Thaddeus Whiskers and the Dragon

by H. L. Burke

  It was Ambrosia who now stomped her foot. “I shall not. I came here to get a crown. I deserve a crown, and nothing, not you, or the princess, or the dragon, and especially not that kitten, will stop me.” Her eyes burned, and Clarice quailed back against Hermes. The old wizard squeezed her shoulder.

  “I must stop you,” he said. “This is not good. If you do not leave, I will tell the king. You will use no love potions on my watch.”

  Ambrosia’s nose wrinkled, then she smiled an ugly smile. “Well, then, it is a good thing I made these.” She drew a glass ball from her sleeve.

  Clarice frowned in confusion, but Hermes called out, “No! Don’t!”

  Ambrosia threw the ball. It landed at Clarice’s feet, and a white mist seeped out of it, surrounding the girl so that she could not see. Hermes’s fingers clutched into her arm so that it hurt, but she was glad to know she was not alone.

  The mist cleared, and she stared up through a glass ceiling at an Ambrosia as tall as a house.

  “She grew bigger!” Clarice shrieked.

  “No,” said Hermes, tapping on the transparent walls of their prison. “We’ve grown smaller.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Realm of the Rats

  Thaddeus followed Snickersnout through the forest. They’d been traveling for hours, over rocks and fallen branches. Snickersnout never spoke. Occasionally he laughed or looked back over his shoulder and grinned. Thaddeus pretended this was all right.

  If he knows how I can get to Clarice and Grandious, it will all be worth it, he told himself. Oh, I hope this isn’t a trick.

  Thaddeus was sure Snickersnout was mean enough to lie about knowing a way to Clarice. However, he clung to the fact that the rat wanted something from him . . . though what that something could be, Thaddeus couldn’t guess.

  What do rats want? Cheese? Ropes to chew on? Grandious’s cave all to themselves?

  Hopefully, whatever it was Thaddeus could deliver. He needed to find his friends.

  Finally they reached a massive tree. Thick, twisting roots sprawled all around it like slithering snakes, and a great jagged hole opened up in the trunk. Dozens of rats scurried in and out of this hole and frolicked in the space between the roots. Thaddeus paused to watch. Rats played tag and wrestled, their games rougher than Thaddeus preferred to play, but still more frisky than fierce.

  Snickersnout stood on his hind legs and waved at the ruckus. “Welcome to my kingdom.”

  Several rats turned their heads towards the new arrivals, pausing their boisterous activities.

  “Hey!” one shouted. “Snickersnout, what is that thing?”

  “Look what the rat dragged in!” cackled another.

  “Is it dinner?” asked a third.

  Thaddeus flattened himself into the dirt.

  “Easy, brothers,” Snickersnout said. “This is my guest, the royal pet.”

  “Companion,” Thaddeus whispered. “Not pet.”

  The rats scurried to stand in a crooked line before their leader, all shouting out questions.

  “Royal pet? Has it been in the palace?”

  “What is it doing here?”

  “Can we eat it?”

  “No, we cannot,” Snickersnout answered only the last question. “Out of my way, rodents. The sun will set soon, and the pet and I have business.”

  The line of rats parted, allowing Snickersnout and Thaddeus through. Snickersnout darted into the hole, and against his better judgment, Thaddeus followed.

  The dirt tunnel was surprisingly well lit. Dozens of candles, most little more than stubs and many bearing tiny teeth marks, lit the way. Thaddeus avoided dangling roots and tried not to think about being underground.

  Every few feet a worm burrow or gopher hole opened up to the sky above, letting out smoke and letting in shafts of golden sunlight. Each time he passed one, Thaddeus wondered if he’d ever see the sky again. Only the thought of Clarice and Grandious kept him going.

  “Here we are,” Snickersnout announced.

  The tunnel widened into a round chamber. A flat flagstone sat in the middle surrounded by a dozen tiny chairs. Most of the chairs were fashioned from odds and ends: matchsticks, flowerpots, and pincushions. A few, however, appeared identical to people furniture, only much smaller. Thaddeus suspected they’d been pilfered from doll houses. At the head of the stone table, on a purple velvet pillow, rested a golden crown and a diamond ring.

