Nightshade City (16 page)

He dropped Clover on her feet. She raced back into her quarters like a frightened rabbit. Billycan slammed the door behind her. His nostrils flared. He pointed a long, jagged digit at Killdeer, poking him hard in the chest. “What were you thinking?” he screamed. “Your subjects distrust you already. Such folly has brought down many an empire!”

Ignoring Billycan, Killdeer brushed the dirt from his coat and
lumbered back towards his den. Billycan shadowed him. “A new High Duchess,” he mumbled. “Billycan thinks not.”

Clover leaned against the door, listening. They had departed. She slid to the ground as her heart slowed to a normal beat. She took off the jewelry, throwing it across the room. She pulled the pink sash over her head and set it on her lap. She turned the frock inside out, pulling out the razor blade she had hidden in the folds, which she was about to wield when Billycan came to her aid.

Since he could not protect her at all times, Juniper had trained his niece to slit a throat, but she was not eager to take a life, not even Killdeer’s. A moment later and he would have been dead, bleeding out on the dirt floor of her quarters. She had Billycan to thank for saving her from that. How odd.

Ragan’s Loyalist informant from inside the Combs said something was afoot, but he could get nothing from the sector majors, who were ordered to keep their mouths shut. All he could tell Ragan was that Catacomb security had doubled in all sectors and the Combs were on lockdown until further notice. No rat was allowed in or out without direct authorization from Billycan.

Virden and Ulrich returned to Nightshade Passage after tracking down Oard. Oard told them if someone could get to Clover’s quarters in time and pound out the signal, they could dig a corridor from Nightshade City directly underneath. Virden calculated the time of the dig. He surmised that the rats and the earthworms could get the job done shortly before the Grand Speech, giving Clover just enough time for safe passage to Nightshade. The worms would stay after the rats departed, swiftly backfilling the hole—leaving the Ministry yet again clueless as to how its subjects were escaping.

Someone had to get to Clover as soon as possible. The vibrations had to start within the next few hours, or there would not be enough time. Juniper turned to Mother Gallo, his expression one of desperation. “Maddy, I need your help. I need you to go back to the Combs. If you can get to Clover’s quarters and make the signal for Oard and his tribe, we may have a fighting chance. With your Ministry position, I fear you’re the only one who can reenter the Combs safely. Will you do this for me?”

“Juniper, this is why I have come. I am here to help and do whatever you require.”

“I thank you, Maddy. When we break through, you
must
go down the tunnel with us. You can live in Nightshade, never having to work for the Ministry again.”

“I have three little boys at home. What shall I do with them?”

“You must all come to Nightshade,” Juniper declared. He wanted Mother Gallo with him. He couldn’t lose her a second time. His life was filled with regrets, but if he could rectify this one, perhaps his biggest regret of all, he could get part of his past back, part of the life he had before the Coup—before Billycan.

“I gladly accept your offer.” She smiled. “We would be honored to come to Nightshade when the time is right.”

“Maddy, Nightshade would be honored to have you.” He gave a gentlemanly bow of his head. “Speaking of Nightshade.…” He looked over at the boys. “Vincent, Victor, come spare a few moments for Miss Bostwick.” The boys had been sitting at the table with Cole, who’d been explaining a map of the Catacombs to them. He showed them how Nightshade’s new corridors were silently intertwining with the Catacombs’. The brothers came over and stood next to Juniper, one on each side.

Mother Gallo needed to correct Juniper out of respect for her dead
husband. “It’s Gallo now, Juniper, not Bostwick. Everyone calls me Mother Gallo. I know it’s a little old-fashioned, but it does me just fine.”

“I think it suits you well,” said Juniper. “May I still call you Maddy?”

“Yes, of course you may.” She giggled.

“Well, boys, it’s my pleasure to introduce Mother Gallo.” He put a shaggy arm around each boy. “Mother Gallo, this is Vincent Nightshade and Victor, his younger brother, the only two survivors of the Nightshade Clan, the sons of Julius, to be exact, and recent escapees of the Catacombs.”

“As I live and breathe,” she exclaimed in astonishment, “I can’t believe my eyes. All this time, and I had no idea you two were in the Combs. I knew you had gone missing during the flood. I heard you two were never found. If only I had known. I could have helped you.”

