Mercy

Jacob missed the last three steps, tumbling in a heap of fear when an animal rumbled several feet away. He raised his hand in paltry defense, trying to form a coherent thought. Big and Rhino were the only plausible syllables that strung together as he stared at the creature blocking the doorway. Aw, no way that thing could fit inside a suitcase.

"Magic!" Jacob whispered hoarsely. "It's all magic."

And magic was about to get him killed. He dragged himself up, never taking his eyes off the beast, and braced himself against a cluttered workbench. Thank heavens the creature wasn't trying to break into the shack. Of course, it might only be a matter of time before –

Something yanked on Jacob's trouser leg and he shrieked. Jolting away, he grabbed the first weapon at hand – a stack of papers smeared with unfinished sketches – and searched for the invisible stalker.

Silver fur materialized first, accompanying a pair of pan-sized blue eyes. Jacob stared at it, feeling less astonished than he should. So there was a monkey at the bank.

"Ea – Easy fella," he stammered, setting the papers down and scrabbling for anything distinctively shield-like. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

His voice squeaked humiliatingly. Why'd he come down here without the Brit? No one would even think to search for his body in here! Although he'd heard of some pretty nasty lairs where criminals stored body parts….

"Please don't eat me," Jacob said feebly.

The silver monkey blinked, sky-blue orbs transitioning into a golden hue. Slinking forward, it reached out with an expression that Jacob could only relate to his great aunt tucking a sweet into his hand when he squirmed during chapel, and tugged his trouser leg again.

"Wha – What do you want?" Jacob asked.

The creature tilted its head considerately and then hopped to the wall, reaching up for a bucket of raw pink glop. It looked at Jacob solemnly, held up the bucket, and shuffled towards the door.

"You … you want me to go out there?" Jacob translated. "Heh! Now I'm talking to monkeys. Don't you think it's safer… you know… inside?"

Insistently the silver monkey jiggled the bucket.

You asked for this, Jacob told himself. You said you'd be responsible for Claude's monsters.

Grimacing, he detached himself from the workbench and accepted the bucket. The monkey waved persistently and the rhino backed away, giving Jacob room to squeeze past. He swallowed, eyeing the crushing, heavy feet and the horn that was nearly as long as he was tall.

"Okay. Where exactly are we going?" he asked the monkey. It took his hand, leading him past the rhino and further away from the shack.

Jacob staggered, minding everything but where he put his feet, trying to imagine how anyone could have fit a grassy meadow into a suitcase, let alone an entire hemisphere. There was blue sky, darkened hills, better grass than he'd seen in Central Park, carpets of exotic flowers, desert pillars, mossy crags, floating water of all things, and all throughout the territories, beasts with horns, tentacles, fur, pincers, scales, spikes, beaks, feathers, and more bizzare attributes than Jacob had seen in the zoo. He moved slowly, dragging his feet, holding the bucket close when the earth pounded and a squid-headed, hungry looking mammoth galloped towards him.

"Uh… is this thing safe?" Jacob looked for the monkey and gabbled mutely when it waved and disappeared. "Wait – what am I – oh, no….."

He cringed, waiting for the awful crunch, and shuddered when something slithered around his hands. Daring to peek, coughing at the stench of something wild and very cattle-like, he coughed a relieved laugh and upended the bucket. Chunks of meat slithered onto the ground. The beast raised its head momentarily, flicked a tentacle across Jacob's cheek, and shifted back to make room for a smaller member of its species.

"I guess I'm… feeding the animals," Jacob said. He breathed out slowly and shook the tension out of his shoulders. "Okay. I can do this. Uh… hey! Monkey! What am I supposed to do now?"

His guide reappeared, this time offering a bucket of glowing pink worms that vaguely resembled shrimp. Bubble-encased alien fish were fed next. A sack of cockroaches was upended over a nest of arm-length blue snakes. (Jacob was glad to note that not one of them was a twelve-foot serpent, and he wondered if that particular one had shrunk to accommodate the rest of its family.) Three giant raccoons – furry tail and all – were tossed from a distance to a porcupine-quilled lion. Jacob thought it was kind of morbid, feeding creatures to creatures, but then again every animal had to eat, and he wasn't against roasting a good duck when he could afford it.

A herd of long-necked sheep dined on floating pebbles, which the silver monkey tended to personally. Jacob thought that was kinda unfair, since that left him to the eagle-headed lion that flayed whole sheep like a professional butcher.

There was yellow moss and pill bugs for the walking-sticks (Jacob pocketed some for the critter upstairs), shellfish for the glowing squid, eight ferrets for the eagle-headed horse (and Jacob swore the silver monkey was laughing when the creature almost mistook his shoe for a forgotten weasel), mulch for the trees where flaming butterflies took roost, and a tin of grey matter for a cocoon-like nightmare that unfurled into a screaming, blue-winged, miniature dragon.

Jacob wished he knew all their names.

He paused some distance past the scowling, four-winged hawk that the monkey wouldn't let him approach. Tilting his head into the breeze, he caught a sharp and icy tinge, like a winter draft slithering through a cracked windowpane.

One of the habitat frames fluttered.

Edging forward, Jacob brushed a hand against the fabric, pulling it back just far enough to step inside. Snow crunched under his shoes, nipping his ankles and plunging him into a sense of cold, alone, alone, angry, alone, fear, pain, hurt, angry, alone, alone, alone, alone, alone….

He saw coils of black ink stretch against a barrier of soundless isolation, prodding the edges, lashing out against a cage. Mourning leaked from it, tethering around him, drawing him to the bubble of despondency that trapped something amidst all the other contented beasts.

