, and I was an outsider, some horrible parasite just clinging on the outskirts and trying to rape everyone’s happiness. They didn’t care either. Even she didn’t stand up for me...not always. It was like torture. But I couldn’t do the impossible...stop loving her.

I wanted him to love me.

                              ******

What a beautiful day! It was early autumn, and blustering warm winds were buffeting the house. Barefoot I twirled around the kitchen floor, humming, piling dishes in the sink and filling it with warm soapy water.

It was two months since she’d passed away. But the grief wasn’t weighing me down today. I was indulging in the glorious sunlight, opening the curtains wide and pushing the window open. It was so breezy out, and the smells made me feel like a part of the earth and sky. I thought maybe I would go out and ride my bicycle after I finished my chores. It was so hard lately...to feel like a child, but today I was feeling my age...twelve, a carefree young preteen, only glad to be alive and breathing in nature’s perfume.

Some of mom’s figurines lined up on a shelf rattled in the breeze, but I didn’t pay attention. The wind didn’t seem strong enough to do damage to anything in here.

I immersed my hands into the soapy water, and began to diligently scrub dishes. Singing. Mopping strands of my hair out of my face with a wet hand, wrinkling my nose as the water dripped down. It felt wonderfully cool as the air touched it. 

I could hear thumping in the living room. Daddy. He was the only one home. My skin prickled and my shoulders hunched...but he wasn’t coming in here. Vaguely, I could hear the clink of a bottle against glass...he was drinking heavy liquor...

I gulped and began to sing louder. To cover up the clinking sounds. I didn’t want to think what could happen later if Daddy kept drinking. He got so wild and wrathful...the alcohol pulled monsters out of him, bringing them to the surface. Monsters that hated my existence.

After a few minutes I had calmed. The wind was picking up, and I couldn’t wait to get these last few dishes done so I could run outside. There were a few plates left, and the bottom of the sink was strewn with utensils. I always saved them for last.

I heard the figurines rattling again, much more severely, and I turned my head to look...eyes widened in horror. NO! NO! One was falling...in slow-motion...and I sprang away from the sink, launching into a dive. My stomach hit the floor and I slid forward, hands outstretched. Tears sprang to my eyes from the harsh friction of floor on skin.

But there were worse things than that. Like the figurine. I had missed. It had shattered. Mother’s figurine. Irreplaceable because of who it had belonged to.

My breath caught in my throat, and my eyes still watering, I began to scrabble to pick up the pieces. It was a little porcelain figure, of an anthro cat. Daddy didn’t normally like ‘animal-things’ but he made an exception for Mom. The head and the left arm had broken off. 

“What the hell was that noise!?” A voice bellowed from the living room.

“Uh...n-n-nothing!” I called back, my voice squeaking horribly. I cringed at the sound of it, hating it. Stupid, stupid voice!

“That don’t sound like nothing, boy...” I heard him grunt as he heaved himself off the chair and his heavy footsteps neared the kitchen. I looked about wildly...clutched in my hands the evidence of my atrocious crime...and all I saw was the trash can. A quick disposal. I stood and stumbled towards it, and was just letting the pieces fall from my hands, turning to eye the door...and seeing him already there. Just entering, his eyes on the trash can. I quickly clutched my hands to myself. Sweat broke on my brow, and the cool air wafting in did not help relieve it.

“What the FUCK are you doing, Snively?!” He snarled and approached the can...I backed up against it, trying to hide the contents from him. But he shoved me away with one large hand and stared down at the remains of the figurine. They had landed amidst yesterday’s newspaper and leftovers.

He just stared...and I began to back away. His face...it was flushing red. His fists...they were starting to clench...and his temple...it had a vein pulsing there, and in his neck too...

Finally, he reached a hand in, seeming not to care as foodstuff smeared it. A piece of the figurine was withdrawn, the poor cat’s head. He stared down at it for another moment, and then his gaze, like a knife, was thrown to me. My legs went weak and my bladder threatened to empty itself right there... “This...” his voice was a whisper... “Was one of your mother’s...” He clenched it in his fist. “You...you broke it...”

“It...it was an ACCIDENT!” I squealed. “The wind blew it over...I tried to catch it...I tried, daddy...I...” I could hardly speak now through the trembling in my voice...backing away from him...no please...he was coming at me... his eyes so frightful and angry, like a rabid animal. “I’m SORRY!”

“Oh, don’t even!” He snarled and a large hand pushed on my chest, pinning me back against the counter. It cut into my back. “Don’t you EVEN say that word ‘SORRY’! How DARE YOU?!”

My lower lip trembled and I felt the traces of humiliating wetness start seeping down my leg. I cursed it. It only made him crueler. I think he enjoyed it, sometimes...knowing he could scare a boy bad enough to piss his fucking pants. It must’ve been a real treat for him.

His eyes were on the piece again, and then he twisted his body and hurled it towards the trash can. Then his attention was turned back to me... his eyes drifting down my pathetic bony little body, the wet spot on my pants. Yellowed crooked teeth bared in a snarl and those smoldering gray-brown eyes were set on me. I believed looks could kill...or mutilate at least. His gaze was ripping me apart. I wanted to scream. “Ain’t enough for you to kill her, is it, you worthless little scum? Now you got to ruin the only things left of her? EH?! Is that it, you pile of shit?!”

“No-“ But his fist was raising back... and my words dissolved into whimpering.

He punched me. Each knuckle striving to leave a bruise on my stomach – oh god – it wasn’t fair for a fist to hurt so much. It was like he’d thrust a red-hot spear into my gut. I curled up inside my skin, eyes squeezed shut, a breathy grunting gasp expelled from my lungs. Dimly aware of hitting the floor as he stepped away from me.

He was ranting...I caught his hurtful nasty words, swears and oaths and demands intermingling into one ugly beast language. I tried to close my ears to it. It wasn’t hard at the moment. The red haze was filling my vision and the pain was stabbing over and over, like knives. Just from one punch, one blasted punch. What about more? What would they do...kill me? Would daddy kill his own son?

No, why kill something you hate? You can’t torment it any more after that. What good is your enemy’s corpse? It can’t feel anymore. And he wanted me to feel.

It seemed like hours for me to recover but I did, and it had only been a few minutes. Maybe less than that. He reached down and caught me by the shirt collar, yanking me to my feet and I gagged. Breath I had just retrieved was lost again.

He dragged me over to the shelf, and his free hand selected a figurine, a cute little prancing horse, its delicately sculpted mane flowing in an invisible breeze. It had been one of Mother’s favorites. She loved horses...they symbolized freedom. Freedom and beauty and the ability to run wild even when confined in a place such as this. I don’t know...if she was right. But I almost believed her. I could run free here sometimes...my body would stay in the house, but my mind, like a wild horse, would gallop far far away from here, to greener pastures and skies where the sun never set, and if it did, it was always breathtaking in its death.

“You want to break her? Break her then!” He shoved the figurine into my hand. “GO ON! You little mutt, go on and BREAK it!”

I stared at the horse -the essence of mother. Free, beautiful, delicate. To break it? To kill it? Like the cancer had killed her? How could I do that? How could I take a piece of her...and throw it away? He was screaming at me to do it. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t, even with knife stabs in my gut. The tears that spilled from the rims of my eyes were like acid. Burning like guilt. I DIDN’T kill her, I didn’t cause her death!

“Break it, you little piece of shit! Break it already!” The taunts kept coming, crowding my head. Confusing me. My hand began to tremble; my entire body shivered.

I couldn’t do it! Even though it was easy. To throw to the floor, to let the hand open and drop the sacred object within...

That wasn’t easy! In action...maybe...in mind...no! No, no! It was destroying part of her....defiling memories! How could he even WANT me to do that?

Hurting me was worth more than her memory.

That’s sick.

I thought that back then, a whole twelve years of age...I thought, ‘That’s sick. He couldn’t want that. It’s sick. He’s sick. He’s WRONG. He does want it. His soul...it’s poisoned!’

“Daddy, I can’t!”

“Oh why not?! WHY NOT?!” His breath stank. He was already half-drunk, all tainted, and not just by booze.

At twelve I knew what a poisoned soul was. And I knew mind-bending hate. How wrong...how so very wrong.

Do I have to see this? Can I stop it here?

‘Oh hell no’ – my mind says...it’s poisoned too... and part of it hates all this...and part of it wants to keep seeing it. Feeling it...hurting dying...dying.

So the memory keeps rolling.

“I said DO IT!” His hand lashed out and belted me across the face. I felt spit fly from my mouth, tasted the tang of blood. 

But still I balked. “I can’t, it was HERS!” I cried at him, the tears coursing down my face and my pants wetter than ever. “Don’t make me, daddy, PLEASE!”

I swore he wasn’t human. Not with that face. It was like a monster...a devil...had taken his face and twisted it into a mask of rage and hate... it was frightening. If my bladder hadn’t been empty by that time I would’ve made a puddle on the floor...if I had possessed a weaker heart, it would’ve given out.

“Oh, don’t make me?!” He mocked cruelly, grabbing my chin and glaring into my eyes. “You KILLED her! Don’t play INNOCENT with me, MAGGOT! I should’ve...” His hand tightened on my face so hard I thought he’d crush the bones. I whimpered.

If I broke it...would he let me be? Was it worth it, defiling her possessions and memories for him?! Of course not. But I was so afraid...

Too fucking WEAK.

I didn’t say anything. I just extended my arm and let the horse drop, falling free, galloping to its doom. It hit the floor and the head broke off at the neck...and one of the rear legs went spinning across the linoleum.

A sob ripped from my mouth. He just stared at it, like a murderer eyeing the incriminating bloodstain on his floor. Like he’d done something terribly wrong...and yet he was going to cover it up anyway, he was going to pretend it was justified. In his mind it –was- justified. 

Then...he exploded. He grabbed me hard by the hair and went towards the nearest weapon there was. The stack of plates I had set in the wooden rack to dry. He wanted something more shocking than fists.

I was released, shoved backwards, my tearing eyes just barely seeing what was coming towards me...not enough time to move... and then my head was snapped to the side by ceramic. One of the dinner plates clutched in his hand. It didn’t even break, amazingly. I fell to the floor with blood gushing from my nose and smearing my teeth, gulping breath in a panic, screeching.

His boot slammed into the small of my back, and I lost my breath. Strange white noise flooded my head. I could hear him screaming over it, over and over. I didn’t want to hear it, but even over my gasps I could.

“I HATE YOU!! BAD SEED! I HATE YOU, HATE YOU!” Kick kick kick. His spit was dripping down on me. His boot slamming into my body, over and over, until I couldn’t tell when I was breathing or not...it hurt so much either way... and my whole vision was red...I didn’t know if my eyes were opened or closed, I was bleeding...was I bleeding? Kick. Kick. KICK.

“YOU KILLED HER!! I SHOULD’VE KILLED YOU FROM THE BEGINNING!”

No...no...I moaned through a mouthful of spittle, drooling onto the floor. I didn’t. He was a liar. I didn’t do it.

“Why couldn’t you have died...” He was panting now, dragging me up by the shirtfront. I could vaguely make out his face through the scarlet haze. His face was wet. He held me there, breathing on my face, for several minutes, making these horrible wretched sounds, like growls and wails all at once. If I hadn’t hated him SO much at that moment, I might’ve felt sorry for him. If I hadn’t been the one who was feeling the most pain...maybe I could’ve had sympathy. But no, he killed all that good in me. I just wanted him DEAD. Let him join her if he hurt that fucking much...

“Instead of her, why couldn’t you?”

My vision cleared up. I could breathe again, but my entire body ached when I did. My head was spinning.

He still had the dish in his hand. I thought he was done. There was no way I could go out and bicycle now... maybe I would just stagger out and lay on the front lawn. Outside...away...not nearly as far away as horses could fly me...but away, at least.

A twelve year old couldn’t fathom how deep hate could go. Not yet...there just wasn’t enough room in my soul to stuff it all. I wasn’t a black hole...bottomless pit of despair, yet.

A strangled sound escaped him and he swung. I tried to move, but I was too dazed. My face was accosted by the plate again, and this time I heard it shatter. A piece cut the corner of my mouth, my back slammed into the counter behind me. I tried to distance myself from him, scrambling along the counter, my hands groping the surface for...anything. I let out a yelp as one hand plunged into the sink. The water was still warm.

And the bottom was strewn with utensils...because I always saved them for last. My fingers felt the edge of a knife. A sharp one.

Daddy was coming closer. Unfathomable hate.

I grabbed the knife and drew it up behind my back. Water slid down my wrist.

‘Do it...’ A voice was whispering to me, dark and silky. ‘Do it...’

I stared at his stomach. The knife...it would sink in so easy. Right into that flabby gut. The warm blood would ooze all over my hands, it would fill the air like perfume. Blood would come bubbling out of his mouth, and he would give me that look that they give in the movies...that wide-eyed shocked look. That ‘how could you do this to me?’ look.

How couldn’t I, was more like it.

I wanted to, so badly. He was treading on my toes now, those intolerable seething eyes on me. I swung my arm forward, my teeth gritting.

I’d kill him. YES.

‘Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.’

I would slice him into a million pieces. I would cut his face off. I would sever his fists and shove them into his mouth. I would...

He punched me in the crotch. My whole body opened up. My hand... it opened and I dimly heard the splash as the knife returned to its watery grave. My mouth opened, my eyes went wide... ‘how could you do this to me?!’... and I collapsed.

“I hope it kills you...”

“Now you can never make any more of YOU at least...”

“You won’t join your mother. She’s in heaven. You’re not going to heaven. You won’t see her. She doesn’t want to see you. She HATES you.”

If I had the knife I would stand up and cut his tongue out and let it slide down into his throat...choking him on his lies.

But I didn’t, so I didn’t. I couldn’t stay there anymore, though.

A black horse came and took me away.

I passed out.

 *******

I woke up. Facing the interrogation doors. My hands were made into fists, the short nails cutting me. Blood was seeping out between my fingers. 

I wanted to KILL someone so badly. Whether or not they deserved it. Justice...or freedom. Justice or freedom. Freedom.

Liberty from pain. I’ll free them all, maybe. They’ll never hurt like me.

A smile cut into my face like the track of a knife. Bold, searing. Scary.

I’ll free them from me...and me from them.

Smiling wider.

Everyone free from pain all ways around.

God...that sounded so good.

                        *******

Sonic dragged the basketful of fish to one of the wooden picnic tables. Rotor went to retrieve the cutting board and knives to prepare the fish. Bunnie and Sonic were smiling. It could’ve been any ordinary day.

‘It IS any ordinary day’, Sally corrected her thoughts.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” she said, and left. She knew she could get away with a lengthy absence. They all knew she was not keen on gutting fish.

                                    **

She went down to the secret door. Some kids were playing in the pool and they didn’t notice as she slid into the dense foliage.

-You are troubled.- Cu noted as Sally settled herself down on a flat rock. The squirrel sighed.

“Yeah.”

-What is wrong?-

“Lupe and her pack are coming. They want to...help us.” Sally shrugged. “Get the city back, you know.”

She couldn’t even imagine what to do with the city, if they ever managed to reclaim it. It’d been her home once, all those years ago. But now it was so warped, so alien...so damaged. They could clean it up, she guessed... But to live there?

She couldn’t picture it.

-It is a strange thing to think of.-

“You can say that again,” the girl chuckled, staring at the gleaming surface of the Source pool. “But it’s like...” She struggled to put words to her unsettling emotion. “It’s like...part of me doesn’t want to fight...ever again. It’s just so sick of it. And the other part...” She picked at a loose thread on her vest. “The other part doesn’t ever want to STOP. It can’t even ACCEPT that someday the fighting could be over. It’s like...it’s like part of me will be dead if it ever stops fighting.”

-That is because part of it will...-

Sally stared at the ball of Light that was Cu.

-Part of you will be dead, Sally. But death is not a bad thing. Other parts of you will still be alive.-

“But will I miss the dead piece?” She mused. “It wants me to think so... it doesn’t want me to stop...It doesn’t WANT to die...” Sudden tears stung her eyes... she could see Sonic in the café’ the other day...how he’d flown at Geoffrey in a fury.

“You wish he was still alive, don’t you?” The skunk had accused. And Sonic had panicked in a rage. Maybe he did. Maybe some part of him really wanted Robotnik back, so he could never stop fighting and running and trying, so that part of him would never die. What if it did die? He’d be different...but was different a bad thing? Was it a better thing?

‘It’s always fear...fear of death...holding us back...’

                              ******

Robotropolis: Interrogation

The girl nearly fell to her knees when the door slid open. Her legs were in restraints that were welded to the floor.

“Oh Goddess...no...not HIM...”

Robotnik was going to come through the door, and she was going to die at the sight of him...she just knew it...her heart was hammering in her chest, trying to kill her before HE did.

She was going to die, and she was so afraid... but her heart would be more merciful to her than HE would.

Beat.

Beat.

Beat... beat faster, heart.

                        *******

“You can’t tell me things will get better, can you, Cu?”

-No, I am afraid not.-

“I thought maybe you could...see stuff. Like in the future...”

-I cannot. Sally, nothing is certain. Even those who CAN see the future do not see it exactly as it will occur. They only see the most likely way the future will unfold.-

For some reason, this did not unsettle her. Good, maybe...maybe that was good. That she didn’t know what was coming... for better or worse. She’d just have to steer it towards better herself, and let the rest work itself out.

“Yes...that’s the only way to go. With the flow,” She smiled, because it reminded her of something Sonic would say.

-Just watch where the current takes you.-

Yes. Let it ride...but watch out for those sunken logs and those sandbars...and that waterfall right around the bend. Relax until it came time to fight. Flow...just flow with life...

She thought of that part of her pleading with her not to let it die.

Flow with life...and death...

Everything had to die sometime.

                              ******

NO, NO, not him, not HIM! She opened her mouth to scream, or maybe to let her heart fly out, because it was crawling up her throat, and beating, beating so hard, all through her.

The doors slid open and someone entered behind her. They circled around to face her. She was shaking, sweating, only a little mew coming from her mouth.

He came into view and halted before her, eyeing her with bottomless freezing eyes...looking UP at her.