“It’s all right,” said Vincent. “We purposefully kept to ourselves, trying to go unnoticed, avoiding trouble—and the majors.”

“Smart, like your father,” said Mother Gallo. “Just look at you.” She grabbed Vincent’s chin with her paw, turning his head from side to side, as if examining a fresh piece of produce. “Why, you’re the spitting image of him. And look at those emerald eyes. You’ll have all the girls flocking to you with those sparklers!” Vincent grinned shyly. “I knew your father well. He loved you children very much. And you, Victor, you have that same spark that Julius did. Your father always had that buzz about him that drew others to him. Use it wisely, my boy. It’s a powerful gift.” The boys smiled, pleased to know they each shared something of Julius.

“All right, then, everyone pay attention!” said Juniper. The Council and the others gathered round their leader. “Virden, I need you to teach Mother Gallo the vibration to signal the earthworms. She must be on her way back to the Combs without delay. Ulrich and Ragan,
Vincent and Victor, I want you four to lead the dig to Clover’s quarters. We can get a good start before the worms arrive. Start in the corridor leading up to the Combs. Cole, show them on the map where they need to start digging and which direction to follow. The last thing we need is a tunnel to collapse, killing the lot of us. Cole and I will solidify the details of the maneuver. Everyone, we must hurry. I
won’t
be the last of my clan. This
cannot
be the ending.”

Everyone separated as instructed and got to their tasks. Juniper stood over the maps and blueprints Cole had laid out, scratching around the empty socket of his eye. His mounting anxiety caused him to perspire, irritating the scars under the patch. He always worked best under strain, but never had that strain been so dear to his heart.

Not looking up from the table, Cole spoke in a steady voice as they studied the maps. “Juniper, don’t you worry,” he said quietly. “You won’t be the last of the Belancort Clan. There will be
no
ending tonight.”

Virden worked with Mother Gallo on the signal for the earthworms. “Now, Maddy,” he said, “you remember that ghoulish old tune from our childhood, ‘The Feast of Batiste’?”

“Oh, dear,” said Mother Gallo. “That ghastly rhyme, how could I forget? Why on earth did you choose something so morbid?”

Virden laughed. “I chose it merely because it’s lively, clever, and simple to recall, although it did scare the tar out of me as a boy. My father told me if I didn’t keep up with my studies, Batiste would get me! Needless to say, I learned my ABCs on the double—best in my class. I could never forget that grisly jingle.”

“Nor could I,” said Mother Gallo. “The ghostly rat named Batiste, who haunts the Catacombs, playing deadly tricks on its residents—positively chilling.” She remembered the gruesome song well.

Batiste was killed on Hallowtide Night, while searching Topside for sweet delight.

Batiste was killed at quarter past three, while searching for food in the Battery.

Now he is lonely, now he is dead, now he pennies-and-pranks for your tail and your head!

Virden gave Mother Gallo a heavy wooden mallet to pound out the song with. It seemed to pierce the soil the deepest, and the earthworms heard it sooner than other tools they’d tried. “Don’t worry about hitting the dry ground of the Combs,” he told her. “The worms will hear the sound, but rats cannot. The ground will absorb it, sending the signal directly to Oard’s tribe.”

The time for the dig to commence had arrived. The two sets of brothers, Vincent and Victor, Ragan and Ulrich, were ready to lead the dig. The excavation would start in Nightshade Passage’s unfinished corridor, which led up to the Catacombs. They would begin digging through the east wall of the incomplete tunnel. Going by Virden’s maps and word from Oard’s tribesmen, Cole showed the foursome where to best initiate the dig to avoid a deadly cave-in.

Vincent dove in first, swiftly burrowing through Nightshade’s soft, healthy soil. Victor followed his brother’s lead, pulling out mounds of dirt, gouging into the earth with his claws. Using their hind legs, Ragan and Ulrich started kicking the upturned soil down the length of the corridor at breakneck speed. More rats were positioned at the entrance, lined up with several wheelbarrows, ready to remove the earth from the corridor.

For now the digging was effortless, the soil in Nightshade fresh and pliable. Much of the upturned earth could be pressed into the walls, helping to shape the newly formed corridor. The dirt of the
Catacombs was dry and powdery, useless for rebuilding. Most of it would need to be removed, a time-consuming process. More teams of rats would soon join them to help in the effort. It would be a long, dirty dig.

