The White Assassin (15 page)

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Authors: Hilary Wagner

BOOK: The White Assassin
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“You?” said Billycan in astonishment. “You’re the one who’s always staring at me.”

“Yes,” said the female. Using her claws, she fiddled with the latch on Billycan’s cage, swiftly opening it. “Ah, much easier from the outside,” she said. “I could never manage to unlock it from inside my cage.

“We have to get out of here before we’re recaptured. We’re going to have to jump to the floor. We won’t get hurt. I promise.” The female grabbed Billycan by the paw. Her skin felt warm. “Can you do it?”

“I can,” he said.

“All right, then. Let’s go!” She pulled him from his cage
and they plunged through the smoke and landed on the floor of the lab.

“Follow me,” she said.

“Why are you helping me?” he asked as they ran.

“It wouldn’t be right to leave you here all alone. We all deserve our freedom,” she replied.

“Well, thank you very much,” said Billycan.

“This way.” She nodded toward a window. Billycan watched as she leaped onto the sill. “Look here.” She reached under the metal handle, easily pulling the window open at the bottom, leaving just enough room for them to wriggle under.

Billycan jumped onto the sill and poked his head outside. The cool fall air blew through his fur, making his whiskers flutter. He closed his eyes for a moment, smelling peculiar scents and hearing sounds he’d never heard before.

The female watched him thoughtfully. “That feeling is the wind,” she said. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Yes,” replied Billycan, opening his eyes. He turned to her. He’d never been so close to another rat. He studied her. She had thick, wiry fur and bright yellow eyes. Not thinking, he reached out and touched her coat. It was far softer than it appeared.

She didn’t flinch or recoil; instead she moved a little closer to him. “We may look different,” she said, “but we’re much closer than you could ever imagine.” She sighed. “C’mon, then, the rat who’s late may wind up with a frightful fate.”

“What?”

She looked sweetly at him. “It’s just a little poem. It means it’s time to go.”

“Go where?”

“The Catacombs, my home.”

Billycan turned back to the desolate hallway. The lab was his home, but now he was saying good-bye to it forever. Would he miss it? He looked back outside and sucked in a deep breath of air. It smelled so strange. It didn’t smell of coffee or doughnuts. It didn’t smell of blue kibble. It didn’t smell of the foamy green fluid in his daily shots. Best of all, it didn’t smell of bleach. He looked at the female and smiled. She smiled back.

The pair jumped onto the fire escape and out into the cool Trillium night.

Texi couldn’t stop shaking. Elvi and Clover each held one of her paws.

Clover could feel Texi’s claws digging into her skin. Never had she seen her in such a state. “Texi, this is a
good
thing,” she said. “Now we don’t have to worry about him sneaking into Nightshade, taking his revenge.” She nodded at Julius, who was playing quietly by the fire with Nomi. “I know how much you adore little Julius. Now Billycan will never be able to harm him—never. True, he’s here in Nightshade, but he’s locked up tight. He can’t get near you.”

Texi looked at Elvi desperately. “How could you keep this from me?”

“Oh, darling, I didn’t want to frighten you. Please understand, we all thought it best to wait until he was captured. Then we could tell you together.”

“This changes everything,” said Texi. “Everything.”

Elvi cocked her head, studying Texi’s face. She gently patted her paw. “What does it change, darling? Tell us.”

“Nothing,” blurted Texi. “I’m … I’m just worried for Julius—for everyone. You don’t know what he’s really like … how cruel … how vicious.”

Mother Gallo brought over a handkerchief. “We all know, dear, we do, and Julius will be just fine. He is well protected. We are
all
well protected.”

Texi wrenched away from Clover and Elvi and seized the handkerchief, promptly burying her face in it. She whimpered softly, shaking. Clover looked worriedly at Mother Gallo and Elvi.

Juniper had called a secret meeting of the original Council members and those he was one hundred percent certain would never betray Nightshade.

“I knew she’d be upset,” said Clover, “but Texi’s reaction … she was so distraught. She seemed so frightened.”

“Texi is fragile,” said Juniper. “In some ways she was worse off than the rest of us in the Catacombs, dealing with Billycan and Killdeer day in and day out, always living in fear.”

