Nightshade City

by Hilary Wagner

  Mother Gallo trembled in panic. “Juniper, how do I contend with Billycan?”

  Oard interrupted. “Juniper, the army is close on our heels. They should be here any moment. We must go now!” he pleaded.

  Juniper grabbed Mother Gallo’s shoulders. “Maddy, this will sound odd, but please just listen and do as I say. Lie down on the ground, facedown. Do it now!” Mother Gallo did as Juniper asked. He grabbed Clover’s blood-stained sash and tied Mother Gallo’s wrists and ankles behind her. “I’m sorry to do this to you, Maddy. You need to look above suspicion, and there is no other way to protect you from Billycan. You’ll be alone. No one can prove false anything you say. You tell him me and my men were here. You tell him we took Clover.”

  Mother Gallo understood. “Make them tighter! Billycan will check the knots—hurry!”

  Oard grew frantic. “Juniper, time is wasting. You must be off! We still need to backfill the hole.”

  Juniper quickly tightened the knots. They felt authentic. “All right, Maddy, I’m going to cover your mouth. I have to.” He took a rag and knotted it tightly around the back of her head.

  He grabbed a piece of parchment and Clover’s quill pen. He scribbled something on it and tucked it under the knot on her wrists. “You tell Billycan a gang of large rats barged in here and took Clover and Suttor. Say you didn’t recognize any of them but one. You tell him the rat looked like Juniper Belancort. You will come out of this unscathed and unsuspected.” Juniper groaned in frustration. “Maddy, I’m sorry, but I’m doing this for your own preservation. Lift up your head.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek so that she wouldn’t know what was coming. He opened his paw and cracked her hard on the side of the head, knocking her senseless. She lay unconscious on the ground. “I’m sorry, Maddy. At least you’re safe for now.”

  “Juniper, apologize later. Get out of here!” said Oard.

  Juniper jumped into the tunnel. The worms made fast work of the hole. The Nightshade rats kicked back the dirt under the gaping hole as the worms propelled the excess earth back in from the ground above. After the hole was filled, the earthworms twirled and rolled their vine-like bodies against the floor of the quarters, smoothing away any trace of disturbance to the ground.

  “They’re here!” called Noc. The earthworms evaporated into the walls of Clover’s quarters just as Billycan and his soldiers approached the door.

  Suttor was nowhere to be seen. Billycan cursed and spat as he and the pack of soldiers reached Clover’s door. “Where is that softheaded lieutenant?” he screeched. He kicked the door in, ripping it off its hinges. The door flew across Clover’s quarters, smashing against the back wall.

  He all but tripped over Mother Gallo. “High Mistress?” he said, nearly stepping on her. She lay flat on her belly, prostrate on the ground. Her head was stretched out in front of him. “Lieutenant Carn, help me with her.”

  Carn grabbed a stool, and he and Billycan hoisted Mother Gallo onto it. Still unconscious, her head fell on her chest. Billycan sniffed the air. “Waterchip—over there,” he said, pointing a knobby digit. “Bring me the vile root.” Lieutenant Carn quickly grabbed the root and gave it to Billycan, who dangled it under Mother Gallo’s nose. Billycan spoke to Mother Gallo as he tried to revive her. “C’mon, my pet, let’s wake up, shall we? Billycan has many questions for you, questions only you can answer.”

  Lieutenant Carn untied her while Billycan balanced her on the stool. The rolled parchment fell to the ground. Carn picked it up and handed it to Billycan. “Sir,” he said, handing him the note.

  Billycan read the document. His nostrils flared as his whole body quaked with anger. Crumpling the paper in his fist, he let out a baleful wail, a grunting, guttural howl from deep within his chest. He sprang to his feet and began tearing Clover’s quarters apart.

  Lieutenant Carn caught Mother Gallo before she fell, and he carried her out of the room before Billycan could take out his rage on her.

  The pack of soldiers stood in the doorway and watched as Billycan shattered everything in his path. He saw the carving of Duchess Nomi on the wall and furiously clawed away at it until blood dripped from under his nails. He threw Clover’s parents’ bed across the room, smashing it into kindling. Snatching up matches, he lit the dry wood ablaze. The fire quickly engulfed the room. Billycan looked around without direction; his pupils glazed over, shifting color, in league with the flames.

