Chapter 10- There’s Always a Catch
“This is typical Bryony,” growled Edwin, pacing restlessly around the cramped little chamber. “I knew she was planning something, from the moment we got captured. We’ve got to stop her finding the Key, to stop the power falling into the clutches of the Ratello Mob. But first, we’ve got to find a way out of the lair.”
“Oh really,” sighed Stubby, sitting with his back against the wall. “And there was me thinking we’d just wait here until the number seven bus turned up.”
Edwin ignored Stubby’s sarcastic reply. “Are you sure you can’t dig us out?”
Stubby shook his head. “I told you, the walls and floor are solid stone. I’d wear my claws out in seconds. Why don’t you use your head?”
“I’m trying.” Edwin scratched his forehead as he struggled to think of an escape plan.
“No,” said Stubby. “I mean actually use your head. A few blows of your thick skull should be enough to knock a hole in anything.”
“It isn’t my fault,” muttered Edwin, slumping to the floor alongside Stubby. “Bryony was the one who dumped us in it.”
And how. After sealing the deal with the Ratello Mob, Bryony had insisted she accompany the rats on their trek to the Pit. Pipsqueak had pointed out that the journey would be long and dangerous, but Bryony seemed determined to get to the Key before Edwin. She’d even suggested that he and Stubby remain in the lair as ‘insurance’.
“This is all her fault,” grumbled Edwin, shaking his head.
“In my book you are both to blame,” reflected Stubby. “And Inglenook was an idiot to trust you with the Key in the first place. I’d sooner trust a crocodile to clip my toe-claws. Anyway, the girl is probably in more danger right now than we are.”
“How do you mean?”
“This is a maximum security vermin prison,” Stubby reminded Edwin. “The Ratello Mob are bad enough, but I shudder to think what else might be lurking in those drains. As far as I’m concerned, we’re safer locked up here for now. Although I can’t say how long that might last. The Ratello Mob aren’t renowned for their hospitality.”
“They don’t all seem bad,” pondered Edwin. “Moll was quite nice.”
“The pretty little field mouse?” Stubby twitched his whiskers. “Can’t say I noticed her.”
“Oh come off it,” snorted Edwin. “You couldn’t keep your big bulbous eyes off her. You fancy her.”
“Oh don’t be ridiculous.”
“Why else would you have risked getting beaten up to save her?”
“I was just doing what any decent gentlemouse would do.” Stubby shifted uneasily before continuing. “But we can’t trust anyone here. They’re all criminals, even Moll. She might be a pretty little field mouse, but I doubt if she was thrown in here for pilfering a few crumbs of Camembert from the local delicatessen. More likely…”
“Sh!” Edwin put a finger to his lips. “Did you hear that?”
From the tunnel outside came the patter of approaching paw-steps.
“This is it,” said Stubby. “They’ve come to finish us.”
Edwin chewed his bottom lip. “What are we going to do?”
“This is our only chance,” whispered Stubby, getting up from the floor to stand beside the door. “We’re going to have to rush them, then make a run for it.”
“Good idea.” Edwin jumped to his feet and stood on the other side of the door.
There was scratching from behind the door, and then a scraping noise as the catch was drawn back.
“Ready?” Stubby’s ears stood erect as he glanced at Edwin.
Edwin nodded, keeping his gaze on the door as it swung slowly open.
“Now!” yelled Stubby, but froze when he saw who stood in the doorway.
It wasn’t a rat, but a pretty little field mouse. “Are you two all right?” asked Moll, switching her gaze from Edwin to Stubby. “Have they harmed you?”
“It’s been terrible,” said Stubby. “I’ve been locked up in here for hours suffering the most painful torture imaginable.”
Edwin frowned. “But you’ve only been chatting to me.”
“Exactly,” said Stubby, before peering over Moll’s shoulder. “Is anyone with you?”
“Not a soul,” revealed Moll. “Everyone else in the lair is enjoying a nice little nap, thanks to a drop of sleeping potion I popped into their evening drink.”
Edwin gasped. “You drugged them?”
“It was a bit drastic,” conceded Moll. “But the only way I could think of helping you escape.”
Edwin and Stubby swapped glances.
Moll seemed puzzled. “You do want to escape? And find the Key before the Ratello Mob?”
“Sure.” Edwin smiled at Stubby. “Who says we can’t trust anyone here?”
“You didn’t think you could trust me?” Moll looked enquiringly at Stubby. “I don’t blame you, but I’m not a criminal like the others. I’m here by accident. I was shipwrecked some time ago, and I’ve been stuck here ever since.”
“Of course I knew we could trust you,” said Stubby. “But why risk so much to help us?”
“It’s the least I could do,” said Moll, “after you risked your life to save me.”
“It was nothing,” said Edwin, before Stubby could reply. “He was just doing what any decent gentlemouse would do.”
“Yes,” said Stubby, through clenched teeth. “Like the boy says.”
Moll beckoned Stubby and Edwin to the door. “We must hurry. The effects of the drug won’t last long.”
Edwin followed Moll and Stubby from the cell and down a narrow passage, holding his breath as he entered the main part of the lair. The floor was littered with unconscious rats, their bellies heaving in time to their deep, rhythmic snoring.
