Nightshade City (26 page)

“I know
of
him,” said Suttor. “He’s Billycan’s aide—keeps mostly to himself.”

“Do you know his clan name?”

“All I know is Lieutenant Carn has been Billycan’s aide for as long as I can remember. Why do you ask?”

“He helped us tonight,” said Juniper. “He could have handed us to Billycan, but he let us go. This lieutenant—Carn—he clearly knew who I was. I feel like I knew him too. I don’t know why he allowed us to get away.”

Billycan sat in the War Room with Killdeer and the majors. Texi had just cleared their late dinner away, and they were getting back to work. As much as he hated to admit it, Billycan knew Juniper was clever, probably more so than his own high majors. Juniper was well aware that there was no point in creating a new city if you couldn’t keep the inhabitants alive. The city had to be under the Reserve. The question was—where?

Billycan stared at the map. It was old, so old; it still said “Brimstone” across the top, the Reserve’s former name. “This map is useless,” he growled in frustration. “We know the general area where these traitors are hiding themselves, but that is all. We have to determine how our rats are being smuggled out. Someone must have left a trail. We will find it and kill Nightshade’s turncoat residents—filthy Loyalists. The Combs are slowly crumbling. We’ll claim Nightshade City as our territory—the
new
Catacombs.”

“Agreed,” said Killdeer,” but how are my subjects fleeing? We’ve had all the deserted quarters inspected, we’ve sent our best trackers to scour the Combs, and no evidence of escape has been reported. It’s as if the missing families have evaporated into dust.”

There was an urgent knocking at the door. “Enter,” barked Billycan, hoping for some fresh information. Carn entered the room. “Lieutenant Carn, as you can see, we are busy. Whatever you have to say better be important.”

Carn took a moment, catching his breath. “Sir, I just came from Major Lithgo’s sector,” he huffed.

Billycan’s temper was well past its tipping point. “Yes, yes, spit it out, Lieutenant Carn.”

“Sir, Training Lieutenants Duncan and Kar are missing.”

“Missing? What do you mean, ‘missing’?” asked Billycan, clearly annoyed. “Why do you pester me with this? Go find them!”

“They missed head count, sir. We’ve searched the entire barracks and training ground. They simply aren’t here. They were checked out earlier by the High Mistress of the Robes, and she never returned them to their unit. I don’t know if you’re aware, but they are Lieutenant Suttor’s brothers.”

Billycan scratched his chin, not yet alarmed. “The High Minister gave Mistress Gallo permission to have the boys for the day. Could it be possible they are simply late? Perhaps our High Mistress lost track of the hour.”

Lieutenant Carn’s body tensed. He gulped stiffly, as if trying to swallow a rock. Billycan had a tendency to release his rage on the messenger. “Commander, curfew came and went hours ago. As ordered, I’d gone to Mistress Gallo’s earlier to take down the details of the Chosen One’s kidnapping. She was not there. I thought nothing of it until the boys had been reported missing from the barracks and I
was informed that
she
had checked them out. I went back to her quarters straightaway and knocked several times on the door—in fact, pounded. I thought it best to come to you before beating it down, given her station within the High Ministry.”

Billycan was unaware of the late hour. They had worked well into the night, losing track of time. He paused for a moment, thinking about Mistress Gallo’s movements of late. Suddenly, everything connected. Billycan abruptly slammed his fists on the table, realizing once again he had been swindled. “How could I have missed it?
She
is the culprit! She is the biggest turncoat of them all—deceitful, double-dealing traitor hag!”

Killdeer stood up. “Billycan, are you suggesting our High Mistress is a conspirator?”

Billycan snarled wildly, wailing at Killdeer and the majors. “Yes, it’s her! She met with Clover. She had that filthy sack—Juniper’s sack! Too many coincidences—her
innocent
involvement with Clover’s desertion and the lieutenant’s kidnapping, and now—she’s taken the boy’s brothers! The lethal little harpy!” he roared, slamming his billy club on the map of the Reserve. “I’ll rip her serpent tongue from her mouth! We have found our link to Nightshade City. It’s been Gallo all along! She will pay with her hide! Majors Schnauss and Foiber, come with me to Gallo’s quarters. Lithgo, go find the soldiers who know these brothers and question them. Lieutenant Carn, go to the barracks and meticulously inspect the boys’ belongings for clues. Report back any findings in an hour’s time. We
will
find a trail!” Carn and the majors saluted Killdeer and exited, following Billycan, who’d already stormed feverishly out of the War Room.

