Lords of Trillium

by Hilary Wagner

  Victor suddenly grabbed Billycan’s arm, frantically pulling on it. “For goodness’ sake, what is it?” asked Billycan.

  “That rat,” Victor hissed. “I know him! He’s one of the lost Hunters . . . Otto. I’m sure of it!”

  “Otto,” said Billycan, his mouth curling into a grimace. “That is him, isn’t it? I recall him from the Combs. Quite an annoying fellow, if I remember correctly—though he always had his stipend at the ready, I’ll give him that.”

  “All right, old boy,” said Dr. Sheppard soothingly as Walter held the motionless Otto in his hands. “Welcome to the future.” She took the needle and plunged it into Otto’s belly. He didn’t move at all as the black fluid entered his system. The other scientists had gathered around, all watching eagerly.

  Walter held Otto up so everyone could have a look. For a few moments nothing happened, then suddenly Otto’s body started shifting and writhing like a puppet attached to invisible strings. Victor cringed as Otto’s bones moved beneath his skin, as though they were alive. His torso stretched and his tail pushed out from its base, growing noticeably longer. His four paws widened right before their eyes, and one by one each claw extended into a sharp, lethal point. His ears grew rounder and larger, and even his whiskers shot out a bit. Some of the scientists gasped or covered their mouths in shock.

  “Wait,” said Dr. Sheppard, “this is the best part.”

  Otto’s face was changing. His snout shortened and widened. His whitish muzzle shifted back to its original youthful gray, and his aging yellow teeth instantly turned to a gleaming, healthy white.

  “We have our answer, gentlemen,” she said. “This miracle mineral, combined with our state-of-the-art pharmaceuticals, has produced the world’s first age reversing drug. Not only will it make us look younger, in essence we will be younger. We can be reborn!” She looked down at Otto and then back at Walter. “And it’s all thanks to Dr. Harris.” The scientists cheered and shook hands, patting Walter and each other on the back.

  Victor’s jaw dropped in horror at the spectacle, the realization that all the rats in the dome were once full-grown adults, now nothing more than overgrown monsters with the angelic faces of children. He wondered how many of them he might know. “They—they wouldn’t do such a thing. They—they wouldn’t. They couldn’t!”

  Billycan, not one to mince words, looked down at the rats. “They did.”

  “There’s no way we can stop the humans,” said Victor, shaking. “We are powerless against them.”

  “Think of those twenty dead rats, those youthful faces you just saw tossed into an incinerator. Maybe we can’t stop them, maybe we’ll fail quite miserably, but Victor, we have to do something. We have to try.”

  Victor’s jaw stiffened. He forced himself to stop shaking. “You’re right.”

  It was just as Silvius had predicted. The humans had found the longevity drug they’d been seeking—an undeniable fountain of youth. And what human wouldn’t do just about anything for that?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Bats in the Belfry

  JUNIPER, TAPPING HIS FOOT RESTLESSLY on the floor, listened from the vent. The breathing coming from the rats in the lab was labored and shallow. From his vantage point, nothing could be seen but the tops of cages and the muted glow coming from lab equipment. “It’s been too long. Why has he not returned? Something is wrong!” he finally said.

  “There’s no commotion in the lab,” said Vincent calmly. “If he’d been captured or something had gone awry, we’d know it. We heard the human come back. He was there only a few minutes and then left with hardly a peep.”

  “Vincent’s right,” said Cole. “If anyone was going to put up a fight, it would be Billycan. Trust me, we’d have heard it.”

  “Give him a little more time, Uncle,” said Clover, squeezing his paw. “We have no idea how large the lab is.”

  Something chinked against the vent. No one moved their feet, but they raised their weapons. The sound came again, something hitting the metal and then falling back to the floor. Juniper nodded to Carn and Suttor, who aimed their daggers at the opening. Again something was thrown, only this time it landed inside. Everyone looked down at it curiously. It was a powdery blue object in the shape of a malformed ball.

  Stepping cautiously toward it, Carn nudged it with his dagger. He bent down, sniffing. “Smells ghastly,” he whispered, taking a step back.

