The Chronicles of Anicordia

The Best-Laid Plans

Part 2


“...What you see before you is the remains of what was to be the Fenwood All-Weather Windmill, the purportedly first of its kind. This mill, according to co-creator Professor Henry Kuwack of Mallard Brook, would generate power during all forms of weather, providing a ceaseless, clean, and cost-free energy supply to Fenwood. However, there was apparently a flaw in the design plan, as the entire structure fell apart on its test run. No foxes were injured, but the effects of its destruction went far and wide, scattering windmill blades all across the village. Neither Professor Kuwack nor his partner in this affair, Turbo Vulpe, resident handyfox and son of Mayor Carmella, were available for comment.”


It was the day after the disastrous mayhem caused by the windmill. Turbo was sitting alone in his bedroom, his curtains drawn, his television turned on to the news. Hearing his name brought up made his ears flatten against his skull, and an unpleasant weight drop into the pit of his stomach. He stared morosely at Beatrice Woods, the curvy chipmunk news reporter whom he and the others had rescued, along with her husband, from a hostage situation during their adventure. What did she think of him now, as being a part of this tragedy? Whatever she felt, she wasn’t letting it show.


He switched the television off and lay back on his bed, running his paws over his face. All of Anicordia knew he had been in the very middle of this, and now what would they think of him? He’d helped rescue King Richard from hypnotism and restore Fhey’s reputation, fought in the second great war against Ironscale, and aided His Majesty in delivering the final blow to Ironscale himself. He had been a hero, and now what was he? Responsible for panic and destruction in his own home...


Someone knocked at the door. Turbo remained silent.


“Turby?”


Only one person called him that. He knew who it was.


“Can I come in?”


Still Turbo didn’t answer. As if taking silence for assent, Carmella opened the door and peered in. Concern was stamped all over her face.


“Sweetie? Are you ok?”


Turbo kept his eyes averted from her. Did she resent him for what he’d done, too? Did Audrey?


“...I know you’re upset about what happened,” said Carmella, “but it wasn’t your fault.”


“It was,” Turbo muttered, huskily. “It was my fault…Fenwood doesn’t deserve a screw-up like me...”


“Honey, you shouldn’t talk like that,” said Carmella, looking hurt. “You’re not a screw-up.”


“So why did the windmill collapse like that?!” Turbo suddenly snapped, looking his mother straight in the eye. “Henry’s too good to make a mistake that huge! It had to be because of something I did to mess it up! He shouldn’t have let me build it along with him...The windmill might have been...Fenwood might have been...”


He broke off, looking away again. Tears sparkled in Carmella’s eyes. It was painful to hear her son talk this way. She wanted to rush over and embrace him, but something seemed to hold her back.


“...You know you don’t really believe that,” she said, finally. “I just want you to know that we’ll always be here for you, Turby. You’re my son, and I’ll love you no matter what happens.”


Turbo didn’t answer, keeping his back to his mother, as she left, shutting the door behind her. He didn’t want her to have to see the tears in his own eyes…


***


“Could’ve wrecked the whole village!”


“What does he think he’s playing at?!”


“I always knew that Kuwack fellow was cracked, and now he’s roped Turbo into his lunacy!”


“I was opposed to that mill from the beginning! Too ambitious for a handyfox!”


The Fenwooders weren’t even bothering to keep their voices down as they walked past the Vulpe residence. Cleanup of the mill wreckage was underway, and those taking part were grumbling about the amount of work and the extent of the destruction. Turbo could hear every word as they passed, especially those blaming him. He felt like the lowest of the low.


“Shut up!” snapped Syren’s voice. “He hasn’t done anything wrong!”


“Hasn’t done anything wrong? Were you even there to see it, Syren? That piece of junk he and Kuwack put together nearly destroyed Fenwood!”


“That still doesn’t mean you should make Turbo out to be a criminal!” came Crystal’s angry voice. “No one could have known that would happen.”


“He’s smart enough, he should have made sure it never happened in the first place.”