Killdeer sat alone, not sure what to do with himself. He decided he would examine each and every one of the Catacomb maps. That
segment of his mind, the part once so brilliant at planning and strategizing, had been dormant for years. Perhaps, he thought, this would allow for a fresh perspective, something the others may have missed. Killdeer needed to win back the full respect of Billycan. His life depended on it.

Billycan kicked in the Gallos’ door. He, Schnauss, and Foiber entered the abandoned residence. Not much in the way of belongings seemed to be missing. Nothing was suspicious other than things appearing disorganized from what Billycan remembered of his last visit, as if items had been pushed around.

Schnauss examined the room with his one good eye. His voice cracked and gurgled as he spoke. “Commander, either Gallo’s housekeeping skills are sorely lacking or mischief is afoot.” He ran a decaying digit over Mother Gallo’s rocking chair. The room’s contents were covered in a fine layer of dirt. He rubbed the powder on his palm and looked up. “Her ceiling and walls are intact. There is nothing falling from above, so how did this coating get over everything in sight?”

Foiber studied the floor. The earthworms had swept the floor impeccably, leaving no trace of the dig. “What I don’t understand is this floor,” he said, feeling the ground with the sole of his foot. “The floor is strangely smooth, not dusty like everything else in this room. It’s immaculate.” He looked at Billycan. “Does this seem logical to you, Commander? A house full of rowdy boys, with not so much as a claw mark marring the floor?”

Billycan circled the room. “I noticed the same dust spread about the Belancort girl’s quarters, the night of her escape. At first, Billycan thought it was caused by the scuffle. Though now, I wonder. What could cause such a dusting?”

Foiber scratched his scaly haunches. “In my days of serving the Kill Army, I’ve led many a dig, especially back when we were expanding the Combs. The part I could never tolerate was the veneer of dry dirt that coated everything in sight. It irritated my skin to no end—always being caked with parched, prickly earth. The dusting in this room is the same, Commander. I think Juniper and his rats are digging into the Combs. The question is, how are they cleaning up the mess so quickly? There are traitors within the Combs. How else could they go undetected? Security has never been tighter, checkpoints never so strict.”

Billycan grunted, pounding the rock-hard floor with his foot. The earthworms had packed it solid. “We were at Clover’s door minutes after her escape, and the floor was wholly intact. No rats could accomplish that so quickly and still have time to flee. The moles would never assist our kind, not even Juniper. They’re too lumbering and far too lazy. The skittish shrews would not dare venture this deep into our world.”

Billycan picked up one of Hob’s toys, squeezing it harder and harder as he spoke. “Question everyone in Gallo’s sector. If anyone seems even the least bit deceptive, take them to holding for a proper interrogation. Someone has to know something.”

Schnauss grimaced, causing his front teeth to smash his lower lip. “Gallo will be caught,” he said. “You will have the distinct honor of butchering Gallo and her rotten sons in Catacomb Hall, giving our subjects an eyeful as a warning to others hoping to escape. You can leave her alive while she watches her precious boys bleed out before her traitorous eyes. Revenge is yours for the taking.”

The two high majors plodded out of the room. Billycan stood alone in the Gallo quarters. Still clutching the boy’s toy, he looked
down at it contemptuously. It was a wood carving of Trilok. He crushed it to splinters.

It was morning. Juniper and the Council had arrived in Bostwick Hall early for some peace and quiet. Their numbers now strong enough to go into battle, they needed to strategize.

Juniper thought the strange happenings over the last few days were signs from the Saints, signs that it was time to move forward—the discovery of the Nightshade brothers, Clover as a Chosen One, his reunion with Mother Gallo, and now the mysterious Lieutenant Carn, who allowed them to escape. It all seemed to point to something bigger. It was time to liberate the Catacombs.

The Nightshade rats had filled in the escape corridors they had used only a quarter of the way, corridors that led to multiple residents throughout the Combs. This way they could excavate quickly, launching surprise attacks in small groups on the Kill Army—guerrilla warfare, of sorts. They would invade from all sides of the Combs.

