Chapter Twenty
Torus winced as Mr. Nile tied off the strip of cloth he had used to wrap his injured wrist. He and the rest had gone directly to Mr. Nile’s home after the accident.
“It’s a bad sprain,” said the old rat, “but nothing’s broken. It will be tender for a few days, but it should be back to normal soon enough.” He walked slowly over to one of the piles of assorted junk and came back with a white tablet and a small metal fingernail file. He scraped the tablet with the file and made a small pile of white powder on a scrap of paper, then folded the paper into a packet and handed it to Torus.
“Take a pinch of this with your food, two times a day. It will help with the swelling and the pain.”
“Okay,” said Torus. “What is it?”
“A human medicine. I don’t know what they call it.” He showed him the surface of the tablet and pointed to the markings on it. “These marks and the smell and taste of it let me know what kind of medicine it is. Mr. Gumble gets them for me.” He shuffled back to put the items away, then turned and climbed back onto his bed.
“Forgive me,” he said. “I tire too easily now,” and he coughed painfully.
“Are you okay?” asked Nevi. “Can we…get you anything?”
“Thank you, Nevi, you’re very kind,” he replied. “No, unfortunately, I’m afraid there’s nothing to do but wait it out.”
“Wait what out?” said Chello. “I don’t like the sound of that…”
“Wait for the illness to run its course. Either I’ll get better or I won’t. Either way it can’t last forever.”
“I don’t like it,” Chello muttered, and Mr. Nile laughed quietly.
“To be honest, I’m not terribly enthusiastic about it myself,” he said, “but it is what it is.”
Flinka leaned over to Nevi.
“We should leave,” she whispered, and Nevi nodded.
Torus stood up and gingerly tried walking with his bandaged wrist. It was less painful than before, but it was still more comfortable to hobble along on three feet, so he hobbled over to Mr. Nile.
“Thank you,” he said. “I’ll bring you some food after the forage.”
“No need,” said Mr. Nile. “What I get from the Clan Stockpile is sufficient.”
“But there’s no chocolate, right? I’ll see if I can bring you some.”
The old rat smiled, but didn’t say anything.
As the young rats turned to leave, however, he spoke up suddenly.
“Arkon,” he said, “can you stay behind for a moment? I remembered something I want to show you.”
“Uh, sure,” said Arkon uncertainly.
“Okay, well, we’ll see you tomorrow night then, right?” said Chello.
“Uh, sure.”
Once outside Mr. Nile’s home, the young rats headed off in different directions and Nevi, Chello, and Torus started slowly down the tunnel toward their floor. They moved slowly to avoid bothering Torus’s injuries.
“I’m worried about Mr. Nile,” said Nevi suddenly. “He doesn’t sound good.”
“I know,” said Torus. “That’s what my mom was like at the end, after the girls came.”
“That’s what my dad’s like all the time,” Chello said with a sneer.
They continued on in silence until they were near Chello’s home, and Torus stopped to rest, rubbing his sore wrist gingerly.
“Don’t tell my dad, okay?” said Torus.
“Tell him what?” said, Chello. “That you tripped over your own tail and fell down a tunnel into brick wall?”
“Whatever,” said Torus, rolling his eyes.
“Listen,” said Nevi, “about tomorrow night…”
“What about it?” said Chello. “It’s all planned.”
“I know,” she said, “but with Torus hurt…I don’t know…”
“It’ll be fine,” said Chello. “Maybe his wrist will be better tomorrow. Anyway, the rest of us are all okay, right?”
“I guess so…” she said, uncertainly.
“I’ll be fine,” Torus interjected. “I can help with the backup part, even if I can’t fight.”
“Are we actually going to fight them?” asked Nevi. “I thought we were just going to try to scare them away from the dumpster during our hours.”
“We’ll see,” said Chello, his voice low. “Just show up like we planned, meet at the entrance to the tunnel under the street. Bring a weapon, if you can find one.” He turned down the side tunnel toward his home. “I’ll see you then,” he said as he disappeared.
Torus and Nevi continued on. “Are you okay to get home?” she asked as they passed her nest.
“Sure,” he said. “You go on home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she said, turning to leave. “Don’t fall down any more tunnels, okay?”
“Whatever.”
The next evening Torus waited at the entrance to the long tunnel that led under the street to the park. He was the first one there. It was a rest day, so the tunnels had been mostly empty, and the few rats he had seen had passed him without speaking.