"Hey," Jacob whispered. "What'd they pen you up for?" He reached out, about to brush the barrier with his fingers, when a silver hand snatched his arm back. Blue eyes glowed as the monkey shook its head.

"What's it doing here?" Jacob asked. "Ain't we supposed to feed it?"

Again the monkey shook its head, pulling him away. For the first time it looked scared of one of its fellow creatures. Shivering, Jacob followed the monkey into waning sunlight, hugging his arms as the chill and emptiness followed him. The baby tentacle-faced creature nudged his leg, yipped, and scurried back to its parents like a thrill-seeking teenager.

Pausing beside a coin-lined grotto, the silver monkey dipped its head and motioned for Jacob to pause. It held out a bowl, pointing to something that looked like a thick biscuit soaked in cream, and laid it in the doorway, shoulders drawing close like a fretful hen.

"Something's missing?" Jacob wondered. "Lemme guess; small, black, duck-billed, tends to pick people's pockets?"

The monkey laid a hand on his knee, and Jacob twitched a smile he didn't feel inside. "I'm sure he'll show up."

Golden eyes rounded into blue, and the monkey beckoned him towards the shack. Sunny grottos were flaring orange with sunset as they slipped inside. Jacob dragged a hand through his hair.

"How does the Brit feed all these animals day after day?" he wondered. "Where does he get the money?" Maybe wizards could create food as needed. Or maybe that's why Claude looked half-starved; wearing himself out tending a bunch of carnivorous critters and forgetting that real people occasionally sat down for breakfast.

The silver monkey regarded him hopefully, as though sensing he was something of a friend, and hopped onto the workbench. It pawed through the drawers, carefully discarding one vial after another, and finally selected a brown bottle with a cork stopper. Hesitantly Jacob took the offered phial.

"Skele-Grow? What is that?"

Blue was swept away with gold and the monkey nodded, pointing to the staircase. Jacob inspected the vial again.

"Am I supposed to give this to him? What's the dosage?"

The monkey continued to jab at the suitcase entrance. Flapping his hands exasperatedly, Jacob sighed. "Okay, fine. Don't know why I'm doing this. Talking to a monkey….."

He tucked the vial into his pocket and ascended the ladder, listening to the contented lows of animals falling asleep. So the monkey must be some sort of matron for them all, taking care of them when Claude was away. Must've been a tough job for one critter. No wonder it had been so eager for Jacob's help.

Pushing up the suitcase lid, Jacob squeezed out and carefully locked the case behind him. The room was dark and rank with sick and urine. He moaned, already knowing what he would find.

"Can't leave you alone for five minutes," Jacob chastened as he knelt to cup a hand over the Brit's forehead. The fever was back, wracking chilled, bruised limbs despite the robe that Jacob had surrendered for a semblance of covering. Claude had managed to haul himself halfway across the room before illness wiped him of strength and he'd lain shivering for who knows how long. Given the dried tracks on his cheeks, it'd probably been hours.

"Sorry," Jacob said feebly as he stripped the bed and laid out fresh sheets. "I didn't think it'd take that long."

Bill was right – he'd make a terrible nurse. Nothing else to be done, though. He'd clean the Brit off and maybe get him to eat something. That in itself would be more than Bill had managed in the last two days. A body couldn't heal without food.

After laying a bowl of water and a clean cloth on the bedside table, Jacob crouched and gently shook Claude's shoulder.

"Hey. Hey, c'mon. I'm gonna get you cleaned up. You gotta eat something, then you can rest, all right?"

A blurred murmur, and the slit of green focused. Jacob's smile felt less forced. "Come on. It's been a long day, and you need sleep more than I do."

Mumbling past chipmunk-swollen cheeks, Claude reached for the suitcase. This time Jacob dragged it closer, resting the wizard's hand on scuffed leather.

"It's all right. I fed'em, okay? They're all here."

Wonder claimed the verges of fright in that filmy hazel thread.

Jacob nodded encouragingly. "It's not running away. I'll take care of 'em. Just promise you'll stay put and try to heal? Bill's gonna hate it if he has to reset a bone tomorrow morning."

Caution sluiced into belief in one slow blink. For the first time Claude relaxed, shutting down his only source of communication.

Gingerly Jacob lifted him. Something squirmed and he jumped, surprised to disturb a wriggling clump of black fur. Irritably a certain black critter squirmed out from under Claude's elbow.

"So that's where the lil' guy went," Jacob mused.

Beady eyes watched him, stunned, before the mole snarled and lunged for the bed, slipping underneath the frame with a furious chatter. Jacob didn't bother pursuing. Returning Claude to the bed, he retrieved the suitcase and set it by the nightstand.

"Okay," Jacob said, easing away. "Stay awake for a sec', you got that? I'm gonna get something for you to eat. And you gotta eat, you hear me? Doesn't have to be much, just…."

He didn't waste time with more words. Running to the kitchen, Jacob snatched a jar of beef jelly that Bill had left in the icebox and slopped a wooden spoonful into a pan, diluting it to a thin broth before setting it on the burner. He let it warm, finishing the unpleasant task of cleaning the mess in the bedroom, glad that Claude had momentarily slipped under again. There had to be a way to feed the creatures and make sure that Claude wasn't left alone again. Someone in New York had to be trustworthy enough to babysit a nincompoop wizard while Jacob….

Huffing, Jacob wondered why he didn't think of it before. "Bill," he muttered. "Of course. Ol' Bill. Boy, is he gonna be in for a surprise….."