  Lieutenant Carn stepped in and reached for him. “Commander—please—you must come out now! Sir, the flames will eat you alive!” Billycan did not respond. “Commander, please listen to me! You must get out of here!” Carn boldly grabbed Billycan by his shoulders, shaking him, trying to bring him back to reality. The flames licked at Carn’s ankles and tail. “Commander, wake up!” he yelled in one final attempt to rouse him. Carn fled the room and watched in horror as the flames climbed the walls.

  Billycan finally snapped to. His eyes darkened, returning to the world of the living. He ignored the inferno he had created and exited the room, now strangely calm. He turned to Carn and looked at him blankly, his voice a monotone. “Put that fire out.”

  He aimlessly drifted down the corridor, leaving the scene. Carn quickly directed a dozen bewildered soldiers, who scrambled about the sector, banging on doors and shouting for help, yelling for water. Rats ran from all directions to aid the soldiers, passing Billycan with buckets and jugs overflowing with water, milk, whatever they could find to help put out the rising flames. Billycan didn’t seem to notice. He just kept walking. Turning a corner, he disappeared from view. The contents of the note played over and over in his head.

  Your Chosen One sends her regrets. The Minister is not to her liking. Your lieutenant has been taken captive, courtesy of Nightshade City.

  —J. Belancort

  Juniper pushed Suttor in the wheelbarrow himself. He didn’t want the Nightshade rats to do any further work, unless it involved bringing a mug of ale to their lips. Suttor must have been comfortable in his bed of dirt, as he began to snore—loudly. Everyone held in their laughs, not wanting to wake him.

  The earthworms had gone home. They had proven themselves more valuable than Juniper ever thought possible. There would surely be no Nightshade without them.

  Vincent and Clover lagged behind the others. They were deep in discussion about their fathers, two best friends with children who’d never met, at least not that they remembered. Juniper glanced back at the pair. He liked the way they looked next to each other, and it was nice to see them both smiling for a change.

  The Grand Speech never took place. Disgraced and embarrassed, Killdeer lurked about his compound all night and early into the morning, pickling himself with Oshi. Billycan left the Minister alone, as he was more useless than usual in his current state.

  Billycan sat in an uncomfortable wooden chair in the center of his barren den. He compressed his paws into tight, bony fists, peeling open his self-inflicted wounds from the night before. The blood dripped from beneath his claws in small droplets, ticking his snow-white fur with scarlet dots. Billycan watched as the beads of blood dribbled between his paws, one by one by one.

  Mother Gallo’s sons had gathered around her. Lieutenant Carn had assured them that their mother would be fine, but the boys stood watch through the night, much concerned for her well-being. Mother Gallo had not stirred once. She finally shifted a bit. The boys sat up in eagerness, glad to see her move about. She slowly turned over on her back and stretched her arms and neck. She opened her puffy morning eyes and yawned. As she focused, she realized her three sons were staring closely at her.

  She jolted up, alarmed. “Boys, what on earth is the matter? Why are you looking at me so?”

  Her youngest son, Hob, answered. “You hurt your head, Mother. Don’t you remember?”

  “I hurt my head?” She looked around the room for a second, gathering her wits. “My head—I remember now.”

  Like their mother, Tuk, Gage, and Hob were gray, but to varying degrees. Little Ho
b, the baby of the family, had an identical hue to his mother, soft ash gray. Tuk, the oldest, was a dark bluish charcoal, almost black, while Gage was mottled, his coat speckled with lead and silver.

  “Mother,” said Tuk, handing her a mug of bitonberry juice, “you do understand you were attacked last night, don’t you? Someone hit you over the head, and that Chosen One, Clover—she’s missing; Suttor too. You don’t think Suttor did it?” Tuk and Gage had known Suttor and his brothers years before they had been claimed by the army, but they could only guess how a few years in the hands of the majors could change them.

  Mother Gallo took a drink of juice. Until Juniper could devise a clear-cut escape plan for her and her children, she thought it best to keep the truth from the boys. It was only a matter of time before Billycan would come calling. The mere mention of Billycan unsettled her boys enough as it was. Billycan could easily read faces, especially those of scared little ones. He knew it if a young one tried to hide something. Her boys were not experienced liars and would never forgive themselves if they unintentionally gave their mother away.