  “It could be poison,” said Oleander. “In the swamp, anything that’s not green or brown is usually toxic.”

  “Like that elephant ear I ate in the swamp, that made my face swell up,” said Carn. “That leaf was bright red.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Oleander!” whispered a barely audible voice from inside the lab.

  Her ears perking, she looked at Carn. “Did you hear that?” Carn nodded.

  “Oleander!” the muffled voice called again.

  Rats began to stir in the cages below them.

  Oleander got on her knees and stuck her head outside the opening of the vent, searching through the shadows. Quickly she pulled her head back inside. Her cocoa brown skin had drained of color. “It’s Cobweb,” she said feebly, her dark eyes wide. “How did he get here?”

  Juniper and the Nightshade rescue party gathered around Cobweb and Montague. Several caged rats had spotted them entering the lab. Juniper assured those who were awake that rescue was coming, but they must stay silent for now and locked in their cages, as though nothing had changed. The rats were lean, their coats thin and drab, their eyes hollow. No one raised a fuss. Even the albinos were levelheaded, leaving Juniper to wonder where the rats who ended up insane like Topher and Liam were being caged.

  “Billycan went with the scientist. He knows him from before,” said Montague.

  “Where did they go?” asked Vincent.

  “We don’t know,” said Cobweb. “There was a cart . . . dead rats and bats on it. Billycan wanted to see where they were being taken. He said there could be more rats trapped somewhere else.”

  “Indeed,” said Juniper, “this place seems endless.” He looked across the lab. “Where are the bats roosting?”

  “That way,” said Cobweb, pointing into the dark.

  “Oleander!” said Telula, skidding into the shavings on the bottom of the plastic cage. She stopped just short of the pane, a perfect landing. “So it’s true! Thank the Saints, you’re here!”

  “Oh, Telula,” said Oleander, running up to the pane, “I’m glad you’re all right.”

  Cotton landed next to his sister. “Vincent, it’s such a relief to see you. When we saw Billycan we didn’t know what to think.”

  “Have you seen my brother?” asked Vincent.

  Cotton shook his head. “No, just Billycan.”

  Juniper patted Vincent’s shoulder. “We’ll find him soon enough. He may be trapped upstairs, unable to find the lab.”

  Dresden came down next to Telula. The rest of the colony gathered around them or dangled from synthetic branches, listening.

  “Cobweb, Montague, it’s good to see you in one piece. Your efforts to save us were heroic indeed,” said Dresden.

  “If only we’d arrived sooner, perhaps we could have gotten you out,” said Montague, staring regretfully at his brother.

  “Without your valiant efforts, the swamp rats might be here as well. You got them to safety before the humans could find them. You cannot blame yourself,” said Dresden. He smiled at Juniper, revealing his glossy white fangs. “Besides, our city friends have come to our assistance . . . once again.”

  “Let’s see if we can’t get you out of this fix, old friend,” said Juniper, forcing a reassuring smile. He inspected the smooth plastic cage, eyeing the symmetrically placed air holes, far too small to escape from. “How have the scientists been getting bats in and out?”

  Dresden gestured with his wing to the back of the cage, which was mounted to the wall. There was the outline of a door. “It opens from the other side. We’ve worked on t
he edges for days, but can’t even make a dent in them.”

  “What’s that?” asked Juniper, pointing to a plastic tube that came from the wall and into the cage.

  “That’s dinner,” said Cotton.

  “They blow insects inside the cage through the wall vent,” said Telula.

  “Those screws,” said Vincent, pointing up to where the plastic pipe was attached to the cage by means of a square base with one screw in each corner. “They look just like the ones on the vent we came in from. If we can unscrew them, the bats can fly out through the hole, directly into the lab.”

  “There’s nothing to hang on to,” said Juniper. “We could use the air holes for grip, but they stop halfway up the cage.”

  A popping sound came from the wall. Everyone turned. Duncan had ripped a substantial orange cord from the electrical outlet on the wall. Immediately he followed the cord to the end attached to the machine, sat down, and began chewing at breakneck speed.