Her breath blew out in one shaky long exhale. The sense of relief was so strong she nearly cried. It WASN’T Robotnik! She blinked through her tears, staring at him. It was an Overlander, very short and very skinny, and...not sick, exactly. But tired, maybe. World-weary? His eyes, an unusual milky-blue shade, were still focused on her.

He did not look happy.

But she was safe, safe, safe! It wasn’t Robotnik!

He gave a shrug, as if unconcerned with what came from his mouth. It was almost like routine. “Well...since you’re here, I might as well ask you where Knothole is.”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” She joked, still flooded with relief. It was like she’d been on the edge of a cliff, and had been pulled back by a savior. The sense of beating death.

He titled his head and stared at her, and something...just something...in his expression...

It made her feel like she was thrown right back to the edge of that cliff, and this time she wasn’t just standing there...she was slipping.

She realized, suddenly, with the surge of vomit rising in her throat, that Robotnik was not the only dangerous person in the world...

                              *******

Sally was sitting by the edge of the pool, dipping her toes into the Source. It felt cool and warm all at once...and it was very soothing.

-You have questions for me.-

“Uh yeah...” She startled a little, half-closed eyes widening. “I was wondering if you had any insight on Snively. Any ideas of how to handle him.”

That sounded dumb. They’d handle him the way they handled Robotnik. They’d keep going at him until he crumbled too. “Not that we don’t KNOW what to do,” she added firmly. “It’s just...ah...I don’t know.”

She stared down at her toes, wiggling them so they peeked up through the thick liquid. “Sometimes I get tired of having to be...the leader. Tired of being expected to know all the answers, you know. I’m groping too... I’m sometimes playing this by ear too...and I just think...they don’t know it.”

-I believe they do. But they are afraid to tell you would shatter your confidence, or make you angry. They respect you dearly.-

“I know... sometimes I wish they’d argue against me more. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Cu... and they still put their faith in me. It’s scary. It’s heartening...but it’s scary too...” She sighed. “I know Sonic feels like that too... they expect just as much of him as they do me. Maybe more.”

The entity was silent.

“Ok. Well let’s talk about Snively then.” She wrinkled her nose.

-How are you thinking to handle him?-

“Just...go at him. Like we did with Robotnik. It probably won’t take much effort... he’ll surrender. He isn’t like his Uncle.”

-And? Other thoughts?-

“Snively... I know I should...be more concerned with him, you know? After what he did here. But he HATED Robotnik so much...I mean, we all KNEW that, even if Robotnik didn’t. Which he should’ve...it was pretty obvious. He hated him the most. Not us.”

-But he hates you as well. I can sense that in his imprints. He blames you for participating in his pain.-

“Oh please.” She kicked viciously at the Source, wishing it was the Needle-nosed brat’s face. “We didn’t do ANYTHING to him! I hate him, Cu! I sometimes wish I HAD killed him that day. They all think I’m a killer...maybe I should have KILLED!”

-That would not have been best for you, Sally.-

“Like any of this is best...” She mumbled, and then frowned. “Well, I didn’t kill him. So now we have to deal with him.” She did not want to mope. “What else can you tell me about him?”

-I sense a storm in him. Very near.-

Bah, what else was new? Sally shook her head in contempt. Snively...so overdramatic, the guy was. Always pretending and looking like the epitome of misery.

‘I just wish Cu could see what a faker he is.’

-I am serious, Sally.- The light seemed to brighten, bathing her in a white glow. –It is hurricane force, right over the horizon. He is very troubled... and dangerous.-

She stood up. “What about...giving up? Does he seem desperate?”

Cu waned a bit. –I cannot tell. He is desperate, yes, but not remorseful, Sally.”

One usually required remorse to surrender to their hated enemies. Humbleness. A willingness to be forgiven and forgive... (not that she could forgive him...)...a willingness to at least apologize.

It was that, or... just having nowhere else to go. No options left but surrender... or suicide...as, having read various history texts, she had discovered many despot’s lives had ended by their own hand...

And she couldn’t imagine Snively...hateful little bastard, killing himself...not without trying to take someone down with him. He was not going to apologize, and he was not out of options...not yet. Maybe he would be when she and Lupe’s Pack and the Freedom Fighters all showed up at his doorstep, banging down his doors.

But not yet... He wasn’t surrendering yet. She should’ve known though.

“That was a stupid question... But...what about afraid? Is he afraid?”

The light dimmed even further, like the darkness in Snively’s soul...even just thinking about that darkness...was enough to snuff out beautiful bright lights forever...

-Oh yes, Sally. He is grievously afraid.-

                              ******

This room was cold. Maybe it was just the man’s eyes, still on her, all ice and glaciers and deep hypothermia-inducing waters. She wished he’d stop staring...

“Wh...why do you want to know where that is, anyway?” She glared back at him, trying to shake the unnerving feeling that she was staring Death in the face.

“It’s the home base of the core Freedom Fighter group,” he snorted, tilting his head again...it reminded her of a falcon cocking its head at a rabbot soon to be its next meal.

“Ah,” she said. She sort of knew that. Who didn’t know about Sonic and Sally...they were the figureheads of the Freedom Fighting movement. But she hadn’t wanted to be a fighter...she just wanted to find a home...a safe place. What place was safer than the impenetrable Knothole?

“I’m sorry,” she offered, “But I’ve never been there. I’d like to know where it is...too...” She fumbled for words. “Erm...not that I was planning on JOINING or anything...” She laughed nervously.

“No, of course not... You don’t have the spirit in you.”

She snorted, vaguely insulted. “You don’t look like you have much SPIRIT, yourself.”

He was so pale, so skinny and sick...he was perspiring and his lip was curling to reveal those blunt Overlander teeth.

She wanted to laugh and throw ridicules right in Death’s face...because she was afraid. Afraid of those bottomless eyes, with a little specter light way down at the bottom, like ghosts staring out at her. She wanted to ridicule to deny her thoughts. He wasn’t Death. He was harmless.

“Where’s Robotnik!?” She demanded suddenly. “Where’s the evil one himself?”

The small man went ramrod stiff.

“He’s dead...” he finally uttered, in a strangling whisper. “Don’t you know he’s DEAD!? He’s no longer ALIVE!!” His voice rose to a fever pitch and his hand went to his belt. She saw a flash of metal.

A gun. A pistol.

She screamed, trying to jump backwards...she merely ended up on her rear, with her ankles still shackled tight in the leg restraints. Tears rose in her eyes.

“He’s DEAD!” The small man hissed, clenching the gun in his fist. He wasn’t aiming it at her...it was pointed towards the floor. She felt the vomit that was in her throat slowly slide back down into her stomach, a burning putrid mass. “He’s DEAD DEAD DEAD!!”

“Alright,” she choked. “Alright, he’s dead! I believe you, my Goddess!”

“Have you seen him?” The small man questioned. “You didn’t see him, did you?” His chest was starting to heave. Her own breathing wasn’t quite calm at the moment either... she wondered if he was having some sort of attack. Like panic, maybe. He looked terrified, and yet insanely angry...angry at his own fear.

“No, I didn’t see him.” She was curious, despite her unease. “How er...how did he die? Did the Freedom Fighters get him?” She tried to keep her voice placid and neutral.

He chuckled, but it sounded more like gagging. “I suppose you could say that. But it was mostly me-“ He shut his mouth abruptly, squeezing his eyes closed like a pain had struck him.

“Um?...are you...?”

Those eyes opened, wide and horrified; he was casting hunted glances all around the room and the gun was held up to his chest, quavering.

She felt the vomit tiptoeing up again. Heart still beating...she wished she hadn’t urged it to patter so fast. “What...what are you looking for?”

“I left him...I LEFT him! I saw him die...he was DEAD..but he’s there. So I don’t know what they’re doing with him.”

“You left who where?” With every word, her voice shook more. She wanted him to stop talking...and she wanted to keep him talking.

Damned.

‘If I do or don’t. If he does or doesn’t.’

“Robotnik. In Knothole.”

“He died in Knothole?” Now she was thoroughly confused, and her head ached. “But I thought you didn’t know where it was-“

“Shut up-“ He said abruptly, his brow furrowing. Thinking. His eyes were alit with a furious glow, like lanterns shining behind ice. “I can’t remember...”

                                    *

Because of Cu. He KNEW it was Cu’s doing....it had stolen his memories of Knothole’s location. CU, the powerful...Cu the purifier...the life-bringer? Shuddering hit his form.

It had brought him back from the dead, and he – scared, devastated, had recalled thoughts of the one who’d originally given him life. Mum. Mommy. Mother. His first thoughts of her in a long time. And today was her birthday, he remembered with jolting sickness.

And HIM. He was in the thoughts too. Daddy. It all led back to HIM. The original ABUSER. 

‘It’s because of him I’m here’.

He’d run from Daddy only to find Julian. He’d thought Julian could save him.

They were going to bring Julian back from the dead. He was never going to get away.

All because of Daddy.

And his eyes shot wide and the vehemence boiled up again, choking him until he couldn’t breathe or see.

                                    *

She saw something change in him, some kind of shifting in the glaciers in his eyes. Like a storm blowing over the icy sea. She tried to move away from him, but the restraints kept her in place.

She shouldn’t have kept him talking. She should’ve shut up. Because Death was now staring her in the eyes, and he was very very angry.

                              ******

“We’ll go in, then,” said Sally firmly. “We’ll go in and show him that’s there IS more to fear than he thinks.”

-I would be careful.-

“We will,” said the squirrel indignantly. “We always are.”

-I know. But he’s scared and dangerous. He’s killing.-

She thought of going in the Command Center and standing before Snively’s throne with her father’s sword in hand. She thought of thrusting it into him like she’d done with Robotnik. But that had been her own dagger. Maybe she’d use that, instead, mingle his blood with his own murderous Uncle’s...so they could feel each other...so they could be TOGETHER again when they died. A horrible evil smile spread on her face. Snively would love that, wouldn’t he? To join his Uncle again? She could sense his fear, suddenly, like hearing his voice screaming NO NO NO! Don’t! in her head and her own triumph...her own sense of joy at hurting him like that.

-Don’t Sally. Don’t...-

“Don’t what?” She was startled, the thoughts fleeing her. She felt like she was stained from where the thoughts touched. She stared at the Source longingly, wondering if it would wash her soul clean.

-Don’t try to match your thoughts to his.-

Ugh. She grimaced. “Are you talking about that rubbing off thing again? That I still have Snively’s essence on me?”

-Yes. There’s still part of him left in your mind...and you could access it if you wanted. But that would keep it alive, like a scab that doesn’t heal because of picking.-

She widened her eyes. “I want it to go away.”

-Then don’t indulge in those thoughts.-

Is he really that bad? Really that blackened...rotting...sick inside?

She thought of Snively handing her the knife, when she was ensnared in Casssar’s spell, but still realizing what was happening...she thought of his eyes, and his voice.

His face had been blank, and his eyes wintry. His voice was a whisper, but there was no emotion there. She couldn’t judge from that...but she thought maybe he wasn’t rotting and sick inside...he was already dead.

-You should have let me heal him.-

Cu’s voice broke into her analysis...and it was all wrong. She didn’t know anything about Snively, not really, she wasn’t aware if ANYTHING she guessed about him was right or wrong, and it was so tiring. She was sick of it. But she knew one thing, and it wasn’t any essence of his..it was all HER.

She knew she didn’t want him to heal.

She didn’t want him to live.

“No Cu. I don’t think so.”

                              ******

“WHY WHY WHY?!” The porcelain man ranted, pacing back and forth, like a maddened wolf in a cage, his hands clasped to his head with the pistol pressed cold against his forehead. He whirled to look at her, his eyes savage. “Why did I leave him there? Why couldn’t he have died instead?!” She stared at him, not understanding. ”Why can NOTHING ever go smoothly for me, girl!? Can you answer that?”

She stuttered, unnerved in the face of such psychotic fury. “B...Because life likes to...trip you up?” He wasn’t going to kill her...her heart was. Just like she’d originally planned. Pounding so hard she could scarcely breathe.

“Trip...me...up?” He repeated the words as if having difficulty understanding. “Trip me up? Does life delight in seeing me smash my face repeatedly on the pavement? Does it want to MUTILATE ME?” His arm came out, straight and unwavering, and she nearly screamed. The gun was aimed directly at her, and his eyes were so cold, so icy, like all his molten anger had frozen, hardened, into a wasteland. “And once again, why? Why is a man such as myself the one this LIFE wants to bully? What could a child, unwittingly...unwillingly...born into this shithole...what could a newborn baby do that would invoke such...hatefulness from this LIFE?”

“I don’t know!” She cried, her nose dripping snot and the tears streaking her cheeks. “It isn’t MY fault!”

“Not...” And suddenly he broke into laughter. No, it was like screaming, but laughing intermingled, it was like he was crying and retching all at once. “Not...not MY fault...!” And even more suddenly, his laughter dissolved into whimpering, like a child beaten and abandoned, “Oh god...oh god...” His eyes were distant; empty. This body was not occupied. He was gone somewhere else.

“Please...not my fault...”

“N-n-no!” She cried loudly; out of fright, and the desire to bring him back, snap him out of it. To scream some logic into his head. But he seemed only to retreat further, muttering and whimpering cryptic phrases of a molested and abused soul. She tried to run again, but she was held fast to the floor; she tugged at the leg restraints until she thought she would tear her muscles from her bones. They would not budge.

“NO!” She screamed finally, at the top of her lungs, her voice cracking. Quiet as a mouse...and Death would pass her by...but Death wasn’t like that. It found you no matter what. So she screamed because there was too much panic to keep inside.

His eyes started to focus. “I tried to say no...sometimes. But did it ever help?” A sneer spread across his face. “No...my dear...” And he approached her, coming right up, and the pistol was stroked along her quivering lower lip and her teary cheeks.

“The hard truth is...You’re life’s little puppet....its little toy. It’s going to do whatever it wants with you...and you can’t do ANYTHING...ANYTHING about it. It’s really very sad...”

She tried to follow the gun as it traced along her jawline, her hands clenched into helpless fists. “I don’t...don’t’ believe that...”

He ignored her, those eyes, so frigidly cold...so empty...glinting up at her. “But it’s alright for you...” He whispered, “I’m going to free you from all this...free you from the trap...”

He stepped back a few paces, just enough so he could stretch out one arm, thin and lanky like a white birch limb, to its full length, and the gun barrel too, like an extension of his hand...just far enough back so he could stretch that arm and put the barrel of the gun firmly to her head.

She knew it was her doom; she knew she was dead already. But futile hope urged her to plead.

There were no miracles. No miracles in a city void of hope.

“Free from pain all ways around,” he whispered.

It was so simple to kill, and there was something so beautifully elegant in the way his finger pulled back, the way her body fell in slow-motion, upon the floor with hands sprawled over the metal. And then time sped up again and her head thumped back and the blood began to spread like a crimson sheet had been pulled out from under her.

He looked down and saw his reflection...distorted...and then he saw Uncle’s mustache...and his teeth...and his eyes burning fire...

Red...

Blood...

So much blood!

It was touching his boots...and it was sprayed onto his hands...

He dropped the gun, wringing his hands together, but the blood just smeared red over his skin. A whimper escaped his mouth and he backed away from the puddle. His gaze lowered and settled on her eyes, staring up at him wide-eyed and accusing.

She was free, right? Free?

But he still wasn’t! He would still  be here when Uncle marched through the doors in decaying glory. Maybe he’d be linked arm and arm with Daddy.

He wrung his hands furiously. The blood was burning. He could feel it. Couldn’t escape it. Their laughing. They were laughing. She stared up at him, and her eyes were no longer accusing...they were filled with mirth. She was screaming in laughter.

He kicked her, rolling her body over, so he couldn’t see her face anymore. To the walls he screamed, raking his nails over his arms, “You can’t HAVE me, neither of you! I won’t LET you!” He couldn’t stand still anymore, he ran, a furious mad sprint, down the halls, tearing at himself with his nails, pushing his sleeves back to assault his arms, ripping buttons off his shirt.

It burned,he couldn’t stop the burning.

Through the command room he went, face smeared with blood and tears. Out onto the balcony. One of Robotnik’s favorite spots in the city. Robotnik and Daddy chased him all the way here, and he was cornered, or so they thought.

Snively knew there was one place he could hide, one place they couldn’t find him, and it was on the streets below the balcony, it was in another realm, and he...

Flung himself at the railing, scrabbling to climb up there, and balanced against the wind and smog clouds, right on the edge of Life and Death.

..He only had to jump and they couldn’t have him...

“SNIVELY!!” A voice was screaming.

He thought he recognized it, but it was hard to hear over the wind, and he was shaking so bad. It was either down...down onto the balcony where they could rip him apart, or down into the warm foul air, free.

I can’t let them get me...

No, you have to fight!

Fight...fight...flight?

He didn’t have a choice now. His foot slipped and he plummeted. A scream ripped from his throat, and his arms flailed.

Something grabbed him. Like a rope around his middle, stopping him in midair harshly, bruising and knocking the air from his lungs. Stars and particles flashed in his eyes and then he was being lifted up, up...and floated to lay gasping and clutching his chest, on the cold floor of the balcony. Someone was staring down at him, gesturing angrily, their mouth moving.

“Casssar,” he moaned.

He felt her hands on his shoulders, shaking him. “What are you doing?!” She cried. “CAST!”

“I can’t breathe,” he whimpered, harshly wheezing.

She put her hands on his chest, and he felt something jolt through him. It hurt slightly, but it seemed like his lungs opened wider, and the air rushed in. He gulped for a moment, and the impact of it made his head spin. He pushed her hands away; they were crackling with magical energy.

He sat up, bracing his back against the balcony railing. His hands were shaking and he clenched them on his knees. The girl’s blood smeared them, but it didn’t burn anymore. It felt cool where the warm outdoor air brushed it. “I don’t know...what came over me.”

She eyed the blood, lifting one hand to her lips. He watched, transfixed, as her tongue traced the length of one pale digit.

“It isn’t yours,” she mused. “Yours is much sweeter than this...”

Sweet like the stench of rotting meat...

“It’s...hers. The prisoner’s...” He leaned his head back.

