“Goodness,” said the bleary voice, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She was so small, Duncan hadn’t noticed a rat was in his bed. He saw tiny gray feet peeking out from under his quilt, and the edges of a black cloak. “Elvi?”
Pushing back the quilt, Elvi sat up and rubbed her face tiredly.
“What—what are you doing here?” asked Duncan. “Sleeping in my bed.”
“Oh dear,” said Elvi, stretching, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep and startle you so. After the Council meeting, I came to see Lali. The door was unlocked, so I decided to wait inside, thinking she’d be back soon from Bostwick Hall.” She wrung her paws. “I’ve been so tired lately, I sat down on your bed and the next thing I knew your voice woke me up.”
Duncan retrieved a mug from the cupboard, filling it with bitonberry juice from the pitcher on the table. He’d noticed Elvi had been gloomy lately. Everyone had. He felt bad for her. She had no family to call her own and sometimes seemed so out of place in Nightshade. “Here,” he said, handing her the mug. “This always wakes me up.”
“Such a good boy,” said Elvi after taking a long drink, “you and your brothers, all such gentlemen. After all you three lads have been through, you still have such generous hearts.” She sighed. “Speaking of your brothers, how is Suttor doing? He’s got so much responsibility now—a respected Council member, a guard in the prison corridor. When does he find time to sleep?”
“Trust me, he sleeps,” said Duncan, taking a seat at the table. He smiled. “He always wakes me up with his snoring.”
“I would snore too,” said Elvi, “working every day in the prison corridor. It must be so tiring guarding all those prisoners day in and day out. How does he like it?”
“Well, I—I haven’t really been to see him,” said Duncan hesitantly.
“But why not?” asked Elvi, surprised.
Duncan looked down at his paws. “I don’t like it there,” he admitted. “It’s eerie . . . all the former majors from the Kill Army, not to mention High Majors Schnauss and Foiber. I don’t like how I feel when I’m there. It’s creepy.”
“I understand how you feel.” Elvi got off the bed and sat next to Duncan at the table. She took down the hood of her cloak so Duncan could see her eyes. “Like I always tell Texi, we must be brave, even when we don’t think we can be. And look how far she’s come.”
“But I’m not exactly what you’d call fearless,” said Duncan.
“You don’t need to be fearless in order to be brave,” said Elvi. “Some of the bravest rats I know still get scared. It’s only natural. Even after all those years fighting off beasts in the jungle of Tosca, I can still be frightened.” She patted his shoulder. “I have an idea.”
“What sort of idea?”
“Why don’t you take your brother a nice pot of tea someday soon while he’s working one of those tiring shifts? I’ll be glad to brew it for you.”
Duncan cocked his head, thinking. Elvi’s tea was Suttor’s favorite, and he did feel guilty for never visiting him. Still, he didn’t like the idea of seeing the Kill Army majors. “Well, I—”
“Didn’t you just tell the Council how you left the Catacombs all on your own?” Duncan nodded. “That you went up to Trillium and lived among the humans by yourself? Surely you can handle the majors, all locked up tight, unable to ever hurt anyone again. After all, you’re not a little boy anymore.”
Elvi was right. The more he thought about it, the more he felt like a coward. She faced down the Toscan jungle at his age, and here he was whining over rats who’d been safely behind bars for nearly four years now. “All right,” he said decisively. “I’ll do it.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful to hear,” said Elvi. “Your brother will be so thankful to see your friendly face during a long, dreary day in the prison corridor. I’m sure your mother can spare a basket of her famous muffins for you, too.”
“That would be nice,” he said, genuinely excited about the idea. Though he never mentioned it, Duncan was sure Suttor knew of his fear of the prison corridor. He wanted Suttor to be proud of him.
“It’s settled, then,” said Elvi, rubbing her paws together. She grinned from ear to ear.
CHAPTER FIVE
Moments of Happiness
BILLYCAN HAD REOPENED Hecate’s former throne room and turned it into a dining room of sorts for all of Tosca. Palm fronds of what could only be pure gold hung from the rafters of the opulent space, with matching gold vines spiraling down lofty marble pillars.