  “Duncan!” said Cole, trying to keep his voice down. “What in the name of the Saints do you think you’re doing?” He remembered Duncan’s growling stomach back in the museum. “You can’t possibly be that hungry!”

  “You’re going to electrocute yourself,” barked Suttor, staring at his brother in utter bewilderment.

  “No, I’m not,” said Duncan between chews. “Not if the machine’s unplugged. Besides, do you have a better way to get up there?”

  At first they wanted to drape the cord over the pipe, with rats holding one end of it to the floor while a single rat scaled up the other side, but the cord was simply not long enough. So instead Suttor, a former member of the Kill Army and trained in such matters, whipped the pronged end of the cord over the pipe so that it wrapped several times and anchored itself. “I never thought I’d be thankful for my Kill Army training. Life is strange.” He yanked on the cord, lifting his feet off the ground and dangling for a moment, testing it with his body weight. “I don’t know for how long, but it should hold long enough for me to climb up there.”

  “Let me go,” said Cole, taking the cord from Suttor. “I don’t want to risk you falling.”

  “I’m a trained fighter,” said Suttor, puffing out his chest. “I don’t need mollycoddling, you know. Mother does enough of that for both of you.”

  “It’s not that,” said Cole. “I know you are up to the task, but let your old man do the heavy lifting for once.”

  “Let me do it,” said Oleander. “These bats are from my home.” She smiled gratefully at Telula. “They are quite dear to us.” A mischievous smirk spread across her face. “Besides, I’m the best climber I know.”

  “She’s faster than most squirrels!” agreed Cotton.

  “It’s true,” added Telula. “She nearly sprints up the cypresses back in the swamp.”

  Cole looked at Carn, who held his paws up as if he’d already surrendered. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “It’s pointless! She’ll do what she wants anyway.”

  “You’re absolutely sure,” said Cole. Oleander nodded. He gave the cord a finally yank, testing it one last time. “All right, then.” He handed her the cord.

  “Everyone, watch her closely,” said Juniper. “If Oleander loses her grip, we must be ready to catch her.”

  Oleander wriggled up the cord until she reached the base of the plastic cage, and then used her feet for leverage against it. Everyone watched as she quickly pulled herself up to the top of the rectangular cage and then braced her feet on the plastic pipe. She straddled the pipe where it met the cage and began working on the screws, remembering how easily Billycan had loosened the ones on the vent.

  She grunted, using all her strength to loosen one just a little. “C’mon, you,” she whispered, “move!” She strained her forearms, and the screw finally gave way. She sighed with relief and waved down to the others, showing the freed screw in her paw. She tossed it down to them, Carn catching it before it had a chance to hit the tile floor.

  “All right,” said Oleander, “on to number two.” She stretched out her paws and reached around to the other screw on the top of the pipe. This time she used the palm of her right paw and pulled with the left, gnashing her teeth as the screw dug into her skin. “C’mon, you wretched screw, turn!” All of a sudden the screw gave way, coming out of the cage wall and into Oleander’s paws. She yelped, nearly losing her balance, but her legs held fast. She grabbed the top of the pipe with her free paw.

  “Is she all right?” asked Carn, about to snatch the cord and start climbing.

  “She’s fine,” said Clover. “See?” Oleander waved again and tossed down the screw, which Vincent caught.

  “I’ll believe that when she’s back on solid ground,” said Carn.

  Oleander looked over her shoulder and down into the cage. The bats were swooping restlessly around the artificial trees, waiting for her signal. There were only two screws left on the bottom of the square plastic base holding the pipe to the cage. Rather than unscrew them, which would put her in a precarious position, having to reach down, Oleander pulled on the top part of the plastic where she’d already removed the screws. “Now then,” she said, grunting as she pulled, come loose . . . please. My arms can’t take much more of this.” The plastic started to give way. “That’s it!”

  She turned back and waved down to the colony. “All right, then. Let’s see how far you’ll bend.” She groaned as the pain in her arms increased. There was a snap as the plastic cracked off, leaving a hole large enough for a bat to escape. She shouted, “It’s open! C’mon, all of you! Hurry!”

