I hurried to keep pace with Hornroot's long strides, knowing he was all too happy to tug on the leash if I fell too far behind.

The sights and smells of the city were near overpowering. So many colorful people in colorful clothing. Smells of food and perfume mixed with drugs and sewage. It was all I could do to keep from puking. If this was some twisted way to get me to appreciate what I had in the Lady's home, it was working.

"Your job is a simple but vital one, Flametail," Hornroot said. His voice was a rare welcome in the midst of all the foreign sights and smells. "If she is wise, Son should be accompanied by her familiar. While I am speaking with her, you are to speak with him. Learn from him what you can of his Master's position with the Community."

Stallion. I still couldn't believe I was but moments away from seeing him again. When you thought you wouldn't ever see a familiar face again, a week felt like an eternity.

But I had to keep acting like I was interested in this 'mission' or old Horny might get suspicious. "How much do you expect me to get out of him? Familiars are loyal to their Master. If she told him to not talk, there isn't much I can do."

As I said those words, I realized just how real that possibility might exist. Though I didn't care if I could learn more about 'his Master's stance' or whatever. For all I knew, Stallion was no longer the Stallion I once knew. After having his memory of the events in the Quincy cabin erased, he knew the least about how bad witches (and familiars) could get. He had a watered down version of what happened.

He thought we familiars brought down the witch, Minerva. He believed Mallard was a hero who sacrificed his life to protect us. In a way, he was better off without the memories of what really happened.

But I knew—not for certain, but somewhere deep inside me—that not having those memories just made it easier for his Master to get insidde his head. To make him believe that serving her was the right thing to do.

"Yes, I agree that is a possibility. But one we have to risk," Hornroot replied, causing me to have to quickly recall what it was we were talking about in the first place. "In a worst case scenario, and your intentions are revealed, we simply explain your previous feral nature. After what occurred during the Exchange Ceremony, I am sure Son will understand your defective behavior."

They had a freaking name for it? "Great. What could go wrong?"

Hornroot glanced back at me with one fiery yellow eye. "Your sarcasm is unnecessary."

"Sarcasm? Whatever are you talking about? This is just my natural tone of voice whenever I talk to you." I returned, attempting to smile. I knew it would only serve to bare my sharp teeth at him.

The old familiar locked gazes with me for a moment more before something caught his eyes and he turned his attention away. "I would shelve your glibness. We are approaching the targets now."

I used this revelation to get my first good look at our surroundings. As Hornroot explained it, this was an outdoor food courtyard. I sort of recognized the set up of numerous little tables with food stands on the outskirts from the humble one we had in the mall Mutt, Stallion, and I visited way back when. But that was where the similarities ended.

This courtyard was grand in every sense of the word. From what Horny described, there were hundreds of these small four seater tables that I could at most see five or six of at a time at my height. Even at Hornroot's height, I doubted I'd be able to see much with all the large umbrellas over each table and with how simply crowded the place was. If I wasn't struggling to keep pace with Horny, I was dodging in every direction to keep from people stepping right on top of me.

Though I could not see it, there was supposed to be some imposing monument/fountain thing of this city's founder who was apparently a food connoisseur. This overly elaborate and decorative food court was some sort of homage to him.

Wait, why was I even thinking about all this? It's not like I cared. I had purposefully tried to purge the useless information from my delicate memory when Horny verbally dumped it on me.

"There they are."

From this distance, even at my shortened height, I could see the two figures sitting alone at a table—seemingly saying nothing to one another. They made quite an odd pair. A dark and intense looking woman with a shaved head who was slouched in her seat, giving everyone who walked too close a very convincing stink eye. And an equally dark, but much less intense, man who sat close beside her.

Stallion sat straight in his chair, eyes and face forward like he was on alert for anything. But, even from this distance, I could see just how empty he was.

Oh, right. I had been trying to distract myself from the looming possibility of running into a Stallion that might no longer even know who I am.

"Keep a constant vigilance. And remember; do not engage the familiar until I give you the signal."

