I charged around the legs of the table as the cat slashed at me. Three claw marks appeared in the wood of the table leg. I kept running.
Talking wasn't working, and I couldn't very well fight the thing, certainly not on its own terms and turf.
I caught sight of a mouse hole at the far end of the room and sprinted for it.
The cat pulled up short. It moved into an attentive sitting position.
I looked over my shoulder, puzzled. Why would the cat stop? I caught the scent of oil.
I turned sideways, trying to stop my forward progress, sliding sideways at the entryway to the hole and stopping just short of it. There was the familiar SCHING! of a blade and a sharp pain at the very tip of my tail.
If the cat could laugh, he would have.
I turned and the black furry beast reared up, but before it could pounce, Hack was on its back, yanking on its ears.
"Get key!" he hissed. "Hurry!"
I turned, saw the steps, and ran up them.
The cat hopped sideways, slamming poor Hack into the wall. Stunned, Hack lost his grip.
But the cat knew what I was up to. It bounded across the floor and up the steps, taking them two at a time.
To me, the steps were huge, and I had to coil myself into a spring to clear each one. I didn't look back. There was no time.
There was a flash of black fur as the cat passed me to turn at the top of the steps before I did. He wasn't just defending his home—he was playing with his prey.
The cat took a swipe in an attempt to swat me off the steps. I dodged sideways and then blasted the cat with the most fearsome sound I could imagine: Jacko's barking.
Startled, the cat jumped high into the air and landed midway between two steps. Claws out, he tried to stop his momentum as he slipped and slid down the stairway.
It bought me the time I needed. I kept running, trying to pick up the scent of the cheese-covered key.
It was behind a door at the far end of the hall. I scrambled for it. There was more meowing and scratching. The cat was clawing its way back up the steps.
I skidded to a halt in front of the door. The door was closed.
Great! What was I supposed to do, hop up the four feet or so and open it?
Then I thought like a rat. I couldn't open a door, but I could get under it.
I took a few steps back and then launched myself towards the crack between the door and the floor. I could fit anywhere my skull could.
I wriggled underneath just as I heard the clatter of claws slap down on the wooden floor behind me. There was another hiss and the cat turned around. Hack was distracting the guardian feline to buy me some time.
Piper was in a high bed, covered up to his neck with blankets. And of course, the key was with him.
Lucky for me, Piper was a deep sleeper. His snoring reverberated throughout the room.
What in the world was a man doing with a key in his bed? Had he swallowed it?
I wasted no time. I ran straight for the coverlet and jumped, latching on with my claws.
Piper kept snoring.
I clambered up onto the foot of the bed and sniffed the air. I hoped the scent would be somewhere else, that I was mistaken. But the key was right near his throat.
I walked lightly, slowly, and carefully across the bedspread. It was hard enough dealing with an angry guard cat. I couldn't possibly survive an encounter with a man.
Piper looked just like he did in my dream. He was older, though, an adult now. He had light, loose hair, but swarthy skin. His face was bare. And there, dangling from Piper's throat, were two items: a key and a flute. It was a small black transverse musical pipe, at the end of a scarf with a yellow stripe.
I hesitated. The flute seemed important somehow. Certainly, it was important enough to Piper that he kept it around his neck.
But I had a mission to complete. Moving ever so gingerly up to Piper's throat, I nibbled on the leather cord that bound it around his neck.
There were more sounds of a scuffle outside. Hack wouldn't last long against the cat.
At last I bit through the cord. I tugged gently and it unwrapped from Piper's throat. Both the key and the flute slipped off his neck.
There was a bang on the door and a hiss. Piper flinched but didn't awaken.
I didn't have any more time. I dragged the leather cord to the edge of the bed in my mouth. The flute was far too heavy for me to carry down the bed and out of the room. I needed to remove it from the cord, but hadn't thought that far ahead yet.
The flute strap tugged downwards in my mouth. Gravity took over and the flute slowly slid off the side of the bed.
I scrabbled backwards, trying to stop my descent and not awaken the sleeping Piper. The bedclothes bunched up under my feet, but the pipe was heavy. I couldn't hold on to it.
Slowly at first, the pipe started to slide off the leather cord.
Then it fell the rest of the way off the bed, making a shrieking FHWEEET! as the air blew through it.
Piper sat bolt upright in his bed, hand immediately clutching at his throat.
I grabbed the key in my mouth and ran for the door. I could hear his footsteps as he stumbled around in the darkness, looking for a lantern.
I had a temporary advantage while his eyes adjusted. Turning around, I squirmed beneath the door and dragged the key after me. Then I got stuck.
Piper lit a candle. The light illuminated the room but didn't quite penetrate to where I was, under the door.
I pulled again. The key tinkled as it hit against the door.
Piper looked down…
And I was through!
I whirled just in time to see a pair of baleful yellow eyes staring down at me. Then the wind was knocked out of me as the cat struck me sideways like a toy.
I bounced, still holding onto the key in my jaws. The weight saved me—instead of being tossed high in the air I tumbled over and over, bouncing my way towards the steps.