Turbo turned away, unwilling to listen to anymore. His friends were sticking up for him, but the rest of Fenwood was right. He should have known better. Something as complex and ambitious as the All-Weather Windmill should have been checked for potential errors. He’d been sure that nothing was wrong, but then, perhaps that was why he should never have undertaken the project in the first place. He was more suited for patching leaks in roofs, fixing TVs, and unblocking pipes. Now, however, he wondered if he was even fit for that, after such a colossal mishap. He wouldn’t have been surprised if he never received another project in the village again. No one would trust him anymore....


***


Two days passed in this manner. Turbo remained holed up in his room, refusing meals and visitors alike. After the visit from Carmella, he had locked his bedroom door, ignoring the knocks upon it from the other side. His heart hurt to hear Carmella and Audrey gently pleading for him to come out, but his mind was made up. He was never going to hurt anyone ever again, and he was going to make sure of it. Not even Syren and Crystal’s voices of reassurance would persuade him to end this solitary torture he was putting himself through.


That evening, Turbo was brought out of his torpor by the noise of a window opening, and someone grunting with effort. He looked up. Half of Eclipse was poking through his bedroom window. The only reason the rest of her wasn’t inside was because she was having trouble fitting her curvaceous hips through.


“You really need a bigger window,” she muttered, sardonically. “This one wasn’t made with me in mind.”


Turbo didn’t answer. He just watched as Eclipse, with a huge effort, finally managed to squeeze her hips through and landed on the floor. Next second, she stood up, regarding him with folded arms and a purposeful look in her yellow eyes.


“What do you want?” Turbo asked.


“What everyone else wants,” said Eclipse. “For you to stop being so ridiculous and come out of your room.”


“Not happening,” Turbo muttered, turning over.


A pair of soft yet strong paws grabbed his shoulders and turned him back over. Eclipse glared down at him.


“You’re acting like a child, Turbo,” she said, coldly. “You’re blowing this whole thing completely out of proportion.”


“Out of proportion?” retorted Turbo, angrily. “Eclipse, you saw what happened! I could have demolished Fenwood! I could have killed someone!”


“But you didn’t,” said Eclipse, firmly, “and that’s what matters.”


“No, what matters is that I almost destroyed our home!” Turbo shouted, jumping to his feet.


Eclipse raised an eyebrow.


“Are you even listening to yourself?” she asked.


“What do you mean?”


“This whole time, you’ve been acting like this whole thing has been your fault and yours only. Haven’t you ever once considered that Henry might be suffering too?”


Turbo blinked.


“That’s right,” said Eclipse, nodding grimly. “You’ve spent so much time heaping all of the blame onto yourself, throwing a pity party of one, that you never gave a thought to what poor Henry’s been going through.”


“I...I wasn’t…” Turbo began.


“Wasn’t thinking? Well, I could have told you that,” said Eclipse, rolling her eyes. “Your mom’s been in contact with him. He feels awful about what happened, but he hasn’t shut himself away in his lab like a vampire scared of the sun. He’s doing his best to square up to what happened, and you should do the same.”


“But,” Turbo muttered, “but everyone in Fenwood hates me now. They’ll never trust me again. You must have heard them during cleanup…”


Eclipse gripped his shoulders, much more gently this time. Her expression was a lot gentler as well.


“They don’t hate you, Turbo,” she said. “They never hated you. They were just scared, like everyone else. And, you have to admit, cleaning up the remains of a giant windmill wasn’t exactly fun. But besides that,” she added, becoming slightly stern again, “I find it hard to believe you’d take their word over those of your own friends and family. You ought to know us by now, Turbo. We’d never abandon you, and we never will. No one’s perfect. Everyone makes mistakes, and hiding yourself away from the rest of the world isn’t going to make those mistakes go away. Now, will you trust us to come out again? Will you trust me?”


Turbo stared into Eclipse’s golden eyes, lost for words. His entire resolution to hide himself away for what he did seemed suddenly childish and immature. Henry felt just as bad as he had, but he wasn’t locked away brooding. And his friends, his family...how could he reject their words of comfort and consolation when they meant more to him than any other? He felt like the biggest fool in the world.


