by Alyssa Moon
Delphine tiptoed from one tapestry to the next, studying the twelve mysterious mice who made up the Threaded. She drew out the needle from her bag and compared it to the ones held by the mice of legend. She could see instantly that it was the same size, same shape of the eye, similar runes on the shafts.
Her ears trembled in disbelief, but it was undeniable. She held a needle of the Threaded in her paws.
She looked at Alexander. “If it were polished and gleaming . . . it would be identical.”
Alexander nodded. He had been standing silently beside her. Now he leaned over and rubbed a paw on the dull surface, but the tarnish remained, ancient and stubborn, like storm clouds frozen in time on the once-silver surface.
Delphine moved to the tapestry closest to the window, hoping to catch some starlight in the dark room. Just then, the clouds parted. A thin moonbeam shone down directly onto the needle in her paws. In an instant, the metal went from ice-cold to positively hot in her grasp.
“What—” She nearly dropped it. “It burned me!”
Alexander reached out curiously, then pulled his paw back, staring at her with an odd expression. “My lady . . . it’s freezing.”
The clouds drew back still farther, and as more of the light from the full moon spilled down onto the needle, it almost seemed to tingle in her paws. Was that the right word? Just the slightest sensation, but she could feel it if she concentrated.
The last wisp of clouds vanished from the face of the moon, and its light poured into the room, washing over the needle. As it did, the tarnish began to fade, like breath disappearing from a mirror. The engravings were becoming more and more visible. But just as suddenly as it had started, the magic stopped, leaving only a small patch of the needle glowing bright and silver. The rest was as dull and cloudy as it had always been.
Shocked, Delphine gazed down at the needle. It lay quiet in her paws, with one small silver area now gleaming in the full moonlight. The few symbols that had been revealed looked more like animals than letters, curled in on themselves. They were masterfully engraved into the surface of the needle, almost as if the silver had simply melted and re-formed into those shapes. But the metal felt cold once more.
Something was tingling again, a strange, fizzy feeling inside her head.
She looked up to see Alexander staring at her, slack-jawed.
“Your whiskers,” he barely breathed.
Then Delphine realized there was a shimmer in the corners of her vision, little prickles of light.
Her whiskers, her strange gray whiskers, were turning to silver, starting at the tips and radiating inward like arcs of light being drawn in the air.
In a moment, they were shining as brightly as the silvery patch of metal under her paw.
IN A DARK ROOM STOOD a dark throne, a twisted, broken throne, cobbled together from bits and pieces of scrap over long years of waiting. On the throne sat a rat, biding his time. He stared into emptiness, his face covered in scars. Ears notched, snout askew, eyes burning black with hatred. A rat so huge that he could have fought a fox and won. He had waited this long. He could wait a bit longer.
His guards patrolled the fortress. Prisoners wept in their cells far below. Time ceased to have any meaning. He would wait until he could wait no more.
Then the clouds outside rolled back from the face of the full moon. In that instant, a burst of pain shot through him, searing his scars. He leapt up in agony, eyes rolling in his head, lips pulled back in a horrible grimace.
In another instant, the pain was gone, leaving him with only one thought:
It has been found.
“Then this truly was a needle of the Threaded,” Delphine said to Alexander as they headed back through the grime and stench of the lower tunnels. “But how did it make its way to me? Did whoever left it with me at the château even know what it truly was?”
They crossed up from the tunnels back into the abandoned wing, heading down the human hallway. Their paws trod silently on the moldering carpet of centuries past as Delphine carried on.
“The answers have to be out there somewhere. Alexander, this is really happening! I finally have a clue to where I came from! Don’t you see? I can’t believe this!” Her voice echoed in the cavernous human hallway.
Alexander laughed nervously, looking around. The massive drapes on either side of the cracked oil paintings hung motionless. “It’s wonderful, my lady, it is, but please, let us speak quietly until we reach safe ground.”
