Berrin didn’t want to admit it, but he was afraid of heights. The stickiness of the web repelled him as well. He could see himself spreadeagled on the ropes of silk like one of the moths.
‘Again I must do the job for you, it seems.’
And with these words, the beast clambered slowly over rocks until it reached thick threads of its own silk which dangled from the highest part of the cavern’s roof. Earlier, it had boasted of a spider’s agility, but its movements now looked rather cumbersome. A deep groan of discomfort escaped from its throat.
‘You’re in pain!’
‘I told you, the bullets grow more painful with each year,’ the mountain beast said, yet despite the agony, it hauled itself onto its web.
Berrin watched in awe from the ground. Each time the beast reached a live moth, it pressed the struggling body gently through the gossamer of the special sack it had made. Then he noticed something odd. While the gigantic body above him looked for live moths, it did not ignore the dead ones. Each time the beast reached a lifeless grey body, it was picked free as well. These bodies did not fall to the ground, however. It was some minutes before Berrin realised where they were going.
‘It’s eating them,’ he whispered.
When the sack was full, the beast returned to the ground and found Berrin staring wide-eyed.
‘The moths are your food, aren’t they?’ the boy asked.
‘Yes,’ came the reply. ‘Malig Tumora made me partly from spiders, after all. Is it so unusual that I eat these moths?’
‘But the valley outside has been devastated. These moths are the last that will ever come in here.’
‘I heard your story. I know these are the last.’
‘But don’t you understand?’ Berrin said. ‘With no moths to eat, you’ll starve.’
‘Yes, I understand. Perhaps it is for the best. A beast like me should never have existed. If you beat Malig Tumora, what will human beings do with me? I am the product of his evil. There is no place for creatures like me in the world you hope to restore.’
Berrin was about to argue, to convince the mountain beast to leave the crater. Then he thought of Aden. Had the same thoughts filled his friend’s mind in those last seconds before he died? Was that why he had sacrificed himself, paid for their survival with the unnatural life he had been given?
‘I had a friend like you, a creation of Malig Tumora,’ Berrin said slowly. ‘He chose to die too.’
‘Then you understand. I have given you as much help as I can. Now you must return to your tunnels and face the greatest monster of all.’
SIXTEEN
Dorian’s Choice
‘HOW WILL I FIND MY WAY OUT?’ Berrin asked.
‘The cave is not treacherous and there are no side routes. If you keep one hand on the wall as a guide, you will reach the place where … where we met. The light from outside is only a short distance beyond.’
Berrin was eager to begin, yet he lingered. The mountain beast would live only a few days more, perhaps a week, before starvation brought its life to an end.
‘There has been so much death,’ he said to the unfortunate beast.
‘And if you do not succeed, there will be much, much more,’ said the spidery monster. ‘At least I will die with hope. There is a chance that Malig Tumora will be destroyed and I have helped you gain that chance. Good luck.’
The mountain beast retreated to the steep wall of the cavern and began to climb towards its web and the remaining moths.
‘Thank you,’ called Berrin. These simple words were still bouncing around the high ceiling when he turned and left the cavern, heading into the darkness that would bring him to the light.
He did as the beast had suggested and felt his way along the left-hand side of the blackened tunnel. ‘You’d think I would be used to the dark by now,’ he whispered to himself. But no matter how long he lived in the underground tunnels, he would never lose his fear of a world he could not see.
As they always did in the dark, his other senses became more acute, especially his hearing. He had travelled a hundred paces, climbing steadily all the way, when the first worrying sounds reached his ears. They were not scratching, scraping sounds. If they had been, he would not have been afraid. This was more the odd echo of a stone turned over accidentally.
Berrin stopped and listened for more noises. Nothing. In his fear, perhaps he had imagined the echoes. He walked on. But there was no doubt about the next warning. Something was definitely ahead in the tunnel. He could see the shadows of its light reflected on the walls.
Every muscle in his body grew tense. His breathing stopped. What could it be? He couldn’t be stopped now. He had the precious cargo in his sack. How many more trials must he endure to bring the prize back to Ferdinand and the other Rats?
Then he heard a sound that drained all the tension out of him. It was Olanda’s voice, just the faintest whisper, but enough for him to recognise. He was about to call out when instead he suddenly ducked and spread himself flat on the sandy floor of the cave.
Just in time too, because a deadly bolt from Olanda’s crossbow sailed over his head, missing his scalp by the merest centimetre.
‘Hey, it’s me!’ he cried through a mouthful of sand.
He heard footsteps hurrying towards him and, looking up, saw that the light had strengthened. There was Dorian carrying something burning in her hand. Between him and that fiery light he could see Olanda’s silhouette.
‘Berrin, is it really you? I’m so sorry. I nearly killed you!’
‘I told you that crossbow would be a menace in the dark,’ he scolded her. ‘But yes, it’s me and I haven’t come empty-handed.’
Dorian joined the other two with her makeshift torch — a short stick of partly burned wood.
‘This was the best we could find,’ Dorian explained when she saw him staring at it.