Suttor and his brothers would be of great help to Nightshade. They had full knowledge of the Kill Army comings and goings, numbers, etc. Juniper felt that if he could separate the troops from the majors, he could convince them to defect. The youths were programmed, led to believe the Kill Army to be the best thing that life had in store for them and that they should feel privileged to serve. Juniper wondered how easily a young rat could change back from soldier to boy. Only time would tell. Suttor and his brothers gave him hope.

The orphan girls were another matter entirely. Clover had told her uncle the stories she’d heard: their horrible living conditions, crammed into little rooms with odds and ends for food, many times with nothing at all. Longtooth tried to slip them what she could but
was constantly watched by the sector majors, making it almost impossible. With so little to survive on, many had died. The ones that survived kept to themselves, silent and subservient, the best way to steer clear of the backside of a major’s paw. The number of boys to girls in the Catacombs was alarmingly unbalanced. Juniper’s heart ached for them, so forgotten. If Clover had ever been found out—he could not finish the thought.

Vincent, Victor, and Suttor entered Bostwick Hall. They’d left the younger boys in bed, still worn from their trip. Suttor looked healthier.

“Boys,” said Juniper, “come and sit. Suttor, I was just thinking about you.”

“You were?” Suttor asked, taking a seat with Vincent and Victor at the table.

“Well, lad, I could use your help.”

“My help? What can I do?”

Juniper pushed over a plate of biscuits to the boys. “We need your knowledge of the majors’ typical comings and goings, everything from where they take their meetings to what time they change shifts, even when they relieve themselves!” he said with a chuckle. “My boy, every bit of information you can give us might be of great help, even if it seems inconsequential. The smallest detail could facilitate our victory.”

“I don’t think anything I know will help, but I’ll tell you everything I can,” said Suttor, ripping into a biscuit. “I owe you that and more.”

“Suttor, you don’t owe anyone anything, least of all me. This is your home now. This is everyone’s home,” he said. He looked round the room, slowly filling with hungry rats ready for breakfast. “We need to get one and all out of the Combs. That’s what all this is for—a
new way of life.” The Council nodded in agreement. “Now, let’s get started. Virden, are you ready?”

“Yes, ready as always,” said Virden. He pulled his feather from behind his ear and dipped it in ink, standing by to take notes.

Suttor sat with the Council for a large part of the morning, providing a wealth of information. He explained when the soldiers woke up, when they slept, when they ate, when and where they trained, when they were given leave—anything he could think of. He explained about the War Room, located in Killdeer’s compound. It was right next to the High Minister’s den. With some risky exploration, Oard and his tribe might be able to find it. Suttor said that’s where all sorts of maps, blueprints, and historical documents were stored. He said Lieutenant Carn had pointed out the room to him once and told him that’s where all vital meetings were held in times of conflict, so he could only surmise it was back in use.

Suttor’s injured head began to ache. “Juniper, I can’t think of another thing,” he said, rubbing between his eyes.

“Don’t get discouraged, son. This is all intelligence we can use. As I said, the smallest thing can win the battle, and your knowledge of the War Room is no small thing.”

Victor had gone to retrieve Suttor’s brothers. “Ah, finally awake, I see,” said Juniper. He grinned at the two young boys, both still groggy with sleep. “Boys, your brother has been helping us, sharing as much knowledge of the Kill Army as he can. Now, I know you boys weren’t on active duty, but can you think of anything that might help us, anything that would assist us getting in or out of the Combs: a secret entrance, an escape route, anything at all?”

Duncan, still disheveled from sleep, his orange fur sticking straight up in various places, marched up to Juniper. He had a sure expression on his chubby face. “I can tell you something, Juniper.
The Kill Army kitchens,” he stated plainly, as if Juniper should know exactly what he meant.

“What about the kitchens, Duncan?” asked Juniper, smiling at the plump rat. “What makes them so important?”

“Why, the chimneys, of course. They lead all the way up Topside. Can’t you get in through there, late at night, when the kitchens are empty?”

Everyone at the table was taken aback. Then Juniper laughed out loud. “Yes, Duncan, yes, we can!” he said. “An attack from below
and
above. It’s genius!” Juniper got up from the table and patted Duncan vigorously on the back. “My boy, how on earth did you figure that out?”