She nodded distractedly. “Of course.”
The bridge out of the abandoned wing was just ahead. They tiptoed another few paces, but Delphine just couldn’t help herself.
“And my whiskers!” she whispered loudly. “How did that happen? I’ve had gray whiskers since I was a pinkie mouse, Maman tells me so. This needle must truly have powers! Could that be? Could such things be real?”
Alexander shot out a paw in front of Delphine in warning, but it was too late. The drapes ahead began to twitch. With a terrible hiss, one rat and then another and another came surging out from behind the fabric. The two mice spun around to see even more rats coming toward them from behind.
“Run!” screamed Alexander. Delphine nearly tumbled over her own paws, but managed to scramble forward, still clutching the needle tightly. It glittered in the dim light as they ran.
She could feel the hot, rank breath of the rats on her tail. She sprinted faster, gasping, and then threw herself through the entrance to the old bridge.
It had been designed to only hold a mouse’s weight, Alexander had assured her, but it suddenly seemed far too sturdy as they rushed across. The guards on the far side, used to having the most uneventful post in the castle, looked up astonished as the two mice ran toward them at full speed.
“Rats!” Alexander squeaked as they reached the guards.
Delphine could now hear the rats snarling on the other side of the bridge, but Alexander had stopped running entirely.
“They’ll never come over here,” Alexander panted. “It’s all in the treaty.”
But the bridge was starting to sway. Fangs dripping, the rats had begun to climb across. The fragile structure buckled under their weight, but still they pressed on.
“Invasion!” cried one of the guards. He smashed his armored fist against the bell hanging alongside the archway. The old metal clattered, shaking off the hundred years of dust and cobwebs that clung to it.
The other guard had taken hold of his halberd, shifting his weight nervously from paw to paw. A third guard entered through the archway from the castle proper, slamming down the visor on her helmet. She gave a guttural roar and charged out onto the ledge, pointing her halberd directly at the oncoming rats.
The rats snarled and froze, but Delphine could see more skittering along the underside of the bridge, climbing upside down, horrible grins spreading across their faces.
“It’s not supposed to bear their weight!” cried Alexander. “They’re going to make it across!”
One particularly vile-looking rat was perched on the top of the bridge, a dirty cap hanging askew from one ear. He turned and screeched at the rest of his troops. “Get that needle!”
The words hung in the air, and the mouse guards redoubled their grips on their weapons.
The needle? Delphine thought wildly. Why do they want my needle?
“Get that needle!” the rat cried out again. “And kill that filthy mouse who holds it!”
Delphine’s blood ran cold as the rat leapt into the air, propelling himself toward the far ledge with such force that he landed on top of several incoming mouse guards. He rose back up, kicking them to either side, spittle flying from his jowls as he snarled. “Onward!”
The bridge began splintering as more rats threw themselves onto it. Several had already reached the near side and were crawling up over the ledge.
Delphine screamed and fled into the now-crowded hallway, Alexander racing behind her. It seemed the sound of the old alarm bell had thrown the cast
le into an uproar, mice squeaking madly to one another.
“They’ve crossed the bridge!”
“They’ve broken the treaty!”
Delphine and Alexander suddenly heard a horrible crash behind them, followed by terrified howls.
“The bridge!” cried Alexander. “It’s finally fallen!” He glanced over his shoulder and froze.
Delphine looked back to see that a group of rats had shoved past the guard mice. They were climbing over the other mice, but they weren’t fighting. Nor were they attacking any of the other castle residents, who were running madly in every direction.
They were heading straight for Delphine.
She turned and sprinted full-tilt, knowing even as she did that it was no use. On open ground, rats could run faster than mice. Of all the things she had been taught over the years in avoiding the perils of rats, that was always the number one thing to remember. Outmaneuver them. Outclimb them. But never try to outrun them.
Delphine spotted the dumbwaiters ahead. It was risky, but anything was better than being torn to pieces by rats. She leapt into the nearest one, Alexander following behind her.