I splayed all four of my limbs to give me some traction and skidded to a stop, flopping over onto the first step.
A vicious set of claws raked the air where I had just been.
The cat jumped past me again down to the step below me so it could take a better swipe.
There was no way I could carry the key and defend myself at the same time. So I flipped it over the edge of the step, right at the cat's nose.
The cat batted it out of the air effortlessly, but the distraction bought me some time.
I ran down the steps, racing the key as it bounced down ahead of me. The key tumbled end over end down the staircase and then, hitting one step just right, it sailed high through the air before hitting the floor.
Hack leaped and caught it in one claw. He was battered and bloody, but the goblin was tough.
He grinned at me over his shoulder, triumphant, as he ran for the opening. "Me keeping key," he said to me telepathically as I zeroed in on him. "You feed cat!"
But in his excitement over double-crossing me, Hack hadn't been paying attention to where the cat had gone. The cat pounced, pinning the goblin against the floor in mid-stride. The key clattered away.
Light shone at the top of the steps. Piper was coming down.
I ran for it. The cat was too busy mauling Hack to worry about me.
With a quick slide across the polished wooden floor, I scooped up the key in my jaws.
There was no way I could make it out the way we had come in. One of the mouse holes was my only hope. I just had to figure out how to evade the traps.
I hurdled towards the mouse hole that had nearly bisected me before. Then I dove for it, twisting with my back along the ground and the key over my stomach.
K-TANG! The mousetrap blade bounced off of the key, knocking the wind out of me. It hurt, but I was through.
I ran out through the hole into an alley. There was no way I was going to give Black the key now.
I turned and fled into the darkness.
* * *
I hadn't gotte
n very far when I encountered Switch.
It was he and Heave, with Heave holding onto Switch with a leash—a different leash, this one made of leather that Black must have fashioned just for such an occasion.
I nearly dropped the key at the sight. Fortunately, Heave seemed to be asleep in place.
"What are you doing here?" I asked Switch.
Switch sniffed the air near me.
"Helping," he said. "That key smells like cheese."
The smell was very faint, but it was there. Now that I wasn't running for my life, I understood what Black did—he put cheese in the lock. When Piper put his key in the lock, it became covered with the stuff. The scent was dull enough that a human might not notice unless he sniffed the key directly, which Piper surely wouldn’t do. But it was strong enough that a rat could find it.
I edged sideways. Heave was still asleep. If I could just move far enough around his huge girth…
A meaty paw flashed out at me. I jumped, but the weight of the key held me down. Heave scooped me up effortlessly.
"Keeeeeey," he said.
"That's right, and I was just bringing it back to your master," I lied. "Now let me go."
Heave shook his head. "No keeeeey." He shook me a bit to emphasize his point. "Master no need us if he has key."
"Why?" I asked, indignant and in danger of having the life squeezed out of me. "Why does Black need the key?"
"Piiiiiiipessss."
The flute! I regretted not grabbing the flute, even though it was far too large for me to do anything with it.
"And what will he do with the pipe?" I asked, dreading the answer.
"Childreeeennnn," he said.
"I wasn't planning on giving they key to him anyway," I said. "I don't like Black any more than you do."
Switch suddenly jerked hard at his restraints, unbalancing Heave.
I wriggled free, key still in my mouth. I didn't question what caused Switch to suddenly grow a spine. I was running away from goblins and cats, and that was enough.
"You'd steal from me, Black?" shouted Piper from his bedroom window out onto the street. "You should have paid the thousand guilders! Now you're resorting to rats to do your stealing for you? Well, I've a remedy for that…"
Then I heard Piper's music and the world turned upside down.
* * *
The sound wasn't quite music per se. It began with nine short notes on the pipe, but progressed into a wild, mournful melody.
In the music were promises, promises that would make any rat drool: of apples being pressed into cider, of pickle-tub boards left unguarded, of cupboards ajar and oil flasks left open, of cracks in butter casks and other delights.
"Oh rats, rejoice!" came Piper's voice through the music. "The world is grown to one vast drysaltery! So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon. Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!"
I found myself following Switch, running towards who knew what.
He was moving with great intent and I was dimly aware of other rats joining us.
Rats of every stripe came out of the houses around us: Great and small, lean and brawny, brown and black, gray and tawny, old rats and young, fathers and mothers, uncles and cousins, families by the dozen ran out into the street.
Magic! Something in the back of my mind rattled in frustration. We were being led somewhere. I didn't think it would be anywhere good.
"This isn't right," I said, struggling to stop my feet from moving.
We were practically dancing down the streets, streaming in throngs. And on and on we went.
I caught a glimpse of Piper. He had thrown on his coat, half of it yellow. He danced and hopped as he played his pipe, and the rats skipped along to his merry tune.
Every fifty yards he'd stop and give an extra flourish on his pipe just to give the younger and slower time to keep up with the older and stronger of the band. And I, for all my wherewithal, followed along and did the same.
I caught sight of the Porro River. Its inky black waters rushed by; the tide was high due to the thawing season.
Piper stepped onto a boat and poled out into the water. And to my horror, the rats of Stromgate followed.