He had an uneasy feeling about being away from his family that day. His father had been alarmed at his injuries, and kept asking questions.
“How did you fall,” he asked. “Don’t you watch where you’re going? It must have been quite a fall to get hurt like this. Were you running from something? Why did you go to Nile’s instead of coming right home?”
Torus tried to keep up with vague answers and half-truths. No, he and his friends were just fooling around and he lost his balance. Mr. Nile was closer than home and it was too hard to walk. His father looked at him skeptically, but finally seemed to accept what he was saying.
Getting away the next day to join the others for the raid was more difficult, however.
“We always stay home together on rest days,” his father protested. “Who are all these friends you’re spending all your time with?”
Torus explained it was all the same friends he’d known forever, and they were planning on playing some game that if he wasn’t there it wouldn’t work and they’d be mad at him and –
“Okay, okay, okay,” his father finally said. “You can go. Just be more careful, okay?”
Moki wanted to come along, and for a brief panicked moment Torus thought his father would let him. But instead, his father winked at Torus and told Moki “No, I don’t think there’s room for you in the game they have planned.”
“Okay,” Torus had said. “Thanks, I’ll see you later.”
“Alright,” his father replied as Torus made his way out of the den. “Don’t fall down any more tunnels, okay?”
Torus looked down at his wrist. The swelling was less, and when he had re-wrapped it earlier it was less stiff as well. The medicine Mr. Nile had given him was helpful, and he had taken some before coming to meet the others. He could walk on the foot now, if he was careful, and could handle objects with his paw if he didn’t have to grip too tightly.
He wasn’t used to being the first to arrive, and he looked around to see if anyone else was coming. He was a little anxious about the raid, and began to hope it had been cancelled. The thought of facing angry birds was alarming, and he worried he would black out again or that his sprained wrist would cause trouble for him.
His reverie was interrupted by Nevi appearing silently at his side. He was no longer startled by this, but he still wondered how she accomplished it.
“Hi,” he said, then he looked at her and noticed her appearance. “What is that?” he asked. She was wearing a kind of cape with a hood that fit over her head. It was made of dark green cloth and fastened under her chin with a string.
“My mom made it,” she said. “She doesn’t want me to get cold.”
“Does she know what we’re doing?” he asked, nervously.
“No, I told her we were going to the alley to poke around for supplies. So she gave me thi
s. She told me it’s a winter foraging cape.” She held up a corner of the cloth and looked at it. “It’s okay, I guess. It feels weird to wear coverings like a human.”
“It’s nice,” said Torus. “And I bet it keeps you warm, too.”
“Yeah, that’s what she said…”
After that they waited silently. As the others arrived they exchanged mumbled greetings, but any attempt at small talk soon faded away. Last of all, Chello arrived, pushing one of the smaller sledges. He maneuvered it awkwardly down the tunnel toward them and stopped next to the group.
“Greetings, Raiders,” he said.
Torus recognized the sledge as the one he and his father had built, the one that had been commandeered by the foraging committee for “the greater good.”
“It’s easier if you pull it,” he said.
“Don’t like the straps,” panted Chello. “Don’t like to be tied up.”
“What’s it for?” asked Juke, squinting at it.
“To carry the weapons,” said Arkon, “remember? And to make it look like we’re just a normal foraging team, in case anyone sees us.”
“I’ll pull it,” said Juke shortly.
“He always pulls the sledge on our team,” said Flinka, somewhat proudly. “All by himself,” she added.
Chello started gathering weapons from the groups and stacking them carefully on the sledge.
“How did you get it?” asked Torus.
“Don’t worry about it,” Chello replied, distractedly. “Come on, let’s go. It’s past dark now.”
“Hey, where’s Pryus?” Torus asked.
“Not coming,” said Chello, shortly. “Said he doesn’t want to be the one to drag me home in pieces.” He resumed loading the sledge, muttering almost to himself.
“Drag me home in pieces. Cheese! The truth is, he’s got knots in his tail for some female on the third floor and he’d rather chase her than get into a good fight.”
He started down the long tunnel to the park, followed by Juke, pulling the sledge, and then Nevi and Flinka, with Torus and Arkon bringing up the rear. Torus’s wrist began to bother him, and his knee was stiff and painful where it had been cut.
“Are you doing alright?” asked Arkon.
“Fine,” said Torus, “just slow.”
He wondered whether he would be any good if the raid became an actual fight, and wished he’d put more effort into finding a weapon.