“This is a bad idea!” he shouted, but Delphine had already unhooked the pacing rope.
In the next instant, the bottom dropped out from under them with a sickening shock as the dumbwaiter fell like a stone. The wind blew fiercely in their whiskers, floor after floor of the castle speeding past them. Then the bottom of the shaft came into view. Stones flew up at them, and they landed with a thump.
Delphine squeaked loudly and rolled out of the basket, heading toward the nearest door. Alexander rushed behind her, fumbling with his scabbard. “Delphine! What’s so special about that needle? They haven’t broken the treaty and crossed the bridge in a hundred years!”
From above came the clatter of claws on stone. The rats were climbing down the shaft’s walls, straight toward her.
“I have no idea!” Delphine reached the door and seized the latch, yanking it open. She found herself back in the huge hall where she had first arrived.
A sudden deep booming sound shook the entire hall around them. The castle’s clock tower was beginning to strike midnight.
She broke into a run, heading toward the exit to the courtyard. She was a mere tail’s-length away when a sleek-furred rat leapt in front of her with a snarl. She froze, heart thumping wildly. She had never been this close to a rat before.
Turning, Delphine ran back into the sea of mice. She dashed through an archway to find a little side door, its hinges nearly rusted shut. Delphine slammed her shoulder against the wood, Alexander doing the same beside her, until the rust groaned and the door swung open into the stable courtyard.
A forest of horses’ legs, stamping and tromping, stretched out before them. Coaches rolled past as human coachmen with their massive boots clomped back and forth. Out here, the striking of the clock tower was even louder.
Alexander scanned the courtyard. “We can get back inside over there.”
Delphine looked to where Alexander pointed, seeing nothing but the stone walls, massive barrels, and horses with their terrifying hooves.
Then a high keening sound cut through all the roar of the courtyard.
Delphine spun around, her blood running cold.
The first of the rats had emerged through the door. It peeled back its lips and made the same high keening cry again, like the wail of a banshee.
It was calling its companions.
Delphine scampered up the side of a pile of house-size crates, claws digging furiously into the wood, Alexander climbing alongside her. Another sonorous boom came from the clock tower. She cast about desperately for anything that could help them. Then she noticed a curious sight.
A silvery coach, round like a pumpkin and sparkling in the moonlight, had just pulled away from the front steps of the castle and was heading toward the gates. Maybe, just maybe, if they timed their leap perfectly . . .
She scrambled to the top of the crates, jammed the needle through several layers of her skirt fabric, and turned to find that Alexander had fallen behind. The bloodthirsty creatures were gaining on him. Delphine panicked. As much of a fop as he was, she wouldn’t leave anyone to the rats.
Suddenly, Delphine remembered the rats’ curious behavior in the hallway, shoving past the guards, ignoring the other mice. They were focused solely on her.
And the needle.
Perhaps she could save herself and Alexander at the same time.
The silver coach approached, its horses so close she could smell their warm, sweet breath as they clip-clopped by. She had only one chance. She didn’t dare look down, didn’t dare think of what would happen if she missed. As the coach drew alongside the crates, she gathered all her strength and leapt.
She flailed madly, reaching out with all four paws. Her tail thrashed as she smashed into the side of the coach and slid downward, but she managed to grab on to the gilded paneling of the door.
“Delphine!” came a frantic cry.
She gazed back to see Alexander at the top of the crate stack, staring at her in horror.
Yet her gamble had paid off. The rats were turning in midstream, no longer heading toward Alexander and the pile, but across the courtyard toward the speeding coach.
“Wait! Stop!” New voices entered the scene as dozens of humans spilled down the front steps of the castle. Human guards on horseback suddenly appeared from around the corner in pursuit of the coach. She watched in horror as the rats leapt at them, clawing their way up the horses’ flanks as they whinnied in pain. Now the rats were riding the horses.