  “Now, Tuk,” she began, “Suttor is the same boy you knew before his parents died. He would never hurt anyone, especially me or an innocent girl. We were all ambushed. They tied up poor Suttor and stormed into Clover’s quarters, hitting both Suttor and me over the head. I don’t know why they chose to take him. I’m just lucky they left me in one piece.”

  Mother Gallo sent her boys out. She explained to them that Billycan would be coming to talk to her about last night and she needed quiet time so she could concentrate on the details. Her boys were more than happy to oblige. They’d heard about the Collector’s bizarre behavior and the fire he had set. The boys had no desire to meet the creepy white rat with the monstrous reputation.

  Mother Gallo was reaching for her toast when she heard the telltale scraping against her door. “Already?” she mumbled to herself. “No rest for the weary—or the wicked—I suppose.”

  Billycan called from the other side of the door, his voice feigning concern. “Mistress Gallo,” he purred, “are you awake? Billycan does need to speak with you, urgently, I’m afraid.”

  “Yes, Collector, do come in.” Mother Gallo rested in a chair, her feet up on a stool.

  Billycan slinked in, followed by two sector majors, who waited just inside the front door. Mother Gallo was glad to see three faces instead of one. It was not as though the majors were friendly, but she felt slightly more comfortable with extra bodies in the room.

  “Well, High Mistress, Billycan is pleased to see you’re awake and hopefully recovering from last night’s traumatic events.”

  “A little weary, but healing. I’m more shaken up than anything else. What an appalling night,” she said. “That poor girl, and young Lieutenant Suttor, both abducted—dreadful business.”

  “So, you do remember. Billycan worried that knock on the head might have destroyed your memory of the incident. Well, then, I need some information, if you would be so kind,” he said. He pulled up a stool near Mother Gallo, far closer than she would have liked.

  “Well, Collector, Clover and I were going over the schedule of the Grand Speech when we heard a loud noise at the door and what sounded like someone falling to the ground. I looked under the door to see what the sound was, and there lay Suttor, flat on his back. I opened the door to assist him, when four large rats bounded in. All four were tall in stature, like you, but with plain brown coats—all but one.”

  Billycan stiffened on the edge of the stool. “And what did this fourth rat look like, Mistress Gallo?”

  “Rather large, like the others, larger, in fact, and his coat was coarse and unshorn, almost canine. Strange, really,” said Mother Gallo.

  “What’s strange?”

  “The color of the rat’s coat was like ripe plums, deep and purple, and it instantly reminded me of someone, though I can’t seem to drum up the rat’s name.” She tapped her chin. “Oh, wait, Collector. Here’s something useful. This rat had some kind of patch over his eye.”

  Billycan cringed, clicking his jaw back and forth; he popped his knuckles, trying to control himself.

  “He had a loud, commanding voice and seemed to be the leader of the pack. He did all the talking, while the three browns simply followed his orders.”

  Billycan’s nostrils flared, his temper brewing. He cocked his head from side to side, stretching his neck. “And where was little Clover in all of this hubbub?”

  “The poor dear just stood there, frozen in fear. I don’t know if she really knew what was happening. That’s when I was hit over the head, and I guess I collapsed. Shortly after that, I heard the purplish rat yell something—some kind of declaration. In fact, I think I heard him mention your name. Regrettably, that’s all I can tell you—it’s the last thing I remember.”

  Billycan squirmed in his seat and said snappishly, “Do you recall anything else—anything at all? It’s very important to the Ministry that you tell us everything you possibly can, even the most negligible detail—everything.”

  “Now that you mention it, I do recall something rather odd,” she said, as if slowly searching her brain for the information.

  Billycan rolled his eyes. “Out with it, Mistress. Time is wasting!”

  Mother Gallo paused, acting oblivious to his frustration. “Well … do you recall our meeting in the corridor yesterday? I had that tattered satchel with me, the one belonging to Clover’s grandfather?”

  Billycan exhaled in exasperation. “Yes, yes, get to the point.”