They wound their way through the tunnel, feeling the faint vibration of the human’s machines rumbling past above them.
“This is probably a lot easier now that we’ve finished widening the tunnel, right?” said Arkon.
“Yeah,” said Torus. “Leveling the floor helped, too.”
“Shhh,” Nevi whispered back at them. “We’re almost there.”
After two more turns and a slight climb they came to the vertical passage that led up to the entrance by the dumpster. Juke unfastened the straps that held him to the sledge and Chello started pulling weapons out. Everyone was silent, their eyes on Chello as he handed weapons to their owners.
“Here, I brought you this,” he said to Torus, handing him a short yellow stick with a knob of red rubber on one end and a sharp black point on the other.
“Hey, I know what that is,” said Arkon. “Mr. Nile has one. Humans make marks with them.”
“Well now it’s a weapon,” said Chello. “It’s sharp and easy to handle.”
Torus nodded without speaking and gripped the stick gingerly with his injured paw.
Chello picked up his knitting needle and gestured everyone together.
“Okay,” he said. “Just like we planned. We’ll go up and act like we’re foraging, so we’ll spread out, but keep an eye on each other. Once the pigeons swoop down on somebody, everybody else come running and we’ll let them have it. Just try really hard to keep your heads on straight. They’re just pigbirds, remember. They can’t hurt us if we team up against them.”
The group nodded and Chello turned toward the faint light that came down the passage. The others followed him and one at a time he gestured to them to climb up.
“Remember,” he whispered, “stay in the shadow behind the wall until we’re all up there.”
Juke went up first, followed by Flinka and Nevi. When Torus’s turn came he felt a sudden twinge in his stomach. Once he got into the passage, he found that he couldn’t get a grip on the surface with just one hand. He put the yellow stick in his teeth, but his aching wrist wasn’t strong enough to help. The passage had been widened as well and he was unable to brace his back against the far wall without putting too much pressure on his stiff knee. He tried three times to get a purchase on the walls, but each time he slid back down, the last time landing on top of Chello.
Chello was clearly frustrated, and moved to climb up the passage himself, gesturing Torus aside and shaking his head. Torus wordlessly asked for some help to try one more time, but Chello shook his head again and disappeared up the passage.
Torus sat down in the darkness and threw the yellow stick as far as he could down the tunnel, listening to it roll to a stop far off in the shadows. He had never felt like such a useless failure in his life.
He tried one more time to climb the passage, and managed to get nearly half way up before he couldn’t climb any more. His wrist and knee were throbbing, and his other muscles were trembling from the awkward effort. He found a spot where he could hang on without too much trouble and stopped to rest, listening for any sound from above.
At first there was nothing but the soft sound of the wind in the branches of the tree, but then he heard the unmistakable sound of pigeons screaming. Then the sound grew and grew, louder than he had ever heard it, and he lost his grip on the surface and slid back down to the bottom again, his claws scraping along the dirt and concrete all the way. The sound reached all the way down to him there, and mixed among the clattering commotion of pigeon sounds he heard the shrill squeal of frightened rats, and the next thing he knew, someone came crashing down the passage at top speed.
It was Arkon, and crashed past Torus in a furious whirl of fur and tail, nearly knocking him over, his eyes wide and frighteningly blank. After him came Flinka and Juke, both with the same wild nothingness in their eyes. Then Nevi came down, climbing, rather than half-falling, and although she was clearly alarmed, her eyes were sharp and clear.
“Run!” she said. “Too many!” She followed the others down the tunnel, with her cape flapping behind her.
Torus hesitated for a moment, confused by the sudden events and by the cacophonous noise that continued to flood his ears. Then he grabbed the straps to the sledge and started pulling it back toward the Clan’s territory. Behind him he heard someone come down the passage and run up toward him. Chello came past him, still carrying his knitting needle, his eyes full of rage and disappointment.
“Forget it!” he said. “Forget the sledge! Get back to the Clan!”
“What happened?” asked Torus, still pulling the sledge, struggling to keep up.
“Failed,” said Chello. “Too many of them. A dozen, at least!” He stopped and let Torus catch up. “I don’t understand it. There’s only ever been two or three before. How could there be so many? This is our time at the dumpster, right? At night? Why are there so many there?”
Torus didn’t have an answer, but before he could say so, a strange fluttering, scrambling noise came at them from the direction of the dumpster.