“I saw it,” said Carn. “Billycan couldn’t stand her … and those sisters. Killdeer kept them well hidden. Texi was the only one I saw much of, which was fine by me; the sisters were as unsightly as they were cruel.” He cringed. “I heard them many times in the compound, shrieking like witches at her, always ordering her about and cursing her stupidity. I think she was more afraid of her sisters than of Killdeer or Billycan. They’d gang up on her. One time I saw her running from their quarters, crying. They accused her of purposely serving them cold stew, and called her an ungrateful, wicked sister.” Carn paused for a moment. “So they threw the stew at her. They were absolute monsters.”

“Bless the Saints,” said Mother Gallo. “I had no idea it was that awful. No wonder she reacted so strongly. He brings back all those terrible memories.”

“We’re all here for her,” said Ulrich. “She has us to lean on.”

“Agreed,” said Ragan, “and the best way to rally round her is to find this traitor. When whoever it is is behind bars for good, it’s sure to make her—well, all of us—more at ease. Ulrich, Carn, and I have been trying to narrow down the list of suspects.”

“Well, then,” said Juniper, “who are they?”

“Our sixth sense about these things, our knack for picking shady characters, doesn’t seem to be as effective as usual,” said Ulrich. “We’ve questioned all the new members, and not one stands out as our culprit.”

“Well, perhaps your sixth sense is fully intact and none of them is guilty,” said Juniper. “Perhaps it’s a citizen he recruited.”

“It’s possible, but I’ve a feeling it’s someone we know well. Someone with easy access to the Council Chamber and all it contains.”

“What about that quarrel between Burton and Oberon during the Council meeting?” asked Cole. “Could that have all been a cover, diverting our attention? Could they be working together?”

“We checked that out,” said Ragan. “Turns out there is bad blood between them, dating back to when they were school chums. Story as old as time—they were after the same girl. Burton claims Oberon stole her from him. Oberon claims he was the more handsome rat—not surprising, coming from him. We checked it out with some citizens, those who’ve known them all their lives. It’s all true. They’ve loathed each other ever since.”

“Moreover,” Ulrich added, “in the Catacombs the Kill Army majors were afraid of big Burton. Even back then, he made it clear that
he had no affection for the new High Ministry
or
its majors, and no one raised even an eyebrow—too afraid he’d use that right hook of his. He’s been ruled out. Oberon, on the other hand, will require further investigation.”

“What about Striker?” asked Juniper. “He was quite vocal at the Council meeting.”

“He’s been ruled out as well,” said Ragan. “He’s full of hot air at the Council meetings, a true blowhard as Vincent so eloquently put it, but he has no love for the former High Collector. You see, two of his grandsons were in the Kill Army—forced in, I should say. The High Ministry proclaimed that Striker was too old to be their guardian, and with nearly all his family drowned in the Great Flood, there was no one else to look after the boys. Then, when a tunnel in the Combs collapsed, the two boys were crushed to death.”

“I had no idea,” said Juniper. “Striker never talks about his family.”

“I knew about it,” said Mother Gallo, nodding sadly. “I was called to the scene just after it happened. You see … it was the same tragedy that took Mr. Gallo. As you can imagine, Striker was quite broken up.”

Juniper smiled faintly at this wife. “Clearly Striker is not our culprit.”

“What about Elvi?” asked Vincent, careful not to look at Clover.

“Yep, we spoke with her, too,” said Ulrich. “We questioned her for over an hour. None of us wanted to suspect the girl we all grew up with, but we grilled her, same as the others. She recounted her whole story. How she’d escaped the Catacombs on that boat with the others. It was pure luck that she found a boat coming back here. It was making its once-a-year run with Tosca’s only export—waterchip root. In a nutshell, she’d been in Tosca so long there’s no way she’d even know
Billycan, let alone be working with him. He was long gone before she ever found her way home to us.”

“But how do we know she’s been in Tosca all this time?” Vincent asked. “We’re only going by what she’s told us. We don’t have any hard facts.”

“How suspicious you are—a real detective if ever I saw one!” said Ulrich. “Are you sure you don’t want to join Nightshade’s security team? We could always use a fellow like you.”

Vincent blushed. He could feel Clover staring at him. “I was just wondering, is all,” he replied.

“And wonder you should,” said Ragan. “But I think we can trust she’s been in Tosca for at least a decade. Look at her skin, for one. She’s our age, but the sun has wrinkled the poor girl up like a raisin. That type of damage comes from exposure over a good part of a lifetime, Vincent.”

