Nightshade City (33 page)

Vincent yelled to his brother, trying to rouse him. “Victor!” he pleaded. “Victor! Wake up, please! Look at him—Victor, look!”

Victor finally heard his brother’s calls. He stopped punching. He looked down at Vincent, still clutching the silver chain. He looked at Killdeer, unrecognizable, a mess of blood and bruises. The great rat did not move—his face expressionless and his eyes dull.

“It’s over, Victor. It’s over. He’s gone.”

Victor wrenched his bloodied claws from Killdeer’s neck. He threw himself backwards onto the bar top and lay flat on his back, looking up at the tavern’s stained ceiling. Blood seeped from his ear. “Vincent,” he said as his eyes started to close, “Vincent, we won.”

A pack of sector majors, including Lithgo, had escaped Topside. Foiber and Schnauss, too old to put up much of a fight, had been captured along with over two hundred sector majors, all now shackled and being led back to Nightshade’s detention corridor. Their fates were yet to be decided.

Very few soldiers fought against the Nightshade rats; those who did were killed or maimed in the mayhem. Although many Nightshade rats were bruised and scratched and a few seriously injured, not one had lost his life. Juniper’s original theory rang true. The Kill Army was no army at all, merely a pack of lost boys. After the Kill Army leaders had been captured, many of the former soldiers excitedly ran back to their barracks, collecting the few possessions they had, ready to start a new life in Nightshade.

Billycan sat tethered to his chair, still sitting atop the stage. Cole, Virden, Suttor, and several other rats guarded the High Collector,
encircling him like a gang of vultures, not daring to let him out of their sights.

Billycan stayed silent, all four paws, even his tail, securely bound. He did not try to break free. What was the point? He did not yell out in rage, nor did he spit profanities. He did not scream treason in the name of the High Ministry or the Kill Army. He did not even acknowledge the Nightshade rats. He did nothing. Billycan slumped back in his chair, a bored expression on his face. His reign was over. He hoped Juniper would have enough hatred to put him to death, but he suspected that would not be the case. Juniper and his accursed goodness would not feel justified in killing even him, the rat who most undoubtedly deserved that fate.

Billycan had never been afraid to die. He didn’t believe in the Saints. He didn’t believe he would rise above the clouds of Trillium, going to some brilliant world in the afterlife, nor plummet down to a hellfire pit deep within the underworld. Dead was dead. As he sat on the stage, watching the surreal scene, he couldn’t even pray for death. Since he had no faith in the Saints, praying would be utterly ridiculous. He laughed at the idea.

In spite of his hatred for Juniper, Billycan respected the rat. He knew Juniper would have him imprisoned in a tiny cell till the end of his days, a much greater punishment than the finality of death. Billycan had to agree with the theory, although he enjoyed killing too much to follow the practice. As he sat thinking, ignoring the happy clamoring of the Nightshade rats and the newly freed Kill Army soldiers and Catacomb subjects, he noticed the mood had unexpectedly changed.

The hall had fallen totally silent. No one moved. Every rat, friend or foe, stood stiff, looking towards the red carpet bordering the front of the stage.

Vincent and Victor trudged in front of the stage, dragging what
looked like a possum behind them. But it was no possum. Billycan watched as the two black rats each dragged a foot of the bloodied and bloated High Minister.

Billycan tilted his head in curiosity, examining the oddity, his leader, his comrade, the reason all
this
had started—dead. It was time, he thought to himself, and better by their claws than his. Killdeer’s eyes were lackluster—staring up at him vacantly.
So many vices,
he thought. Killdeer’s pitiful self-indulgences, drink, food, females, his inflated ego, his brazen vanity. Killdeer spoke of the Saints, but Billycan never knew if he truly believed in them—in their retribution for sins. For Killdeer’s sake, they had best not exist.

Juniper came forward. Both boys were crusted with dried blood. They looked down at the ground.

Juniper finally spoke. “Boys, are you all right?” He inspected Vincent, then Victor, examining the blood that had erupted from his ear. “Thank the Saints you’re both alive,” he said, holding Victor’s head and tilting it back. “Virden, come and look at this ear.” Virden jumped off the stage and took Victor to a nearby chair.

Juniper studied Vincent’s grim face. “Vincent, what happened? What led to this?”

“Victor found out what really happened to our family, that Killdeer had ordered their deaths, and went mad with grief. Like some sort of switch had been pulled. I got between them before Killdeer could … ”

Juniper put his paws on Vincent’s shoulders and looked into his eyes. “I see,” he said. “Vincent, I’m sorry it was left to you and your brother, but there has to be a reason for this. There always is. I don’t think the Saints would have had it any other way.”

“I suppose you’re right,” said Vincent, “but I should have told Victor the truth sooner. Then maybe he wouldn’t—”

Juniper would not allow him to finish. He spoke firmly. “I
know
I’m right. You did no wrong. All your life you’ve protected your brother—just as you did tonight. You are true of heart, no shame in that. You are not to blame for this outcome. Justice comes in many forms.”

Vincent exhaled, smiling a little, relieved it was over, relieved by Juniper’s words. Walking over to Killdeer’s body, Vincent knelt down and released the silver chain from the deceased Minister’s neck. “Here,” he said, handing it to Juniper. “I think this belongs to you now.”

Victor called from his chair. “Juniper, put it on!”

Cole nodded in agreement from atop the stage. “They’re right, old friend. Put it on.”

Everyone stared at Juniper, holding the weighty medallion in his paws. He looked around Catacomb Hall, then hesitantly put the chain over his head. The medallion rested comfortably on his chest. It felt strange.