  Just as her body relaxed for a moment, something hit her in the face. She grabbed for her snout, stunned by the force. She was struck again, then again, losing her grip as the hits kept coming. “Oh!” she screamed, starting to fall. She grabbed on to the edge of the hole she’d created, her legs dangling in midair.

  “Oleander!” shouted Carn. “Don’t let go!”

  She looked up, only to be met by a flood of flying beetles pouring out from the pipe. She grimaced at the site of them, squeezing her eyes shut, their meaty black bodies flying by her head. “June bugs!” she screamed.

  “Everyone, take wing!” said Dresden. “Now! Go after them before they send the entire lab into an uproar!” The bats shot out into the lab, stretching their wings, glad to be free of the tight cage, and happily tracking down the June bugs like a pack of winged bloodhounds.

  “Oleander, I’m coming!” Cotton blasted out of the cage and swooped around, diving toward her. He grabbed her by the shoulders, snapping at the steady stream of beetles, who quickly veered away from his shiny teeth. He plunged to the ground, setting Oleander down lightly.

  Carn grabbed her and hugged her tightly. “Are you all right?”

  “I think so.”

  Frenzied laughter came from the other side of the lab. “Oh no,” said Cotton.

  “What is it?” asked Juniper.

  “The beetles have awoken the Crazy Ones.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The Crazy Ones

  WAILING SCREECHES OF LAUGHTER SPEWED from the east section of the lab. Cages shook violently. Curses and nonsensical declarations bounced off the walls.

  “The damage is done,” said Juniper, running a paw over his face. “The commotion has sent them into a tailspin. Everyone, start unlocking cages.” He cringed as another wail came from the east section. “And for Saints’ sake, stay away from those troubled souls. They don’t know the danger they’re putting us in.”

  The rats spread out and unlocked the cages as fast as they could, climbing up and across the bars, telling the newly released rats to wait on the floor and stay away from the Crazy Ones. The bats carried the rats to cages that were in awkward positions with no easy access, making sure no creature was left behind.

  It seemed all of Juniper’s Hunters were dead or among the Crazy Ones. They released scores of albinos, many city rats, and nearly ten of Gwenfor’s dock rats, easily recognizable by their toughened exteriors
. The silver rings were missing from their ears, but the holes were still there.

  Juniper had no plan. The rats gathered on the floor around him, the bats swarmed over his head, every face looking for some sort of direction. He had none to give. Billycan was missing and Victor was nowhere to be seen. Then there were the Crazy Ones—what was to happen to them? It seemed wrong to leave them to die, but releasing them would put too many at risk. He thought of Maddy, his children, the citizens of Nightshade, his Council, their sacred oath to protect all rats. He worried that for the first time he might have to break it. Covering his face for a moment, he prayed to the Saints, hoping they would guide him.

  That’s when he heard them . . . footsteps. Human footsteps. There was nowhere to hide, no way to get them all back into their cages, and getting them up the vent and out into the museum would take too long. Nine rats coming down was a far faster process than over a hundred rats climbing up. Suddenly inspiration struck.

  “Someone’s coming! Everyone, quickly now, we must scatter!” he shouted. “We must look as though we have lost our minds, as if our faculties are completely gone. Act wild—out of control. Make them think we’re sick and dying. Dresden, your colony must crowd around their heads, flap your wings, graze their skin. Rats, we must frighten the humans as only rats can! Show your teeth, flare your claws—but above all, no violence! It will only cause them to take arms against us. We must make whoever’s coming leave the lab. It’s our only chance of getting out of here alive!”

  Juniper’s hackles rose as he heard the door opening. “Not yet! Wait for my signal!”

  Walter entered the darkened lab with Dr. Sheppard. She groaned and shook her head. “They’re at it again,” she said. “At this late hour you’d think even our little Crazy Ones would need rest. Don’t you think it’s time to put them to sleep, Dr. Harris?” She gave a pained smile. “I know you care for them, but it’s the humane thing to do. Like you said in the Clean Room, if we don’t look out for their welfare, no one will.”