The coach passed through the castle gates just as the clock struck yet again. As they careened down the road, Delphine gripped the paneling with all her strength. The coach raced on, dashing across the bridge and over cobblestones. But when Delphine glanced back, the human guards on horseback were still just behind . . . and that meant so were the rats.
There came a cry over the howl of the wind. She looked down at the coach runners below.
“Delphine!”
It was Alexander, hanging on to one of the filigreed loops that sprouted up from the carriage wheels. “Just hold on!”
“I am!” she yelled back, but her words were swallowed up in the din.
Another hairpin turn, and the coach went up onto two wheels. Delphine screamed and buried her snout in her cloak. The coach crashed back down onto all four wheels and sped onward.
A distant bell toll came floating faintly through the cold night air. It was the last stroke of midnight. The door panel beneath Delphine’s paws gave a sudden wriggle, like a dog shaking off a flea. She startled but managed to keep her grip. Then there was another tremor, even more pronounced. She stared at the silver trim—was it fading away before her eyes? The panel shuddered once more and then vanished entirely, leaving nothing but the smooth side of the coach, now a strange silvery orange. She shrieked, falling backward, thrashing madly. She heard Alexander call out in surprise as she landed with a thud in a pile of dandelions. A moment later, she heard another thud nearby.
What happened to the coach? Delphine’s head was spinning, but she knew the only thing that mattered now was getting out of sight. She pushed herself up just in time to see the coach disappear around another bend in the road, decorative spirals coming loose and flapping wildly as it went.
Hearing the other horses’ hooves thundering up the road, Delphine ducked back down behind the dandelions, watching them ride past. Many had rats still clinging to their saddles. She shuddered.
When she was certain that the last horse had passed, Delphine carefully made her way toward where she had heard the other thump. Sure enough, there was Alexander, heading in her direction. She sighed in relief. Anything would be better than being stranded out here on her own in the middle of the night.
But before she could ask him if he was all right, he swept into an elaborate bow. “I’m here to save you,” Alexander announced with a flourish of his cloak. “I b
ravely leapt onto the coach so that I could take you back to safety. I knew you would need me.”
Ugh. His pomposity was too much to bear.
She turned away from him, scanning what lay beyond the road. Nothing but dark forest, as far as the eye could see. An owl hooted in the distance.
Alexander now reappeared in her view. “My lady . . . may I assist you?”
“I’m going to go find a safe place to wait for morning,” she huffed, stalking away.
“Good plan, my lady!”
Hearing him running to catch up, she sighed and continued deeper into the forest, away from the road. The horses would be heading back to the castle at some point, and she didn’t want to be there when they went past with their rat stowaways.
Delphine chose a safe-looking pile of leaves and burrowed in deep until she was completely hidden and relatively warm. She had no idea what sorts of predators might be lurking in addition to the owl she had heard, but she didn’t want to take any chances. Then she peered out of her makeshift nest to see Alexander standing in front of it, paw on his sword.
Delphine stared at him. After a few minutes, his chin drooped slowly but he continued to stand doggedly upright.
“Why don’t you get some sleep, too?” she asked finally.
Alexander shook his head. “I shall stand guard all night, my lady,” he replied, still gazing out across the moonlit forest.
She sighed. “Whatever you wish.” Wrapping her cloak tighter around her, she closed her eyes. The leaves she had burrowed into were dry and sweet smelling. She felt the needle resting beside her, solid and reassuring. With a shuddering breath, Delphine fell asleep.
She awoke late that night. Poking her head out of the leaves again, she spotted Alexander fast asleep on the ground under a piece of bark, drooling into his fur. Ha.
Moonlight beamed down, and the needle caught her eye, lying alongside her in the leaves. The silvery bit of the inscription shimmered, and Delphine gazed at it. The words seemed just out of reach, so close that she could nearly hear them. She reached out to clutch the needle and fell back asleep with it resting in her grasp.