Juniper looked out at all the anxious faces. He stood in front of Killdeer. His voice ripped through the silent hall. “The Ministry is no more! Everyone—you are free!”

Thousands of voices thundered in Catacomb Hall. Rats chanted and stomped.

“Juniper!” shouted Cole from the stage, his alarmed voice cutting through the clamor. Juniper looked up at the stage. “Juniper, he’s gone!”

The white rat had disappeared.

I
T WAS SAINTS’ DAY
. Bostwick Hall was full and then some. Mother Gallo and Clover directed everyone to seats and tables as several large rats brought out platters filled with piping-hot sausages, dried beef, and mushroom stew. Lali dashed around at her usual pace, placing baskets of her bitonberry muffins and butter biscuits on every table, specifically requested by Juniper and Vincent.

Juniper, Vincent, and Victor sat at the center table along with Suttor, Carn, and the Council. Ulrich had broken his arm in two places when a frightened soldier bashed him with a wooden chair. Lali made sure he had an extra mug of ale to ease the pain. Suttor’s little brothers and Mother Gallo’s boys sat at a smaller table right next to them. They kept staring over at the older boys, awed by their brave efforts.

The new young residents of Nightshade City sat with their friends, laughing and joking like children, not soldiers. The freed Catacomb rats were quickly adjusting to their new surroundings. As
the generous portions of food and ale were being passed around, it was hard to fathom a life of plenty, a life without ever having to pay Stipend again. It was like waking from a long nightmare.

Juniper looked down at his chest, still feeling the weight of Trilok’s medal. He picked it up and turned it towards him. He looked at Duchess Nomi’s face. It made him think of Maddy. He scanned the room, spotting her as she passed out muffins to a table brimming with little girls, once slaves to the Ministry, now just girls, giggling and playfully teasing one another. He smiled as he watched Maddy laugh merrily, walking round the table. Soon, he thought, soon he would have an important question for her.

Vincent and Victor looked at each other and grinned. Victor nudged Vincent on the arm as he caught him staring at Clover, who smiled back as she refilled mugs of ale.

Victor whispered to Vincent. “Do you think now’s a good time?”

“As good a time as any,” replied Vincent, setting down his third muffin.

Vincent brushed the crumbs from his paws and climbed atop his seat. Victor clanked his mug against his plate, signaling for attention. The room quieted. Vincent spoke. “New citizens of Nightshade City, may I have a brief moment of your time?”

Juniper looked up from his plate, and Vincent gave him a wink. Juniper glanced across the table at Cole, who shrugged his shoulders in bewilderment.

“Now, then,” said Vincent, “it has recently come to my and my brother’s attention that we have just become an extremely large city.” The hall quaked with laughter. “We are a new city, a thriving city, yet still a city without a proper leader. At least,” Vincent said, looking down at Juniper, “officially. That being said, my brother and I have
come up with a suggestion. A suggestion we were hoping you can all adopt or reject this very moment. We think we need some
elected
officials—no more self-proclaimed High Ministers. Victor and I would like to officially nominate Juniper Belancort and Cole Kingston to lead us as Chief Citizen and Deputy Chief Citizen of Nightshade City!”

The hall rumbled with applause. “All right, then,” shouted Vincent, “are there any more nominations?” The room hushed. Vincent waited patiently, but no one spoke. “Then let’s put this to a vote. Everyone in favor, stand now!” Every rat got up from his or her chair or stool and stood in silence, looking round the hall, searching for anyone who was not on his feet. The old ones, too aged to stand, held up their paws in endorsement. Victor and Suttor joined Vincent atop their chairs, inspecting the room for anyone still sitting. The only ones not voting were the two dazed nominees.

“It’s unanimous!” yelled Vincent. “Congratulations, Chief Citizen Juniper and Deputy Chief Cole!” The hall exploded with noise. Juniper and Cole stood up from the table as well-wishers came in droves to hug them and shake their paws.

Juniper pulled Vincent down from his chair and put his arm around him. “You,” he said to Vincent, “you will one day lead this city, and you will lead it well. I have no doubt.”

“Thanks to you, my father’s dream has been realized,” said Vincent. “As for myself, maybe one day I
will
lead this city, but for now, there’s much I need to learn—from you.”

Smiling, Juniper patted Vincent’s back. “Then I’m glad to teach it, son.”

Mother Gallo rushed up to Juniper. “I’m so pleased for you!” she said.

Juniper pulled her near. “Be pleased for
us,
Maddy. We couldn’t have succeeded without you.”

Lali ran over to Cole, kissing and hugging her husband till he was dizzy.

Clover crept up behind Vincent and kissed him on the cheek. “You are a brave rat,” she whispered. Vincent’s head started to spin and his chest began to ache. He grabbed the edge of his chair so as not to stumble in front of her, and gazed at her with a silly grin.

Virden suddenly jumped onto the table, rattling the utensils. “Silence, everyone, silence!” The commotion was quickly brought to a standstill, and all eyes stared up at Virden. “Now, let’s do this by the book, shall we?” Virden held up his glass of Oshi. “Let us toast this momentous night—this Saints’ Day is a day of jubilation for those of us here and for all those long departed. May our brave new city honor their memory and may we, their heirs, now hold our heads high once more. To Nightshade!”

Glasses clinked and clanked. Everyone toasted in unison, “To Nightshade!”

“Now,” said Virden, his face aglow, “let’s celebrate!”

As the clamor and laughter resumed, Vincent turned back to Clover. “Clover,” he whispered in her ear, “you kissed me!”