  “Well, the wine-colored rat took it. He took the satchel off the table and threw it over his shoulder as if it were his. I found it quite peculiar. Why would he want that filthy old leather bag?”

  Billycan had all the confirmation he needed. This was neither a hoax nor a rebel prank—Juniper lived. Now that he had his niece hidden away, Juniper had nothing to lose but his life. That made him even more dangerous. How he must be gloating, thought Billycan, building up a ragtag army of his Loyalist friends and turncoat Catacomb subjects!

  The words on the note were seared into Billycan’s memory. He would find Juniper’s little city. He gazed at Mother Gallo fixedly. “Have you ever heard mention of Nightshade City? Does that name mean anything to you at all? Think hard, now, Mistress.”

  “Nightshade City—you mean as in Julius Nightshade? He’s been dead and buried for years now. Clover had mentioned that her father had been close with Julius, along with her uncle. She paused a moment. “Billycan, you know the uncle. He’s the one all the soldiers chatter about … you know … you had that legendary clash with him—Juniper, that’s it! Juniper Belancort! Why, the rat from last night looked just like him!”

  Billycan jumped to his feet, ignoring her revelation. “Mistress, the High Ministry thanks you for your report. As a Ministry official, you are well aware that last night’s events and all talk relating to it are strictly confidential. Am I clear?”

  “As a church bell,” replied Mother Gallo.

  Giving a formal bow, Billycan walked out the door, his sector majors following. He tramped down the corridor back to Killdeer’s compound, his white skin flushing an angry red. “Go retrieve the High Majors and have them wait for me in the War Room,” he told his majors. “It’s time for Killdeer to wake up.”

  Still caked with dirt from the dig, Nightshade’s citizens waited patiently, saying prayers to the Saints for everyone’s safe return. Cole emerged first from the tunnel. Everyone gasped. He quickly put a claw to his lips, signaling the greeters to stay hushed. He motioned down the tunnel. Juniper came out next, pushing Suttor, still asleep and snoring on the wheelbarrow. The rest of the travelers filed in behind him.

  Juniper pulled Vincent over and motioned to Victor, who had stayed behind. Juniper whispered something to them; both nodded in agreement. Victor took the wheelbarrow from Juniper, and he and Vincent faded down a corridor with Suttor in tow.

  Juniper cleared his throat. He walked with Clover t
o the center of the rotunda. The rats gathered around them. “Our mission—a success!” The rats of Nightshade unleashed in congratulatory thunder. “Nightshade citizens, I’ve been waiting to bring my niece here when the time was right. Well, thanks to the Ministry, the time for our impromptu rescue was forced upon us, so in a way, I’m grateful to our portly High Minister. Without his Chosen One decree, my niece would still be in the Catacombs, living in fear. This gave us the push, the inspiration—the desperation—we needed to move forward and get her out. We worked as a city, and we won as a city!” The rats stomped their feet in unity.

  “All I can say to each and every one of you is—thank you. You have reunited me with the one family member I have left in the world and brought her to safety.” He put his arm around Clover. “Everyone, without further delay, this is Clover Belancort, my niece and the daughter of our long-departed ally, my dear brother, Barcus Belancort. Now, everyone, grab yourselves a mug of good cheer!”

  The rats celebrated—briefly. It was well into the morning hours, and everyone was exhausted. Juniper couldn’t stop thinking about Mother Gallo and her boys. He had to get them out, not to mention Suttor’s brothers. But now he needed rest.

  Juniper’s quarters were cluttered and disheveled, a male’s mess of this and that, unsuitable for his young niece, or any respectable female, for that matter. Cole and Lali gladly took her in. She could stay with them until other preparations could be made or at least until Juniper could get his chaotic quarters in order. Clover did not mind the arrangement. She was thankful for Lali’s company.

  Juniper was alone, too tired to think straight, too tired to concentrate on anything. His jumbled thoughts drifted to the night of Billycan’s assault. He wondered what the white rat was doing at that very moment.

  Billycan stared flintily at Killdeer. The Minister slept on the floor, sprawled on his back, reminiscent of a Topsider’s holiday goose. His chest was stained with crimson blotches of Oshi. A sickening odor emanated from his mouth—a stench of turned wine and fetid meat.