He’d found the storeroom in shambles, some of Hecate’s things destroyed, as though a wild animal had gotten loose inside. He wondered if Ajax’s temper had finally gotten the better of him. After all, he felt responsible for all that had happened on account of Hecate. Billycan decided not to bring it up.
As for the rest of Hecate’s lavish garments, tapestries, and gold and silver finery, Billycan simply gave it all away. Never had he seen the Toscan rats so colorful. Children chased each other around the pillars, with vibrant silk scarves wrapped around their middles. Parents stored their coarse burlap cloaks, and now dressed in rich fabrics of dazzling colors.
Ajax took in the room. “You’ve done a good thing here. I would have left the room locked up forever, if not for your coaxing, thinking the memories of Hecate were too painful for any of us. Time does heal all wounds, it seems.”
Billycan chuckled as two little ones zipped by him, a blur of tails and color. “But your wounds are still raw. Eventually you would have done the same thing.”
“I doubt that.” Ajax snorted. “I’d be more likely to burn her things to ashes.”
Thinking back to that night in the Catacombs when he burned down Clover’s quarters, Billycan could sympathize with the wrath that burned inside Ajax. “But you didn’t, did you? Even with all that she’d done, you didn’t. There was a time when my need for revenge drove me to do horrible things. In that way, Hecate and I were very much alike, but you’re better than that,” said Billycan. “You are good.”
“I suppose,” Ajax replied. “Where did Hecate come from—originally, I mean? How did she come into your throng back in Trillium?”
“She was there well before Killdeer brought me into the fold. She was nothing more than a foot soldier back then, relatively insignificant. I took notice of her, though, watching as she quickly proved herself as vicious as an alley cat and shrewder than most of the males.” Billycan snorted. “I was the one who promoted her to high major. I saw her promise.” He glanced around the opulent room. “Had I let her be, perhaps none of this would have happened.”
“Little by little, Hecate betrayed herself here in Tosca. Her stories became vaguer and vaguer, details blurred and changed. The more rats she recruited to her side, the more confident she felt, causing her to make mistakes. She began to show her true colors. Perhaps Hecate’s self-control is waning again, and those closest to her in Nightshade are finally seeing the cracks in her façade.”
Before Billycan could respond, a collective gasp filled the hall. Every rat stopped what it was doing and stared fixedly at the throne room’s archway. Ajax leaped to his feet, astonished.
Silvius stood in the doorway, his coat washed and clean. Glancing around the room, Billycan saw tears rolling down many faces. Small ones pulled at their parents, asking who the tall white rat was, while the older ones’ faces lit up, clearly remembering good King Silvius.
“I’m the only one who’s seen him in years,” whispered Ajax. “He looks just like he used to—a true king.”
Silvius took in his subjects. A warm smile emerged, his red eyes twinkling against the white marble pillars. “No tears, now. I’m all right, my children,” he said in a serene voice. He looked at Ajax. “In truth, this is the best I’ve felt in some time. Meeting Billycan, another rat imprisoned in that lab, made me realize something.”
“What?” asked Ajax.
“That I need to do more.”
“I’m so glad you came to see me.
I don’t get many visitors.”
Duncan’s eyes followed the steam from the teapot, which swirled in front of Mol’s cage, causing the blue moth to jump excitedly. “It smells good,” he said.
Elvi held out her paw, revealing dried pink petals. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. This flower, it’s what makes my tea taste so good. When I was in Tosca, I used it many times. My tea seems to soothe others.”
Duncan stared at the flowers. “You brought them all the way from Tosca?”
“When I left Tosca, I could bring very few things.” She nodded around her chamber. “A few silk tapestries, some silver teacups. Everything else I had to leave behind. But these flowers, I knew they had to come with me.” She smiled. “My tea brings joy, does it not?”
“Oh yes, everyone says it’s the best tea in Nightshade City.” Duncan made a sour face. “Much better than Clover’s. Her tea is terrible.”