‘You were coming to rescue me!’
The girls glanced at each other sheepishly. ‘We were coming to get ourselves killed, most likely,’ Dorian said. ‘But how did you get away?’
While they walked the rest of the way out of the cave and into the harsh light of day, Berrin told them about the mountain beast they had feared so much.
‘It could talk! It helped you!’ Orlanda cried.
Berrin held up the sack. ‘In here is exactly what we came for. Come on, there’s no reason to waste another minute in this burnt-out crater. We have to get back to the city. The chance we hoped for has come to us after all.’
Climbing out of the lifeless crater was hard work. The path was far steeper than the slopes on the mountain’s exterior. Worst of all, the children had not eaten for two days and their bodies struggled to find the energy.
When they reached the snowy ridge, Berrin did not linger to look out at the distant world and ponder its fate, as he had done days before. All his thoughts, and Dorian’s and Olanda’s too, were focused on their journey home.
They slept, shivering and with aching muscles, on the lower slopes of the mountain they called Windenbeck. The following afternoon they reached the road with its electrified fence and slithered through the same pipe to the other side.
Their fear of Gadges returned, but when the undergrowth nearby rustled briefly, it wasn’t a wolf’s snout that emerged into view. It was Jones.
‘I’ve been on the lookout for you,’ he said. ‘Where’s the other boy?’
Their silence and their grim faces told him the answer better than words could have done.
‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered. ‘Come with me. I’ve replenished my food supplies since you were last my guests. Are you hungry?’
‘Ravenous,’ said Dorian.
Jones fed them a duck he had trapped only the day before, a kind of root he called potato, which he roasted on the fire, and a huge pile of juicy raspberries. After such a meal, was it any wonder that the three exhausted Rats went straight to sleep?
Berrin woke to find darkness around him and wondered for a moment whether
he was still deep in the cavern with the mountain beast. Then his contented stomach reminded him of their meeting with Jones. He was still very tired and wanted only to return to sleep. But on the other side of the embers that had cooked their wonderful meal, he saw two figures sitting up, facing one another. One of the darkened outlines was larger than the other — it must be Jones. Who was he talking to?
Berrin didn’t care enough to stay awake and, before he could decide which of the girls was speaking in such animated whispers, he drifted into a dream-starred sleep.
When he opened his eyes again it was morning. Jones had bound up some supplies of food for them in forest vines. There was no time to delay. Berrin picked up the vital sack of moths that had lain safe beside him all night. ‘Let’s get going.’
He got no argument from Olanda. She took the supplies from Jones’s hands and joined Berrin in the opening of the cosy hideaway. But Dorian hadn’t moved.
‘Come on,’ said Olanda, only just beating Berrin to the same words.
‘I’m not going with you,’ said Dorian.
‘What do you mean? You must come. We have to reach the city as soon as we can and free the moths. There’s so much to be done. The final battle is coming.’
‘Yes, Doomsday,’ Dorian said. She looked down at her feet and ran her callused hand through her thatch of matted hair. ‘It’s because of the battles ahead that I must stay out here in the countryside.’
‘No, you’re our leader,’ Berrin said. ‘We need you. Ferdinand needs you.’
‘I’m no use to the Rats if I don’t measure down any more. In just a few weeks, I’ll be too big. You know the rules. Once Rats grow too big, they become a danger to the rest. I might get stuck in a tunnel at the worst moment. No, my time has come. I have to stay here, as Aden was going to do.’
Berrin was too shocked to reply. He had always taken his orders from Dorian. Her experience and quick thinking had kept him and the other Rats alive. The thought of returning without her was too much.
‘But it’s dangerous out here,’ Olanda pleaded. ‘You saw those miserable grown-ups; you heard how the Gadges hunt them as game.’
‘Yes, the grown-ups are demoralised. But that’s a reason for me to stay too. They need a leader. Jones would do it, but his voice is ruined. He can’t command their respect. But if he and I work together, we can turn the grown-ups into a fighting force. Then we can cause trouble for Malig Tumora out here and he will have to send Gadges to fight us. That will take the pressure off you in the tunnels.’
For the next few minutes, Berrin and Olanda tried to talk Dorian out of her decision. But she stood firm and they knew her well enough to fall silent.
‘Who will lead the Rats?’ asked Olanda finally.
‘That part is easy,’ Dorian replied. She looked at Berrin as she spoke and a warm smile played on her lips. ‘This has been your destiny since you first appeared in the tunnels, Berrin. You are Ferdinand’s nephew. You were born to lead the Rats. Doomsday is coming. Either we defeat Malig Tumora or he will change the human race forever. You’re the one to lead the struggle.’
Berrin could barely stand the weight of Dorian’s eyes upon him. She wanted him to take her place. Could he do it? Did he dare?
But part of him knew she was right. He had been preparing for this moment ever since he escaped from his dormer. He felt a movement on his shoulder — Jasper, who had been a special gift from Ferdinand to Berrin. The warmth of the little creature’s body against his own seemed to settle the matter.
