PathFinder (28 page)

The lead Garmin stopped and looked down at Stanley. Morris held his breath – surely a fat, elderly rat pottering along the street was not worth bothering about? He watched the Garmin’s bright yellow eyes follow Stanley’s unsteady progress, its head to one side as if deciding what to do.

Morris could watch no longer. He broke cover. Hurtling towards Stanley across the street, he saw the yellow eyes of the three Garmin latch on to him. “Run, Dadso,
run
!” Morris squealed high and shrill in rat-squeak. Stanley looked around, puzzled. He saw Morris racing towards him and then, at last, he saw the terrifying white shapes above. He saw the red open mouth of the nearest snakehead; he saw its long black tongue flick out, dripping thick saliva on to Morris’s shiny young coat, and then he saw its head dart down to snap up its victim.

Stanley forgot his Bumblefoot, forgot his creaking joints and his aching back and he leaped into the air, squealing, biting, kicking, punching out at the monstrous snakehead that was heading for his son. And somehow, Stanley got it right. His clenched paw hit the pale spot between the Garmin’s slit-like nostrils and the creature reeled back in silent pain. Stanley grabbed hold of the scruff of Morris’s neck, pushed him into the mouth of the drainpipe and kept right on pushing (much helped by the slime covering Morris’s coat) until he was certain they were out of reach of any questing snake tongue or stabbing claws.

The two rats lay exhausted and trembling in the drainpipe. After some minutes Morris croaked, “Thanks, Dadso.”

“’S’all right, son,” mumbled Stanley. He got to his feet with a groan. “Right,” he said. “Let’s get going. Mustn’t keep Her Maj waiting. What is it I always say?”

“I dunno. Er … Pass the biscuits?”

“No, son.
Nothing stops a Message Rat
.”

Message Received

Stanley and Morris emerged
from beneath the washbasin in one of the Palace cloakrooms off the Long Walk. With some difficulty, Stanley squeezed out through a hole gnawed in the bottom of the door and Morris easily followed. Stanley hobbled and Morris walked alongside him, and together they progressed down the Long Walk, Morris wide-eyed, staring at all the treasures glittering in the light of fat candles placed in the alcoves. The young rat had never been inside the Palace and he felt quite overawed. Eventually Stanley took a left turn and Morris followed him into a tall entrance hall with a grand staircase winding up to a gallery above. To their left was a line of little red and gold chairs ranged along the wall beside the old wooden Palace doors, and Stanley limped across to these. Above the chair nearest the doors was a brass sign, which read:
Reserved for Message Rat
. Beside it was a small set of steps. Wear­­ily, Stanley climbed the steps and plonked himself down on the chair.

“Ring the bell, Morris,” Stanley said, pointing to a long red-cord bellpull beside the chair. “Just to let Her Maj know we’re here.”

Morris saw the Queen come hurrying around the corner, red robes flying. With her came a young man, who the rat recognised as Simon Heap, the Deputy Castle Alchemist. Morris scuttled under the chair. He watched the Queen’s sens­ible brown boots run across the chequered floor and stop right beside him, the heavy gold hem of her dress brushing against his tail.

On the chair above, Stanley struggled to sit up. “Message Rat reporting for duty, Your Majesty,” he wheezed.

“About time,” Jenna said crossly. “Stanley, where have you been?”

“So sorry, Your Maj. Had a bit of trouble,” Stanley replied weakly.

Jenna’s expression softened. “Stanley, you don’t look well,” she said. “Not well at all.”

“Possibly not,” Stanley agreed. Now he had got to his destination, he felt like a wet rag.

From beneath the chair Morris was shocked at how weak his father sounded. He knew what he had to do. He scampered up the steps – much to Jenna’s surprise – and jumped on to the Message Rat chair. Then he stood up on his hind legs, took a deep breath and began to squeak, “Your Majesty, I am the Deputy Message Rat on this mission. I am a Chartered Confidential Rat and I am at your service. Please state your message, its destination and recipient.”