“We can’t be too critical, dear. We all have different gifts. Mine is making people happy with my tea.” Her eyes narrowed as she filled Duncan’s cup. “It brings me great joy. And soon, when you visit your brother, it will make me happier than you could ever imagine . . . the happiest of all.”
Bostwick Hall was full of life. It had been a long time since Nightshade City had had an official party, and even though the timing was not the best given the unknown fate of the missing Hunters, the Council decided they would continue with the Naming Celebration, now an annual event celebrating their freedom and the night Nightshade City came to be.
Fall had swept in quickly, and dampened spirits needed to be lifted. Restless rats always felt the need to explore, and since Juniper had not yet put a ban on the citizens’ comings and goings Topside, the well-timed celebration might quell their anxiety just enough to keep everyone underground, at least for a little while.
Vincent sat silently, watching. Rats rolled barrels of Carro ale past him. Cole’s wife, Lali, had planned the menu. Plates of fine cheese and salted meats sat on every table. Steaming platters of smoked sausage and baskets piled high with Lali’s famous bitonberry biscuits whizzed by him. It took him back to the first party Nightshade City ever had, the Naming Celebration. He remembered how different things were just four years ago. Though he’d tried to be brave for Victor’s sake, he was scared stiff back then. Escaping the Catacombs, facing down Killdeer . . .
He looked proudly at Juniper. What could he say about him? Juniper had taken Vincent and Victor in, given them a place to live, and championed their father’s memory. He gave them love, pure and simple. He’d been a father to them in every sense.
Vincent thought of his mother and father. He prayed that they would have approved of what he had done in his life—and what he was about to do.
He looked across the room at Clover. She was laughing and dancing, twirling in a chaotic circle with Texi and Oleander, as Carn, Suttor, and Victor danced around them. She looked stunning, with her fawn-colored fur and marigold eyes, and of course that beaming smile.
“Why don’t you join us?” called Victor. “What are you doing over here all by your lonesome?” Catching his breath, he sat down next to his brother.
“Where’s Petra?” asked Vincent.
“She’ll be here soon. Her parents still won’t let her see me unescorted, so she’s coming with them. It’s so unfair.”
Vincent laughed. “Serves you right. You’re always trying to convince her to sneak out!”
“True,” said Victor, grinning mischievously, “but I’m quite worth sneaking out for.” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re lucky. Juniper lets you and Clover go out on your own anytime you like.”
“We are older than you and Petra.” He smiled in Clover’s direction, keeping his eyes on her as he spoke.
Victor leaned in and stared craftily at his older brother, still transfixed by Clover. “What’s got into you? You’re acting strange tonight . . . all sappy. You never act like that, thank the Saints.” Still watching Vincent, who seemed to be in some lovesick stupor, Victor suddenly gasped as though he’d just witnessed an appalling crime. He grabbed his brother’s arm and punched it as hard as he could.
“Hey!” shouted Vincent. “What’d you do that for? That hurt!”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Nightshade. After all, I know you! There’s something you’re not telling me.”
Rubbing his arm, Vincent broke into an ear-to-ear grin. “I couldn’t tell you. You know you can’t keep a secret. You get that doltish smirk on your face—a dead giveaway! This time you must be quiet, please.”
Victor looked at Clover. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”
“Victor, please,” said Vincent, “quiet down. I’m begging you. Only Juniper knows.”
“Well,” said Victor, motioning to Clover as she spun with Oleander and Texi in a dizzy circle, “when were you planning on asking her?”
“I’ve decided I’m not quite ready. It can keep. I’ll ask her in due time.”
Victor knew his brother too well. “Due time, my backside! If we do it your way, you’ll have one foot in the grave before you work up the nerve.” With that, Victor raced to the center of the room. Jumping up onto the makeshift stage where the band was playing, he stomped his foot and slapped his tail against the wood. “Excuse me!” he shouted as loud as he could. “I beg your pardon, one and all, but I’ve something to say!” The partygoers settled down a bit, but not to his liking. “I said, excuse me. Now hush up!” Finally Bostwick Hall quieted. All eyes were on him. He glanced over at Vincent, who sat on his stool trying unsuccessfully to hide his face in his paws. “I’ve an announcement to make—and it’s a whopper.”