“Oh, scat!” said Chello.
“What? What is it?”
“Scat, scat, scat!” said Chello, nearly panicking. “They’re coming! Run!”
He grabbed the sledge’s straps from Torus, and then heaved the sledge sideways, wedging it between the walls of the tunnel. Then he took off running, with Torus on his heels, and the sound of fluttering, screaming pigeons seeming to gain on them every stop of the way. As he rounded a bend in the tunnel Torus glanced back and
saw two big pigeons flapping and squawking behind the sledge, trying to work their way past it, screaming at the rats and staring with their blank, yellow eyes.
Back at the entrance to the passage the group gathered to collect their nerves. Arkon was still shaking, and Flinka was trying to keep from crying. Juke was staring down the tunnel, apparently lost in thought. Torus was rubbing his sore wrist while Nevi and Chello argued about what had happened.
“I don’t know why there were so many,” she said. “Stop asking!”
“They must have known it’s a rest day,” he said. “That’s the only explanation. There’s never that many there this late. Someone told them there wouldn’t be any rats there tonight, so that’s why they’re there.” He turned away from her and gazed down the tunnel. “I think it was that cat.”
“No, he didn’t know anything about it,” said Nevi, exasperated. “Will you stop?”
“Maybe not,” said he replied darkly. “Maybe it’s not because of the rest day.” He turned back to the group, his eyes flashing. “Someone talked about the raid, right? And word got back to them!”
“Chello, stop it!” said Nevi. “You’re acting crazy! No one knew about it but us and Mr. Nile, and no one would talk about it outside the group. And we’re all here, except...”
She stopped and Chello glanced at her sharply.
“Except Pryus,” she finished quietly.
“No!” he snapped. “Not my brother. He’s no good, and he always runs from a fight, but he’s no snitch. He hates the birds as much as I do.”
“That’s what I’m saying,” Nevi stammered. “No one told them. It’s just bad luck, that’s all.”
Chello stared at her for a moment, and then shook his head, as if to clear it.
“Maybe you’re right,” he said. “But either way, our chance at a surprise attack it ruined now. They’ll probably have extra guards there all the time from now on.” He sat down and shook his head, discouraged.
“So, what happened up there?” asked Torus. “I couldn’t ever get up the passage, and I couldn’t hear much more than screaming birds.”
There was a short silence, and then Juke spoke.
“They were ready,” he said. “There were 14 of them, all eating food, and as soon as they saw us they came at us.”
He stopped and Nevi said, “How do you know how many there were?”
“I counted them,” he replied, still staring down the tunnel.
Chello looked at him suspiciously.
“Do you always count pigeons when they’re attacking you? Or did you already know how many would be there?”
“Chello, knock it off,” said Nevi. But she and the rest gazed at Juke with questioning silence.
He shifted uncomfortably and finally spoke.
“I count everything,” he said. “I’m not good at stuff. I can’t build things or make plans. But I can count things, and I always get it right. So, yeah, I counted them when we first came out of the tunnel, before they came at us and…” He trailed off and stared at the ground.
“I hate it,” said Flinka suddenly. “I hate that thing that happens. I can’t do it again…” she trailed off, her voice shaking.
“What is that, anyway?” said Chello, angrily. “What happens to us?”
“Did it happen to you, too?” asked Arkon.
Chello paused and thought for a moment.
“No, not really, not like last time. Maybe because I was so mad.”
“Me too,” said Nevi. “I mean, it didn’t happen to me, either. But they didn’t come at me right away. Maybe they didn’t see me…”
“Did you see them?” asked Chello. “Did you see who it was?”
Nevi shook her head.
“It was that one they call their King,” he said bitterly. “Him and those other two that always come along with him, and a bunch of others.”
Juke nodded. “Them and eleven others. All their leaders and captains.”
Chello squinted at Juke as if he was considering revising his opinion of him, and was about to speak when they heard a shout from far away inside the building.
“Flinka!”
“Oh, cheese, it’s my dad!” said Flinka. “What’s going on? Did we miss something?”
Flinka’s father rushed up, reviewing the group distrustfully. He was a smallish rat, his fur beginning to turn gray around his ears and muzzle. He went to Flinka and started pulling her away by the paw.
“Come on,” he said. “We have to go.”
“Go where?” she asked. “What’s happening?”
“You’re going home, and then I’m going to a gathering,” he said. He looked around at the others. “You pups had better get going too.”