“It’s dead,” she said, tracing her tongue along her lips. Her brow was furrowed. It wasn’t an erotic gesture, but for some reason he was enticed anyway. He didn’t know why.

“Dead, yes.” And suddenly it didn’t hurt to say it...he felt the guilt slip away like morning dew off a flower.

A black flower, in the middle of a graveyard. At Uncle’s grave?

Uncle didn’t have a grave, he was alive...

SHUT UP.

“She’s DEAD,” he repeated, a little louder, to reinforce the fact.

If he killed Julian once, he’d just kill him again. “I killed her. FREED her.”

Julian had deserved it. Or hadn’t deserved it, actually. He hadn’t deserved to be FREE. But at least his freedom meant the end of other’s imprisonment.

Casssar’s eyes narrowed and she looked past him, to the clouds and sky beyond. They were so high up, like sitting atop the world. “Did you want to be free, too?”

“No. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Snively didn’t want to tell her about Daddy and Uncle chasing him...not now. That had been so irrational, and stupid. “I’m already free.”

He took her hand in his, pressing it to his chest. “Casssar...don’t worry about me. This is all over, now. I’m going to be fine now.”

He almost believed that, for a minute there. His mouth was smiling at her.

Uncle wasn’t coming for him.

Daddy wasn’t coming.

He was free, he was with the one he loved.
There wasn’t going to be any more pain.

He really believed that, for a minute there.

                              **

*From the mind, confused and loving, of Casssar, Queen of Robotropolis.*

This is where the darkness started to seep in, to seep in to stain the bones.

His mouth was smiling when his lips touched mine. He said he was alright now.

He wasn’t though. He probably never would be.

This is where the darkness started to seep in, to rupture the mind like a cleaver, leaving a wound so deep and broad that it couldn’t ever heal.

He said he was alright, but people like me and him, we don’t ever heal, never. We can fight it. Cover it. Stitch it up, and struggle against the disease.

But the scars never disappear.

He said he’d be alright, but I didn’t believe him.

I moved myself beside him, casting a glance over my shoulder at the miles of unembracing air below us...the fall I’d just saved him from.

Chased...he must have been. I know the feel of chased well. Everyone does. We all flee from something. Even if we aren’t running....even if we’re standing still.

I did not know the entirety of Black Flower’s dark life. But I could guess which two people could chase him so long, so ruthlessly and hard, that it would drive him to death. His Uncle. The first, and foremost choice...I could see the fear in his eyes when the lights were dimmed and the red buttons on the console glowed. When I spoke the words, “Come here,” it was like a shocking slap to the face.

And his father.

My eyes narrowed into slits. Fathers. Fathers...I mouthed the word. Daddy.

A ripple of disgust went through me, like filthy hands stroking my spine. I hated the word ‘daddy’...

A child’s voice was singing. And a woman’s voice was babbling. I folded my ears down, trying to block out the words.

‘Daddy, O, Daddy’, I sighed

‘Why couldn’t you be a good daddy?’

‘He was evil’, my mommy cried

‘He’s evil; I can’t take it,’ and she pulled

The trigger right in front

Of my little girl eyes.

Oh! Oh! I told the child singing to shut up. I don’t want to know her, bruised and white-furred and with eyes of innocence...draped over with a veil of fear... I don’t want to remember her. She gets angry at me for that.

I stared down at the brink again, wrapping one arm around Black Flower’s body and pulling him against me. He laid his head on my breast, letting out a shuddering breath. A time ago, I could’ve jumped off the railing too, being so chased by Daddy. A time ago. I curled my lip.

Not now. I was strong now.

But a time ago...

                              **

A girl was running. Me. Staring at the ground, at white feet splashing in every mud puddle and the gray grit. It was the Great War, the beginning of it. There were soldiers and war freighters rumbling by; nobody noticed the slender white figure weaving through the streets, nobody paid attention to the ragged curses and shouts from behind me.

“Faster, please, just go faster.” I spoke to my feet. They were flying over the ground. But he was getting closer behind me; I swore I could feel his hands just missing the back of my neck.

I glanced behind me. No, he wasn’t that close. His fur was the same pearly hue as mine, but his eyes weren’t the doe-eyed stare of his daughter’s, they were mean and narrowed, alit with anger and lust and cruel things. When he caught me...

I had never run before, not to this extent, never this much of a distance. I begged my legs to keep up their strength and carry me further, beyond his reaches eternally. How wonderful that would be. But while he lived, he would always hunt me...I knew it. He told me so.

Mommy had gotten away.

I gulped in a breath of the smoky air, gagging, my lungs burning. A war freighter was coming down the street ahead of me. A huge machine with many rumbling wheels carrying it forward. I would cross its path in moments...If I ran faster I could make it. If I stopped I would be blocked off, and Daddy would catch me.

I misjudged the distance. I had plenty of time to make it, but I stopped anyway...I halted in the path of the war monster coming at me, and I stared it down. Those wheels, ripping up the muddy streets, leaving huge ruts. I pictured myself churning underneath them, fur flying like snow, blood falling like rain. Bones breaking and pain fleeing, fears coming to rest shredded on the ground.

“HEY!” A voice hollered. “Hey YO! Get the freak out of the way, girl!”

I looked to the right. An armadillo solider was beckoning angrily at me from the side of the General Store.

I looked to the left. Daddy was coming, he was snarling and spit was sliding off his lips, his hands were outstretched as if he could grab me from a distance. I felt hard shudders go through me. I HATED his hands so much...I hated how the fingers crawled, and probed, and...

If I stayed still, right here, I could get away from them forever.

”HEY! ARE YOU DEAF?! BLIND?!” The armadillo was scowling and running towards me.

I moved.

I moved to the right...I let him grab my arm and pull me away. The freighter roared by, and I stared at it. I couldn’t see Daddy anymore.

“Sorry,” I gasped. “I wasn’t paying attention...” I stared into the soldier’s black eyes. He looked grim.

“It wouldn’t be a good way to go,” he said, and released my arm. “Now get out of here.”

I nodded. And ran, with tears gathering in my eyes. If I’d stood there, gazing headstrong at Death, I could have escaped! I could have ended the chase forever.

My legs were strong, and the blood was pumping through them. They wanted me to keep running...so I did. I never went back again.

                              ******

“Your father is dead,” I said, nuzzling my chin against his head. “He can’t harm you anymore.”

He mumbled something. Then a bit louder, he queried, “What about your father, Cass? What ever happened to him?”

“I’m not sure. I ran away when I was ten.”

“Do you hope he’s dead?” Black Flower blinked up at me, milky blue eyes swimming with haunts.

‘Are you glad he’s dead?” I had asked Black Flower a few days ago about his Uncle, and he had answered scathingly honest: “Yes.”

My response was not laid out bare in front of my eyes. It was clothed, layers upon layers of dusty and blood-caked clothing. I tried to shed them, but there were too many. I gave the only response that made sense.

“I don’t know.”

He blinked again. His breath was warm on my breast and his fingers were straying, absentmindedly, to my thigh, stroking. It felt nice. “How could you not know? I imagine it would be a simple answer.”

I shifted my leg so his fingers slid to the inside of my thigh. He was calm now...and I was still hungry...

“Not so, Black Flower. Your Uncle was poisoned always...but my father was not. I knew him before the Source tainted him.” I sighed, and he eyed me silently, his fingers sifting through the soft black fur. “I suppose I hoped to...perhaps heal him someday, and bring him back.”

“But the man he is now?”

“I care nothing for him.” Another sigh escaped me and I put my hand atop his, guiding it to lay upon delicate areas in the junction between legs. I heard his breath hitch a bit and I smiled. Ah yes, that did feel nice, just the presence, the weight of his hand there. “I only want the man who WAS to live.”

“What if he’s dead? What if he can’t be brought back?”

“Then I...” I pressed his hand a bit more urgently, wishing the conversation’s end. It was unsettling. I wanted to grab the bony juts of his shoulders and press him to the railing, drinking viciously of his mouth. “...I still can’t say I wish him dead. Not...not when there’s a hope.”

“Hope,” Snively muttered, and he stroked one delicate finger upon me, bringing shivers like a rush of cold water over the nerves. “Hope is such a fickle thing, Cass. It’s a tease.” He nodded, a fierce light in his eyes. “It gestates there in your mind, like a ray of light and beauty, but it’s all FAKE, Cass. It doesn’t REALLY exist.” He tilted his head up, planting a kiss upon my neck. “Hope is the mind’s way of coping...the body’s way of keeping you alive for just one more day.”

“Then why do you still cling to it?” I mummered, leaning my head down, lips brushing his. “Why haven’t you thrown yourself over...” I tilted my head towards the endless realm of air beyond the balcony, “If everything of light and beauty is just a fantasy?”

 A frown creased the skin between his eyes. He glared at me, his teeth bared against my lips, accosting the kiss. “I...” And he trailed off.

“Hope itself might be an illusion, but the things it pertains to?  Love, happiness, peace...? They exist.” I was trembling, lips still pressed to his teeth, the barrier preventing the connection between us. I clasped his hand again, pressing it to me. “I have you, Black Flower.”

His teeth were sheathed; his lips were finally yielding. Whispering now, I crept my hand onto his thigh, caressing, “You have me. Did you not hope for this, Cast? At some point, did you not HOPE for US?”

He didn’t answer. His slight body pushed against mine, demanding I submit, and I did...the balcony floor was cold on my back. He was so light though, so small and fragile, but warm, his body atop mine. We kissed for a long while, hardly breathing, hardly speaking. I could feel our pulses combined, throbbing through the floor of the balcony. And the metal didn’t seem so cold anymore.

Skies were gray above me, but I thought I could see the sun shining through...for the second time this week.

I knew, if I found him, maybe now...maybe I had the power to coax my real father away from the evil that ensnared him. Maybe it had even lost its grip already, and he was searching for me, desperate to find the daughter he’d lost. Maybe? I had hope.

Snively finally broke his mouth from mine. With half-closed eyes, his warm breath upon my face, he whispered. “Yes...I did.”

                              ******

Two days later.

Sally awoke with a start. She heard loud voices outside. Lupe and her pack must have arrived, and they were being greeted. But no...she tilted her head, frowning. These voices were angry.

She rose from the bed and shed her pink nightgown, changing quickly into vest and boots, strapping NICOLE to one, and exited the hut. Outside, Sonic was aiming a gloved finger at a small group of villagers. They weren’t looking at each other though, they were staring at the wall of Sally’s hut. She stopped and watched them.

“We didn’t do it!” One of the group whined defiantly. “We don’t believe that crap!”

“Oh sure!” Sonic growled, and one of his feet tapped impatiently. “You just happened to be walking by, I bet!”

“That’s right, and you better lay off or-“

Sally reached the group. “What is going on here?” She demanded, and then she glanced to the wall of her hut.

Written in large bold letters of mud was the word “WITCH”. Beneath the wall, the dirt had scoop marks from the angry fingers that had smeared the accusation.

“I bet we can get fingerprints or something off this!” Sonic jabbed his glove at the word, his eyes fiercely alight. “Then we’ll find out who did it!”

“And do what to ‘em?” A male dog stepped forward in the group. “She might not believe that ‘crap’,” He aimed a thumb at the whiny female who was still shaking her head. “But I’m not so sure, myself!” He eyed Sally with a cold steely gaze. “I saw some of the stuff she did. She used MAGIC against that black lady.”

“Whatever,” retorted Sonic, even though he’d seen the battle between Sally and Casssar as well, and could hardly deny that his lover had used unearthly powers. “Whatever, you don’t know. Croissant has magic...but Sally doesn’t. I think you should be blaming Croissant for all this!”

“That’s Casssar,” Sally corrected and touched a finger to the ‘W’ on the wall. “But Sonic’s right...Casssar is the enemy! Casssar and Snively.” She refrained from adding, ‘Not me! Not me! What is wrong with you, have I ever tried to HARM any of you!?’ Her tongue itched to say it.

“But you don’t deny using magic! Huh?”

“Who cares if she did?!” Sonic butted in. “So what? Dulcy can do magic and no one says crap about her!”

“She’s a dragon. Dragons are SUPPOSED to have Powers.” Another iron-hard gaze was thrown to Sally. “And Dulcy never killed anyone.”

“It was ROBOTNIK,” Sonic seethed. “He DESERVED it!”

“Killin’ ain’t right, but some people just have it comin’,” an accented voice cut in. Sally turned to see Bunnie and Geoffrey. “Ah would’ve killed the basthad too, if Ah had caught him in Knothole before Sally-girl had.”

Geoffrey nodded. “Shit, yeah. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t kill Robotnik to protect Knothole.” He sneered, fangs glinting. “Or maybe you wouldn’t, you bunch of pansies. You’d probably just LET him round everyone up, eh? You know what he’d DO? He’d KILL all of you!”

“HEY!” A small raccoon nervously waved a hand at Geoffrey. “You got some of us together, remember? We WERE fighting!” He shivered. “But that black lady...she did something... Can’t remember anything after that. Except waking up and seeing Robotnik dead.” He blinked. “I didn’t even know the Princess had...had killed him.”

“There’s too many un-answered questions,” the whiny lady complained. “That’s the problem. Maybe you should explain to everyone, Princess. So that we know what REALLY happened!”

Sally kept staring at the word. Witch. It held so much negative connotations. But there was nothing wrong with magic-users. They just had a special ability, that’s all, like Sonic’s speed, or Tails’ flying. It was the fact that they thought she used her so-called Powers for evil, for murder. Even the murder of the one they all feared and hated. It was scary...scary to know someone had the power to murder. ‘But I used a knife,’ she thought cynically. ‘Anyone can do THAT.’

Casssar was a witch. A dark witch. It was SHE who had possessed the villagers, and turned THEM into murderers. They didn’t know that. They couldn’t. They couldn’t KNOW, because Daddy was preventing her from telling them the truth. That they had been controlled by Casssar through the Source... They couldn’t know that Cu Chulainne had helped her fight Casssar off and wipe Snively’s memory clean of the location of Knothole. No...all they could know was that their Princess had killed Robotnik, and that she had fought the strange black lady with magic, and that they themselves had been in some sort of magical coma, unable to remember what they had done. What a dilemma.

“Maybe I will,” she said wearily. “Maybe I WILL explain everything.” She thought of her father, and was suddenly angry. Maybe HE should explain it, she hissed inwardly. “But first...the Wolf Pack will be arriving, and we have to plan for a mission.” She turned her back on the group, facing Sonic, Geoffrey, and Bunnie. Behind her, she heard them grumbling, but they dispersed.

Geoffrey was giving her an odd look. It took her a moment to understand it, but as a small smile curled his lips, she realized it was... comprehension. As if he were sharing her secret with her. Sonic just looked peeved, his green eyes glaring at her hut wall.

“Ok,” she said, shrugging off Geoffrey’s look; it gave her a pang of discomfort. She appreciated his sympathy...but it didn’t FEEL like just pretense...it felt like he really KNEW. But that was impossible. Unless he’d followed her and saw her go in the secret door?

‘No. I was always careful. There was never anyone around.’

“Ok, well, like I told them, we need to start thinking up a game plan for when the wolves get here. If we want to get Snively out of power...”

“Yeah. We do.” Geoffrey nodded, the smile fading from his lips, but remaining in his eyes, little conspiring twinkles.

A red and white shoe kicked against the wall of her hut. “I think we should get this trash off here, first.” Sonic rubbed his glove angrily against the letter “T.”

“Ah agree!” said Bunnie.

“Ah, what’s the point?” A large sigh escaped the Princess. “They’ll just do it again.”

“Ya’ll can’t take that kind of treatment!” Bunnie scowled, pushing one floppy ear out of her face. She put her organic arm around Sally. “C’mon now, Sally-girl, don’t let them fools get ta ya!”

“Alright,” She relented.

They spent the next hour washing the muddy word off her hut, and Bunnie took it upon herself to pull the weeds in Sally’s flower garden and wash her windows.

“Now ya’ll can come over to mah place,” said Bunnie after they were finished. Sonic grimaced.

Geoffrey chuckled. “I think MY hut needs a little more attention...I’ve got a whole pile of dirty dishes...”

“Pig,” Sonic said, and Geoffrey scoffed.

“Oh sure, hedgehog, last time I saw your place it looked like a tornado had hit-“

“Now, now, boys,” Bunnie playfully gave them both a shove.

Antoine came running up, tripping over a rock. He fell in pile at Bunnie’s feet and she pulled him up. As she brushed off his uniform, Antoine panted, “Pardon moi, but zee Wolf Pack is being on their ways here. Tails and I saw from zee lookout tower....he is leading them here right now.”

“Way past,” Sonic said, grinning. He was a big fan of Lupe’s. Geoffrey was nodding...he was fond of Lupe too, but not for the same reason as Sonic. The hedgehog loved her confident poise and soft, but determined attitude. Geoffrey...well...

“I hope she’s still wearing that lil blue get-up,” he said.

“Let’s go to the firepit to meet them,” Sally suggested, before any of the chastising comments in Bunnie’s head could reach her mouth. Sonic discarded his muddy gloves on Sally’s front step and they made their way to the village center, gathering around the remains of the previous fire.

                        ********

“My Goddess.”

Lupe’s usually calm stern eyes were filled with awe. Impressed. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached into the wooden box that housed the gleaming metal arm, ears and eyes of the late Julian Robotnik. Those gray digits ran along the cold length of the arm, then withdrew. Her mouth became a thin determined line. “Your people are fierce warriors indeed, Princess.”

To Sally’s surprise and dismay, Lupe and her followers dropped to one knee before her. “We are humbled before such strength.”

“Oh no...n-n-no,” Sally stammered, crouching down in front of the Wolven Chieftain and grabbing her by the shoulders. She stood up, pulling Lupe with her. “No, don’t bow.”

‘You don’t know what really happened.’

“We’re not any higher than you.”

Sonic looked about to crack a joke, but he seemed to sense something, his lover’s shame, and he nodded vigorously. “Yeah, c’mon guys, stand up.”

“We’re ALL Freedom Fighters,” Bunnie said.

The wolves stood, but they still beheld Sally with reverent eyes all through the dinner.