“Wait there.” Moll hurried off down a side passage, and returned moments later with a small but well laden sack. “Supplies,” she said, handing the sack to Edwin.
Edwin opened the sack, and grimaced when he saw the unappetising assortment of dried seeds and mouldy crumbs it contained.
“It doesn’t look much,” agreed Moll. “But we’ve a long journey ahead of us, and you’ll be glad of it once we get to the lower levels. Now follow me.”
Edwin hoisted the sack over his shoulder, and followed Moll and Stubby past the slumbering rats and into a tunnel that led to a maze of connecting passages.
“Is this all part of the lair?” he asked, after they’d been walking for what seemed like hours.
Moll shook her head. “These passages were here long before the lair, they’re part of the foundations of the old keep.”
“A keep?” Edwin noticed that the passage walls were straight and angular, and made of large bricks. “So there was some sort of castle here?”
“The island hasn’t always been a prison,” explained Moll, leading Edwin and Stubby round a corner and into another passage. “Centuries ago it was used for military purposes. A huge fortified edifice stood here. Its foundations were built deep into the ground, but over time they have crumbled away, leaving little gaps and passages we can use to reach the Pit. The Pit used to hold the castle’s water supply, but it’s dry as a bone now. Ah, here we are.”
Moll stopped suddenly. Edwin frowned. All he could see in front of them was a wall of solid rock. Then he saw the surface of the rock ripple slightly. Intrigued, he stepped forwards and examined the wall more closely, to find that it wasn’t rock at all, but…
“Cobwebs,” explained Moll. “A curtain of cobwebs hides a secret route to the Pit. No one knows about it except me. We’ll get to the Key in half the time it will take Bryony and the rats using the main drainage tunnels.”
“There’s a catch.” Stubby pulled Edwin back before he could step through the cobwebs. “There’s always a catch with secret short cut passages. And I take it this one is no exception, Moll?”
Moll nodded. “The passage is steep and narrow, the ground slimy and treacherous. We will have to be very careful.”
“What do mean we?” Stubby shook his head at Moll. “You’re not coming with us.”
“I can’t go back.” Moll moved to the tunnel entrance and parted the cobwebs with an outstretched paw. “When the rats wake up, they’ll work out who helped you escape. Besides, I should have left the lair ages ago. I was a prisoner there as much as you.” Before anyone could stop her, Moll disappeared through the cobwebs.
“Wait!” Stubby followed, leaving Edwin alone.
Knowing he had no choice, Edwin took a deep breath and plunged into the cobweb curtain. The fibrous strands clung to his arms and face, and for a moment he thought he was going to get stuck. Eventually he fought his way through to the tunnel beyond, where Stubby and Moll were arguing.
“I cannot allow you to risk your life for us any more,” insisted Stubby.
“You risked your life to save me,” countered Moll. “And I cannot allow the Key to fall into the clutches of the Ratello Mob.”
Stubby sighed. “I suppose you’re right. If the Ratello Mob has the Key’s power, no innocent creature will be able to sleep safely in their bed at night. Or during the day, if they’re nocturnal by nature.”
“Mice are always right,” said Moll. “But before we continue, there is something else I must tell you about this passage.”
“Let me guess,” said Stubby. “You’ve already mentioned that it’s steep, narrow, and treacherous underfoot. Don’t tell me there aren’t any public conveniences for twenty miles?”
“Worse than that.” Moll’s voice became very solemn. “The route cuts through the territory of the Sisterhood.”
Stubby made a whimpering noise, suggesting to Edwin that Moll’s announcement wasn’t entirely welcome.
“Everybody keeps going on about this Sisterhood,” said Edwin. “But who are they? What are they?”
“Bad news,” said Moll.
Edwin shrugged. “How bad?”
“Put it like this,” breathed Stubby. “If you heard that your favourite professional football team had lost ten nil to a side made up of schoolgirls, and that because of an administrative error in the marking department you’d have to sit all your end of term exams again, on the same day it was announced that ice cream prices had doubled and an asteroid the size of Australia was on a collision course with the planet Earth, that combined news would seem like sweet tidings of joy compared to the Sisterhood. Understand?”
Edwin nodded. “I think so. But it would depend on where the asteroid landed. If it fell on Bryony, it wouldn’t seem bad news at all.”
“Only for the asteroid,” reflected Stubby.
“And the Sisterhood are the enemies of the Ratello Mob, right?” Edwin recalled how the rats had reacted at the mention of the word.
“The rats blame the Sisterhood for the death of the old Boss,” said Moll. “Pipsqueak is eager for vengeance, and it seems there may soon be war between the gangs. The sooner we find the Key and get you safely off the island, the better.” Moll headed off down the passageway, beckoning for Edwin and Stubby to follow. “Stay close to me. Keep as quiet as possible, and don’t make any unnecessary noises.”
“She means don’t speak,” said Stubby, following their guide.
Edwin frowned. “But what if I want to say something necessary?”
Stubby sighed. “I fear there’s not much risk of that.”
Wychetts and the Key to Magic Page 11