“What gathering?” asked Flinka. “Why can’t I come, too?”
“I don’t know, it’s an emergency. Something happened and they’ve called an emergency gathering. I’d just feel better if you were at home with your mother and the pups.” He turned and pulled her away down the tunnel toward the center of the building. “You youngsters should go find your families. You don’t want to be out here on the edge if something happens…”
By that time, they had begun hearing other shouts, and the sound of many feet scampering in every direction. They hurried back toward the main tunnels and found the clan in a near panic. Parents were dashing back and forth looking for their pups, rats were calling for their mates, two or three small, lost pups were running in circles crying. Some of the Scouts and Patrol Officers were trying to calm things down, but others were caught up in the fear, and were just trying desperately to collect their families and get them safely home.
“What is it?” asked Nevi, clearly frightened. “Another fire? Poison gas?”
“I don’t know,” said Torus. “Do we go home or just go to the gathering place and look for our families there?”
“Well, I’m going home,” said Chello, “just to put Sticker away, and then I guess I should find Dumpish and figure out what Patrol is doing.”
Juke nodded and they headed off in different directions.
Arkon also turned to leave and said, “I’m going to go check on Mr. Nile. If we need to evacuate he’ll need more help than my folks will.”
A tiny pup ran past sobbing frantically, and Nevi put out a paw and stopped her gently.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I can’t find my mommy,” said the little rat, shaking.
“Don’t worry, I’ll help you,” said Nevi. “What’s her name?”
“Mommy,” she sniffled.
Nevi stifled a laugh, and said, “Okay, well, where do you live?”
“I don’t know,” said the pup, starting to cry again.
“No no no no no no,” said Nevi soothingly. “It’s okay. We’ll go to the meeting place and find her there, okay?” She took the little rat by the paw and led her away. She called to Torus over her shoulder.
“Find me after the gathering, okay?”
Torus nodded and headed off toward home to see if he could find his family. The rats in the clan were no longer running every which way, but were headed mostly toward the meeting place, so Torus struggled to keep going in the opposite direction. Soon, however, he heard Moki’s shrill voice above the noise and worked his way through the crowd to join his family.
“Oh, hi,” said his father. “Where have you been?”
“Nowhere,” said Torus, hoping he sounded convincing. “Just hanging around with a bunch of friends.”
“Okay. Do you have any idea what’s going on?” his father asked. “I was just at home with the pups and suddenly everyone’s in a panic and there’s an emergency gathering.”
“No,” said Torus, suddenly having a sick feeling in his stomach. “No idea at all…”
The gathering place was fuller than Torus had ever seen it before. He thought nearly every rat in the clan must be there, pups included. He saw many rats he d
idn’t recognize, and had difficulty finding any of his friends in the crowd. He found a spot with his family and looked toward the front of the room. The platform was empty, and it was too noisy to tell if there was any activity in the Chief’s hole in the wall behind it.
As it became clearer that the building was not on fire or being overrun by rabid cats, the crowd became less agitated and began wondering loudly what all the fuss was about. Then Nogolo emerged from the hole and climbed up onto the platform, waving his paws for silence. Gradually the noise subsided and Nogolo surveyed the crowd with a peculiar expression on his face. At last, he spoke.
“Friends, companions,” he said, “strange and unsettling events have occurred which make this gathering necessary. The…details are not yet clear, but apparently some rash actions on the part of a few reckless rats have threatened the peace of the entire Clan.”
There was a sudden flurry of motion in the Chief’s hole behind him and he turned around, startled. With an awkward fluttering, one of the Pigeon King’s attendants came bursting out of the hole, followed by Dinnick, who was saying “Wait! Wait?” The pigeon hopped up on the platform and waved away the obviously flustered Nogolo.
“No talk!” he exclaimed. “Rat talk not no talk no rat! Pigeon talk.” The rats in the gathering were stunned to silence. This bird stared at them with its strange eyes.
“Attack us rat,” it continued. “At food attack. This night rats. Attack. King attack Culucu King attack rat rat!”
“But I don’t understand,” said Nogolo. He tried to sound soothing, but the anxiety was plain in his face. “We are at peace. Why would we…disturb you while you dined?”
The pigeon turned to face him.
“Attack,” he said. “Attack rat. At food.”