One after another they went into the water, swimming as hard as they could. But they couldn't swim fast enough against the Porro River's current, and it sucked them down in great clumps of struggling wet fur.
"Stop!" I shouted at Switch. But he made straight for the water.
I grabbed hold of his leash. Switch kept struggling, heedless that he was bound by anything at all.
I held onto the leash with all my might, and our struggles dragged me beneath a nearby dock, out of sight of Piper.
Finally, the music stopped. There were no other rats left but us.
As soon as the piping stopped, Switch stopped struggling. He blinked and looked around.
"No cheese?" he asked.
I looked out at the inky blackness of the Porro River. All the rats were gone. Every one of them. We might be the only two rats left in Stromgate.
"No cheese," I said.
* * *
"What do we do now?" wailed Switch.
"I don't know, Switch," I said. "All we have is this stupid key. Not that it's good to us anymore."
"Why not?" he asked.
"Piper knows we have the key to his front door," I said morosely. "He'll surely change the lock. So all our efforts were for naught."
Switch twitched his whiskers. "Heave said the key is for more than doors."
"More than doors?"
"It is also a key to the children," said Switch matter-of-factly. "That's what Heave said."
Was the key magical? If so, it was no wonder that Black wanted it so badly!
A series of barks reached our ears. It was Jacko. Black was tracking us.
"Piper probably thinks the key is at the bottom of the Porro River," I said. "We need to get out of here."
Switch looked back and forth between the river and the sound of Jacko's pursuit. "We must leave. Now."
"We've got to rescue the children."
"Why?" asked Switch. "Humans have been nothing but trouble."
"I think I WAS a human once!" I blurted out. I immediately regretted it when I saw Switch recoil. "I'm sorry, but those kids...I think they were my friends. I have to help them. I'll understand if you don't want to help me."
Switch sighed. "You don't even know where to go. You'll never survive in the wild. You're not even a real rat."
"Yes, thanks," I said. "Well, I guess this is goodbye."
Switch turned around. "You will never be able to carry the key with like that." He wiggled his back. "I'm wearing a harness. Fit it in there and I will carry it."
"So...you're going with me?"
There was another series of barks. Jacko had found our trail.
"Do you want my help or not?"
Wasting no time, I shoved the key between Switch's back and his harness. Switch started sniffing up and down the dock.
"How are we going to cross?"
"Normally, I could swim it. But not with this key on my back. We'll need a piece of wood."
I found a suitable piece banging against the dock. "Will this do?"
Switch wasted no time in paddling out to the branch. "Maybe." He clambered onto it. Switch's scrambling caused the stick to slowly float out further from the dock and get picked up by the current. "Coming?"
"Are you sure this will get us across?"
Jacko barks were getting closer.
"Coming?" he said again.
I paddled out into the water and grabbed onto the branch.
The current took us swiftly, spinning us a few times before the branch settled. The water was freezing. Switch and I huddled together for warmth at the center of the stick, which helped center it a bit and slow the spinning. I caught sight of Black at the dock with Jacko barking at the water. I couldn't resist.
"I'm keeping the key!" I told Jacko across the gulf. "I'm going to rescue the children, if I can fi
nd them."
To my surprise, the dog merely barked, "Good luck."
Chapter 3: Scrap and the Rat Royalty
Despite the chill I managed to doze off, lulled to sleep by the rushing water of the river. And I dreamed again of a life I had before.
It was late morning when I woke. I was back at Black's hideout. I cracked an eyelid.
Black was busy stirring a pot of his favorite gin-and-tea drink. He looked over at me.
"You awake, Tesso?"
So my name was Tesso! I subconsciously cheered at this new piece of information. But my dream self was careful not to appear awake. I didn't fully trust Black.
Satisfied that I was not awake, Black locked the door. Then he crouched over the floor and opened a trapdoor I hadn't noticed before. He lifted a small, ornate box from it and placed it on the table. Black pulled a few items out of the box. They were all gold and silver, pocket watches and cuffs, necklaces and rings. One of them was a plain old key. One particularly large red gem seemed to pulse with a life of its own.
"What's this? I never noticed this glow before." Black pondered softly to himself, holding the gem up to the meager light. Preoccupied, he placed the key on the edge of the table.
Black stared at the gem slack-jawed, as it pulsed like a heartbeat. "The Hyrtstone," he whispered. He shifted his weight, bumping the table just enough to cause the key to teeter precariously on the edge. Then it fell.
I held my breath. If the key hit the ground I would have to give up my ruse; any sound that loud would certainly awaken me.
But there was no sound at all.
I inadvertently snapped both eyes open to stare at the spot where the key had fallen. It was floating in mid-air just above the floor.
I closed my eyes again as Black looked down at the floor. He whispered an exclamation and then leaned closer to examine the key.
The key was perpendicular to the floor, with an inch or so of space between it and the wooden slat, as if it had entered a keyhole and was held there.
Black carefully reached for the key and, after taking a deep breath, turned it.
The floor opened up. Or rather, a normal-sized doorway opened horizontally. There was no glow, no strange effects, just a door-sized opening—a portal—where it ought not to be.
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