                              *****

She was grateful for the fall of night, for around the campfire the twinkling light in the wolves’ eyes could be attributed to the crackling flames.

The fire was sizzling. Tails, Dulcy, and their wolf pup friends were throwing pine needles onto the burning embers.

Lupe looked over the fire at Sally. “What is going on the city? How is it faring?”

“We haven’t been there yet,” the Princess admitted. “I imagine it’s the same as ever.”

“Dark n’ ugly,” said Tails.

“And stinky,” said Dulcy, fanning her nose. The two wolf cubs giggled.

“We’re thinking,” Geoffrey gestured at himself and Tory. “That security might be a little lax around there. Snively not being smart like his ole Uncle and all.”

Sally stiffened. What a fool thing to say. She held her sharpest reprimands back. “Even if that’s so, we CAN’T underestimate him.” She was like a broken record. But she had never been one of the ones who deemed their enemy a stupid baby. Well...a baby, maybe. Immature.

But a baby with cunning in those big blue eyes.

The chieftain’s soft voice agreed. “No, no. I imagine we shouldn’t.”

Her eyes were probing Sally for something. She wondered what, trying to hide her discomfort, as the sparks popped out of the fire like burning fireflies. One landed on Lupe’s foot and she didn’t flinch. The wolf’s eyes were so placid yet strong, like the eye of a storm. She was like a goddess, a great beautiful goddess connected to Mobius itself.

‘Like Cu. But not like Cu.’

Cu was not disappointed by a lack of strength. Cu did not damn weakness or confusion or hate. Sally had a feeling, that if the wolf goddess were to sift through her thoughts she would be most displeased. She might even be disgusted.

She didn’t ever want to see disappointment in Lupe’s gaze, never wanted it directed at her. She glanced over at Sonic and Geoffrey. And not at them. Her mind’s eye saw her father. And never, ever towards him.

“We’ll see how smart he is, I guess,” said Sonic. “I don’t think it matters. Robuttnik was smart, wasn’t he? And now...” He jerked his head towards the flames. “He’s nothing.”

There was silence for a long while. The children went to bed. The flames died down. Some plans were laid out in quiet tones, until finally, Sonic yawned and announced that everyone needed sleep. He put his arm around Sally as they left, walking her to her hut.

“Night, Sal.”

“Goodnight, Sonic.”

                              ******

*From the pen of Princess Sally Acorn*

Dear Journal...

Today we woke up early and despite the oncoming autumn, the air held warmth, and the morning sun was turning the leaves to shimmering copper rust and red fire. Gods, it was utterly gorgeous. A day to feel ALIVE. A day for victories.

We didn’t march like soldiers to the brink of the dark city. We skipped and sang and laughed. Spirits were high even as we drew near to the heart of Robotropolis, where the colors and light disappeared.

We started off by destroying a few factories. We spoke into every SpyEye in sight, telling Snively it was all over. His retaliation was weak and easily fought back. The city was in shambles and disorganized. Snively was nowhere near the strategist of his Uncle, and he lacked that fierce passion, that feeling of ‘this is personal.’ Everything was personal to Robotnik.

Snively came out to confront us, with SWATbots and a laser rifle. He fought to the end, which was surprising to me. Maybe I should be a little sad. One of Lupe’s pack took him down with a shot to the heart.

Maybe I should cry a bit, thinking about his small body lying amidst the junk and dirt, a total failure...a total waste of life. No but no...maybe I shouldn’t. He chose to waste it. We’ll burn him, though, or bury him....give him some last respect at least.

So...in high spirits we returned home and we’ll be drawing up plans later to rebuild Mobotropolis. Daddy is smiling for real today.

I saved the best thing for last, Journal. Sonic and I kissed at the edge of Robotropolis, after our victory. It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt. I can’t even begin to describe it. But here... it was so warm, so tender. So connected. I could feel his soul and he could feel mine, and there was no uncertainty anymore. He knows he’ll never be useless; he’ll always be pivotal to MY world. And I know I’ll never be alone in my burdens ever again. Because he’ll carry them too.

We’re going to tell Daddy tonight...that we’re going to get married.

This is the best day of my life. If I died right now, I would die fulfilled. But let us hope that many more days lie ahead. I just know they’ll be filled with light from now on.

                              ******

Morning in Knothole. Uncle Chuck was standing by the firepit, his robotic hide gleaming in the early light.

Lupe and a few of her pack members smiled at him. “We heard of your bravery,” she said. “But it’s not the first time you’ve saved Knothole, is it?”

Uncle Chuck smiled and shook his head. “It’s just part of the job.”

“Eh?” Sonic looked at Sally, confused. The squirrel looked tired, but strangely elated. Her hair was mussed from sleep but she didn’t seem concerned. ‘Strange,’ the hedgehog thought.

She shrugged.

Lupe raised an eyebrow, elaborating. “King Acorn told of Sir Charles’s last minute save. He hacked into the Robotropolis mainframe and erased Knothole’s coordinates. So Snively couldn’t come back.”

“Oh uh, yeah!” Sonic said, grinning broadly. “Yup, my Uncle Chuck is a smart one.”

Sally stared at Charles. He smiled.

“I didn’t know you-“ She began and then nodded. “Yes, Charles’s bravery has saved us a few times before.” She grinned at Lupe’s expression, that unsettling searching look. “It’s been so hectic around here, that I’m afraid I’m getting a little air-brained.”

The wolf Chieftain nodded.

Sonic glanced at his watch. “We’d better get ready and get on the road. I can’t wait to bust some ole Snidely butt.”

The elated look on Sally’s face faded. “Yes,” she said, and excused herself. She strode off quickly, with both hedgehog and wolf eyes staring bemusedly after her.

                              *****

“Hey Sal, whatsa matter?” Sonic stood outside her bathroom door ten minutes later. He could hear small sniffling sounds.

“Oh nothing.” She threw open the door and he jumped back. “I just had this dream, Sonic, that it was ALL over. It was just so beautiful.” She angrily swiped at her messy hair, her eyes wet. “And this morning, I still was thinking it was real! Until you reminded me of the mission!”

“Gee Sal, I’m sorry,” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “But hey, your dream is gonna be real, real soon!”

Dear Journal, someday I’ll look back and believe all the lies. Someday all the lies will be truth.

How many lies have to build up before a truth is born underneath them, like a diamond being formed from coal? Can I even dig it out, will I have the strength to? And what happens to all the lies, how many hands will they stain, how many coal miners will have blackened skin and lungs at the end of it all?

Sonic was eating a piece of candy off the bowl on her kitchen table. “Hey Sal,” he said, chewing, “How come Snively didn’t come back? I don’t remember Uncle Chuck talking about doing that.”

“I don’t know. Maybe he just forgot.”

“Him? Forget something like that?” Sonic chortled. “Yeah right, Sal! Did someone use a memory scrambler on him again?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they did...”

Yeah, they had. But she couldn’t tell him that.

“I just think it’s kind of weird, that’s all,” he said, taking a few more pieces of candy before escorting her outside.

“It is,” she agreed.

Next time I open the hut door and crawl inside my bed, I hope I’m smiling and not crying...I hope the war is over and not still thriving. I hope dreams do come true. Or at least, the good dreams. Because HE dreams too...

                              ******

The group was assembled. Lupe and three of her pack members. Canis, Diablo and Thunderhill. Bunnie. Geoffrey. Sonic and Sally.

They began to walk. Surprising, Sonic slowed his usual hectic pace, perhaps out of honor for their guests.

Thunderhill eyed the distant city with a disgusted eye. “Instead of this, skulking about we’re going to be doing, why do we not just go in and kill the little rat?”

Sally glanced over at him. “You guys are willing to kill him?” She thought of her dream, and eyed them. They had their mechanical crossbows with them. Feather-ended bolts ready to plunge into the tyrant’s heart.

“Yes,” the wolf answered savagely, but Lupe’s silken voice cut in.

“We are willing if we must. If he surrenders, then it is cowardice to kill him.” She eyed Sally keenly. “And it is your decision, or your father’s, is it not?”

“No,” said Sally, after a moment’s pause. “I don’t know. He’d say it was. But I don’t know. Snively didn’t just hurt us...he and Robotnik hurt everyone.”

“Very well.” The Chieftain cast Thunderhill an icy look. “We will kill him if we must, but otherwise, there is to be no death.”

The wolf snorted. Geoffrey rolled his eyes.

Dear Journal, will I seem callous if I agree with them? That, as much as justice would be better...having Snively serve time (his lifespan and nothing less) for his crimes? Rotting in the knowledge of all the wrong he did? That would be better, but the bigger part of me wants to see him dead on the ground.

They reached the outskirts of the city.

They went further in, to the looming clanking hissing smog-spewing factories...and this was their goal for the day. A simple test of cause and effect.

He dreams too – but broken dreams. Broken dreams don’t come true.

                              ***

Robotropolis – Dining Hall

“This could’ve been a bird. Singing in the sky. Free as the wind and all that. And now look at it.”

“What a pleasant thought...do you always have such lovely thoughts first thing in the morning?” Casssar looked across the small metal table at Snively, who was holding a forkful of egg up to his mouth, the yolk oozing back onto his plate.

“No...” He grinned and ate the bite of egg. “Just think, Casssar,” He said, chewing, “That bird could’ve crapped on my hovercraft windshield, but it can’t now, eh? Stop things in advance, Cass, that’s what you have to do.”

“Black Flower...” She groaned and took a sip of coffee – black and strong, just the way she liked it. “There are plenty of days for planning. Let’s take today to...” A devious grin showed over the rim of the coffee mug, “have a little FUN.”

Snively eyed her, stabbing another clump of egg with his fork. Then a mad smile lit up his face. “I’ve been wanting to try that Jacuzzi of Julian’s out. The fat bastard NEVER let me use it...well, I did when he was gone...and it’s nice, Cass. I think you’ll enjoy the water jets...”

She cackled. “What a stimulating thought...”

“Yes.” He laughed.

 **

The west side of Robotropolis used to be a glorious place. It had been a lush dreamworld in Sally’s childhood mind. Nothing but joy there...in the salt-spray air, daddy smiling at her, twirling her into the sky and water. Sand had been between her toes. By the water it was smushy and wet and further in, it was dry, soft and warm, so wonderful to lay upon.

The bay...the aquamarine jewel of Mobotropolis.

It had been, anyway. Now the waters were poisoned and black, and the beach was a place only a madman would tred barefoot upon. The smell was a constant stench of rotting fish and sickly gray slime that grew upon the trash and charred rocks.

Two factories loomed like cliff walls on the curving shore. They took the filthy water and purified it, for the city denizen’s use. ‘All two of them,’ she thought dryly.

It surely was not the most important target in the world – the water refinery – but it was something. For the test of cause, it was.

They were going to cause the refinery to go bye-bye in a lovely blaze of exploding glory.

Sally had something else in mind, a blow to Snively’s face along with the destruction of his water supply. She hoped it would put pride in Lupe’s eyes, and fear in Snively’s.

I don’t care about being careful. No skulking and hiding this time. I want him to SEE.

She almost couldn’t wait for that moment. But first, she had to pay attention to the mission.

“Ok,” she said aloud. “Let’s get the explosives set.” She stuck out her arm. “Synchronize watches.”

The rest extended their arms; the wolves had watches they had borrowed. After all watches were set to the exact timer, they ran off in separate directions to plant their explosive canisters around the refinery.

Sally’s trek took her to the rear of the refinery. She ran delicately along the vast pipes that extended from the building out into the putrid black water. She set a few canisters along the pipes and then made her way back to the shore.

The wind blew back her hair, filling her nose with the poison air. It burned her nostrils. She narrowed her eyes, staring out over the water. It was so dark, and where it met the horizon, the distant blue sky almost seemed to glow neon, just a blazing azure strip of sky below the gray clouds. She shivered. Her father used to tell her stories...about shipwrecks, about ancient civilizations of sea creatures under the waves who...if they favored a sailor, they would take him to shore, or down to their city, using magic to help them breathe.

If they didn’t favor you...well...you were left to drown in the deep waters. She imagined any enchanted sailors and sea-creatures were dead now. She didn’t think anything could survive in that water now...

There wasn’t even a bird in the sky.

Dear Journal, I was wishing to be a leaf again, or a bird, so I could fly over the waves far away, and maybe find a place where the water ran clear again, a shoreline with trees and bushes. A place without corruption.

I don’t even know...if there’s a place like that anymore...or if there EVER was.

She followed the pipe back to the refinery, planting a few explosives around where the pipes connected to the dirty gray walls. Then she leapt down to the sand, stumbling over a piece of debris. She caught herself with her hands, nearly slicing one on a glass shard lying dangerously close.

“Ugh,” she grunted, standing up. “What a mess...”

It would take us years to clean this place if we ever win the city back. It might not ever be the same, not in my lifetime, anyway.

Angrily, she kicked the glass shard away. Seconds later, the glowing red of a laser blast exploded next to it.

She turned sharply on her heel. A SWATbot was standing, its arm outstretched, wrist-laser aimed towards her. “Surrender, Intruder,” it demanded.

“Crap,” she said, midnight-blue eyes narrowing. She took a few steps back, pretending to trip and land upon her rear. A pitiful wail filled the air.

The SWATbot advanced, the threatening arm held outwards. She reached behind her, feeling the sharp edges in her hand.

Robotnik’s SWATbots didn’t shoot when they thought their prey was helpless. He wanted them alive – so he could go beyond killing them, so he could damn them to robotic hell, like a spiteful dark God. The thought made her sneer, the expression jarring on her pretty face. Snively apparently hadn’t changed any SWATbot protocol.

But who’s to say this is good or bad? But lazy, it seems. Lazy. Lazy child, you’ll pay for that, Snively.

She hurled the hunk of glass at the bot. The laser blast hit accurately and shattered the glass; Sally was already upon the bot before it could refocus, her dagger in hand. The handle was hard wood, the blade a sharpened rock. Ideal for cutting the neck wires of a SWATbot.

Strong legs vaulted her upon the SWAT’s back and she hooked one arm around its neck, the other quickly slicing through the wires. She gritted her teeth as the sparking ends touched her fur and crackled.

The bot fell silently and she landed upon the sand. This time, her hand didn’t avoid its fate with the glass. A sliver sliced into her palm and the warm blood oozed.

I won, but I was wounded. She pressed her other hand to the cut. Funny, isn’t it, Journal? That’s how this whole war has gone.

                              *****

Sonic and Thunderhill were the first back to the meeting spot. Sonic eyed the brown wolf with a wary grin. Thunderhill had a dagger in his hand and he was flipping it and catching it by the handle. Sonic kept expecting him to cut himself at any moment.

“This is gonna rock,” the hedgehog commented, staring at the refinery.

“I suppose,” the wolf grunted. “If you like pretty fireworks.”

Sonic cast a sidelong glance at him. His watch was ticking down, and from their view atop a hill, he could see Lupe and the others approaching. But Sally wasn’t there...

“And what do you like, dude?”

The knife handle landed firmly in the large brown paw and the blade was jutted towards Sonic. The hedgehog blinked but didn’t recoil. “I’d like to see his entrails spilling onto the floor. No games. Straight to the-,” Thunderhill extended the knife, so the tip poked into Sonic’s peach chest fur, “-point.”

The hedgehog lowered his head and his eyes focused on the shining metal. Slowly, his lip curled into a snarl.

**From the mind of Sonic ’I don’t like death ’Hedgehog...**

I don’t know what came over me. I’m usually so calm and cool, ya know? ‘Steels of Nerves’ as ole Ant would say. But at that moment, I just wanted to strangle the guy, or maybe spin-dash him into a million pieces.

It’s really weird...me wanting to hurt him. When it was him talking about hurting others that made me so mad.

Maybe I’m just scared...that I have a killer in me too...

Maybe I’m scared Sally does.

“I heard talk around the town. It was your female that killed him.”

Thunderhill had a smirky sort of look on his face. It made my hackles raise. I hated it. The bloodlust. It was like Robotnik, sort of. Ole Fat-boy always wanted to hurt people. He got jollies from it.

“Fine woman. A fine woman, most definitely.”

Don’t talk about her, you cretin. I don’t want you looking at my girl. She isn’t like you.

“I’m sure she’s proud. And I’m sure you honor her, right?”

I wished the others would get here. I was starting to get that trembling feel in my legs, the feeling I get when I need to RUN and fight and RUN. And rip apart metal with my spin-dashes. My spin-dash could probably rip him apart, like a saw blade. I bet it could. *His* guts would be the ones on the ground.

I gulped and looked up. I guess I needed to see his face in order to get control. I have to remember that he’s a living person. I pushed the knife away with my gloved hand.  “No, she isn’t. Sally doesn’t LIKE to kill. She wasn’t herself that day.”

He put the knife away, finally. “Oh? Is that so? It sounds more like the whining of a hero too afraid to get his hands wet...”

What a chump. I really don’t want Sally hanging around him. He’ll make her feel awful. She DIDN’T like what she did, I know it! I don’t like it either, but I know Sally was in a strange state of mind. Robotnik was in the village. She flipped out. She lost it; she was just trying to protect us and everything. It was either Robotnik or us. And hey, I don’t have any problem with it being Robuttnik.

Sally? Where was she, anyway? I squinted down the hill, trying to ignore Thunderhill’s stare, his stupid fangs glinting. “It ain’t like that, buddy,” I spoke without looking at his ugly mug. “We just don’t think killing is right. It’s a last resort for us.”

“Perhaps Lupe underestimated the valor of your group.” Thunderhill snorted.

I finally looked at him. I was really pissed off at this point. “Lupe is one of the smartest people around, besides Sally. She KNOWS people. If she says she respects us, then she respects us!”

I just couldn’t believe Lupe was in the same league as this guy. They weren’t anything alike. Lupe was WISE, that’s what she was. Like Rosie or Uncle Chuck. She isn’t some chump who’s gonna hate us because we don’t believe in killing people. Even if she believes in it herself, she’s like...respectful, you know? She would never think bad of us because of that. Never.

This guy is a moron.

“Ah Lupe,” he says, as the beautiful Chieftain finally comes up to us. “How did it go?”

“Fine,” she answered. The rest of the group was coming up behind her. I glanced around and didn’t see Sally’s face.

