Deltora Quest #3: City of the Rats (2 page)

C
rushed 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, oth
ers 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.

P
anting, chests aching, ears straining for the sound of howls behind them, they ran on. They all knew that if Ichabod changed into a wolf or other beast, he could catch them easily. But they heard nothing.

It is possible that he cannot transform when he is injured, thought Lief. If so, we are safe. But, like his companions, he did not dare to stop or slow.

Finally they came to a place where the track crossed a shallow stream.

“I am sure that this marks the border of Thaegan’s lands,” gasped Barda. “See? There are no thornbushes on the other side. Ichabod will not follow us across.”

Legs trembling with weariness, they splashed through the cold water. On the other side of the stream the track continued, but soft, green grass and
small trees grew beside it, and they could see the shapes of wildflowers.

They staggered on for a little, then turned from the track and fell down in the shelter of a grove of the small trees. Leaves whispering overhead, grass soft under their heads, they slept.

When they woke, the sun was high, and Kree was calling them. Lief stretched and yawned. His muscles were stiff and aching after the long run, and his feet were sore.

“We should have slept in turns,” Barda groaned, sitting up and easing his back. “It was dangerous to trust in our safety, so close to the border.”

“We were all tired. And Kree was watching.” Jasmine had jumped up, and was already prowling around the grove. She felt no stiffness, it seemed.

She put her hand to the rough trunk of one of the trees. Above her, leaves stirred faintly. She put her head to one side, and seemed to listen.

“The trees say that carts still use this road quite often,” she announced finally. “Heavy carts, drawn by horses. But there is nothing ahead today.”

Before starting off again, they ate a little of the bread, honey, and fruit that the Ralads had given them. Filli had his share, as well as a piece of honeycomb, his favorite treat.

Then they moved on slowly. After a time, they saw another of the signs directing them to Tom’s shop.

“I hope Tom sells something for sore feet,” muttered Lief.

“The sign says, ‘Everything for the Traveller,’” Barda said. “So no doubt he does. But we must choose only what we really need. We have little money.”

Jasmine glanced at them. She said nothing, but Lief noticed that she began to walk a little faster. Plainly, she was curious to see exactly what a shop was like.

An hour later they rounded a bend and saw, sticking up from the middle of a grove of trees, a long, jagged metal shape, like a lightning bolt. Huge metal letters stuck out from the side of the shape.

Wondering, they walked on. As they moved closer to the place they saw that the trees were in the shape of a horseshoe, clustering around the sides and back of a strange little stone building. The jagged shape supporting the metal letters plunged right into the middle of its peaked roof, as though the building were being struck by lightning.

Plainly, this was Tom’s shop, though at first glance it looked rather more like an inn than a place where things could be bought. There was a flat, cleared space between the building and the road — space enough for several carts to stop — and here and there stood great stone troughs filled with water for animals to drink. But a large shop window shone on one side of the door, and on the glass the shop owner’s name had been painted in bright red letters — arranged from top to bottom, like they were on the chimney sign and the signposts the travellers had passed.

“This Tom certainly likes to let people know his name.” Barda grinned. “Very well, then. Let us see what he has for us.”

They crossed the cleared space and peered into the shop window. It was filled with packs, hats, belts, boots, socks, waterbags, coats, ropes, pots and pans, and many, many other things, including some that Lief did not recognize. Strangely, there were no prices or labels, but right in the middle was a yellow sign.

A bell fastened to the door tinkled as they entered the shop, but no one came forward to greet them. They looked around, blinking in the gloom. The crowded room seemed very dim after the bright sunlight outside. Narrow corridors ran between shelves that rose from the floor to the low ceiling. The shelves were crammed with goods. At the far end was a dusty counter cluttered with account books, a set of scales, and what looked like a money tin. Behind the counter were more shelves, a door, and another sign:

“Tom is a trusting fellow,” Barda said, looking around. “Why, we could have come in here, stolen whatever we liked, and walked out again, by now.”

To prove his point, he reached for a small lantern on the shelf closest to him. When he tried to pick it up, however, the lantern would not move.

Barda’s jaw dropped in astonishment. He tugged, but without success. Finally, as Lief doubled up with laughter and Jasmine stared, he gave up. But when he tried to take his hand away from the lantern, he could not. He heaved, cursing, but his fingers were stuck fast.

“You want a lantern, friend?”

They all jumped violently and spun around. A tall, lean man with a hat on the back of his head was standing behind the counter, his arms folded and his wide mouth curved in a mocking smile.

“What
is
this?” shouted Barda angrily, jabbing his free hand at the lantern.

“It is proof that Tom is
not
a trusting fellow,” the man behind the counter said, his smile broadening. He put a long finger below the counter, and perhaps he pressed a button there, because suddenly Barda’s hand was released. He jerked backwards, bumping into Lief and Jasmine with some force.

“Now,” said the man behind the counter. “What can Tom show you? And more to the point, what can Tom
sell
you?” He rubbed his hands.

“We need a good length of strong rope,” said Lief, seeing that Barda was going to say nothing. “And also, something for sore feet, if you have it.”

“Have it?” cried Tom. “Of course I have it. Everything for the traveller. Did you not see the sign?”

He eased himself out from behind the counter and selected a coil of thin rope from a shelf.

“This is my very best,” he said. “Light, and very strong. Three silver coins, and it is yours.”

“Three silver coins for a piece of rope?” Barda exploded. “That is robbery!”

Tom’s smile did not waver. “Not robbery, friend, but business,” he said calmly. “For where else will you find a rope like this?”

Holding one end of the rope, he threw the rest upwards with a flick of his wrist. The rope uncoiled like a snake and wound itself tightly around one of the ceiling rafters. Tom pulled at it, to show its strength. Then he flicked his wrist again, and the rope unwrapped itself from the rafter and dropped back into his hands, winding itself up into a neat coil as it fell.

“Trickery,” growled Barda, glowering.

But Lief was fascinated. “We will take it,” he said excitedly, ignoring Barda’s elbow in his ribs, and Jasmine’s suspicious frown.

Tom rubbed his hands. “I knew you were a man who understood a bargain,” he said. “Now. What else might I show you? No obligation to buy!”

Lief looked around excitedly. If this shop had rope that acted as though it were alive, what other wonders might it hold?

“Everything!” he exclaimed. “We want to see everything!”

Tom beamed.

Jasmine moved uncomfortably. It was clear that she did not like the crowded shop, with its low ceiling, and she did not much like Tom, either. “Filli and I will wait outside with Kree,” she announced. She turned on her heel and left.

The next hour flew by as Tom showed Lief cushioned socks for sore feet, telescopes that saw around corners, plates that cleaned themselves, and pipes that blew bubbles of light. He showed machines to predict the weather, little white circles that looked like paper but swelled up to full-size loaves of bread when water was added, an axe that never blunted, a bedroll that floated off the ground, tiny beads that made fire, and a hundred more amazing inventions.

Slowly, Barda forgot his suspicion and began to watch, ask questions, and join in. By the time Tom had finished, he was quite won over, and as eager as Lief was to have as many of these marvels as they could afford. There were such wonderful things … things that would make their travels easier, safer, and more comfortable.

At last, Tom folded his arms and stood back, smiling at them. “So,” he said. “Tom has shown you. Now, what can he sell you?”