Jenna and Simon scrutinised the young rat. Despite its strange appearance – it was covered in strings of sticky white stuff – they could tell that it was squeaking in a purposeful way.

“Tell it the
Speeke
,” said Simon.

Jenna nodded. She looked Morris in the eye and said,
“Speeke, Rattus Rattus.”

At the sound of the
Speeke
, a swarm of goosebumps ran over Morris, sending the hairs on the scruff of his neck standing up on end. He took a big breath and repeated what he had squeaked. This time the Queen understood.

“Your destination is the Wizard Tower,” she told him. “The recipient of your message is the ExtraOrdinary Wizard, Septimus Heap. Message begins: Septimus,
Activate
the Castle
Alert
. Extreme danger. Please be present for Queen’s Crisis Council at the Palace at six tomorrow morning. Jenna.”

Morris’s jaw dropped. He caught Stanley’s disapproving glance and shut his mouth at once – a Message Rat must show no reaction to a message, whatever its content. He waited until he was sure the Queen had finished and then said, “Message received and understood, Your Majesty.”

Stanley watched Morris hop down and scurry away into the Long Walk. He felt proud of his ratlet – but frightened for him too. He struggled to his painful feet and the next thing he knew, he had been scooped up and cradled in the Queen’s arms. “But you, Stanley,” she told him firmly, “are not going anywhere. I will make you up a bed by the fire.” Stanley closed his eyes in utter bliss. If he died now, he thought, he would be happy.

“I’ll be off now,” Simon said.

“It’s dangerous out there, Si.” Jenna sounded worried. “Stay here the night.”

“Thank you, Jen,” Simon said, “but I must get back to Lucy.” He lowered his voice. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. There are a few
Darke
tricks I have up my sleeve.”

“Simon!” Jenna sounded shocked.

“Needs must,” said Simon. Careful not to squash the rat, he gave her a hug. “I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

“Give Lucy my love,” Jenna said. “Tell her we’re going to get William back.”

“I will.” Simon headed for the Palace doors, where the ghost of a one-armed knight who guarded the door saluted smartly. “Good luck, Heap,” he said.

“Thank you, Sir Hereward,” Simon replied as he let himself out into the night. “I’m going to need it.”

Morris

Of all Stanley’s four foster ratlets
, Morris knew the Castle the best. As soon as the ratlets had been old enough to go off on their own, Stanley had given each one a map and told them to run the Castle until they knew the place with their eyes closed. Morris had been the only one to do this literally. It had earned him a few bumps and bruises, but now his hard work had paid off. Scurrying through pipes, over rooftops, along the tops of walls and even, at one point, hurtling down a playground helter-skelter, Morris made his way steadily towards the Wizard Tower. The rat-runs kept him safe, but not all of them joined up, and every now and then Morris was forced out into the open. He was crossing the mouth of Measel’s Ope, which, like all alleys that led off Wizard Way, was lit at its entrance by two large lanterns, and was running through the pool of light when he smelled snake and dead dog.

Morris was so scared that he didn’t know where his feet were. He stared at the huge white shape that loomed out of the mist above him. He saw the flat snakehead dart down and as the cavern of the mouth loomed over him, Morris let out a high-pitched rat scream. The Garmin flinched – the creatures had sensitive ears – and its mouth snapped shut and Morris felt a terrible pain. And then he was free, running, running, running across the alley, diving into the pipe in the wall that went through to the Wizard Tower courtyard. Morris felt light-headed with excitement as he realised he had escaped, that he would be able to deliver his first, and probably his most import­­­ant, message ever. He reached the foot of one of the massive buttresses of the Wizard Tower and scrambled into the rat tube. The tube was steep and winding and as he clambered up it, Morris began to feel oddly tired. He forced himself on and at last pushed open the rat flap and fell out into the fuzz of night-time lights of the Great Hall. Morris was far too dizzy to notice that the floor of the Wizard Tower was flashing on and off with the words:
Message Rat
!
Message Rat
!
Message Rat
!
He got to his feet and leaned against the wall, his head spinning.