Eyes overbright, he collapsed against Eclipse’s slender frame, putting his arms about her. She embraced him in turn, stroking the back of his head softly.


“It’s all right,” she whispered. “It’s all right…”


“I’ve been a real idiot,” Turbo croaked. “Dad wouldn’t have wanted me to act this way...I just…”


“I know,” Eclipse said. “I understand.”


She tilted his face up and tenderly licked his cheek. A tear leaked out of his blue eye, and he strengthened his hug. The two of them stood, in each others arms, in the middle of the room, for what felt like a blissful eternity.


It was broken, however, by a sudden knock on the bedroom door. Both looked up.


“Turbo? Can we come in?”


“That’s Henry,” said Turbo, surprised. “But, what does he mean by ‘we’?”


Eclipse looked just as puzzled as he did. Quickly, he unlocked the door and opened it. There, standing in the doorway was Henry, but he wasn’t alone. A purple-furred feline swathed all in black stood beside him.


“Fhey??”


“Hello, Turbo, Eclipse. I’m very sorry to hear about what happened here, but it’s because of that that I’ve come as quickly as I could.”


Turbo and Eclipse stood back, allowing the two to enter. Both were wearing identical expressions of grave seriousness.


“So,” said Henry, fixing Turbo with a steady gaze, “you’ve been moping in here for two days, blaming yourself for everything that’s happened?” He shook his head solemnly. “Turbo, Turbo, that’s not like you at all. I know it was a terrible thing to witness. I was shaken myself, I won’t lie, but I never expected the son of Sir Arthur to retreat into his room like a boy caught stealing cookies.”


Turbo’s ears flattened again.


“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.


“Don’t be,” said Henry, gently. “I didn’t come to make you feel worse. I came to tell you something.”


“What’s that?”


“Neither of us are to blame for what happened.”


Turbo’s jaw fell open in shock. Eclipse looked startled.


“W-What do you mean?”


Henry looked at Fhey, who nodded and took a deep breath.


“Turbo...the windmill didn’t collapse because you and Henry failed to build it properly...It collapsed because of magic.”


Turbo stared at her, eyes wide.


“Magic?” he repeated. “How do you know?”


“Don’t you remember?” Fhey asked. “Spellcasters can see traces of magic when it’s used.”


Turbo nodded, mouth still slightly open. He did remember Fhey telling him that, years ago. It was how she knew King Richard had been hypnotized in the first place.


“That’s right,” Fhey went on. “I saw it happen when they replayed it on the news. It started right when Henry activated that windmill. I thought, at first, that the camera had glitched or something, but then it happened again, right before the windmill blades flew off, and then again, before the entire structure collapsed. Someone magically sabotaged it and made it go haywire. Neither of you were at fault.”


“Fhey got in contact with me about it as soon as she noticed,” said Henry, “and the two of us rushed on over to Fenwood to find you.”


Warm, inexpressible relief spread over Turbo’s body. Even though the amount of damage the windmill had caused still upset him, the news that he was not, after all, responsible for its collapse was wonderful to hear...


“But then who did it?” Eclipse asked. “Do you know?”


Fhey’s mouth thinned, her brows furrowing.


“Oh, I know, all right,” she said, darkly. “I took the liberty of examining the scrap metal left over from the windmill. There were still vestiges of the spell left in the pieces, and I could tell at a glance who’d cast it.”


“How?” Turbo asked. “Is it that simple?”


“It is for us,” said Fhey. “Every spellcaster has a unique magical imprint left after casting a spell, sort of like a fingerprint. The magically-inclined can use this to determine who cast what spell.”


“Wow,” muttered Turbo, impressed to know so many intricacies about magic.


“And the imprints on this little act of sabotage,” said Fhey, “point directly to one animal, as much as I hate to be reminded of him. ...Magus Talpa.”


Silence fell over the room at this pronouncement.