“Satisfied?” asked Clover, folding her arms in a huff. Vincent didn’t answer; instead he sank down in his seat and refused to look at her.

“Now, now, dear,” said Mother Gallo. “Whether we like it or not, everyone needs to be questioned. No special treatment for any of us—not Elvi, not anyone.”

“My wife is once again correct,” said Juniper, winking at her. “Now then, on to happier subjects. Carn, how goes it in the swamp?”

“Oleander says the snakes, for now in any case, have kept their word,” said Carn. “They have not crossed the plantation borders, and have let the horde journey into the swamp for food unharmed. Dresden’s colony is patrolling the area regularly. All seems well.”

Vincent elbowed Carn, snickering as he did so. “And how is Oleander?” he asked, with a devilish spark in his eyes.

Carn ignored his friend’s tone. “I don’t know firsthand, but
Telula and Cotton report that she’s doing just fine and sends us all her best.”

“You especially, I’m sure,” said Suttor, stretching over Clover and Vincent and playfully knocking Carn on the shoulder.

Carn glared crossly at them as Victor smirked and punched Carn’s other shoulder.

“You’re all positively juvenile!” hissed Carn, clearly aggravated. “Oleander has
no
interest in me, nor I her.” Carn’s skin turned red as a beet. His friends erupted in wild laughter.

“Don’t be angry with them, Carn,” said Juniper. “Your friends only want to see you happy.” He nodded to the older Council members. “Why, you should have heard these four teasing me back when I courted Maddy.”

“Yes,” said Cole, chuckling, “we were unrelenting, all in the name of love—and of taunting Juniper, of course!”

“Juniper’s right,” said Vincent. “No matter what you say, it was clear you and Oleander cared for each other. You should have asked her to come with us.”

Carn’s anger evaporated. His face suddenly fell. He looked down at the table. “I wanted to,” he said, “but it’s too … too painful.”

“Painful?” said Juniper, “I don’t understand—”

“Because she’s a
normal
rat! She won’t live as long as we. She’ll be dead before I even hit middle age.” Carn hit the table with his fist. “I couldn’t be with someone I’d lose just years after we started our life together.” Everyone was silent. “Sometimes I hate being from Trillium.”

“Carn, I apologize,” said Juniper. He looked around the room. “We all do. I suppose none of us had thought of that. It’s easy to forget other rats are different from us. We still don’t know why the
creatures of Trillium have been given so much more than others, but we’re learning.”

“Before all this nasty business with Billycan cropped up, we’d been doing research on the subject,” said Virden. “In the early days of Trillium City, back before it was even called Trillium, there was a colony of scientists who lived here. The ground underneath their feet, the ground we now live in, is in fact the crater of an ancient volcano. What the humans call mountains are the walls of the volcano.”

“Trillium City lies in the very core of it,” said Cole.

“You mean we live in the center of a
volcano?”
asked Vincent.

“Dead center,” said Cole.

“What was Trillium called when the scientists lived here?” asked Victor.

“Well, Cole and I did some digging Topside, a scavenger hunt so to speak, and we discovered an old journal from one of these scientists,” said Virden. “It was stored in the archives of the City Museum. Cole came across it when we were searching for any information on Trillium rats—a history, perhaps. The diary reported a flammable mineral on the shores of Hellgate Sea, not far from here, with much higher quantities of this mineral here in Trillium—reportedly a result of the volcano.”

“So, what was this mineral?” asked Vincent.

“Brimstone,” said Juniper. “According to the diary, we lived in the core of the extinct volcano for hundreds of years. All of Trillium’s creatures were entirely secluded—trapped in our own little world, untouched by the elements outside it. It wasn’t until scientists discovered us that we found out we were so far advanced compared to our more worldly counterparts.”

“But how did they find us way down at the bottom of a volcano?”

“They stumbled upon a small city. An aboveground city. A rat-made city.”

Cole and Juniper sat just outside Billycan’s cell, watching him sleep. His memory should have returned by now, but so far he still had no recollection of most of his past—or so he claimed—and he still displayed almost childlike mannerisms. It was strange.

“I don’t know how much longer we can put them off,” said Juniper. “I don’t like lying.”

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