  Snickersnout sat upon the cushion and placed the ring upon his head. He grinned at Thaddeus. “Welcome to my palace.”

  Thaddeus looked around at the dirt walls glistening with slug trails and held in place by spidery roots. He cleared his throat. “It’s nice.”

  Snickersnout snorted. “Well, it isn’t the royal residence, but it suits my needs. Now, to business. It grows dark, but we can leave for the palace first thing in the morning.”

  “But how?” Thaddeus asked. “You saw the magic . . er . . smelled it. I can’t get through.”

  “We rats have our own ways, many ways, underground ways. Our tunnels run from one end of the kingdom to the other. I’m guessing the magic barrier stops a few feet below the surface. At least it doesn’t descend all the way to our tunnels. We would’ve smelled it if it did.”

  Thaddeus nodded. That made sense. If the deal with the rats fell through, perhaps he could dig under the magic himself.

  As if reading Thaddeus’s mind, Snickersnout narrowed his eyes. “Deals are deals. We need to talk about payment.”

  Thaddeus’s tail twitched. “I don’t know what I can offer you.”

  Snickersnout’s whiskers quivered. “You know the princess?”

  “Yes.” Thaddeus nodded. He’d said that before.

  “And she loves you?” Snickersnout asked eagerly.

  “Yes, and I her.” The kitten bowed his head.

  Snickersnout adjusted his crown which had tilted over one ragged ear. “I may be a rat, but I have always felt that there might be more to me, a more elegant, royal side. I have heard stories of creatures–even creatures more repulsive than myself, snakes and frogs–who have been transformed into princes by the kiss of a princess.”

  Thaddeus hesitated. He had heard such stories too. “I don’t think it works that way. I think you need to be a prince before you are a rat or a frog for the kiss to change you.” He didn’t mention that Clarice had kissed him multiple times, and he had never turned into a human . . . thank goodness.

  Snickersnout drew himself up. “I must at least try. I sense a royal legacy in my blood. Can you not see my noble bearing?”

  For fish's sake, Thaddeus thought, but he just said, “Maybe.”

  He curled his tail around his body. The kiss was not his to give, and it didn’t seem fair for him to bargain with it without Clarice’s consent. Thaddeus was a gentleman, after all.

  Before Thaddeus could make up his mind, a small black rat darted past, almost knocking him over.

  The rat bowed before Snickersnout. The king beckoned him closer. The rats whispered to each other, and Snickersnout’s eyes widened.

  “Really? So soon? What about the princess?”

  Thaddeus’s ears swiveled at the word ‘princess.’

  With another bow, the new rat departed.

  “It seems things have been happening at the palace. The king announced his engagement,” Snickersnout explained. “He will marry the Lady Ambrosia tomorrow.”

  “Lady Ambrosia?” Thaddeus asked. “There was no one by that name at the palace when I lived there.”

  “My spies say she is the same woman who captured your pet dragon. Considering her previous performances and the hastiness of the engagement, magic must be involved.”

  Thaddeus shuddered at the memory of the horrible woman in the cave. This wasn’t right. “But magic or not, the king would never marry someone Clarice didn’t like, and Clarice would never approve of such a nasty woman. There must be some mistake.”

  “That is the second bit of disturbing news.” Snicker
snout frowned. “The princess has vanished.”

  Thaddeus’s heart faltered, and his knees wobbled. “Vanished? But how? Are they looking for her?”

  “No, which means more evil magic is at work. My spy said it smells like fish oil and rosewater around the king, a strong, unpleasant smell. It must be powerful magic indeed if it has caused him to forget the princess, even for one night. I imagine such a spell is temporary. No good man forgets his child forever. That must be why the wedding is so soon. Ambrosia needs to marry him before the magic wears off.”

  “We must stop her! We must save the princess! And Grandious! This is now a double rescue.” The kitten wanted to rush off then and there, and would have if he’d had the slightest idea how to get to Snickersnout’s tunnels.