“...Who?” Henry asked, finally.


“Oh, come on, Henry!” said Fhey, impatiently. “You know who I’m talking about!”


“Talpa?” Turbo finally asked. “That screechy little mole rat Crystal whaled on?”


“Ohhh, I remember,” said Henry, snapping his fingers in realization. “The one who cursed Fhey so she couldn’t use magic for a while!”


“That’s him,” said Fhey, grimly. “He disappeared off the face of the Earth after Salazar and Ironscale were dealt with, just like Sienna and the Rattley Brothers. If I were a guessing girl, I’d wager he still very much remembers us and what we did to him, and wants us to pay for it.”


“Then if we’re going to settle this,” said Turbo, clenching his fist, “we have to find him and drag a confession out of him. He won’t get away with this...”


“But how do we find him?” Eclipse asked. “We saw what a cowardly little scab he is. He could be miles away by now.”


To their surprise, Fhey smiled.


“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that, Eclipse,” she said. “I know precisely where he is.”


***


“The Copper Tod? You can’t be serious!”


The Copper Tod was Fenwood’s prime inn, boasting comfortable rooms and a spacious tavern with excellent drink. It was Fenwood’s answer to Felinia’s Crouching Tiger or Big Ursa’s Sander’s House. Henry, for his part, said no place beat the Golden Goose in Mallard Brook.


Turbo, Eclipse, Fhey, and Henry now stood outside the inn, a wide, two-story building with a signboard depicting a gamboling fox kit painted in bronze. Loud talking and laughter were drifting out through the open door. Both Turbo and Eclipse had brought their swords with them, in case things turned out nasty.


“He’s been in Fenwood the whole time?” Eclipse asked, unable to believe it.


“That’s right,” said Fhey. “My magic senses never lie. His aura is sitting over this inn like a rank funk.”


“But wouldn’t someone have noticed he was here?” asked Henry. “I mean, I know the ‘All Are Welcome’ statute lets anyone stay wherever they want, but a naked mole rat dressed like a Sith Lord is kind of a dead giveaway, isn’t it?”


“He might have hoodwinked Bertram,” said Turbo, referring to the Tod’s jolly innkeeper. “He did study under Salazar, after all.”


Fhey laughed softly.


“I think you’re giving Talpa too much credit,” she said. “Come on. Let’s see for ourselves.”


Before they could take a step inside, however, a loud ruckus met their ears. Someone was yelling in protest, and many voices were laughing and jeering.


“Unhand me, you uncouth tap-jockey! You can’t do this to me!”


“Oh yeah? Watch me!”


Next second, a tiny figure swathed in a black cloak was tossed out through the door, landing in the grass ten feet away. In the doorway, dusting off his paws, stood Bertram Stoutmuzzle, the barrel-chested, brawny-armed innkeeper of the Tod. Bertram was well known for being one of the most likeable bachelors in Fenwood, but he also was not someone to make angry, unless that unlucky soul had a death wish.


The diminutive figure staggered to his feet, and Turbo recognized him at once: Magus Talpa, the loud-mouthed underling of the late Salazar Veneficus. He didn’t understand how no one could have known he was here, like Henry said. He wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. Talpa didn’t even seem to notice the four friends were standing there. His attention and fury were focused entirely on Bertram, who stood, arms folded, looking sternly unconcerned.


“You’ll pay for this!” Talpa shouted. “Have you any inkling in that brain of yours who you’ve just wronged?!”


“Not really, and I don’t really care, either,” said Bertram. “You think you can loaf around my inn without paying? Not on my watch.”


And with that, Bertram retreated back into the noise and bustle of the inn. Talpa hissed angrily.


“How dare he...I am the great Magus Talpa, protege of Salazar Veneficus, rest his wicked soul, and I demand respect and satisfaction! I didn’t have to pay the whole time I was there, and now he raises a stink about it? The foxes in this village are all batty!”


Turbo couldn’t help finding this odd. He’d been staying at the inn without having to pay? How could he get away with that? And if he was that ‘famous’, why did Bertram only now call issue to it if he wasn’t hypnotized? And why was Fhey laughing beside him?


