he said. “Allies are all around you. You are protected—no matter what happens.”
The front door of the manor creaked opened, then closed with a heavy slam. Thicket and Stono began jumping as the horde erupted into thunderous noise. The swamp rats stomped their feet, climbing onto each other’s backs, trying to catch a peek of the commanding white rat, the one who would lead them to a wonderful new life.
Carn heard a high-pitched screech far above his head. He looked at the sky. It was Dresden calling to his colony. The bats swept in like tiny shadows, black spots against the moon, circling high over the feast—a clutch of vultures, waiting for their chance to pick at the bones.
Oleander grabbed Carn’s clammy paw and held it tight. Carn’s throat tightened as he beheld the White Assassin, lord of the swamp rats. Seeing that face, those eyes again, his skin turned a cold, dimpled gray. Vivid memories of Billycan crept into his head … terrifying memories.
“He’s just a rat,” whispered Mannux, “nothing more. You can prove that to yourself tonight once and for all. He holds no more power than you or I—as I said, just a rat.”
Taking in his swarm of devoted subjects, Billycan’s eyes flashed vaporous red in the firelight. His muzzle swelled into an eerily familiar leer.
Carn thought he might very well die of fright.
One by one the Council members were dropped onto the roof of the three-story manor. At one time or another the swamp rats had smashed nearly every pane of glass in the derelict mansion, making a silent entry through the round window of the attic effortless.
The Council weaved their way through the cluttered garret, which was filled with puzzling artifacts. Outlandish masks and ornate headdresses hung from the ceiling. Black velvet robes, turned gray with years of dust, lined the planked walls.
Once the attic was secure, Vincent, Victor, and Suttor immediately checked downstairs, while Ragan and Ulrich went back onto the roof, perching on opposite ends of the center gable. They sat motionless, like two stone gargoyles, observing the merriment below.
Juniper and Cole did a walk-through of the second level, making sure the manor was empty. They entered the last room on the second floor—the room where Billycan slept, which reeked of his mildewedscent. There was a musty mattress in the center of the room, covered in parchments. Juniper kept watch while Cole examined the documents.
“Juniper,” whispered Cole anxiously, “you need to get in here—now!”
“What is it?”
Cole motioned toward the papers with his spear. “See for yourself.”
Juniper inspected the documents. His mouth fell open in shock. They were detailed maps of Nightshade, down to the last corridor. Abruptly he thrust his spear through the papers, stabbing the mattress underneath. “Where could he have gotten these?” he demanded.
“The more important question is who he got them from,” said Cole. “No one but the Council knows of their existence. Who would betray us?”
“We don’t have time for speculation now. All the better that we are here to end this. Once he’s injected with the serum, we’ll find out who’s working with him.” Juniper grunted furiously. A traitor in Nightshade? It seemed unthinkable. “Destroy the documents,” he ordered. “Rip them to shreds. I’m going down to check on the boys.”
Juniper stormed out of the room and down the stairs. With every step he felt the weight of Trilok’s medal, banging against his chest. Running Nightshade City was hard enough, but this? “A traitor! Why? Why now? There is nothing to gain! We have given our citizens everything they could ever need! What more could they want?” Descending the stairs, he reminded himself that need was a far different thing from want. He ran his flared claws down the length of the wall, leaving a trail of deep grooves in his wake.
CHAPTER FIVE
A Stealer of Family
B ILLYCAN’S MOOD WAS HIGH . He and the
The front door of the manor creaked opened, then closed with a heavy slam. Thicket and Stono began jumping as the horde erupted into thunderous noise. The swamp rats stomped their feet, climbing onto each other’s backs, trying to catch a peek of the commanding white rat, the one who would lead them to a wonderful new life.
Carn heard a high-pitched screech far above his head. He looked at the sky. It was Dresden calling to his colony. The bats swept in like tiny shadows, black spots against the moon, circling high over the feast—a clutch of vultures, waiting for their chance to pick at the bones.
Oleander grabbed Carn’s clammy paw and held it tight. Carn’s throat tightened as he beheld the White Assassin, lord of the swamp rats. Seeing that face, those eyes again, his skin turned a cold, dimpled gray. Vivid memories of Billycan crept into his head … terrifying memories.
“He’s just a rat,” whispered Mannux, “nothing more. You can prove that to yourself tonight once and for all. He holds no more power than you or I—as I said, just a rat.”
Taking in his swarm of devoted subjects, Billycan’s eyes flashed vaporous red in the firelight. His muzzle swelled into an eerily familiar leer.
Carn thought he might very well die of fright.
One by one the Council members were dropped onto the roof of the three-story manor. At one time or another the swamp rats had smashed nearly every pane of glass in the derelict mansion, making a silent entry through the round window of the attic effortless.
The Council weaved their way through the cluttered garret, which was filled with puzzling artifacts. Outlandish masks and ornate headdresses hung from the ceiling. Black velvet robes, turned gray with years of dust, lined the planked walls.
Once the attic was secure, Vincent, Victor, and Suttor immediately checked downstairs, while Ragan and Ulrich went back onto the roof, perching on opposite ends of the center gable. They sat motionless, like two stone gargoyles, observing the merriment below.
Juniper and Cole did a walk-through of the second level, making sure the manor was empty. They entered the last room on the second floor—the room where Billycan slept, which reeked of his mildewedscent. There was a musty mattress in the center of the room, covered in parchments. Juniper kept watch while Cole examined the documents.
“Juniper,” whispered Cole anxiously, “you need to get in here—now!”
“What is it?”
Cole motioned toward the papers with his spear. “See for yourself.”
Juniper inspected the documents. His mouth fell open in shock. They were detailed maps of Nightshade, down to the last corridor. Abruptly he thrust his spear through the papers, stabbing the mattress underneath. “Where could he have gotten these?” he demanded.
“The more important question is who he got them from,” said Cole. “No one but the Council knows of their existence. Who would betray us?”
“We don’t have time for speculation now. All the better that we are here to end this. Once he’s injected with the serum, we’ll find out who’s working with him.” Juniper grunted furiously. A traitor in Nightshade? It seemed unthinkable. “Destroy the documents,” he ordered. “Rip them to shreds. I’m going down to check on the boys.”
Juniper stormed out of the room and down the stairs. With every step he felt the weight of Trilok’s medal, banging against his chest. Running Nightshade City was hard enough, but this? “A traitor! Why? Why now? There is nothing to gain! We have given our citizens everything they could ever need! What more could they want?” Descending the stairs, he reminded himself that need was a far different thing from want. He ran his flared claws down the length of the wall, leaving a trail of deep grooves in his wake.
CHAPTER FIVE
A Stealer of Family
B ILLYCAN’S MOOD WAS HIGH . He and the
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