  “Yes, it is. We will leave immediately.” Snickersnout whistled, and the little black rat returned. “Fetch me twenty soldiers. They will accompany me and the pet through the tunnels. Also, send a message throughout the kingdom. Every rodent worth its teeth, be it mouse or mole or muskrat, must converge upon the palace.”

  Thaddeus’s insides quivered with rage. Yes, he had been separated from Clarice, but never once had he imagined that she would be in danger. It no longer mattered that Thaddeus was small. Clarice needed him, and Thaddeus was ready.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  To the Palace

  Once Snickersnout gave the orders, the rats obeyed. Soon twenty massive rats, some as large as cats, crammed into the burrow. A few wore rusted tin cans or bits of chewed up leather as armor. One carried a battered butterknife, strapped across his back like a sword.

  Snickersnout stuck a porcelain finger bowl on his head and took up a darning needle blade. “Let’s go,” he ordered.

  The rats traveled down the tunnel, tail to nose, looking like a fuzzy gray caterpillar. Halfway to the surface, they took a side tunnel Thaddeus hadn’t noticed on the way down.

  This passageway was unlit, and afraid he’d lose his rodent escort, Thaddeus bit down on the tail of the rat in front of him. The rat squeaked but did not shake him off. Thaddeus held on for dear life, trying not to think of the dark, or the dank, stuffy air, or the rubbery rat’s tail in his mouth.

  Clarice and Grandious need me, he thought instead.

  He thought of dozing in Clarice’s lap while she read him stories.

  He thought of chasing pearls across the cavern floor while Grandious chuckled.

  He thought of the mean look on Ambrosia’s face when she captured Grandious, and how he would never let her hurt Clarice or Grandious again.

  As they traveled, the rats clicked their teeth and squeaked. After a while, Thaddeus picked out a rhythm to their chattering. Then out of the darkness came the thin voice of Snickersnout, chanting a ballad. The other rats joined in on the chorus.

  We own the night,

  We own the dark,

  The shadows and the gray.

  You’ll never see us coming

  ‘Til we steal your grain away.

  Don’t cut off our tails

  or we’ll bite off your toes.

  Don’t cut off our ears

  or we’ll nibble your nose.

  We are the rats

  That's how our song goes!

  We’re Snickersnout’s rowdy rats!

  We think of just our bellies

  Or maybe our own lives.

  We scorn your traps,

  We spurn your poison,

  We loudly mock your knives

  Don’t cut off our tails

  or we’ll bite off your toes.

  Don’t cut off our ears

  or we’ll nibble your nose.

  We are the rats

  That's how our song goes!

  We’re Snickersnout’s rowdy rats!

  While it wasn’t the nicest song, and Thaddeus had known far better singers, it fit the time and place. Over all, Thaddeus was glad for the music.

  “Hey, pet,” Snickersnout called out. “We just passed under the hill. We made it through the magic wall.”

  Thaddeus’s heart did a backflip. He’d done it! He was really on his way back to Clarice.

  Their path sloped downward, and the rats’ pace quickened. Thaddeus found himself bouncing at the end of the last rat’s tail like a yo-yo.

  The ground changed from packed dirt to stone, and Thaddeus began to smell familiar scents: savory meats, soap, and ladies’ perfumes. Torchlight shone up ahead, and the group tumbled out into the empty halls of the servants' quarters.

  “The kitchen is up the stairs to the left,” Snickersnout explained.

  “I know. I used to live here,” Thaddeus retorted, though he’d actually never been in this section of the palace before. Clarice kept him to the nice parts.

  Even from here, though, he could smell the kitchen with its baking bread and roasting chicken. It smelled heavenly. Around him the rats twitched their noses. From the expressions on their faces, they smelled something much less pleasant.

  “Fish oil,” one said.

  “Yes.” A second sneered. “And rosewater. Bad magic indeed.”

  “We need to look for the princess,” Thaddeus said. “Perhaps she is locked in her room.”

  “More likely she's in one of the dungeon cells,” Snickersnout said.

  The thought made Thaddeus’s tail quiver with rage.