“Perhaps it was rats from the park?” suggested Nogolo. “Or from another clan? You know the other clans are...somewhat uncomfortable with our...arangement”
“No!” came a voice from behind the platform. Slowly, and with a strange dignity, the Pigeon King stepped out of the Chief’s chamber and onto the platform, followed by the Chief himself.
“Other. Rat. No.” He was evidently working very hard to make himself understood. “This. Rat. Attack. Go. In. Hole. To. Here.”
“They attacked you and then fled down the tunnel to this building?” Nogolo asked. The Chief looked surprised to see him.
“Yes. Rat.” Said the king.
“Who was it?” asked Dinnick, nervously. “Can you name them? Do you see them?”
“No,” said the king. “All. Rat. Same. Look.”
“Well, we will get to the bottom of it,” said Nogolo, regaining his composure. “We can certainly find out who did this thing that threatens to break the peace we have worked so hard to build between us. And they will certainly be punished, as well. It does the clan no good to have wild members perpetrating such schemes!”
The Chief nodded gravely.
“Schemes,” he said, ominously.
“So let it be settled, then,” Nogolo continued. “We will resume our peace, and we will find a way to amend the slight that has – ”
“Yes yes yes!” cried the other pigeon. “Food food pigeon house no rat food pigeon house!”
“I beg your…” Nogolo stammered.
“Food. Now. Pigeon. Food,” the king said. “Rat. Not.”
Nogolo opened and closed his mouth silently as the meaning of the king’s words sank in.
“Park. Food. Pigeon. Only.” The king continued. “House. Top. House. Pigeon. House.”
“I…don’t…” said Nogolo, shaking his head.
“Do you mean the attic?” asked Dinnick. “The loft at the top of our building?”
“Yes,” said the king. “Top. House.”
“What’s he talking about?” Torus whispered to his father.
“It sound like the pigeons want to take over the dumpster,” Nolki replied. “And something about the attic…like they want to live in it or something.”
There was an angry murmur growing from the crowd. Torus felt a sudden lurch in his stomach as he remembered the wreckage of his flying machine he had left in the attic. What if the pigeons found it and confronted the leaders with it? If they traced the machine back to Torus and the others they would certainly be connected with the failed raid as well.
Nogolo seemed anxious, but he attempted to act amused as he replied to the king.
“No, I’m afraid that’s – ”
“Culuuu!” The king’s sudden piercing cry cut him off.
The other pigeon joined him, screaming “Culuuu, culuuu!” and within seconds pigeons began pouring through the broken window and flying around the room clattering and shrieking.
“Please, please,” shouted Nogolo above the din. “Please stop this! You’ll bring the humans with all this noise. Please stop and we will discuss it.”
“Culuuculuuucu!” cried the king, and within moments all the circling pigeons had found roosts at the top of the room, surrounding the crowd of rats and staring down at them with blank malevolence.
“Pigeon. Starve. Food. Need,” said the king, carefully. “Pigeon. Freeze. House. Need.”
“Yes, I see,” said Nogolo, “I understand.”
The king walked up to Nogolo and stared directly into his eyes. “Pigeon. Bring. Human.” Nogolo actually began to cower down in front of him. “Human. Kill. Rat.”
“Yes, yes…” Nogolo was practically whimpering. He turned away from the king and straightened up as well as he could, facing the crowd.
“My friends, my clan, this is most unfortunate, but what other choice do we have? We can get by with food from within the building for the time being, and the attic loft hasn’t been used by us for dozens of moons. Our very lives here are in jeopardy now. If the humans learn our numbers they will gas the building and any of us that survive will be forced out into the winter with nothing.” He looked out at them, his eyes traveling from face to face, pleading.
Torus looked at him and the Chief standing on the platform with the two pigeons, then up at the many birds perched along the shelves and exposed boards all around the room. He felt a sense of despair and failure, and anxiety about the future. He looked at his father and his eyes were hard, staring straight in the direction of the platform, but seemingly turned inward, lost in grim thought. All across the room he saw rats in the same dark mood, some angry, some frightened, but all tense and silent, waiting for the inevitable words they knew were to follow.
“Very well,” said Nogolo, sounding resigned, but relieved. “So it shall be.”
“Culuuu!” screamed the king’s attendant, and instantly all the pigeons assembled above the rats dove down upon them, flapping their wings wildly in their startled upturned faces. Torus was vaguely aware of a sudden surging panic in the crowd, and the beginning of a chaotic stampede, before the now-familiar blackness covered his mind and he was thrown into darkness.
* * *
Part III