"Right, yeah, sure."

"Flametail..."

"I got it, alright? Now shut-it. I need to concentrate."

Hornroot grunted, but said nothing further. He did choose that moment to tug on my leash a little harder, and I found myself nearly propelled towards the witch and her familiar.

Son's expression did not change when Hornroot and I approached her table. In fact, if it were possible, her look grew even more sinister when her dark eyes fell on the Lady's familiar. She opened her mouth and said one or two words that I did not understand, but by their tone, and how Hornroot's shoulders visibly tensed, I could only assume they were none too pleasant.

I lost sight of her and the stoic Stallion as we drew closer, the table now obstructing my view. Hornroot said a few words himself and waved a casual hand down to me. I found myself tensing when Son's scary face peered over the side of the table.

If looks could kill. The glare she was giving me could easily rival Kat's, if not surpass it in its ability to make me wish I was anywhere else in the world.

Feeling it might better serve our intentions—and being unable to do anything else—I shifted my gaze to the ground. A faint glimmer of resistance bubbled to the surface as I continued to feel her intense gaze on the nape of my neck, but I buried it down.

Now wasn't the time to get angry. This was different than with Mallard.

He had been pressured to keep me alive (at least until he could enact his plan). If Son really wanted to, she could kill me and maybe receive a slap on the hand if her excuse was believable enough. Hornroot had made it clear to me that she was just as vital to the Community as his Lady or the wealthy Madame were.

I didn't chance to glance back up until I felt the weight of her gaze leave me. When it did, I saw a chair had been pulled slightly away from the table. Hornroot was already seated in his.

"You've been allowed to sit on the table," Hornroot's voice said in a quickened pace inside my head. "Wait for my signal, and do not squander this opportunity."

I didn't bother to respond. Without wasting time, I hopped onto the chair and then to the tabletop—a surprising feat considering I haven't done any hopping in...well, ever.

I did not have much time to reflect on it. As soon as I was situated on the table, I came face to face with Son and Stallion. The former was giving me a glare that could shatter stone while the latter remained gazing off in the distance.

At first, it reminded me of the Stallion that used to stare out yonder whenever the Tea Drinkers were gathered. But his eyes did not have the old wanderlust. They were dark, and vacant.

"Lie down and avert your gaze. Son approved of your earlier submissive display," came the quick order from old Horny.

Thankfully, I did not reflexively lock gazes with Son before I laid down across the table. For added measure, I curled myself into a ball, making sure my face was blocked from Son's view while being able to keep an eye on both Stallion and Hornroot.

"Good." Was all Hornroot said before his lips began moving, engaging in a conversation with Son that I couldn't hope to understand.

Not that I cared. Whatever the mission was about, my number one goal now was to get Stallion in on the plan—if not get him to notice me.

With this in mind, I kept my eyes intent on Stallion. I stared straight at him, hoping beyond hope he would do the work for me and look my way.

He did not.

"Sta—"

I stopped my thought and glanced at Hornroot. He remained intent on listening to whatever it was that Son was saying, but could he hear me? Was there even a way to speak to Stallion without old Horny overhearing me?

There had to be, otherwise Hornroot would have been more discreet about us 'talking' so close to Stallion. He knew how to choose who could hear his words and, more than likely, kept that secret from me so he could listen in on my conversation with Stallion.

Bastard. Could he even listen in on our conversation while speaking with Son? Probably could, being the thorn in my side that he was. Bastard.

Screw it. I'll play along for now and see where it goes from there.

I went back to staring straight at Stallion who was still gazing off blankly in the distance. "Stallion."

Nothing. Not even a blink. Was he even conscious?

Bearing the strange feeling, I slapped my tail against the table a few times. The bushy thing still felt like an unneeded, foreign appendage that usually had a mind of its own. I risked landing it close to his arm, attempting to use the hairs to tickle him back to reality.

"Hey, I know you can hear me."

Of course that was a lie. It took me a week to figure out how to talk to a familiar who has been in the business for over thirty years. Maybe Stallion and I haven't 'linked' or whatever yet to allow us to communicate with our minds.

