“Darktan checks every step,” said Peaches.

“Something's wrong,” said Dangerous Beans. His nose wrinkled.

A rat scurried down the tunnel and pushed frantically past them.

Dangerous Beans sniffed the air. “Fear,” he said.

Three more rats scrambled past, knocking him over.

“What's happening?” said Peaches, as another rat spun her around in its effort to get past. It squeaked at her and rushed on.

“That was Finest,” she said. “Why didn't she say anything?”

“More… fear,” said Dangerous Beans. “They're… scared. Terrified…”

Toxie tried to stop the next rat. It bit him, and ran on, chittering.

“We must go back,” said Peaches urgently. “What've they found up there? Maybe it's a ferret!”

“Can't be!” said Toxie. “Hamnpork killed a ferret once!”

Three more rats ran past, trailing fear behind them. One of them squealed at Peaches, gibbered madly at Dangerous Beans and ran on.

“They… they've forgotten how to talk…” whispered Dangerous Beans.

“Something terrible must have frightened them!” said Peaches, snatching up her notes.

“They've never been that frightened!” said Toxie. “Remember when that dog found us? We were all frightened but we talked and we trapped it and Hamnpork saw it off whimpering…”

To her shock, Peaches saw that Dangerous Beans was crying. “They've forgotten how to talk.”

Half a dozen more rats pushed their way past, screeching. Peaches tried to stop one, but it just squeaked at her and dodged out of the way.

“That was Feedsfour!” she said, turning to Toxie. “I was talking to her only an hour ago! She… Toxie?”

Toxic's fur was bristling. His eyes were unfocused. His mouth was open, showing his teeth. He stared at her, or right through her, and then turned and ran.

She turned and put her paws around Dangerous Beans, as the fear swept over them.

There were rats. From wall to wall, floor to ceiling, there were rats. The cages were crammed full of them; they clung to the wire in front, and to the ceilings. The netting strained with the weight. Glistening bodies boiled and tumbled, paws and noses thrusting through the holes. The air was solid with squeaking and rustling and chittering, and it stank.

What was left of Hamnpork's exploration party were clustered in the middle of the room. Most of it had fled by now. If the smells in that room had been sounds, they would have been shouts and screams, thousands of them. They filled the long room with a strange kind of pressure. Even Maurice could feel it, as soon as Keith broke down the door. It was like a headache outside your head, trying to get in. It banged on the ears.

Maurice was staying a little way behind. You didn't need to be very clever to see that this was a bad situation and one which might need some running away from at any time.

He saw, between their legs, Darktan and Hamnpork and a few other Changelings. They were in the middle of the floor, looking up at the cages.

He was amazed to see that even Hamnpork was trembling. But he was trembling with rage.

“Let them out!” he shouted up to Keith. “Let them all out! Let them all out now!

Another talking rat?” said Malicia.

Let them out!” Hamnpork screamed.

“All these foul cages…” said Malicia, staring.

“I did say about the wire netting,” said Keith. “Look, you can see where it's been repaired… they gnawed through wire to escape!”

“I said let them out!” screamed Hamnpork. “Let them out or I will kill you! Evil! Evil! Evil!”

“But they're just rats—” said Malicia.

Hamnpork leapt and landed on the girl's dress. He swarmed up towards her neck. She froze. He hissed, “There are rats eating one another in there! I will gnaw you, you evil—”

Keith's hand grasped him firmly around the waist and pulled him off her neck.

Screeching, hair bristling, Hamnpork sunk his teeth into Keith's finger.

Malicia gasped. Even Maurice winced.

Hamnpork drew his head back, blood dripping from his muzzle, and blinked in horror.

Tears welled up in Keith's eyes. Very carefully, he put Hamnpork down on the floor. “It's the smell,” he said, quietly. “It upsets them.”

“I… I thought you said they were tame!” said Malicia, able to speak at last. She picked up a lump of wood that was leaning against the cages.

Keith knocked it out of her hand. “Never, ever threaten one of us!”

“He attacked you!”

“Look around! This is not a story! This is real! Do you understand? They're frightened out of their minds!”

“How dare you talk to me like that!” Malicia shouted.

“I rrkrkrk will!”

“One of us, eh? Was that a rat swearword? Do you even swear in Rat, rat boy?”

Just like cats, Maurice thought. You stand face to face and scream at one another. His ears swivelled as he heard another sound, in the distance. Someone was coming down the ladder. Maurice knew from experience that this was no time to talk to humans. They always said things like “What?” and “That's not right!” or “Where?”

“Get out of here right now,” he said, as he ran past Darktan. “Don't get human about it, just run!”

And that was quite enough heroism, he decided. It didn't pay to let other people actually slow you down.

There was a rusty old drain set in the wall. He skidded on the slimy floor as he changed direction, and there, yes, was a Maurice-sized hole where a bar had rusted clean away. Paws scrabbling for speed, he darted through the hole just as the rat-catchers entered the room of cages. Then, safe in the darkness, he turned around and peered out.

Time to check. Was Maurice safe? All legs present? Tail? Yes. Good.

He could see Darktan tugging at Hamnpork, who seemed to have frozen on the spot, the others scuttling towards another drain in the opposite wall. They moved unsteadily. That's what happens when you let yourself go, Maurice thought. They thought they'd got educated, but in a tight corner a rat is just a rat.

Now me, I'm different. Brain functioning perfectly at all times. Always on the lookout. On the case and sniffing bottom.

The caged rats were making a din. Keith and the story-telling girl were watching the rat-catchers in amazement. The rat-catchers weren't unamazed, either.

On the floor, Darktan gave up trying to get Hamnpork to move. He drew his sword, looked up at the humans, hesitated, and then ran for the drain.

Yes, let them sort it out. They're all human, Maurice thought. They've got big brains, they can talk, it should be no problem at all.

Hah! Tell them a story, story-telling girl!

Rat-catcher 1 stared at Malicia and Keith. “What're you doing here, miss?” he said, his voice creaking with suspicion.

“Playing Mummies and Daddies?” said Rat-catcher 2 cheerfully.

“You broke into our shed,” said Rat-catcher 1. “That's called ‘breaking in’, that is!”

“You've been stealing, yes, stealing food and blaming it on rats!” snapped Malicia. “And why have you got all these rats caged up in here? And what about the aglets, eh? Surprised, eh? Didn't think anyone would notice them, eh?”

“Aglets?” said Rat-catcher 1, his brow wrinkling.

“The little bits on the end of bootlaces,” mumbled Keith.

Rat-catcher 1 spun around. “You bloody idiot, Bill! I said we had enough real ones! I told you someone would notice! Didn't I tell you someone would notice? Someone has noticed!”

“Yes, don't think you've got away with anything!” said Malicia. Her eyes were gleaming. “I know you're only the humorous thugs. One big fat one, one thin one—it's obvious! So who's the big boss?”

Rat-catcher 1's eyes glazed slightly, as they often did when Malicia talked at people. He waved a fat finger at her. “You know what your father's been and gone and done just now?” he said.


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