Talpa appeared to have heard, and he whipped around to face them.


“Who dares laugh at the misfortune of the great Maguuuuuu….”


He trailed off, his mouth going slack. Though his cloak’s hood obscured his eyes, Turbo could tell he was struck dumb with seeing old enemies standing feet away, the men with their arms folded, the women with their paws on their hips, all glaring at him. All of them, that is, except Fhey, who was still grinning in an amused way.


“Well, hello, Talpa,” she said. “Long time no see.”


Talpa stood rooted to the spot, staring from one stony face to the next. Then, he turned around abruptly and made a break for it. Turbo and Eclipse went for their sword hilts, but Fhey snapped her fingers. Talpa tripped and fell as thick ropes materialized, winding their way up from his ankles to his shoulders, binding his arms and legs in place. He thrashed on the ground like a landed fish, squeaking and cursing.


“Nice one,” said Henry. “Is that new?”


“It is for the moment,” said Fhey. “I never had the opportunity to really test it.”


The four approached the struggling mole rat as he continued to flail and shout.


“Unbind me this instant!” he snapped. “How dare you treat me like this! Me!”


“We’re not going to hurt you, Talpa,” said Turbo, coldly. “Not as long as you tell us the truth.”


Talpa stared up at them, and when he spoke next, his tone was one of great surprise.


“Why, Mr. Vulpe! Is it truly you? And Miss Moontail, Professor Kuwack, and, of course, dear Miss Augur! How did I not recognize you before?”


“You seemed to recognize us pretty well, when you ran for your life,” said Henry.


“Ran for my life? Oh, no, no, not at all! I had just remembered something I had forgotten to do, and was going to zip off to-”


“Cut the crap, Talpa,” interrupted Eclipse, icily. “What are you doing in Fenwood?”


“What am I doing in Fenwood?” repeated Talpa.


Here, he put on a contrite, regretful air.


“I’ve come to make amends for my past mistakes,” he said. “When Salazar was gone, I realized what a terrible mistake I had made in making such a man my idol. I feared persecution for my crimes, so I fled. I’m not proud of it, but there you are. Now, three years later, I have decided to start my life anew, and where better to start than the peaceful village of Fenwood?”


The four friends looked at each other, eyebrows raised. Who did he think he was fooling with this?


“Being of meager funds, I came here to the Copper Tod to spend a few nights. I will say that it has excellent service, cozy accommodations, and satisfying refreshments. I had worried that my reputation might mar your fellow foxes’ judgements upon my reformed self, but the Tod welcomed me with open arms. I must confess, however, that that landlord’s behavior confuses me. I wasn’t asked for payment for anything before now. That barman obviously didn’t fully realize who was staying in his inn.”


This still seemed an odd thing, but Turbo couldn’t concentrate on it with Fhey laughing right beside him.


“Do you honestly think that you’ve been given special permission because you’re ‘reformed’?” she asked.


Talpa seemed puzzled.


“Whatever do you mean?” he asked.


“Is that guy still bumming around?”


Everyone looked up. Bertram had returned, wiping his paws on his bar apron. He looked surprised at the scene before him: Talpa tied up and the four friends standing over him.


“What’s going on here?” he asked. “This guy bothering you, Mr. Vulpe? I had a feeling he was up to no good.”


Talpa looked about to protest, but Turbo was struck by a sudden idea.


“Can I ask you something, Bertram?”


“Of course! Ask away.”


“Have you seen him around the Tod lately, before today?” Turbo asked, pointing down to Talpa.


Bertram scratched his head.


“...Not that I can recall,” he said. “I only saw him today, helping himself to my finest beer, not even bothering to pay.”


“What are you talking about?” Talpa asked. “I’ve been here for nearly a week! I was given all courtesies at your inn!”


“Courtesies shmourtesies!” scoffed Bertram. “You’ve been here a week? I would have remembered if I’d seen your ratty face before now.”