Shit. This was getting stupider by the second.

"Hey, asshole! I'm thinking at you!"

Hornroot's hand closest to me twitched, but at the same instant Stallion blinked. Blinked. No way was that a coincidence.

"I saw that. I know you heard me you great big jackass!"

Stallion blinked again, and then shifted his dark gaze to me. It was so sudden I almost lost my momentum. Almost. "Yeah, that's right. I called you a donkey. What're you gonna do about it?"

"What the hell is your problem, man?"

I lost my momentum. It was a voice. Not old Horny's gruff, grizzled, with-a-hint-of-judgement voice, but something softer and all together more welcoming—despite the harsh note of disgust.

Before I completely drowned in sentimentality, I reined my emotions in. If I screwed this up, Hornroot would discover the truth about our recovered memories. Then I could forget about ever seeing any of my friends ever again.

"So, you can talk. And here I thought Son just commissioned a statue in the likeness of her familiar to confuse her enemies."

Stallion's look of contempt did not fade at my poor attempt at another jibe. "'Fraid I'm the real deal, Flametail."

It was subtle, but I could practically feel the tension coming from the wizened familiar that sat beside me. He still appeared at ease, still seemed heavily invested in his conversation with Son, but I knew he was ready to act at a second's notice. I had never seen him fight, but pure instinct was telling me that he was easily the strongest one sitting at this table.

I tried to work with this new reveal. "Just so you know, Hornroot only let you listen in because he knows we have the advantage here. I think you know that too, seeing as you haven't yet told your Master our intentions."

"I appreciate the heads up." Stallion laughed through his nose as a slight grin played off his mouth.

I was, admittedly, a little put off. I had never seen Stallion act like this. Confident, cocksure, menacing. His acting was leagues better than mine...if he was really acting at all.

Shit.

"But I'm not sayin' anything to Son because it was funny watching you guys swagger around like you're in control." Stallion sat back, lost his smile, and folded his arms. When his eyes fell back on me, I saw the very subtle change in his expression. I wouldn't have noticed it if I hadn't seen it several times before.

It was the look telling me to run.

"You both were dead the moment you came here."

Hornroot was in the middle of shooting up from his chair. His gruff voice shouted in my head, "Get off the table!"

And the next thing I knew I was flying through the air as the table was thrown out from under me. After a rather hard and painful bounce off the cobblestone ground, I managed to land on my feet by some miracle.

It did not do me much good besides having the advantage of watching Hornroot become surrounded by half a dozen men and women carrying a random assortment of metal pipes, baseball bats, and other deadly looking two by fours.

Stallion was standing nearby, facing me, while a new creature stood in Son's place. Even from my distance, I could see that, for all intents and purposes, it appeared as a person with Son's height, body type, and clothes. But instead of the dark skin, there was now sleek and metallic material that covered the entirety of her body.

I barely had time to take this all in before Stallion's voice reentered my head. "You should have never come."

He began walking towards me. I was faintly aware of the woman with the metal skin shouting out a single word as the muscle bound man changed before my very eyes. The clothes ripped from his body as his muscles grew and limbs twisted at impossible angels. Stallion let out a single cry that sounded somewhere between human and something far more primal as his face contorted and extended.

It lasted only a few seconds, but it was something I would never forget. The change. Where once stood a man, now was something completely different. It stood on all fours, it's soulless black eyes boring down on me. 

For the first time in many years, I thought of my earliest memory. Of my encounter with that German Shepherd bathed in fog. 

And, as I was still struggling to get my bearings, I found myself moments away from being trampled by the towering, black horse.

...

*Author's Note*

I guess Foxy's big reunion with Stallion wasn't how he expected it to go. Sure, they may have had their differences, but it looks like his once friend is about to turn him into a fox pancake. 

Can our protagonist even get through to his friend, let alone survive? I'd love to hear what you all think on the matter, or anything else that makes you feel like you made a very, big mistake.