‘Yes, I’m the one,’ he muttered.
Dorian stepped forward and stroked the tuft of white hair on Jasper’s head. ‘I’ll miss this little rat. I’ll miss all of the Rats,’ she managed to say before tears choked off her voice.
Berrin hugged her with all the affection he would lavish on a sister, if he had one. Olanda did the same. The pair shook Jones’s hand as well and accepted his best wishes.
‘It’s time we got going,’ Berrin said to Olanda. ‘Back to the tunnels. Doomsday is coming and we have so much to do.’
WATCH OUT FOR
The Doomsday Rats: Book Five
Available January 2007
Doomsday
The Rats have found the special moth they need to destroy the purple flowers that give Malig Tumora power over the adults. But the moths are not the voracious eaters the children had hoped, and Berrin needs to unlock the secret of their appetites. Even if he does, Malig Tumora is mounting a renewed offensive against the Rats using a new weapon they can’t defeat until they know it’s there …
A do-or-die showdown with the evil Gadges seems to hold the key to victory for both sides, but as the struggle finally swings the way of the Rats, Berrin faces a new dilemma: to destroy Malig Tumora could mean destroying his parents.
HAVE YOU READ?
The Doomsday Rats: Book One
The Tunnels of Ferdinand
A city under a spell and the children are the only ones who can free it.
All his life, Berrin has lived in a dormitory with hundreds of other children, guarded by the inhuman Dfx.
Then one day he is rescued by the Rats, a resistance group of children who secretly survive in the storm-water tunnels beneath the city. He learns that the city is controlled by the evil Malig Tumora and policed by his fearsome creations — including the monstrous Gadges and their leader, Gadger Red.
The only one who remembers what life was like before Malig Tumora took over is Ferdinand, the founder of the Rats. But he has grown too big for the tunnels and is in hiding outside the city — or is he?
Soon Berrin will not only discover the truth about Ferdinand, but he will also find that he himself holds the key to defeating Malig Tumora and saving the city …
HAVE YOU READ?
The Doomsday Rats: Book Two
The Scorpion’s Tail
Time is running out for the Rats to save their tunnels from Malig Tumora’s evil creatures.
After a narrow brush with death at the hands of Gadger Red, Berrin escapes into the tunnels with valuable information. But it has come at a cost — the secret of the Doomsday Rats’ underground hideout has been revealed.
Now the resistance group of children are fighting for their lives, as they’re tracked through the tunnels by the hideous Gadges using a strange beast with powerful senses. But is the beast really on the Gadges’ side?
There’s worse to come, as the Rats must face the terrifying Firedrake and a robotic scorpion. Malig Tumora is determined to exterminate the Rats … and not all of them will survive.
HAVE YOU READ?
The Doomsday Rats: Book Three
Malig Tumora
A single boy emerges from the flooded tunnels, but can he survive the terror of Malig Tumora’s zoo?
Berrin has survived the surging waters and the scorpion sent to kill him. Is he the only member of The Doomsday Rats still alive? And how long will he last when the Gadges are roaming the city, eager to eat him alive?
But Malig Tumora has plans for Berrin that will make such a grisly fate seem welcome. Malig Tumora. The name strikes fear into every heart. Once a brilliant scientist, he has used his talents to unleash unspeakable evil upon the city. His ingenious machines are designed only to destroy, and the hideous animals he has created obey his command alone.
Behind high walls and amid blood-curdling roars, Berrin finds himself imprisoned in Malig Tumora’s menagerie, a storehouse of the madman’s failed experiments — and the site of a new experiment that may change humanity forever.
About the Author
James Moloney is one of Australia’s most respected and awarded children’s authors. His comic novel, Black Taxi, was shortlisted for the 2004 Adelaide Festival Children’s Literature Award and for the 2004 Children’s Book Council Award for Older Readers. He has won the CBC Award for Book of the Year twice, for Swashbuckler in 1996 and A Bridge to Wiseman’s Cove in 1997. He has also received Family Awards for Children’s Literature, Children’s Peace Liter
ature Awards and Multicultural Children’s Literature Awards, and had titles selected for inclusion in the International Youth Library in Munich.
Most recently, James has enjoyed tremendous success with his highly acclaimed The Book of Lies.
OTHER BOOKS BY JAMES MOLONEY
For Young Adults
Black Taxi
For Younger Readers
The Book of Lies
The Doomsday Rat series
The Tunnels of Ferdinand
The Scorpion’s Tail
Malig Tumora
Copyright
Angus&Robertson
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
First published in 2006
This edition published in 2013
by HarperCollinsPublishers Australia Pty Limited
ABN 36 009 913 517
www.harpercollins.com.au
Copyright © Buena Vista Books 2006
The right of James Moloney to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.
This work is copyright.
Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
HarperCollinsPublishers
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National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication data:
Moloney, James, 1954–.
In the lair of the mountain beast.
For children aged 9–13 years.
ISBN 0 2071 9668 0.
ISBN 9 780 2071 9668 3. (pbk)
In the Lair of the Mountain Beast Page 9