“But I was at the checkout!” Talpa protested. “I made my intentions clear, and since no one answered, I assumed your staff were wowed by my change of heart, and I showed myself to one of your finer rooms.”


“Ohhh, is that what that was?” asked Bertram. “It was a busy day, foxes talking about the All-Weather Windmill. I thought I heard something squeaking near the reception desk, but I didn’t see anything. Thought I was stepping on a bad floorboard.”


Talpa’s jaw fell open. Fhey burst into a renewed and hearty fit of laughter, paws clutched over her pudgy stomach.


“I knew it!” she wheezed, falling backward onto her rear. “I knew it! You’ve spent the whole week living like you were a V.I.A.! Oh, you were one, all right: a Very Invisible Animal!”


Now Turbo understood. Talpa was so short, he wouldn’t have been able to be seen from the back of the counter, and he was such a small animal, that his voice wouldn’t carry unless he was yelling. He had taken their ignorance completely the wrong way!


Now he knew why Fhey had been so prone to laughter about Talpa being at the Tod, and he joined in, the absurdity catching up with him. Soon, Eclipse, Henry, and even Bertram joined in. Talpa, however, was not the least bit amused. There was a burst like a cannon blast as an invisible force pushed everyone back. The ropes had burned away from whatever Talpa had done, and he was now on his feet, livid.


“Silence!” he screeched. “Silence! I will not be mocked like this! Do you not realize who I am?! I am the great Magus Talpa, protege of the departed Salazar Veneficus! Though he may be gone, his legacy lives on in me, his most prized pupil, and I demand respect!”


Unfortunately, this was not helped by the fact that he was hopping up and down by the end of this, like a child throwing a tantrum. Henry snickered.


“That’s just adorable,” he said.


“Quiet!” Talpa shrieked. “I haven’t come all this way to be insulted!”


“Oh?” asked Eclipse, smirking. “Then where do you usually go?”


“Good one!” laughed Bertram.


Talpa snarled.


“You pestilential peace-loving furballs! If my master were still alive, you’d be screaming rather than laughing! Screaming in pain from his retribution for mocking his prized pupil!”


“Hey, now,” said Turbo, still grinning, “what about all of that ‘making amends for my past mistakes’ stuff?”


“Amends?!” Talpa screamed, looking slightly deranged. “With you?! Never! You humiliated me! You ruined me! You took my master from me!”


“Actually, that was Ironscale,” said Eclipse, but Talpa wasn’t listening. He also didn’t seem to be aware of foxes sticking their heads out of windows and doors, attracted by the noise.


“Ohhhh, if only you’d been in better range! I could have flattened you all with the wreckage of that windmill and be done with you, if I wasn’t so bent on making it look like an accident!”


Talpa’s voice rang loud and clear throughout the village, and then, there was total silence. All eyes were fixed on the naked mole rat who had just made this proclamation. Blank shock and horror were mirrored on every face, except for Turbo and his friends, who were wearing identical grins of grim satisfaction.


It took, perhaps, 10 seconds for Talpa to realize what he’d just said. He clapped both paws to his mouth, looking around at the sea of foxes now closing in around him.


“Would you care to repeat that, Talpa?” asked Turbo. “Then again, I don’t think our ears could handle another bout of that screeching of yours.”


“Are you telling me he did it?!”


“The little vermin!”


“So Turbo and Kuwack were innocent!”


“You scum! You could’ve killed someone!”


“You’ll pay for that!”


“Get him!”


Talpa backed away, the foxes drawing ever closer to him. His eyes fell on Turbo and his friends, and he called,


“This isn’t the end! I’ll be back, and next time, you won’t be so lucky! Mark my words!”


With a swish of his cloak, Talpa turned on the spot...and was gone.


“Hey! Where’d he go?!”


“He disappeared!”


“Damn it! He got away!”


“Spread out! He might still be here!”


Foxes went this way and that, scattering to search. Fhey shook her head.