“Where’s Sally?” I asked, trying not to sound too worried.

Everyone peered about. No sign of her.

I had a wild thought then, of Sally marching into the command Center with a knife. Snively was cowering in the throne like the pansy he is. Sally grabs him by the shirt collar and raises her other hand.

She’s got her knife...and she stabs it into his stomach over and over and he makes these really horrible squealing noises. All his guts fall on the floor.

No way!! Sally isn’t ANYTHING like that...she’s not like that at all. I suddenly glared over at Thunderhill and his stupid face...I hated him so much in that moment. I hated him and the Death that he coveted....I hated him for thinking Sally was like him.

She’s NOT.

I stared down the hill again, trying to look cool.

Where the hell was she, anyway?

                                    ***

Sally was running. She was sprinting along the shore. She was following a SpyEye. It wasn’t moving very fast, and it wasn’t looking at her. She glanced over her shoulder, trying to gauge the distance between here and the meeting hill, her quick mind trying to calculate the time it would take to get there. They would be waiting for her, by now, most likely.

She leaned down while running and scooped up a piece of debris. One eye shut and aimed on the floating camera and she let the garbage chunk fly. It hit the camera squarely and knocked it to the sand. She was upon it in moments, disconnecting the visual wire and tucking it under her arm.

He WOULD see now, for sure. When she was ready.

She checked her watch. Three minutes to detonation.

She turned, and running madly, made for the hill.

                              ***

Four delicate fingers cut a path through steam. A ragged crooked path, like the scratches still healing on his arms. Snively could see himself, mostly obscured by a veil of white coating the bathroom mirror, but clearly, clearly through those finger-made paths he could see his eyes.

The eyes, an empty blue, a frozen lake or the internals of a cold lonely glacier. Casssar said his eyes were beautiful.

Snively blinked one eye slowly, watching his lid slide over pupil and retina and cornea, till the lashes lay closed in a soft brown fringe. Maybe he liked his eye better like this, hidden away.

Casssar said they were lovely – she said they were a Wonder of Mobius. ‘Or they should be, anyway,’ her sensuous voice had chuckled.

But he didn’t. He wasn’t sure about THAT. Everyone said eyes were the window to the soul. If his eyes led to his soul, then there was no way his eyes were beautiful. His eyes were the gates to Hell.

‘Don’t let them deceive you,’ he’d told Casssar.

Snively drifted from the bathroom to his bedroom, catching a glimpse of himself in the full-length mirror. Robotnik used to stare into that mirror. Snively’s body was a contrast to that massive form. Milk-pale, reed-slender. Weak. He twisted his arms to see the self-inflicted scratches, a small smile tugging his lips. The scratches were blooming rose-red against their white backdrop. It was oddly beautiful, in some strange way.

‘Like Snow White,’ he thought with a sneer. Red as blood, white as snow. Black as ebony? He narrowed those pale eyes. No black on his body, but inside, his heart was as dark as charred wood. Ebony indeed.

Bah. He stuck his tongue out at the mirror and narrowed his Gates in defiance of the weakling reflection. Let that reflection rot there. Let it seethe with all its memories and fuck-ups. He didn’t care. He wasn’t even that person anymore.

“Fuck you Robotnik...” he whispered, “and fuck you, Snively...” He turned away from the mirror. “I’m a Black Flower now...”

                                    **

Robotnik’s Jacuzzi room was a room Snively had saw very little of in the old days. The metal walls, instead of being smooth, were large paneled tile made of different colors of metal. Copper and Bronze tiles were intermingled with the usual steel alloy that made up the rest of the city’s interior. The floor was some kind of dark metal, or stone perhaps, he couldn’t tell.

He padded in, white towel wrapped about his waist. His skin was still wet from his recent shower.

In the center of the room, sunk into the floor, with steps leading down, was the pit of bubbling frothy water. He blinked.

Casssar was waiting for him. She was dancing. She seemed oblivious to his presence, twirling and swaying as smooth as fog across the room. Arms lifted and curled to an unheard song, but he could imagine it: something, dark, rhythmic. Chanting maybe. She half-turned in a slow lazy motion, peering over her shoulder at him. “Was it necessary to bathe your entire body? You are just going to get wet again.”

He’d spilled coffee on himself at breakfast. So he’d showered. It had burnt his leg and reminded him of the blood. Just the thought of Julian’s caustic fluids had started the awful blood specks burning on his body again. He really couldn’t stand it.

But it was washed off now – for now. Until it came back...

“I felt a bit unclean,” he said.

She was still dancing, delicate steps around the perimeter of the Jacuzzi. The black body was turned away from him, her tail floating out lazily in an arc around her. He stared at her rear, and gulped.

“For some reason, I’m starting to feel that way again.”

Casssar let loose her sensuous laugh. It wrapped around him. Nerves all over his body tingled like tiny sparking wires, and he shivered. She winked. She knew all that trembling wasn’t from cold...the room was steamy and warm as a jungle.

“This is called Shadow Dancing,” She informed him, while her hands did their own little dance across her body. He watched them, utterly intrigued. “My mother was teaching me. Before Daddy found the Source...” She smiled slightly, swaying a bit closer to him. “She didn’t dance after that. I almost forgot about it, myself. But...” She grinned, leaning her face into his. “I suppose I didn’t.”

“Your mother didn’t include the fondling, did she?” Snively returned a devious grin.

“No.” Another one of those warm laughs made him tingle. “That’s my own personal...” One of her hands drifted to his towel. “...Touch.”

He blushed as she pulled the towel away and let it drop to the floor. “Well, let’s get in already,” he mumbled, staring down at the tile. She chuckled and grabbed one of his slender wrists, and pulled him down the steps into the Jacuzzi.

                              ****

“Shit happens. Everyone dies eventually. The end.”

Shit happens. – It didn’t have to happen on his time. He wouldn’t let it.

Everyone dies eventually. – Yeah, so? You couldn’t beat Death, but that didn’t mean you had to lay down for it.

Why do you have to lay down for Life, then? Why do you have to let Life dance you around like a little puppet? Sonic frowned. He frowned hard. He’d never thought of it *that* way before.

The end – Did anything ever end? Really? He didn’t know that. He wasn’t the philosophical type. The Acorn’s Royal Symbol was an Arborous, a snake that bit its own tail. It meant that things went around and around with beginning and endings overlapping. In a sense, there wasn’t any beginning or end.

Shit, his head hurt. No wonder he didn’t think very often. So Sonic focused on what he did best. He put every ounce of focus into running.

“Sally...where are you?”

He whipped around the factory. She wasn’t in sight. He dashed to the massive pipes that brought water into the refinery; that was Sally’s area to place explosives. The explosives were there, so she’d made it this far, at least. He hopped atop a pipe, surveying the area.

There was a SWATbot laying on the sand below.

He leapt down and dashed along the beach, following the indentations in the sand.

There she was! Running this way, her hair so bright against the gray sky. He stopped and watched her for a moment; she was running with her head down and her arms pistoning. Quite fast for a regular Mobian.

Pretty slow to him.

“Sally!” He was before her in seconds. “Where the heck have you been?!” He thrust his watch into her face. “There’s like a minute before ka-blooey!”

He reached for her arm, then noticed the disengaged SpyEye. “What’s that for?”

“You’ll see,” she said mysteriously.

“Alright,” he said begrudgingly. He didn’t like being kept out of the loop, especially Sally’s loop. “Let’s get back then.” Without further words, he scooped her into his arms and took off for the hill.

She clutched the SpyEye tight. It was the only guarantee he would *see*.

                              *****

Snively sank into the bubbles until they rode up around his bare shoulders. The heat wrapped him like a warm blanket and he sighed blissfully. Across from him, Casssar winked, letting out a similar contented sound.

“This is quite nice, Black Flower.”

“Oh yes. Just wait till I turn on the jets-“

He faltered in mid-reach. He could feel the floor trembling, as if afflicted by a slight earthquake. Red lights began to flash, silently; there were no klaxon sirens. Which was a good thing. But red flashy lights were never a good sign in Robotropolis.

He could see the red blinking on the water, turning it from clear to scarlet. Like blood. He grimaced and shut his eyes tight. “What now? What now?!”

“It must be a rebel attack,” Casssar said, casually. Her foot moved underwater and nestled into his lap.

He sank back down. “I should see what’s going on.”

“Then go,” said she, with a devious smile. Her toes curled, groping.

“...there’s no sirens. It probably isn’t serious...” He sat up again and turned on the jets. Casssar’s smile lingered. Finally, Black Flower was learning to relax!

“Mmmm...” She arched her back against the pulsing jet behind her. “Feels nice...”

“Yes,” he said, distractedly. His eyes were half-closed, his head titled back onto the Jacuzzi’s headrest. “It does...” He stared up at the light. Red. Red. Red. “Maybe I should go...”

She purred. “Ignore it.”

“At least turn off the lights,” he said. “I can’t...” he mumbled incoherently and stirred his hand lazily about in the water. “They’re bothering me.”

“They’re just lights.” Her eyes were flashing. Her toes continued massaging into his lap and he sighed.

“Just lights, right.”

“Right.”

“Right,” he chuckled. “Maybe they showed up to surrender.”

She yawned contentedly. “They can surrender –after- we get out.”

He was blocking out the lights now. It seemed easy when he focused on Cass’s lazy smile, and the feel of her feet fondling him. The jets were massaging his muscles, almost forcing him to lay back and relax.

Ok. So maybe that was a good idea. Snively thought maybe he’d listen to her, for once. She leaned forward, and he tilted his head to kiss, only a lip-space away...

When the sirens went off.

                              *****

The explosion had been beautiful. Beyond fireworks. Even Thunderhill had seemed delighted at the flumes of smoke that rose up like the innards of a flower, surrounded by petals of flame. The ground had rocked under their feet.

They had left quickly. The sound of water...water gushing everywhere...out of the building, crashing down onto the streets, pouring into the city and back into the ocean...even their hill seemed a bit too close to the flood.

Sally was glad. She wanted to be closer to the citadel. She had her eyes and thoughts on something that wavered there. A flag of Robotropolis, torn at the edges, a brilliant red flag iconed with a black circle in the middle, and in the middle of that? A bold yellow R for Robotnik, for Robotropolis. It stood for everything she hated in this life.

“Let’s go,” she said, as they strode towards the looming Death Egg. Sonic and Bunnie shot her a quizzical look, but said nothing; the wolves all followed obediently. Geoffrey kept looking backwards at the billowing cloud of smoke. He seemed very pleased at the sight.

So was Sally. But it wasn’t enough. She was vaguely surprised to see not much retaliation...no SWATbot troops bearing down on them, no hovercraft on their tails.

She pictured Snively coming out and surrendering, his mouth twisted into a pout, begging for mercy. That was one scenario. Or maybe he was in the control room, with his pistol in his mouth, unable to live anymore, knowing that he was going to lose. Maybe he was tired of being a loser his whole life.

She hoped he wouldn’t kill himself, because she wanted him to live suffering. It was what he deserved. He didn’t deserve to suicide, didn’t deserve peace. It wasn’t fair for him to run into eternity and escape the punishment, escape the PAIN that he deserved.

Her jaw was aching. She realized she was clenching her teeth, snarling, her hands made into hard fists. Sonic was casting her an odd look, but she ignored him. They were in front of the citadel and she could see the flag wavering from the immense cement block it was planted in. Looming above the flag was a hideous statue of Robotnik, with his arm pointing downwards, like a God condemning them from the heavens.

“First thing we gotta do, when we get the city back, is get rid of this ugly thing,” Sonic commented, giving the statue a thumbs-down.

“Yes,” she said, idly. She aimed a finger at the flag. “Bunnie, could you get that for me?”

“Well shore...” The rabbot raised an eyebrow but did as instructed. Her powerful robotic arm snapped the flagpole off at the base and she brought the Robotropolian banner over to Sally.

“Hold onto it for a moment.”

“Alraight.” Bunnie looked over at Sonic. The hedgehog shrugged.

She took the SpyEye from under her arm and reconnected the visual wire. Then she let it go. It hovered, its red glaring lens staring at them. It would stay there, she knew...they were programmed to follow intruders.

She beckoned for Bunnie to hand her the flag. The Rabbot did, and Sally took it and set it firmly onto the ground beside her, holding it like a war banner. It fluttered in a weak breeze.

She stared back at the camera.

“Snively. I hope you’re listening. For your sake.”

                              *****

His bare feet slapped upon the floors. Crisp and sharp. Echoing anxiety and anger. His brow was furrowed, his breathing labored as Snively finally arrived before the doors of the command center. His towel was hanging askew at his waist. He was shivering...after leaving the heat of the Jacuzzi the air felt like ice. He expected the water on his skin to start freezing over at any minute.

When he entered, red, yellow, and blue lights were flashing on the computer console. He was grateful, in some unconscious way, for the yellow and blue. He went over, still dripping onto the floor, and scanned for the source of the sirens.

It was the water refinery. It had been attacked. He brought up a surveillance cam view from a factory across the street, taking note of the smoke and flooding streets. The fire. The sheer damage. He swore and slammed a fist onto the console.

There was a light blinking, indicating SpyEye feed of intruders. With his eye still trained on the footage of the smoldering refinery, he hit a button and another monitor lit up with the new footage.

“...Hope you’re listening. For your sake.”

He saw Princess Sally.

                              **

She peered into the rotating red lens, picturing his face staring back. She saw his eyes widen and his mouth drop. He was sweating in fear, and she smiled viciously. She kept the image of Snively subdued, Snively in terror, in her head. It helped fuel her words with that edge of confidence.

“I have a message for you. Your battle is useless. You can’t win this, Snively. Your uncle tried, he gave his life for it. There’s some things you can’t break, no matter how much hate and anger you pile on them. I’m telling you this Snively, to give you a chance to back down.”

Thunderhill snorted in the background, but Lupe silenced further remarks with a wave of her hand. Bunnie and Sonic stood behind Sally, their faces gone from bewildered to stern as they too gazed into the camera lens. They were always there to back her up.

“It isn’t our role to bring death. But we can, Snively...you’ve seen what happened to Robotnik. We might not have wanted it exactly that way, but we’ve shown that we can create that outcome. Believe me,” and here a slender accusing finger jabbed towards the lens, “I could care less if you live or die. Honestly. That’s up to you...if you surrender peacefully then we’ll have no reason to harm you...aside from your deserved punishment.”

Sonic nodded. Bunnie’s gleaming arm rested on her hip. “That’s raight sugah, ya’ll just come out-“

Sally turned her head. There was something fierce in her midnight-blue gaze...it silenced the rabbot in the midst of her words. She stuttered for a moment, then shut her mouth, averting her eyes to the ground. Sally turned back to the camera. Her body was trembling slightly.

Dear Journal...I wish it had just gone like my vision. With Snively coming out and dying so there was nothing to worry about. I think maybe, if I saw him dead...all this horrible anger and hate inside me would just dissipate...like morning fog. I really can’t stand the feeling of it inside me. It’s like a black fungus...spreading around my insides.

I wonder if it’s from him. If it’s Snively’s thoughts...like Cu said...he left remnants...he left a touch on my soul. The fingerprints Cu was talking about. I want to think these bitter feelings are from Snively. I don’t want to believe they can come from ME.

I wish Cu was here. It could tell me what is mine and what is his.

Maybe I don’t want Cu here.

Maybe Cu would tell me this is all me.

Maybe I’m not a good person at all.

Oh well. Good or not...She was still better than Snively. And she still didn’t care if he died...she wanted it. She still wanted it, even if she was good.

She didn’t know about the visual wire in the SpyEye. She hadn’t wiggled it in all the way, and now it began to wiggle its way out again, threatening to sever her visual and audio connection to the tyrant.

She thrust the flag of Robotropolis into the hard ground, her head lowered. She glared under her eyelashes at the lens, her most hateful, unnerving stare she could muster, trying to convey all her loathing for this flag and all it stood for...in that gaze.

“If you fight us, Snively...you *will* die.”

Her hair blew. Eyes smoldered. And the flag of Robotnik flapped in the sudden breeze.

The SpyeEye wire popped out.

                              ******

Behind Sally, the statue of Robotnik aimed its condemning finger. Snively couldn’t see his face, but he could imagine it in reality...Robotnik’s glowing eyes, his gleaming square teeth. The blue and yellow lights faded out...all Snively could see was the red. The red. The red.

Sally’s eyes were blue, but they had something in them...something like Robotnik. Giving a threat and a promise of pain. Of death. She had Robotnik’s flag in her hand, her fingers wrapped around it, and her lips formed awful words.

Snively felt dizzy, backing away from the monitor. Sally with Robotnik’s flag.

“You will die.”

Sally with Robotnik’s flag.

The screen turned to static; the last thing he saw was the banner unfurling in the breeze, revealing its emblem of Robotnik, the harbinger of all his pain...

He could hear the growl in her voice, the enunciation of each word.

‘You.’

She had his flag. She was allied with HIM, now.

‘Will.’

She was going to go back to Knothole and Cu Chulainne would surround Robotnik’s putrid, rotting corpse with light...

‘Die.’

He would get to his feet. He wouldn’t care about Knothole, or Sally, or Sonic, anymore.

Robotnik was coming. Sally would bring him. He was coming.

Snively was going to die.

He moaned, bringing hands to his head. His knees were weak and he stumbled against the console, shivering violently. He curled up against it, strange noises coming from his throat.

A prey aware of its oncoming slaughter.

                              *****

Sally didn’t notice the red glow of the SpyEye’s lens had died out. She was throwing herself into her words, fevered, barely even aware of the other Freedom Fighters around her. They were silent, eyes locked onto her slight trembling body.

“But it can end here...it can end NOW, Snively! Give yourself up. Enough death. Enough slavery. Your uncle is DEAD. His reign is over...and his empire is turning to dust. We aren’t going to let it stand anymore. I can promise you that.”

There was still no retaliation. No hovercrafts or robot troops. Maybe Snively was really listening to her. She scoffed inwardly.

She doubted it. If there was one thing she and Snively shared, it was their stubbornness. The little brat would wave her words away, like so much water rolling off a duck’s back, to splash useless and unnoticed upon the floor. Nothing she said would affect Snively.