As the excavation progressed, Ragan and Ulrich’s slate-blue coats became solidly blackened with dirt, making it hard to tell the team of four apart, barring Vincent’s green eyes and Ulrich’s stubby tail.

Virden brought Mother Gallo back to Juniper for further instruction. “Well, Juniper, I think our pupil knows what she’s doing,” Virden told him.

“She always was a sharp one,” said Juniper.

Virden, much larger than Mother Gallo, bent down and took her paw in his, patting it gently. “Maddy, I’m sure the Saints will guide you safely back to the Combs and then back to us.”

“Of course they will,” she said. “How else am I to take part in one of your memorable Oshi toasts?”

“It’s so good to have you back,” he said with a smile. With a quick bow of his head, Virden left her and Juniper alone.

She looked over the room with everyone working feverishly. “Juniper, you have a good group here. You should be proud of all this, your Council, your city—it’s quite an accomplishment.”

“I’m afraid we’re not finished yet. You’re right, though, I’ve been blessed in my friendships. There’s not a bad apple in the bunch.” Juniper exhaled heavily. He smiled briefly, trying to hide his dread. “Now, Maddy, may I suggest an escort back to Ashbury Lane? I think it would be best.”

She adjusted her sash as she prepared for her departure. “I’m not as worried about my well-being as I am of getting out of that house. It’s built like a stronghold, a far cry from the ramshackle apartments in the Battery District.”

“Don’t worry too much about that. This Topside family seems to go in and out at all hours, always with one errand or another.” Juniper looked at the hourglass again. “You shouldn’t have much trouble, but I would feel better if someone escorted you, at least until you arrive at the earthworms’ corridor. I would go myself, but I can’t risk the time away from the dig. I’ll send Cole or Virden with you.”

“I can handle myself Topside, and I doubt you can spare either of them. I’m not that silly girl you remember. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll always be that silly girl to me,” he said tenderly.

“Juniper, I’m a mother and a godmother. I can take care of myself—always have.”

He chuckled as he inspected her sash adorned with needles and scissors. “All right, then, Maddy, you win. Off you go! Here is my satchel.” He gently put it over her head.

She examined the ragged leather bag, a gift she had made for him. “I can’t believe you kept this. It’s practically falling to pieces—are you still so sentimental about this old thing?”

“You gave it to me. I’ll wear it till it turns to dust! You can put that cumbersome mallet inside, and please take something to eat. I don’t want you wasting away on me.” He smiled at her. “Please be careful. I need to see you again.”

She took his paw, squeezing it tight. “Now, Juniper, you’ll see me and that girl of yours soon—not to worry.”

She grabbed a few chunks of cheese and put them in the satchel. The bag felt comforting across her frame, easily molding to her form. Its weathered exterior and fusty scent matched its owner, as if Juniper were traveling with her the whole way. She turned to go. Juniper abruptly grabbed her, and pulling her close, he embraced her firmly.
She smelled his fur, burying her head in his shoulder. Neither uttered a word.

She pulled away and headed up the corridor back into the house on Ashbury Lane. Juniper watched as she faded into the dark.

Mother Gallo galloped most of the way Topside, reentering the brownstone through Juniper’s hole, and back into the art studio. Catching her breath, she scaled up the arm of a wing chair and looked out the window onto the lane. It couldn’t be too late in the evening, as cars were whizzing down the residential street, so she surmised she had made good time.

She scurried over to the door, the same one she’d squeezed under earlier. Noises came from the other side, thunderous crashes and booms, intermixed with shouting. Her heart raced for a moment before she realized that the clamor came from a television. She laughed. She had forgotten about Topsiders and their televisions.

She peered under the door. She couldn’t see any Topsiders in the darkened hallway. As she scanned what she could see of the family room, she quickly spotted a tuft of red hair hanging off the couch, nearly touching the floor. She strained to see more, fearing it might be a tabby or even a red collie, but to her relief the hair belonged to a small Topsider. She could see its freckled forehead and its blue eyes, staring at the television—upside down. She remembered the Topside man from last night and his wave of ruby hair.
Must be his child,
she thought.

The child’s head sank closer to the floor. He watched cartoons, hanging upside down on the couch, his face getting ruddier with each passing second.