City of the Rats

Crushed together in the net, bundled so tightly that they could hardly move, Lief, Barda, and Jasmine swung sickeningly in midair. They were helpless. Their torches and weapons had flown from their hands as they were whipped off their feet. Kree swooped around them, screeching in despair.

The net was hanging from a tree growing by the side of the track. Unlike the other tree they had seen, it was alive. The branch that supported the net was thick and strong — too strong to break.

Below, wolf howls were changing to bellows of triumph. Lief looked down. In the light of the fallen torches he could see that the beasts’ bodies were bulging, transforming into humanlike forms.

In moments, eleven hideous, grinning creatures were capering on the track below the tree. Some were large, some were small. Some were covered in hair, others were completely bald. They were green, brown, yellow, sickly white — even slimy red. One had six stumpy legs. But Lief knew who they were.

They were the sorceress Thaegan’s children. He remembered the rhyme that listed their names.

Hot, Tot, Jin, Jod,

Fie, Fly, Zan, Zod,

Pik, Snik, Lun, Lod,

And the dreaded Ichabod.

Jin and Jod were dead — smothered in their own quicksand trap. Now only eleven of the thirteen remained. But they were all here. They had gathered together to hunt the enemies who had caused the deaths of their mother, brother, and sister. They wanted revenge.

Grunting and snuffling, some of the monsters were tearing thornbushes up by the roots and piling them beneath the swinging net. Others were picking up the torches and dancing around, chanting:

More heat, more heat,

Tender, juicy roast meat!

Watch the fun,

Till it’s done.

Hear its groans,

Crack its bones!

More heat, more heat,

Tender, juicy roast meat!

“They are going to burn us!” groaned Barda, struggling vainly. “Jasmine, your second dagger. Can you reach it?”

“Do you think that I would still be hanging here if I could?” Jasmine whispered back furiously.

The monsters below were cheering as they threw the torches onto the pile of thorns. Already Lief could feel warmth below him, and smell smoke. He knew that soon the green bushes would dry and catch alight. Then he and his friends would roast in the heat, and when the net burned through they would fall into the fire.

Something soft moved against Lief’s cheek. It was Filli. The little creature had managed to work his way off Jasmine’s shoulder and now was squeezing through the net right beside Lief’s ear.

He, at least, was free. But he did not run up the ropes and into the tree above, as Lief expected. Instead, he remained clinging to the net, nibbling at it desperately. Lief realized that he was going to try to make a hole big enough for them to climb through.

It was a brave effort, but how much time would it take for those tiny teeth to gnaw through such thick, strong netting? Too much time. Long before Filli had made even a small gap, the monsters below would notice what he was doing. Then they would drive him away, or kill him.

There was a howl of rage from the ground. Lief looked down in panic. Had their enemies caught sight of Filli already? No — they were not looking up. Instead, they were glaring at one another.

“Two legs for Ichabod!” the biggest one was roaring, beating his lumpy red chest. “Two legs and a head.”

“No! No!” two green creatures snarled, baring dripping brown teeth. “Not fair! Fie and Fly say no!”

“They are fighting over which parts of us they will eat!” exclaimed Barda. “Can you believe it?”

“Let them fight,” muttered Jasmine. “The more they fight, the more time Filli has to do his work.”

“We share the meat!” shrieked the two smallest monsters, their piercing voices rising above the noise of the others. “Hot and Tot say equal shares.”

Their brothers and sisters growled and muttered.

“Are they not stupid?” Lief shouted suddenly, pretending that he was talking to Barda and Jasmine. “Do they not know that they cannot have equal shares!”

“Lief, are you mad?” hissed Jasmine.

But Lief went on shouting. He could see that the monsters had grown still, and were listening. “There are three of us, and eleven of them!” he roared. “You cannot divide three fairly into eleven parts. It is impossible!”

He knew as well as Jasmine did that he was taking a risk. The monsters could look up at him, and see Filli at the same time. But he was gambling on the hope that suspicion and anger would make them keep their eyes fixed on one another.

And, to his relief, he saw that his gamble had succeeded. The monsters had begun muttering together in small groups, glancing slyly at one another.

“If they were nine only, they could cut each of us into three parts and have one part each,” he shouted. “But as it is …”

“Equal shares!” shrieked Hot and Tot. “Hot and Tot say —”

Ichabod pounced upon them and knocked their heads together with a sharp crack. They fell senseless to the ground.

“Now,” he snarled. “Now there be equal shares, like you want. Now we be nine.”

The fire had begun to blaze and crackle. Smoke billowed upwards, making Lief cough. He looked sideways and saw that Filli had already succeeded in making a small hole in the net. Now he was working on enlarging it. But he needed more time.

“There is something they have forgotten, Lief,” Barda said loudly. “If we are each divided into three, the shares will still not be equal. Why, I am twice the size of Jasmine! Whoever gets a third part of her will not do well at all. Really, she should be divided in half!”

“Yes,” agreed Lief, just as loudly, ignoring Jasmine’s cries of rage. “But that would only make eight pieces, Barda. And there are nine to feed!”

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Zan, the six-legged monster, nodded thoughtfully, then swung around and clubbed his neighbor, who happened to be Fie, felling her to the ground.

Fly, furious at the attack on his twin, leaped onto Zan’s back, screeching and biting. Zan roared, lurched around, and knocked over the hairy brother on his other side, who in turn fell over the sister in front of him, stabbing himself on her horns.

And then, suddenly, they were all fighting — shrieking, biting, and bashing — crashing into the thornbushes, tumbling into the fire, rolling on the ground.

The fight went on, and on. And by the time Filli had finished his work, and the three companions had escaped from the net and climbed into the tree above, there was only one monster left standing. Ichabod.

Surrounded by the bodies of his fallen brothers and sisters, he stood by the fire, bellowing and beating his chest in triumph. Any moment he would look up and see that the net was empty, and that the food he had fought for was in the tree — with nowhere to go.

“We must take him by surprise,” whispered Jasmine, pulling her second dagger from her leggings and checking that Filli was safely on her shoulder again. “It is the only way.”

Without another word, she jumped, striking Ichabod on the back with both feet. Knocked off balance, he fell into the fire, landing with a crash and a roar.

Gathering their wits, Barda and Lief slid down the tree as quickly as they could and ran to where Jasmine was snatching up her dagger and their swords.

“Why did you wait?” she demanded, thrusting their swords at them. “Make haste!”

With Kree soaring above, they ran like the wind along the track, careless of the ruts in the road and the darkness. Behind them, Ichabod was howling in rage and pain as he crawled from the fire and began stumbling after them.