He probably will die then, she thought, with a spark of fierce pleasure. As much as she wanted to see him dead, she would stick to her word; she wouldn’t kill him if he surrendered peacefully.

Maybe I’m better than...I thought?

But was restraint necessarily goodness? If she held back her urge to harm, did it make her a better person?

Can evilness be measured by mere intent, or does if have to include action? If I don’t act on it, am I still good...or am I still wicked for even having the thought within me?

Her voice began to tremble severely, on the verge of breaking.

I’m NOT evil...I’m NOT bad. Action always speaks louder than words, they say. It IS the action of evil that makes a person truly evil! IT HAS TO BE.

She threw the flag onto the ground, viciously and sudden, as if it’d burnt her. “This is ALL over, Snively...just let it GO! This KILLS everyone when you hold onto it. You can have a chance. You can live again. You don’t deserve it, but you can have it, Snively...just LET HIM GO.” She kicked a clod of dirt onto the flag, sullying the brilliant scarlet cloth.

She turned away from the dead camera, her eyes gleaming with tears. “Let’s go,” she said to Sonic. “Let’s just get out of here.”

They left.

Sonic looked back at the fallen flag, and his mouth twisted. “I wonder if he’ll listen...”

Thunderhill snorted and fingered the knife in his belt. “I hope not.”

                              *****

Casssar followed the wet slicked footsteps to the control room. She was shivering by the time she got there. Her fur was sodden and sticking to her skin, chilling her.

Another sort of shiver hit her when she entered...a sick jolting feeling down her spine as her ears witnessed the sound of pain...a combination of hoarse sobbing and whimpering.

Snively was curled in a fetal ball by the console, his towel twisted around his waist, head buried in his arms. Goosebumps were all over his pale skin and he was shaking even more violently than she.

“Cast...?” She approached him cautiously, her breath held in her lungs. “Cast...what is wrong?”

He didn’t acknowledge her. She stared down at him, so white and tiny against the vast metal floor. So weak.

A sudden flash of memory made her grimace...the sight of floating above herself...seeing her little girl form, with its white snowy fur, cringing on the floor, so pathetically helpless... She always seemed to float out when Daddy loomed over her, his hands on her legs, his eyes dead-lust.

She hated to see herself. She hated to be in that skin even more...back then.

She stared down at Snively and her mouth curled into a snarl, her sharp teeth flashing. She HATED to see him like that!

She reached down, so roughly, and dug her claws into his shoulder, throwing him to a sitting position against the console.

He stared at her in shock, blood trickling down onto his collarbone. His small body was pressed back against the console, his arms clutched to his chest. His eyes were insanely wide, spilling over with tears.

“Cast...” Her snarl faded at the sight of him, so bound up in fear.

She had hated to be in her skin back then...but her skin hadn’t deserved what had happened to it. It hadn’t been able to fight it, not then.

His eyes, pale and luminous, were staring right through her. One finger touched the trickling blood and smeared it over the white skin. “He’s coming...” It was a weak whisper. “He’s coming...they’re bringing him...”

She stared over the room. A monitor was hissing with static; another showed a view of some building by the bay, terribly damaged by explosives. It was still smoking and the streets were flooded.

“What has happened?” she demanded.

He curled up again. His eyes closed...he looked spent and hopeless. “It doesn’t matter,” he said dully.

“It looks quite bad.” She eyed the monitor again. “Maybe you should take care of this.”

He didn’t answer.

“Cast...” She nudged him with her foot. “You must take care of it.”

“Leave me alone...” he rolled over onto his back, gazing up at the ceiling. His skin was still prickled with goosebumps but he wasn’t shivering anymore. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?”

“He’s coming.”

“No, he isn’t!” She reached down and picked him off the floor. She cradled him in her arms just as a baby. He was limp and unresponsive. “Get this idea out of your head! He IS NOT coming back!”

Snively’s eyes shifted from the ceiling to her face, just staring, for a long unnerving moment. Something mad touched them, lighting up, like a flare under ice. “SHE’s bringing him back...she said so. She bloody SAID SO!” He aimed a finger at the hissing static-ridden monitor. “She had his flag...she said he was coming...Don’t tell me it’s NOT TRUE, Cass!”

The ermine seemed at a loss for words, then firmly shook her head. “Cu wouldn’t bring him back. I KNOW it wouldn’t.” She knelt down and deposited him back on the floor.

He didn’t stay there for long...he stood, retying the drooping towel around his waist. A few buttons were pushed and the flashing lights winked out. The two monitors regained their usual black screens, plunging the room into twilight. He pushed another button and spoke. “All Techbots and SWATbots in Sector D, report to the Water Refinery. Begin emergency clean-up.”

There was an affirmative response and he closed the COM-link, turning to lean back against the console.

Casssar crossed her arms. “What are you going to do now, Black Flower?”

She thought he was calm. Collected now. All the stupid fantasies flown out of his head.

But as he stared at her, his mouth twisted and he began to sob again, sliding down to his haunches. “I’ll KILL them all, Cass. I’ll KILL THEM ALL! Before they can bring him back.”

He looked up, his eyes blazing. “Next time they come. You just watch...”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I so do love a good massacre.”

                              ******

**From the mind of dementia – Snively Kintobar.**

She thinks I’m joking.

I think I could kill myself right now, just to escape the fear. Julian was always the nightmare of my existence, and the plague of my dreams. And I finally rid myself of him...but he stays with me...he’s in my skin...he’s in my damn blood. That’s how deeply he hurt me...he scarred me on the inside...and they won’t heal...and they won’t let me forget. Ever.

I thought he was gone though. I can live with scars, I suppose, as long as their maker is gone.

Princess Sally Acorn...

She’s bringing him back. She really hates me that much. I always hated her too... the way she judges with that gaze, and the way she has a control that I don’t.

I always admired her, in some twisted way too...I always even thought...she was beautiful. I fantasized about her sometimes...I wanted her too...sometimes. Ah, hate and love can coincide, you know. But now? Hate has tipped the scales.

That beauty and that courage and that DAMN heart...they’re all going to die.

Casssar thinks I’m joking.

She always underestimated me, from the beginning. Casssar likes to mother me, she likes to act like I’m her childhood self...she wants to save me because she couldn’t save herself.

I’ll save my own self.

                              *****

Two days passed by in Knothole village. They were odd days...seeming to drag at some points, and speeding along merrily in others. The leaves didn’t quit falling at their manic pace. Soon all the tree limbs would be bare.

Sally wasn’t a big fan of winter. She dreaded its coming. At least...now that she and Sonic had reconciled...she no longer need fear spending the cold nights alone. She could imagine cuddling with him in the café before the fire, like they had last year.

There was one good thing about winter, then.

Of course...they normally cuddled by the bonfire on *summer* nights. So...

Maybe there *wasn’t* one good thing about winter, then.

“I find it kind of strange...that the little molerat didn’t fight back at all,” Geoffrey was picking at his teeth as he stood on the edge of the community garden. Bunnie and Sally were knelt down on the earth, pondering how long it would be before the crops would be gone for the year.

“Please, don’t ya’ll be insultin’ molerats,” said Bunnie, her merry laugh filling the air.

“Heh.” Geoffrey snorted. “Ya gotta point there, Ms. Rabbot. But still...” He kicked roughly at a weed; the poor thing was already half-dead anyway. “It is weird, ain’t it?”

“Shore. But we are talkin’ about ole Snively here. What *ain’t* weird about ‘im?”

“It’s pure laziness,” said Sally. “I just think Snively is too lazy to retaliate. He probably figures we can’t hurt him.”

Bunnie half-heartedly pulled a few weeds. “Well, I dunno. Maybe he jest knows it’s a losin’ fight. But he ain’t about to just give in. So he jest sits there.”

“Maybe he’s plannin’ something huge,” said Geoffrey. “Givin’ us a false sense of security. Maybe he *wants* us to think he’s an idiot.”

“At any rate...” Sally stood up, brushing dirt off her knees. “We have to start planning for the next mission.”

“Is it going to be the ONE?”

Sally shrugged. “I don’t know. Should it be?”

Geoffrey gave her a sidelong look, spitting out his toothpick. “Well, we don’t intend to keep playin’ around, do we? What kind of question is that, luv?”

“I don’t know...” She sighed and adjusted her vest, staring dully off towards the meeting hall. “I guess maybe...maybe I just don’t feel like fighting anymore. Even though...it would be the last fight. You know?”

“No.” Geoffrey was frowning. “I don’t. I’m lookin’ forward to the last fight.”

Bunnie was intent – or pretending to be – on pulling weeds. “Change can be scary. Even changes fer the better.” She finally looked up, leaf-green eyes...the only hint of Springtime around... seeking out Sally. “But everythang changes.”

“Real phil-O-sophical, Ms Rabbot.” Geoffrey scoffed. “But it shouldn’t even be a matter of bein’ scared. We HAVE to take down Snively, that’s all there is to it. Why wait? The more we wait, the more time we’re givin’ him to plan out more shit.”

“Is ole Snidely even that smart?” Sonic revved into the garden, knocking Geoff’s beret off his head. “Why you guys even botherin’ with weeds? All that stuff is gonna be dead soon.”

For some reason, the statement unsettled Sally. She felt her mouth twisting.

Why bother breathing if you’ll just die? Why bother eating when someday eating won’t matter? She stared around at them, the Freedom Fighters. Why bother fighting...when the outcome is the same? Whether you win or lose...you die eventually. So you lose everything you’ve won...and everything you’ve lost doesn’t hurt anymore.

“Because it makes the garden tolerable,” She uttered in a flat voice.

Because it makes the time before you die tolerable.

‘Maybe that’s all life is.’ She stared down at the wilted plants. ‘Maybe it’s just a transition between worlds. We think it’s more than it is...more important...or more sacred...but maybe the real life begins after death.’

Geoffrey was giving her an odd look. She recognized it as that look from earlier that week. That ‘I know something you don’t’ look. Or perhaps it was more like... ‘I’m in on a secret...involving you.’ She couldn’t quite accuse him of that...it was just a look, but it still irked her. She wanted to ask him what his problem was. But he spoke. “Maybe you should talk to someone about those kind of feelings, luv.”

She gave him a hard searching look. He merely smiled and fished in his shoulder belt for a cigarette.

He was up to something. He knew *something*. But she wasn’t going to talk to him in front of the others. Later, maybe.

“You’re right,” said Sonic. “It does look nicer without the weeds.”

“Well...get pulling,” said Sally, with a half-hearted smile. Her eyes were on the smoke curling away from Geoffrey’s mouth...from his smirking lips.

‘I’ll find out what you’re hiding...’ She directed her thoughts at him, hoping he’d feel the weight, the probing drill of them.

Geoffrey turned his head her way and a puff of smoke was blown in her direction. He winked.

                              *****

*From the mind of Sonic the Hedgehog, Way confused Hedgehog of Mobius*

“Robotropolis Raid?”

“Yeah. It’s a real fun game!”

“Ok...”

Tails’ chest puffed out in pride; he aimed a finger at one of the wolf cubs, a small dark gray female. “Nadie, you can be Casssar.”

“Casssar?”

“Yeah, she’s Snively’s girlfriend. She’s totally wicked.”

“I don’t want to play someone wicked...”

“C’mon. It’ll be fun. I heard she has magic powers.”

The girl’s eyes lit up. “I have magic powers! I’m training to be a Tribe Shaman!” She kicked wistfully at the ground. “Actually...I don’t know any *real* spells yet...”

“Really?” Tails looked intrigued, forgetting his childish authority for the moment. “What kind of spells do Shamans do? Can you shoot fireballs n’ stuff?”

“Shaman are more like protectors and soul guides. And healers.” She smiled. “Shaman are wise and respected. But...” She giggled nervously. “I have a long way to go before any of that.”

“It’s still way past cool,” said Tails.

“Who am I?” piped up the other wolf.

“You can be Snively.” Tails once again obtained his chest-puffing superior air.

“Who’s Snively, anyway?” The wolf scowled. “I heard he isn’t much of a Garato at all!”

“Garato?” Tails cocked his head.

“Yeah. You know. The boss?”

“The leader,” said Nadie.

“Oh. Ok. Yeah, I guess he’s not, really.”

“Fine, though, I’ll be him. And who are you?”

Tails looked devilishly proud. “I’m Sonic!”

Dulcy blinked. “You are?” She laughed. “Better get some blue paint...”

“Yeah, whatever,” Tails scoffed and poked his friend’s scaly side. “Who you gonna be?”

“Hmmm.” The dragon looked thoughtful, and then smiled her toothy grin. “I think I’m gonna be Dulcy. Can’t get much cooler than Dulcy.”

“Ok, let’s play then!”

The children rushed off into the thick of the forest, and I could hear their whoops of laughter.

‘Who’s Snively, anyway?’ The kid had said. He was the little runt who wanted to be like Ole Uncle Robotnik.  We’d met him before Robotnik. I think our first face-to-face encounter was when I was eight years old. Me and Sally had been snooping around a factory and the runt had been patrolling that day.

I thought he was funny. He was not much bigger than us and his voice was funny. And he wasn’t like the hulking monstrosity that I remembered Robotnik to be when he first took over...and...roboticized Uncle Chuck. I thought it was funny that a guy like Snively would even be associated with Robotnik. He seemed so weak and...not evil. Not evil at all.

I felt sorry for him sometimes.

I don’t really...anymore. I don’t think. It’s hard to be sure of stuff nowdays!

The thing that’s the most weird is Sally. Man, she seems to get so pissed when it comes to Snively, now!

Before Robotnik bit the dust, Sally never seemed to pay attention to him. She even told me to stop when I was teasing him, sometimes. But now...

It’s like she’s fixated on him. Like me with a chilidog, but only not in a good way. It’s almost like...they have some connection or somethin’...somethin’ I can’t see. I want to ask her, but I know she’ll get real angry. She won’t explain it to me...Sally’s like that sometimes. When something’s really bugging her, she keeps it to herself. I guess everyone does that, even me, sometimes. Some things are like...personal, you know?

But I wish...I really wish she *would* share it with me. I mean...I could never hate Sally. Even if it was really bad. I might not get it, but I just *know* I could never hate her. Ever.

But I feel like there’s parts of her I don’t know at all. They’re as much a stranger to me as Snively is. And that really scares me.

But don’t tell anyone.

I’m supposed to be fearless, remember?

                              ****

A pungent curl of smoke lifted from King Acorn’s pipe.

Sally wrinkled her nose, but truthfully the odor was not unpleasant in the memory department. Knothole village had not just been a secret haven for the king in times of war, but a vacation spot as well. She could remember, before the Coup, trips her father had taken with her. Trips to the Floating Island, trips to Mobotroplian Bay Beach. And trips to the idyllic Knothole Village.

King Acorn’s hut was still the most lavishly decorated, with wing-backed chairs upholstered in velvet, beautiful heavy wood furniture, thick rugs covering the floors and tapestries hugging the walls...and it was the only personal hut that had its own fireplace.

She remembered, vaguely, like some spark of happiness so buried under a mountain of depression...that it seems to be a figment of imagination, mere splinters of hope. She recalled sitting before the fireplace, with attention rapt on her father, his pipe smoking, as he recounted stories of love and peace, war and darkness, and hope even amidst the corpses of a battlefield.

So long ago. When Knothole village was just a casual get-away and not a last remaining sanctuary against evil.

Her eyes must have been glazing, because her father shot her a querying look, setting the pipe aside. “Well Sally, something must be on your mind.”

“Yes.”

“Why not go to Cu Chulainne?” He lowered his voice upon speaking the entity’s name.

“Why can’t I come to you?” She said defensively, crossing her arms over her chest. She felt stung for some reason, even though she knew he wasn’t trying to be cold.

He sighed. “I never said you couldn’t, dear. You just seem to prefer its advice of late.”

She floundered a bit. “No...it’s just...”

It doesn’t judge like you.

“Oh...I don’t know...”

It doesn’t get disappointed like you...

“It’s just...” She stared down at her hands. Long slender fingers, so unmistakably feminine.

It feels comfortable.

“It sort of feels like another parent. Like a mother...”

I can talk to it like I can talk to no other.

Her father wasn’t looking at her; his mustache was drooping.

“I mean...just the way I can speak to it, like...” She trailed off.

“I know I failed you and your mother. But...” He was avoiding her gaze, his hands fiddling with the pipe. “But...I’m here now, Bean. I’m *trying* to be here now.”

“Oh daddy...” A rush of emotion made her eyes cloud and her throat tighten. “No, that’s not what I meant! I *know* you’re here. You...you were always with me. Your words, they were with me. You helped me so much more than you...” She touched his arm. “...than you know.”

He took an inhale from the pipe and blew a shaky smoke ring. “Ah, well yes. Thank you, Sally.” His tone became heartier. “Now, you had a question for me?”

“Geoffrey,” she said, after a slight pause.

“Geoffrey?”

“His behavior lately...it’s just unsettled me.”

“He hasn’t been uncouth, has he?” The King’s brows knit together in the beginnings of protective anger, but Sally shook her head.

“No. Not that sort of thing. He just is acting...like he knows something.”

“Something?” King Acorn laughed dismissively. “I imagine the man has accumulated knowledge on many ‘somethings’ in this life.”

“Daddy!” She frowned. King Acorn was puffing unconcernedly on his pipe. “No. Something *secret*. Something he’s not supposed to know.”

Her father coughed and looked flustered. She couldn’t tell if it was from the pipe smoke or her statement.

He waved a bit of the smoke away, his smile becoming languid again. Finally, with his eyes focused on his pipe, he spoke, “And why do you think that?”

“I told you...he’s acting odd. It’s the looks he’s giving me.”

“Maybe you’re just imagining it. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“It ISN’T nothing,” she said firmly, eyeing him closely. He seemed just a bit TOO casual, just a bit too unconcerned. Yeah. Geoffrey wasn’t the only one with a secret around here. “Daddy, what does he know?”

“I’m afraid I can’t read his thoughts, dear.” The King shrugged, smiling blandly. “You may have to ask him yourself.” His smile became slightly more strained. “If you really think it’s appropriate to pry...that is.”