  Snickersnout patted the kitten’s head. “Or you could be right. Either way, we’ll find her. We should all split up. It will make the search go faster. Why don’t you take the bedroom?”

  Eager to get started, Thaddeus bounded up the stairs. He found that by keeping behind curtains and crawling under rugs, he could travel through the palace almost invisibly. However, a chorus of sneezes followed him wherever he went. The fluffication spell still had him in its grip. Soon the whole palace would know he was there.

  I have to hurry.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Ambrosia’s Plan

  Ambrosia sat in the throne room, drumming her fingers on the armrest. The king had ordered the late queen’s throne dragged out of storage for her. It was a fine chair, velvet cushioned, covered in gold leaf, and almost as tall as the king’s, but it gave her no pleasure.

  It had been an easy enough thing to slip the love potion into King Victor’s tea. After that, he eagerly agreed to a wedding. No one had thought to question where Clarice or Hermes had gotten to. A few well placed lies had half the palace convinced she sulked in her room, protesting her father’s unwelcome marriage. The other half could be convinced later.

  Eventually Ambrosia would have to do something about the girl. Once the potion wore off, the king would start looking for her. Ideally, Ambrosia would threaten Clarice into silence and allow her to stay in the palace. If she proved bothersome or tried to tell of her imprisonment, well, she wouldn’t be the first princess to find herself transformed into a frog.

  Still, even with everything going so well, Ambrosia felt anxious. Maybe she’d overlooked something. There had to be a chink in her armor. Nothing was ever this easy.

  The king sat on his throne and looked at her. Sloppy sweet devotion filled his gaze, and a smile flitted over his lips. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Being loved was so annoying. After they were good and married, she’d let the potion wear off so they could ignore each other. She wanted to enjoy being queen, not tolerate being a wife.

  Across the room someone sneezed. Beside her the king sniffled. She glared at him. He inhaled and flushed.

  “I’m sorry, my dear, but something in this room is aggravating my hay fever.” The king dabbed at his nose with a handkerchief then honked out a great sneeze.

  A servant hurried to the foot of the throne. “I’m sorry, your highness, but people are sneezing all over the palace. The cook cannot bake the wedding cake. The scribes cannot ink the invitations. Even the royal dressmaker finds herself unable to sew the wedding dress. No one can stop sneezing. It’s a disaster!”

  The king sat up. “Sneezing? Why does that ring
a bell? What . . . AHCHOO! Clarice! Somehow sneezing reminds me of Clarice. Where is Clarice?”

  Ambrosia’s heart thumped. He shouldn’t remember her. Not already. She cleared her throat. “I will go and check on her, my love,” she said. “I’m sure she’s in her room playing.”

  “Of course,” the king agreed.

  Ambrosia rose. She needed a new spell, a more powerful spell, and she needed to find the source of the sneezing.

  Something to make him forget her forever, that’ll serve the little brat right, she thought as she hurried through the palace. I should’ve known better than to take the gentle approach.

  To make a spell that would erase the princess forever from her father’s mind, Ambrosia needed powdered bats’ knees, centipede wings, and most importantly, some item belonging to Clarice, something she loved. She could grab such an item from Clarice’s room then make the forgetfulness potion in Hermes’s workshop. Oh, Hermes! Perhaps it would be best for the king to forget him too. Just in case.

  She passed several drippy-nosed, sniffling, sneezing servants in the hall. Things were definitely out of control, and she still had that nagging feeling that she’d forgotten something important.

  She entered the princess’s room and found a china doll. Girls liked dolls. This one had to be important to the princess for it was the only one not cracked and worn.

  As she tucked the doll under her arm, she heard something, a muffled movement. Pausing, she listened. Nothing. She looked around the room. Nothing.

  “I’m getting paranoid,” Ambrosia sniffed.

  She hurried out the door, determined to get that potion made before anything else happened.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Thaddeus to the Rescue

  Thaddeus had been poking around under Clarice’s bed looking for clues when Ambrosia entered. He watched as she scooped up Clarice’s least favorite doll, the one with the sour eyes she never played with.