Juniper glanced at Vincent’s mortified face and then at Victor. “Victor,” he called out in his most serious tone, “what are you up to?”
Giving an unbearably obnoxious smile, Victor winked at his brother. “I’m up to no good, Juniper. That’s what I’m up to.” The crowd laughed.
“I see,” said Juniper, walking toward Vincent. “And what, young Victor, do you have to announce?”
“I might as well die right now,” said Vincent, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole.
Juniper chuckled. “Son,” he whispered, “we’ve all been waiting for this moment—Victor the longest. You’ve no idea how many times he’s asked me about the two of you. He loves you both. Clover is as much his sister as you are his brother. Just as Clover needs to hear the words, so does he.”
Vincent got to his feet. He approached the stage, holding his paw out to his brother, who gladly pulled him up. Vincent stared out at the crowd. He saw all his friends. Oleander and Carn held paws, waiting excitedly. Cole gave Suttor a fatherly shove and the two of them laughed quietly. Ulrich stood happily next to Texi, while Virden and Ragan just smiled.
Clover stood in front of the stage, looking up at Vincent confusedly. He jumped back down from the stage right in front of her and took her paw in his, holding it to his chest. There were so many things he wanted to say, but at that moment none of it came to mind except one thing. “The day I met you, I knew that you were special—and not because our fathers were best friends. You were a survivor. You stayed strong and lived through Killdeer’s reign, but you never lost sight of who you were, always with your sunny outlook. After all you’ve been through, you have the most open, compassionate, tender heart anyone could ever know.”
Clover’s pulse raced. She looked at Juniper, who smiled at her, wrapping his arm around Mother Gallo’s shoulder. “It’s all right, dear,” Mother Gallo whispered to her. Julius, Nomi, and the other children gathered around her. “Your heart will lead you.”
“Say yes, Clover!” cried Julius. “You must say yes!”
“Shhh,” said Juniper in a hushed voice, holding a claw to his lips. “That part hasn’t happened yet.”
“Say yes!” repeated Nomi, bouncing up and down.
Mother Gallo scooped her daughter up in her arms. “Hush, dear.”
Vincent looked at Clo
ver’s expectant face, the face he had first seen four years ago when he’d reached his arms up to help her into the tunnel they’d dug to Nightshade City. “Say yes . . . to me.” She looked around nervously. “Marry me, Clover.”
“Oh!” said Clover, her legs weakening. Trying to block out the noise of the crowd, she closed her eyes, recalling the look on Vincent’s face the first time she ever saw him, his determined green eyes. Clover’s feet suddenly felt rock solid. Her thundering heart wasn’t fearful. It was joyful. She took a step toward Vincent. She reached out, holding his face in both her paws. “You mean everything to me. You are my family.” She hugged him.
After a moment, Vincent pulled back and looked at her. “Is—is that a yes, then?”
Clover nodded. “Yes.” She turned around and looked at the breathless crowd. “Yes!” she shouted. She turned back to Vincent. Through the cheers, laughter, and singing, all she could see was him.
Vincent closed his eyes and held her close, lost in the lemony scent of her fur.
“Silvius,” whispered Ajax, after the long line of Toscans had greeted their king at a spur-of-the-moment celebration feast, “are you really all right?”
Silvius looked around the hall at all the smiling faces. “I’m certainly not cured . . . but I feel better, more like my old self.” He rested his chin on his paw. “Hearing Billycan’s story brought something back in me, something I’ve not felt in ages.”
“And what’s that?” asked Ajax curiously.
“Determination to stop Hecate,” said Silvius, “to never let another rat go through what we went through.” He huffed crossly. “It’s never right to let a single soul control the fates of so many others. Before Hecate, we worked together, as a kingdom. You were my adviser and friend, as were many others. Decisions were not made unilaterally by me; they were made by all.”
“You were—and are—a good king.”
“I never wanted to be king,” said Silvius. “I never asked for that. I only wanted to make lives better.”
Lords of Trillium Page 5