She eyed him shrewdly, and then speaking carefully: “Why do you care if I ‘pry’ into his business? Surely it shouldn’t be any worry to *you*?”

He eyed her back, puffing again on the pipe, unconcerned.

Or rather...

‘Feigning it,’ thought the daughter fiercely. ‘I know you’re hiding something. You both are.’

He seemed to be picking his words as carefully as she had. “It doesn’t concern me, per say, but as you are my daughter, your behavior does reflect upon me somewhat.”

“Oh,” she repressed saying ‘puhleeese!’ in that sarcastic tone that sometimes drove Sonic nuts. “Since when have you worried about that?”

What a lame excuse. And he knew it. He turned away from her on the pretense of filling his pipe with more herb.

“I don’t...I wouldn’t...it’s just the discord amongst the villagers. Regarding...well...” He cast her a pointed look. “The business with Robotnik. There’s enough...” He seemed to be trying to think of a delicate way to put it, then decided, since she was Sally, she could handle it harshly. “...mistrust of you going around.”

“Well gee,” she couldn’t stop her voice from sharpening to a razor’s edge, “If we could maybe...I don’t know...tell the *truth*! That could HELP a little bit!”

“Absolutely not.” He was no longer trying to be delicate. His tone was like a guillotine, trying to sever the conversation completely.

Sally was not to be beheaded that quickly. “Why not?!” Her fears, her frustrations...begin to bubble up. “Who knows if OUR kingdom is ever going to exist again?! What does it matter if some silly ‘royal’ secret is spilled now, I wonder? We don’t even have a royalty anymore. We won’t EVER have it again.”

“Don’t be absurd,” he looked shaken, but his voice didn’t change. “We will defeat Robotnik’s childish nephew. It’s just a matter of time.”

“We might.” Her thoughts were turning black. “And then what. I can’t see things ever...I...can’t see a world of good anymore.”

“Sally,” he put his hand on her shoulder. “You mustn’t lose hope.”

It sounded so old and tired. She’d heard it in a thousand storybooks. Fairy-tale battles were never futile...no matter how far light had succumbed to darkness. Hope prevailed, always.

She’d believed those books as a child. It just made sense that good would win. It was the right thing, so therefore, it must always be triumphant! Now she saw the silliness in such *naivety*.

‘Hope is a crutch for the foolish...’ A voice whispered, dark and sinister, in a deep corner of her mind. Her father’s hand squeezed gently on her shoulder...and the voice snickered. It made her furious.

“And why not?!” She suddenly exploded, recoiling. “Why aren’t *I* allowed to lose hope! Everyone else is! What...am I better than them? That’s what it’s supposed to be...I’m supposed to be better...I’m supposed to be stronger, because I’m a Princess?”

“Now, Sally-“

“Because I’m a Princess?” She repeated, shrilly. Half of her realized she sounded childish. The other half, frustrated and afraid, didn’t care. “Well...I’m not. I’m not better...and I’m not stronger.” Her shoulders slumped, and her voice lowered, like the fire had died as suddenly as it had blazed. “I’m just a normal person....”

“But it’s our duty. Everyone has a duty.”

“I didn’t choose it,” she said, sinking into one of the plush armchairs.

“I know it’s hard,” he said. “In fairytales (she jolted, it was like he’d read her mind) it seems so simple. Every little girl wants to be a carefree princess. Only when they get older do they realize it’s not carefree or easy. Sometimes...” He paused for a breath. “Sometimes people think...the higher up you are...the easier it is...but it isn’t. It definitely isn’t.”

“You’re not just responsible for you...” She said. “I know.” She kicked sullenly at the floor. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it. Any of it. The fight. ...Life.”

King Acorn puffed on his pipe. “Everyone feels that way sometimes.”

But like this? She felt a surge of desperation so raw it almost choked her. It didn’t feel like *her* emotions. She wondered again if it was Snively’s smeared fingerprint on her soul. Was it his blackness encroaching on her? If only he knew the damage his thoughts did. He’d laugh.

‘Or maybe it’s youuuuu....’ Her mind whispered in a snake hiss. ‘Maybe you’re just *weak*. You’re a fake. You tried to convince everyone that you could hold things together, but all the bricks in your wall are falling out. They were all along.’

‘Shut up. It’s not me. It’s not me. It’s Snively. It’s his thoughts!’

‘You and Snively are a lot alike, eh? He thinks he’s something he’s not too. He tries so pathetically hard to pretend he’s worth one damn cent too!’

‘Shut up.’

He was laughing...he was laughing his fool head off at her. He was crying even, from such mirth. Her face was burning and her eyes were filling too.

“Sally? Are you all right, child?”

She snapped her head up. “What does Geoffrey know?” She said. “What is he hiding?”

“I told you-“ The King nearly dropped his pipe, startled by her sudden return to the topic. She glared daggers.

“I have no idea what the-‘

There was a loud thumping on the door. “My Liege,” a voice called outside. It sounded like one of the wolves. “They have announced dinner...and we would enjoy your presence.”

The King got up quickly and opened the door. Sally used the hem of her vest to wipe her eyes.

Diablo of the Wolf Pack stood outside, along with Lupe, and a wolf child, who peered in at Sally with that direct examining gaze that children have. It annoyed the usually tolerant Princess.

The three wolves lowered their heads briefly before the King, and then Lupe spoke. “We are looking forward to planning a take-over of the city. Your input is most desired!”

“Of course...of course,” the King said graciously. “I would love nothing more than to see our Capitol restored.”

“It could take days...weeks...years,” Lupe nodded. “But it WILL happen, my Liege.”

The charcoal-gray cub was still eyeing Sally. “It WILL happen,” she repeated, sounding not so much like an echo as a definite confirmation of Lupe’s vow. It made Sally’s heart lift, for some reason.

‘Hope may be a fool’s crutch...but it’s better to walk with a crutch than to crawl on your knees.’

                              *******

*From the psyche – troubled and remembering- of Casssar, Queen of Robotropolis.*

My Castdecass.

Cast has been odd the past few days. Whatever the Princess had said unsettled him immensely. At times he is relaxed and confident, assured in his plans of retaliation. And then he changes....becoming akin to a desperate man living his last days. This annoys me to no end.

He gets clingy, unwilling to part from my side (I must admit, to a degree, I don’t mind that!) and then again a change...

He becomes a turtle, withdrawing into his shell, brooding there in the darkness. He turns the lights down, or off, so the red glow on the console doesn’t show. He doesn’t know I am aware of that. I know how much it haunts his mind. He sits in the near-darkness, the only available light catching in his large eyes and reflecting back at me. He is not very good company when in such a state.

He is muttering now. His fingers are clacking on the keyboard in front of him; he is standing by the console typing furiously, his teeth bared. I can see an image on the monitor....it looks like troops of robots, and when Black Flower hits different keys, the troops go into different positions. It is some kind of program for coming up with robot formations, and defenses, or so Black Flower told me.

I yawn. Not very interesting...not very interesting at all. I would prefer to go out and use my magic against them. It would be extremely fun. I haven’t said anything, because Black Flower has that certain gleam in his eye, that strange air of wanting this battle all to himself.

And I understand that feeling very well...

It’s so dull though, perched here on the throne, staring at his back. He hasn’t sat down for hours. “Black Flower...” I call. “Aren’t you hungry? I am getting famished.”

“No,” he says in a distracted way.

“I am.”

“Hmr?”

“I am hungry.”

“Then get something to eat...” He bangs one hand on the console. “Dammit! That formation WON’T work-“

“Cast...come away from there for a while. Let’s go eat.”

“I’m not hungry, Casssar,” he snaps.

I aim one finger at his lean back, narrowing my eyes. Ah, does he make me quite angry at times...oh yes. I can see him now on the floor, his back arching, and his fingers curling, racked with pain...I can almost hear the crying whimpers and begs that would come from his mouth. A smile curves on my face. I can feel magic rushing to my finger, warm and tingling like blood. I can do it to him, so easy. I can make him scream...

“Please?” My voice is wistful and girlish...but my finger is SO evil, tracing an imaginary line up his spine. I can put fire in his nerves...he would feel like he was burning from the inside out...

I really shouldn’t, though. I should try not to be cruel...

“Goddammit!” He snarls again. “I am VERY busy here, Cass...so kindly take your grumbly little stomach and leave me the hell alone!”

I don’t even think. It’s a surge of raw power. Out my fingertips it comes like a bullet...but it misses him. I want to give him a chance to apologize...

The console emits a peculiar noise as the wires and computer chips inside melt from intense heat. The monitor cracks and then goes black. I smell the sickening stench of burnt electronics.

“What the-“ He stumbles away from it, wringing his hands. They are burnt from resting on the console, and he draws them to his chest. He whirls around, meeting my eyes for the first time in hours. They are wide, spangled with red veins and dark underneath. He has barely slept since the Princess’s message. “CASSSAR! What the FUCK did you do?!”

I lean back in the throne, smiling in satisfaction. “Are you hungry *now*, Black Flower?”

Oh...he’s fuming! His teeth are unsheathed and his fists clenched hard enough to whiten the knuckles. “You selfish little bitch.” He spits. “Don’t you care about my LIFE? That’s what’s at stake here!”

How absurd. He is succumbing to those ridiculous fears again. “Don’t be foolish.” I scoff.

“Go AWAY, Cass, if you’re just going to laugh!” His voice is rising steadily. “You think it’s fucking funny?! Maybe I do want to die...” And he turns and grips his coffee cup, which I am quite sure he had drained an hour earlier. “But NOT by their hands, dammit! Never! Never HIS!”

“What are you speaking of?” My voice competes to be the opposite of his. Calm and smooth as glass. It maddens him; I can see the shivers taking hold of his body. My Black Flower is a trembler. He has shoved emotions down into his skin and soul for quite a long time. His body feels the affects of that now. His body shakes when it can no longer hold such furies in.

“I TOLD you!” He clutches the cup to his chest frantically. “HE’s coming-“

“No, he is NOT!” I curl my claws into the throne’s armrest. It makes a horrible squealing sound. “He is NOT!”

“SHUT UP!” He screams. “SHUT UP! SHUT UP!”

I am too surprised to even duck. But his aim is poor due to his blinding rage and the shaking of his arm. The coffee cup comes hurtling, barely missing the top of my head. It shatters behind me on the top of the throne...my ears flatten to my skull at the noise and I feel sharp shards raining down on the back of my neck.

He is running towards the door, whether in fear, or desire to be alone, I cannot tell. I do not care! I leave the throne, I feel my feet floating above the ground, I feel my body burning like a torch. He trembles from excessive emotion – I shudder from the surges of raw power...anger in magic form...anger that I must release!

“I TIRE of this foolishness!”

He stops and glares at me, defiant. “Shut-“

I catch him up in enchantment and feed the magic into him. I see his body stiffen. He is feeling the pain...tears spring into his eyes and he lowers his head to hide it, his teeth clenched.

It makes me smile viciously, to see him shaking...to see him breaking. Ah...I can almost laugh as a whimpering sob comes from his mouth.

“Go ahead then!” He lifts his head and screams. “Hurt me! Be like all the others!”

Like all the others?

I feel my eyes widen. Pain comes to my *own* body, like my spell has turned back on me.

I see myself lined up in a row with his father and his uncle and...

Oh, but the cruelty is so easy...the cruelty is *me*.

I am lined up in a row with all of his kin. And my father is there too, smiling so sickly, his big hands reaching for me...

No. I can’t be like HIM.

The spell fades from my veins. I feel weak, wanting to double over and gasp for breath. Instead, I sink into the throne. Black Flower slips down to his knees on the cold floor and watches me through watering eyes.

“I’m going to die, Cass. You have to let me work...or they’ll kill me.”

“Why do you believe this? She hated him too, Cast. She *hated* him...she fought her whole life against him, didn’t she? Why would she bring him back, tell me this?”

“You don’t get it,” he says. He isn’t wiping his eyes, even though they are still leaking. I like him wet-faced...childish vulnerable beauty. “She hates me even more now. She’ll do *anything* to get me. She’ll bring him back...she WILL. She said so, right on the camera...she said it direct to me. She said I was going to die. She had HIS flag.”

Black Flower’s voice is flat and monotone. His eyes have gone all dead. I have seen this look. In my mother’s eyes...sometimes. Before she was totally gone. Before she...

It’s a look of hopelessness. ‘I will never get out. I will never win.’ It’s a look of accepting all this. It’s a look of submitting to pain. And yet...

And yet...there’s something in it that says you want to TRY to change. You are dead, but some pulse still beats, and it WANTS you to get up again and walk!

I don’t know if I should be glad to see that look...

Or terrified that he has sunk that far.

His eyes have shifted to the floor and his hands are crossed over his chest. He is like the last solider on the battlefield, waiting for death.

“But you forget something...” I rise, I join him on the floor. “You’re not alone this time. I will fight WITH you. For you...” I slip my fingers under his chin, lift his face to see me.

His eyes dart over my features, his brows frowning. Then a sob escapes him and he tightens his lean arms around me, burying his face into my neck. I caress his back with my hands, wondering at the structure of bone and muscle beneath the gray fabric. It feels so nice, to feel something so solid and alive.

Warm and breathing...and mine.

He pulls away, sniffling and laughing weakly. “It’s easy to forget...that you have a friend...when you haven’t had any in so long...”

“Tut.” I poke him lightly in the nose. “Not *just* a friend, Black Flower!”

“Yes yes...” He finally wipes his crystalline eyes, erasing the tears. “A lover too...”

“Most certainly,” I say very solemnly, while my hand squeezes his rear end. He chuckles, and this time it is stronger and more genuine.

“Alright,” he says, untangling himself from my grip. “Let’s uh...let’s go have that lunch now, eh Cass?”

                              *****

“We should just collect all the explosives we can and bomb every damn factory and building in sight!” Geoffrey was the first to throw out a suggestion at the meeting/dinner that evening.

“Where do we get all these explosives?” enquired Sally, arching an eyebrow. She had met Geoffrey’s eyes and words with coldness all through the dinner. Now they sat with their desserts on their plates, discussing the means in which to go about the ‘Final Mission’.

“We build ‘em up. Over a few weeks. That’s all we do, is make explosives,” said Tory, who was in high agreement with Geoffrey. “Then we collect all the people willing to go and overrun the place.”

‘An army of children, men, and women who have lived their lives in the village? Who have never been out on the warfront? Who have never even set foot in Robotropolis? Some who have never even set foot in *Mobotropolis*?’

“They may be willing, Tory, but I’m not sure if I, or,” she waved her hand around at her friends, the core Freedom Fighters, “any of the others would be willing to let them go.”

“Please,” Tory scoffed. “Geoffrey said there was no retaliation from Snively at all! The punk doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing.”

Some of the villagers muttered.

“Yes, Princess, maybe we should....just all go in. Even if it’s a little dangerous,” the man speaking sounded bemused, as if he were thinking the Freedom Fighters weren’t all that *brave* after all, “It’s worth it to take down Snively, isn’t it?”

“Look!” She clanked her fork sharply on her plate. “Just because Snively didn’t do anything that time doesn’t mean-“

“You just want all of the glory!” A voice crowed from the back and everyone swiveled their heads to look. Whoever had spoken had fallen silent and all the villagers were looking around aimlessly, so not to lay blame on the speaker.

“Who said that?” demanded Sally, standing up. Sonic was standing too, his quills raised.

“Ya’ll think that’s it?” Bunnie too had stood, her fork still clenched in her hand. “Ya’ll think we go there fer fun, to make ourselves look like heroes? Ya’ll know what? Ah would love to live in *safety*. Ah would LOVE nothin’ more than to be able to live a *real* life, a life where Ah could be happy and free! Ah could care less about stinkin’ glory!”

Sonic sat down. Geoffrey smirked at him.

“Yeah kids, listen to Ms Rabbot,” the skunk said. “We ain’t wanting no glory shit...but in order to bring Snively down, we have to fight.”

“They don’t know HOW to fight,” said Sally angrily. She cast her stormy-blue eyes to the knot of villagers in the corner. “You people have NO idea how dangerous the city is! I HATE going there! It scares me! But at least we know our way around...and we know how to deal with the robots and...”

“You could train us.” A male dog (Sally loosely remembered his name as ‘Bernard’ or something) “We don’t have to stay here like cowards. No one ever bothered to ask US if we wanted to fight, they just assumed we were yellow-bellies who just want to stay in our cozy little homes! Well some of us DON’T!”

“Fine.” Sally relented, dropping her fork. “Fine. It’s your life. I don’t want to get more people involved then necessary, but if you want to risk your lives, fine. Who am I to say you can’t? Who am I to want to *protect* what remains of my people?” She was fiercely ashamed of the wetness filling her eyes and sat down again, letting her thick hair fall over her face.

Bernard sounded slightly less volatile. “I know what you’re saying, Princess. But it is OUR lives.”

King Acorn cleared his throat. “I don’t believe that ordinary citizens should be getting involved in this. It’s all very well and good that you want to help...but you can help *here*.”

“You can help make explosives,” Tory said. “We’ll need people to do that.”

The King nodded. “I am not quite sure about Geoffrey’s direct approach to the attack, but I imagine using some explosives would be a good tactic. Sally?”

She waved a hand listlessly. “Whatever.”

Sonic put his hand on her shoulder. “Yeah, ok. I like the idea of blowing stuff up too, but that can’t be ALL we do, you know? We’re going to need a game plan for the robots too. Snively ain’t just gonna sit around while we blow up all his buildings!”

There was muttering from the knot of villagers. One of Sonic’s pointed ears perked up. He caught the end of word... a word that ended in ‘itch...’

“What did you say?” He aimed an accusing finger at them. “I HEARD that!”

“Why doesn’t the witch just use her powers?”

Everyone stared at Sally. She didn’t lift her head, but she could feel the weight of their eyes. Across the table, she caught a glimpse of one person watching. It was the girl wolf cub.

Her eyes...unlike the others...were not accusing, or questioning, or angry.

They were shining in awe and respect.

                                    ****

Casssar amused herself in the kitchen by making the plates float out of the cabinet and onto the countertop. Snively turned away from the large fridge, holding a few packages of foodstuff in his hand, one eyebrow raising at the sight. “We’ll need some glasses too,” he said.