In the distance Morris saw blurry figures in blue looming above. He heard a voice say, “Yuck – look at the blood.”

Another said, “Quick, pick it up and get the message. Before it’s too late.”

“
You
pick it up,” was the reply.

Someone grabbed his scruff between finger and thumb and Morris found himself being lifted dizzyingly high into an achingly bright light. A face not bothering to conceal an expression of disgust loomed in at him and a booming voice filled his ears.
“Speeke, Rattus Rattus.”

With a huge effort, Morris
Spoke
. “First, I have to ask, are you Septimus Heap, ExtraOrdinary Wizard?”

The person holding him turned around and Morris felt the world spin out of control. “Get the EOW!” his holder yelled. “Fast, before the rat pegs it.”

Morris was floating. Sparkling lights spun around his head, fuzzy noise filled his ears and then, after what seemed to him to be many hours later, something purple filled the space in front of him. A voice from far, far away said, “I am Septimus Heap: ExtraOrdinary Wizard. What is your message?”

Gathering all his remaining strength, Morris
Spoke
. Then, message delivered, Morris collapsed.

In a lonely window in the Rat Office, three young rats stared out into the night. The distant tinny chimes of the Drapers Yard Clock drifted through the still night air.
Ting …
Ting …
Ting
.

“Something awful has happened,” said Florence. “I just know it.”

Florence

Tod was woken just before
dawn by an upside-down rat banging outside on the porthole. She thought she was still dreaming, but Nicko’s voice told her otherwise.

“Morning, Tod! Welcome to the Castle communication system,” he said. “You’ve got a Message Rat. Come up on deck.”

Tod tumbled out of her bunk and scrambled up the ladder. A small brown rat was shivering and looking anxiously at the Night Ullr, who was sitting on guard in the prow.

“You have to say,
‘Speeke, Rattus Rattus’
,” Nicko told Tod. “Then it will tell you the message.”

“It
talks
?” Tod was amazed.

“Message Rats do, yes. In fact, some Message Rats never
stop
talking,” Nicko said with a smile.

Tod was intrigued.
“Speeke, Rattus Rattus,”
she said.

The rat spoke in a thin, high voice. “First, I have to ask, are you Alice TodHunter Moon?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Ask it what the message is,” said Nicko.

“What is your message, please?” said Tod.

“Message begins: Alice, there is a Queen’s Crisis Council meeting at the Palace at six this morning. I know you want to go home, but because of your knowledge of the Garmin, the Queen wishes you to be there. Alice, please do go. Ask Nicko and Snorri to take you. And, oh, Alice, I would be so happy if you would reconsider your decision to leave. Your homesickness will pass and there is so much for you here. You have great
Magykal
potential. And I will miss you very much. Love, Dandra. Message ends.”

Tod was more than a little relieved at the message. After her bad attack of homesickness the previous day in the Wizard Tower, she had been surprised when Nicko and Snorri had agreed to take her home so soon. She had then spent the evening on the
Adventurer
feeling sad about leaving Dandra Draa. Tod had hardly slept that night, she had felt so wretched. It seemed that wherever she lived now she would be missing people she loved. By the early hours of the morning, Tod had realised that she wanted to stay with Dandra – all she had needed to know was that she could go home if she wanted to. “Thank you very much,” she happily told the rat.

“You’re welcome,” the rat replied. It lingered uncertainly. “Excuse me,” it squeaked. “I hope you don’t mind. This is not part of the message and I know that I shouldn’t really use the
Speeke
for anything else but … oh
dear
.” The rat sat down and put its paws over its face.

Tod kneeled down beside it. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

“Something awful has happened to my brother. And my dad. They went to the Palace on a message last night and they never came back. Please, please, could you ask the Palace people if they know what happened?”