“No use doing that,” she said. “He won’t have stuck around this time. Talpa might have prodigious magical power, but at the end of the day, he’s just a big coward. But he’ll be back, make no mistake...”


“And we’ll be there to send him packing again,” said Eclipse, firmly.


Turbo and Henry nodded their agreement. Neither one said anything about it, but both were feeling the same level of relief that the mystery of the destroyed mill was finally cleared up, and their reputations restored...


***


“When we first established the ‘All Are Welcome’ statute in our towns and villages, it was meant to give all animals a chance to live wherever they wanted to live, regardless of species. It was to bring us all closer together, to forge new ties of unity, closeness, and kinship. It was meant to cast aside the old worries and doubts brought about by the days of Lord Ironscale and his ‘carnivores first’, ‘survival of the fittest’ nonsense.


“Unfortunately, as it was demonstrated only a few days ago, there are some animals out there who use and abuse this special privilege for their own selfish benefits. The All-Weather Windmill was not, in fact, ruined by faulty construction and malfunctioning circuitry. It was magically sabotaged by Magus Talpa, a follower of the late Salazar Veneficus, who aided Lord Ironscale in his last attempt to seize Anicordia for his own. Talpa was able to penetrate Fenwood’s boundaries and intermingle with the populace, providing him with a place to hide and carry out his deed. The damage has been done, Talpa has fled, and all we can do now is move forward.


“I will not place blame or scold anyone who held the belief that my son or Professor Kuwack were the cause of the destruction of the mill. If not for the deductive resources of Miss Fhey Augur, we would not have discovered the truth. However, I will say that this event has made me have to seriously consider tighter security around Fenwood. Now, don’t be misled. I am not turning our village into a concentration camp or anything of the sort. I merely mean that we need better protection to prevent something like this from ever happening again.


“Therefore, I look to Eclipse Moontail, who has served as a guardswoman in Felinia prior to moving to Fenwood, to bring together a suitable task force of guards who will protect Fenwood from further acts of this kind. In the meantime, I am pleased to announce that Turbo and Professor Kuwack have already begun reconstruction efforts on the All-Weather Windmill, and will ensure that this time, nothing will go wrong. Once again, I feel confident in saying that this may very well mark the dawn of a new age in Fenwood, and perhaps even in Anicordia!”


Wild applause met the end of Carmella’s speech. It was a few days after the discovery and escape of Talpa. Another newscasting had been arranged, so that all of Anicordia would know the truth of what had happened in Fenwood. Most of the damage done had been taken care of, and rebuilding efforts were already underway to patch up the roofs and walls of houses hit.


Turbo was back and forth between lending a paw with the repair jobs and assisting Henry in rebuilding the All-Weather Windmill Mk II. It was pretty much the same as the first mill, but Henry just liked the name ‘Mk II’. He had also been ‘drafted’ into Eclipse’s new guard training regimen.


“You’re practically a knight already,” she told him, when he expressed surprise at her suggestion. “You and me could really whip these guys into shape. Besides,” she added, teasingly, “I need someone to demonstrate sword moves on, and we’ve had plenty of practice with that already.”


“Don’t I know it?” Turbo muttered, eyes skyward.


Nevertheless, he was grateful that Eclipse thought he’d make a good teacher alongside her. The only thing was, she insisted that he was her ‘assistant’, since Carmella had named her as being in charge of training. Turbo had no arguments to make against that; he’d just have to live with it.


As he went about his business. patching holes, building the mill, spending time with Eclipse, Turbo was bombarded by apologies and compliments by his fellow Fenwooders. All of them had changed their tune after the truth had come out, and had taken back their grumbles and gripes.


“Job well done, Turbo.”


“No hard feelings, right, Vulpe?”


“Never doubted you for a second.”


“About what I said, Turbo…”


“You’re a credit to Fenwood, my boy.”


Turbo’s heart swelled like a balloon at these times. It felt wonderful to be back in the good graces of his neighbors, and to have things back to normal again. Well, as normal as they could be in a village like Fenwood. Still, he wouldn’t trade it for any other home in Anicordia.