She obliged. They clinked down on the countertop and she eyed the packages Snively was setting down. “Do you have nothing else but that weird stuff?”

“It’s just dehydrated,” said the small man, opening a page marked ‘turkey slices’. “We’ve eaten it before. You never complained.”

“Ah. What about your master? Didn’t he have a secret supply?”

“I’m not touching HIS food.” Snively grimaced. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that was Mobian meat in his stash.”

“Ugh.” She crinkled her nose. “I’ll suppose I’ll pass on that as well!”

Snively prepared the food by putting it a machine marked the ‘Hydrator.’ When it beeped, the small man opened the door. On the plate was fresh turkey slices, lettuce, cheese and bread.

“Magical,” the ermine queen said.

“Hardly.” The small man snickered, fixing sandwiches for them. He eyed the plates and glasses. “Though I’d love to know how you do *that*.”

“Oh this?” She levitated a glass over to him so he could pour their drinks. “It’s quite simple, once you know how to do it.”

“And how do you learn?”

She crinkled her nose again. “I’m not sure. It has something to do with extending your energy outward to affect the energy of another object. At first...I couldn’t bring things to me. I couldn’t move them about... I discovered the knowledge by accident. It was my first magical achievement.”

“Really?” He blinked, looking interested. “How did it come about?” He slid her glass of liquid over to her. She wasn’t sure what it was. It was some deep red drink, with a strong fruity taste and a hint of liqueur.

“My emotions were so strong that my energy could no longer be contained in me. It went out and it knocked over...” She flitted her eyes down to the liquid. Deep red...maroon. Too dark to be blood, but it reminded her of it, nevertheless. “It knocked over a table.”

A lie. She had told a lie. But it wasn’t the first ever, was it?

He seemed to know it, too. Those scrutinizing blue orbs were narrowed.

She lifted the glass to her lips and closed her eyes as if savoring the thick tainted flavor. But on the insides of her eyelids she could see a scene played out, the real truth of it, and it wasn’t a mere table that had taken the brunt of her first magical attack.

She was nearly eight years old. Before then, she had known there was something inside her, something laying dormant. Sometimes she felt tingles of it in her fingertips. But it never seemed to rise up and come out of her...not until now.

Daddy had come back to them when she was five. And when she was six, the full effects of his bathing in the tainted Source Pool had taken hold. And on it went, through six, through seven, through eight and nine years until she fled for good at age ten.

She was eight and she was living in a world of fear and pain. She did not go to school. She stayed home. Mommy stayed home. Daddy stayed home, except when he went out to hunt. He brought home wild animals, dead and bloodied. Sometimes they had teeth marks in them, like he had gotten hungry on the way home and taken bites raw.

Today, Mommy was sick. Daddy was out hunting.

“Are you alright, Mommy?” Casssar asked, helping her mother to their ratty couch. There were books and sewing scattered all about. They used to have a radio that Mommy listened to, but Daddy had broken it a while ago.

“I’m fine, dear.” Mommy’s face had healing cuts on it. It always did. But Mommy didn’t sound fine. She started to cry, waving her hand at Casssar. “Go out and play for a while, honey. Before your father comes back, go out and get some air!”

“You need air too, Mommy, come on.” The girl tugged at her mom’s hand.

“No honey, please!” Mommy suddenly jumped up and ran into the bathroom. Casssar could hear her retching into the toilet. Now she was very scared. Was Mommy sick enough to die? Casssar knew when *she* got sick enough to puke, it meant she was very sick indeed, and Mommy would fuss over her. Daddy used to too...before the Source. Now he just laughed when either of them weren’t feeling well.

He never seemed to get sick or weak.

“Mommy!” She squeaked. “Mommy, you’re sick! You need a healer!”

Mommy started to sob, her head on the edge of the toilet. “No, honey...I’m not sick...”

“What is it?” Casssar stood there, stiff and terrified. Her Mommy looked so sad, sadder than she had EVER looked. It nearly made Casssar want to die.

“I...I have a baby inside me,” her Mommy whispered.

“A baby?” Casssar felt tears in her eyes. She knew people were supposed to be happy about babies. But what would Daddy do to a baby? She didn’t want to imagine it. She didn’t WANT a baby to be born into this house. It would be utterly *cruel*. “Oh Mommy...” She moaned and sank down next to her mother’s white-furred body. “Mommy...what are you going to do?”

“Nothing,” the older woman said grimly, drawing the child to her. “It won’t be born.”

“How can you stop it?”

Her mommy’s face crinkled up like used tissue. “It isn’t the first one, honey. When your daddy hits me...” She put her hand in her daughter’s hair. “It kills the baby.”

The girl’s eyes went wide. She tried to hug her mother, but the older woman shooed her away. Casssar went outside and played with rocks, throwing them viciously against the trees. She imagined Daddy’s face on the bark.

She felt incredible rage growing inside. She wanted to kill him. She wanted to rip his face off. She didn’t care if he had been good before...it didn’t matter. She wanted to hear him scream.

                              **

“Cass?” Snively was staring at her.

She shook her head, raising her eyes from the deep crimson of the glass and to his face, those pale ice-blue eyes. “It wasn’t really a table,” she said, lip curling.

“I figured as much.” He pushed her plate towards her. She bit into the sandwich viciously. “It was your father, wasn’t it?”

She smiled, lifting her eyes to the ceiling in a coy gesture. “It was *supposed* to be. But my aim wasn’t very good back then.” She laughed without mirth. “I wasn’t really aware of what I was doing.”

                              **

The thing that had laid dormant inside her was starting to rise. She could feel it. She stumbled back against the tree, her head back, staring up at the orange and blue sky, panting. It felt like blood from deep within her was spreading to the surface veins of her body, and this blood contained an intoxicating feeling of...of POWER. Power and energy!

She let out a ragged cry, not sure whether she was elated or alarmed by this... She turned her eyes on the rocks and the trees, the thought of daddy in her mind...the thought of Mommy’s baby becoming nothing but bloody paste to ooze out onto the floor... She thought of it because it seemed to fuel the feeling inside. It was rising...like heat rose from a head that wasn’t wearing a hat...that’s why Mommy told her to wear her hat in the winter...

But she wanted it to escape. Her breath came in harder, and she felt herself shaking, like she was cold...but she wasn’t... her skin was crawling...and her fingers were tingling so bad, almost painfully, like they had been frozen and were now thawing.

And then it escaped. She knew it had, because she felt suddenly weak and lightheaded, and around her, the rocks went flying in all directions! She stared at the ground in awe, trying to catch her breath.

She went in to tell her mother about this odd new thing.

There was the horrible sound of whimpering and begging. “No...Ca’don...please.”

Daddy was home! Her eyes narrowed and her breath hissed in rage. She didn’t know what had come over her...this sudden anger...it was so violent that it overshadowed the fear. She ran into the kitchen to find Mommy backed away against the table and Daddy standing in front of her with his powerful arm drawn back. “You stupid whore. Think I care if you’re sick? You stupid bitch.”

There was a bundle of dead rabbits and squirrels laying on the table, but Daddy knocked them off and tried to force Mommy to lay down there, so he could do the very bad thing to her. Casssar saw Mommy’s stomach slam very hard into the table’s edge as she struggled weakly. A moaning cry came from her mouth.

“NO!” She cried and Daddy snapped his head up and stared up at her.

“Oh, so the little whore has come in at last! You’ll have to wait your turn *sweetie*.” He started to laugh in that sickening way that normally made Cass shiver. But today...it made the feeling rise up...

                              **

“It came out...but it didn’t hit Daddy like I wanted, “ the ermine mused, swirling the liqueur in her glass. Snively was still eyeing her, silently. He hadn’t touched his sandwich yet. “It knocked over Mommy instead. She fell onto the table and bit her tongue hard. I remember the blood coming from her mouth...because her fur was so white...it showed up so vividly. Daddy thought it was hilarious. He thought she’d tripped.”

Mommy had hit her stomach again on the table. So hard a blow that no unborn baby could survive. Casssar sometimes wondered later, if indeed she had been trying to hit Daddy...or if her rage had turned into sympathy and that great pity had killed the fetus in order to prevent it from suffering in life. She wondered about that, many times, until finally she buried the thought under uncaring rocks. It didn’t matter anymore. But now it was unburied, and she wasn’t sure what to do with it.

She took a sip from the glass. “After that...I didn’t try to hit Daddy anymore. I tried to ignore the power...but it wouldn’t go away. Eventually, I started practicing around the house and outside when he wasn’t around.” She grinned over at Snively, her lips smeared with the liqueur. “I got quite good. As you can see...”

“I see...” He said, very quietly, finally taking a nibble of sandwich.

“I was hoping maybe one day...I could kill things with my mind. Then I could kill him. But after Mommy shot herself the power went away for a while. It didn’t come back until after I ran away. I think...I think it’s because after she died...I died too.”

He swallowed very hard, setting the sandwich down. “Yes...” his voice had dropped to a whisper. “I know...I know what you mean by that, Cass.”

                                    ****

“Well...that went nowhere...”

“Tell me about it.” Sonic was gazing into his reflection in a round hand mirror. Sally was leaning out the window of her hut, gazing at the treetops and the black sky. She couldn’t see any stars. A thin veil of clouds, nearly as dark as the sky, was blocking them out...or maybe they just weren’t there anymore.

“I’m so mad. Daddy shouldn’t have agreed to let those villagers come!”

“Yup. They’ll just get in the way. Slow us down...” The hedgehog grinned into the mirror, tilting his head this way and that. Admiring his teeth or the spike of his quills.

“More than that, Sonic...they’ll get hurt! They think the city is some playground or something!”

“They’re right about that.”

“SONIC!” Sally turned her head to glare at him; he flinched and grinned sheepishly in the mirror.

“When you’re a mondo speedy hedgehog, it is!”

“Well, they’re not.” She returned to the futile star-gazing. “They don’t know anything about that place. And if they get killed or hurt...you know it’s going to end up being our faults, somehow.”

“Eh...” Sonic finally set down the mirror. “They won’t. Needlenose is nothing like Robotnik.”

“No.” Sally stared hard at the clouds, desperate to seek out one pinpoint of light. Stars were symbols of hope. Why? Because they were always there? They were cold. They didn’t care anything for the fates of mortals on tiny planets. They were just burning balls of gas. “Snively isn’t. Robotnik liked robots. But Snively...he just wants us out of his way. He doesn’t care about roboticizing.”

“You’re saying he’d rather just kill everyone?” Sonic scratched his brow. “I don’t know if he’s *that* bad, Sal-“

“Look what he did to his own Uncle!...” She faltered, falling silent.

“But Sal, you-“ Sonic didn’t finish the statement. There was a long awkward silence.

“So...we’ve got the explosives...and the villagers...” Sally said, finally. “We’ll have the Wolf Pack. But we need a PLAN.”

“Run in and bust stuff up.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so.”

“Seriously Sal,” Sonic actually sounded serious, which alone made Sally glance over. “How much do you think ole Noseboy is going to throw at us?”

“Who knows. Judging from what happened during the water refinery attack, it doesn’t look like much. But-“ She held up a finger as Sonic opened his mouth. “Like I said at dinner, that doesn’t mean he won’t this time. Who knows what’s going on in his mind?”

“We’ll give it another try tomorrow. Come up with a plan among *ourselves*.” Sonic spoke with slight disdain; he clearly did not think the villagers up to the task of Freedom Fighting. Neither did Sally. For once she could agree with his scorn.

“Yes. A plan not only for us to win...but to protect *them* too.”

                              ****

Dear Journal...

We will go in with explosives and the slinking of quiet shadows upon the ground. We will go in with the Foolish, the Brave, the Weak and the Doubtful. Some people will embody all of these. Some people will embody only what they can fit into their souls. I suppose that’s arrogant. To assume my feelings are more complex than the feelings of a village gardener.

Has my royal status corrupted me that much?

My clone, those few years ago, said that ‘In the Great Forest, titles are meaningless.’  I don’t know if Robotnik programmed her to say that to mock me...or if it really is true. Or is it false? Does my title influence my decisions? Does it make me believe my concerns for Mobian Life are more crucial than the concerns of any other folk?

This hurts my heart and head, Journal. Sometimes...

Sometimes the darkest blackest part of my heart wishes for release from all this.

I wonder if HE thinks that too. He wove his own torturous life! Damn it! I should NEVER NEVER feel pity for him! It’s just...his mind is still *on* me. He DOESN’T think the thought of dying is wrong. He doesn’t think escaping is crazy. But he doesn’t want to, you know. He wants to live, to spite us all. Maybe that’s the only reason behind it all. He lives only to kill the ones he believes made him feel that way. He lives to kill the ones who made him want to die. Bringing death because he wants death, and yet he hates the idea that he wants death, so he must LIVE to punish those who brought about that feeling. What a cycle! What a horrible gray tunnel that must be. I wonder if there’s a light at the end of it.

Sally took her pen and began to scribble the last passage out. She used heavy angry strokes, carving the impression into the pages below.

“I *won’t* feel pity for him!” She hissed fiercely, tears starting to burn in her eyes...and she didn’t know why. Finally, she threw the book down and knocked her candle onto the floor, curling her body on the straight-backed chair, her arms about her knees and her head tucked down...

She found herself sobbing, sobbing as if she’d witnessed the death of all things loved in the world. Sobbing as if she’d lost her reasons for living. Sobbing because...

‘Living is overrated.’ Snively said...

He’d said it one time, she couldn’t recall when...but she knew he’d said it. It haunted her. Where had she heard it?

It was like a dream...for when had she spoken candidly with Snively, especially about matters of life and death? She could see him though, there was light haloed strangely around his head, and his eyes were glinting, filled with light even as he spoke of darkness. And he was so tall...

‘Something he said to me, perhaps, when I was first enchanted by Cu Chulainne. Cu made me fall in love with him. I’m glad I don’t remember that. VERY glad!’

It gnawed so badly that she couldn’t stand the teasing little thought, chewing on her memory like a hungry rat. She got up from the chair and left. In the midnight darkness she crept to the cave.

Halfway there, she smelled cigarette smoke. Geoffrey was lounging outside his hut. He didn’t see her. She wondered if he could feel her....if he knew her intentions. She saw no one by the pool’s edge or in the gloom of the forest. An owl call made her fur prickle. She left the bird behind as the cave door slid closed behind her and she was bathed in the soothing light of the Source and its protector.

“Cu,” she said to the entity, “You can take away memories...so can you uncover them too?”

The entity glowed softly. -I can.-

“Then uncover this,” said she, and she told Cu the mysterious snippet of memory. She felt the warmth of the entity connected to her, the strange lazy shifting in her mind, like pages of her memory were being turned...but oh so gently.

-I have found it.-

Sally felt like there was a pause in the pages’ turning. If she could imagine the book of her life, she thought the page had stopped quite close to the beginning.

-Shall I tell you of the memory or would you like to see it?-

“I want to relive it,” said Sally. “I want to see it.”

-As you wish.-

Sally was glad that Cu was neutral. Her own mind was judging her quite harshly. ‘Do you just want to see him again-‘

She blocked it out. She forgot it as she fell into memory. It played out as vividly as if she were seeing it in real-time.

A little girl was walking along the corridors of her father’s palace. She was not skipping. Her mentor, who had fallen ill, had told her proper ladies don’t skip. Sally thought maybe she would skip, since Julayla couldn’t see her. ‘For I am NOT a lady yet! If I was, then I would not be treated like a child! So, if I am a child, then I can skip if I want to!’

Sally was an articulate and clever child, at her full five years of age. But she didn’t know her world poised on the edge of disaster. She would know this, in a few months time, when her father’s trusted Warlord Julian would betray. But for now, she was content in a day off from Julayla’s prattling and lessons.

She paused to decide what to do with her free time. Go see Sonic? He was still in his studies with Sir Charles. Likewise for Bunnie and the others.

She decided to go to the garden, at least for a while.

So she went. The lush green grass and beds of flowers usually attracted the attention of many castle folk. But she didn’t see anyone here today, save for the gardener trimming the hedges. It was probably because it was so early in the day. She usually wasn’t in the garden until much later.

There was one other person, she found, a while later, after strolling down the sunny paths, enjoying the scents (not enjoying the bees). He was standing between two slim trees. His back was to her; he was gazing out at the city below the palace’s hillside residence. His hands were above his head, holding and tangled within a mess of vines that hung between the two trees.

“Hello,” she said, and there was no response, so she made her way around, halting in front of the silent boy.

She hadn’t been able to see his hands clearly, or their strange lack of fur. It was the Overlander boy who was apprenticed to the large Overlander Warlord, Julian. Sally wasn’t sure what to think of either of them, besides the usual ‘What strange creatures! Why don’t they have fur? Can we trust them? Daddy, can we? Why are they so different from us?’

Her father had said: ‘Sally...I know you have heard rumors of all Overlanders being vicious cruel creatures, but it is not so. We cannot prejudice against others because they are different from us. We can only judge a creature by its own actions, not the actions of its kind.’

That made sense. So she tried to see them both with eyes not tainted by the stories she’d heard of *other* Overlanders. Still...she could not help but dislike Warlord Julian. She didn’t trust his eyes or his smile. The boy...she still wasn’t sure. But there was something unsettling about him, too.

Right now, he was ignoring her, his eyes still focused on the city below. His expression was an odd sort of mulling...and yet...apathetic. Like he didn’t really care about the dilemma he was brooding on.

“What are you doing?” she asked. She normally wasn’t an overly intrusive child, but she was curious. She was especially interested in learning more about Overlanders.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he replied, without taking his eyes off the city view.

“Thinking.”

“Yes.”

“Thinking about what?” she said boldly.

“You’re a nosy little girl, aren’t you?” For the first time, he titled his head down to meet her gaze.

He had an odd face. It wasn’t creepy like Julian’s. But still rather odd. She couldn’t decide if it was odd in a pleasing way, like some of the exotic strange flowers in the greenhouse, or whether it was just plain ugly. His skin was very white and clear, his hair was a messy mop of gold and mahogany and oak strands that fell onto his forehead and brushed his cheeks. He had a nose like a pointed bird’s beak.