by Rina Heisel
“We’ll worry about stopping an Arakni invasion later,” Tobin said. “First we need to find our pinkling.”
Camrik nodded. “There are three things you should know before embarking on the Arakni trail. First, the hunt is over tonight. Any Arakni you follow will lead you back to the lair.”
“Got it,” said Tobin.
“Wait.” Wiley raised a paw. “That means they won’t go back to the Great Burrow this hunting cycle?”
“Correct.” Camrik continued, “Secondly, their lair is more than a day’s journey from here. My mother tried to follow them once as well. But the Arakni traveled too far; she didn’t want to leave us pups . . .” Camrik swallowed and cleared his throat. “Us pups that were left.”
Tobin shook his head. How could life be so different just a deer’s-leap across the creek?
“I’m sorry, Camrik,” said Talia.
“Don’t worry yourself, little mouseling.” Camrik forced a smile. “You needn’t fret about me. You’ve got bigger concerns.”
“You said there were three things we need to know?” Tobin asked.
“Yes,” said Camrik. “Lastly, an Arakni carrying a websack is practically in a trance. All it thinks about is getting home. They’re relatively easy to follow.”
“Sounds simple enough,” Wiley said.
Camrik’s eyes narrowed. “But the Arakni returning without a websack is near mad with rage. Those are the ones you need to watch out for.”
Tobin shivered. He was raised to know the forest was always watching him, he’d just never imagined its eyes were red.
Eight
“THAT’S JUST NASTY.” WILEY shook his head as he sniffed the air.
Tobin saw a hint of a smile tug the corners of Camrik’s mouth. “It’s a foul stench, yes. But it does make the Arakni easier to follow.”
“Thanks for getting us back on track, Camrik,” said Tobin. The four rodents sat at the forest’s edge nestled beneath a giant fallen maple leaf. Camrik had shown them the best way to track the Arakni—unfortunately it was by their terrible smell.
“It’s no bother,” Camrik answered, suddenly pressing himself low to the ground. “But you may not need to follow the stench. Look ahead.”
Tobin flattened, his eyes following Camrik’s gaze.
“You could just follow that,” Camrik finished.
An Arakni scuttled over the ridge of rocks they’d just climbed. Only a hare-leap away, it crept past them, a bundle clasped between its back pinchers. Tobin raised his chin to get a better look. The creature in the sack wriggled more than the pinkling, its legs springing against the stretchy webbing.
Wiley leaned in beside him. “A cricket?”
Tobin nodded, thinking back to the cricket he’d eaten a week ago. “Never thought I’d feel bad for a bug.”
“As long as that Arakni already has a catch,” said Camrik, “you can safely follow it.”
Talia’s ears perked. “That’s better than smelling our way there.”
“Then you have to go, quickly,” Camrik said. His striped forehead creased with worry. “Stop by my den on your way home. Once I know you’ve made it back to your burrow, I’d like to destroy that tree bridge.”
“But how?” asked Tobin.
Talia swished her tail. “Hey, that Arakni is getting away. C’mon!”
“You’ll see when you get back. Just hurry.” Camrik raised his paw and recited an ancient Rodentia farewell: “Swiftly and safely, be on your way.”
Tobin, Talia, and Wiley each raised a paw in return. “Swiftly and safely, till another day.”
Camrik nodded. He dashed from beneath the leaf, disappearing quickly in the forest brush.
Tobin turned his attention back to the cricket-carrying Arakni. It scuttled over a pile of pine needles and headed deeper into the woods. How many times had Tobin looked upon this stretch of forest from back home, across the creek? But now, standing on its edge, a shiver ran down his spine. Trees, so tall he couldn’t see their peaks, swayed and creaked in the breeze. Tiny flecks of sunlight poked through the needle-covered limbs, speckling the messy forest floor. The ancient woods provided lots of cover. But what else lurked in the litter?
“Stay close,” Tobin whispered. Neither Talia nor Wiley took their eyes from the woods. They nodded in silence.
Tobin lowered his head. His ears pricked forward as he peered through the brush ahead. Minus the giant spider they were tracking, it seemed safe enough to move. He darted into the woods, first diving beneath a fallen tree branch. His paw pads felt the vibration of Talia, then Wiley, slide in behind him.
Feeling safe, he hopped atop the branch. There, two hare-leaps ahead, he spotted the Arakni navigating through the biggest toadstool patch Tobin had ever seen. The oversize spider was attempting to wobble its way over the orange-and-white-spotted mushroom caps. Tobin knew that unlike the giant spider, they’d have no trouble slinking between the toadstool stalks. Raising his nose, Tobin sniffed the air, and his stomach growled. The carrot-colored fungi could take care of two problems—hide them from the spider and provide a little snack.
Tobin darted, plunging between two spongy stems. Wriggling into the thick of the toadstools, the smell of mushroom meat stirred a fierce hunger.
Rule #21: Like a leaping squirrel missing its branch, a missed opportunity cannot be saved.
Tobin looked over his shoulder. “Let’s grab a bite. Who knows when we’ll have another chance.”
Wiley needed no further convincing, chomping into the nearest stem. Talia sidled up alongside Tobin, plucking a smaller fungus from the ground to nibble on. Tobin stretched up and swiped his paws through the fleshy, gill-like filling of the toadstool cap above him, shoving the moist morsels into his mouth. As he chewed, he eyed the shadow of the Arakni scuttling above.
Tobin swallowed the last bits of mushroom mash. “We can eat more along the way. Let’s keep moving.”
Onward they wove through the toadstools, until the patch gave way to large clumps of ferns. Vines of forest grapes laced along the ground. All the while, the Arakni seemed oblivious to their presence, trudging ahead with purpose, never breaking its path, preferring to climb over a stone than walk around it.
From beneath a thicket of vines, Tobin studied the trees, noting the disks of fungus that clung to the tree trunks, all covering the same side of each tree. The north side.
“It knows its way home like a snow goose does,” Tobin said.
“Huh?” Wiley slunk up alongside him.
“Look.” Tobin pointed a tiny claw straight ahead. “The fungus all grows on the same side of each tree, like it’s pointing us in the direction of the spider lair.”
“And we can use it to show us the way home,” Talia added.
“Yes!” Tobin grinned; this was a lucky break. He looked ahead and spotted a gnarled tree root, twisting half in and half out of the ground—plenty of room for them to squeeze beneath. Perfect for their spider-trailing technique: following under cover. He sprang forward. Right as he did, a whiff of something peculiar crossed his nose.
Another animal.
Danger.
Snake.
“Bolt!” Tobin yelled, focused only on the tree roots and cutting the quickest path to them. His pumped his legs, the rest of the forest becoming a blur. A space between tree root and dirt was in reach, and he dived. Talia and Wiley crashed in behind him. Tobin threw them a sideways glance. All eyes wide, noses sniffing—they smelled it, too.
No one dared move. Tobin braced for an attack. Had the snake noticed them? Had they been upwind? Tobin let out a shaky breath when nothing immediately attacked.
The Arakni they were tracking wasn’t as lucky.
A sliver of motion caught Tobin’s eye.
There, ahead of them, was the snake. And it struck with reptilian precision at the Arakni, grabbing it with its jaws. The serpent propelled itself to the nearest tree, ramming the startled spider into the bark. The Arakni exploded on impact, its inner goo smearing the tr
ee bark and dribbling down the snake’s snout.
With a jerk of its head, the serpent flung the Arakni aside, a glint of green flashing from the snake’s eyes. The Arakni’s limp body landed with a splat outside their crawl space under the root. The websack rolled free—its inhabitant twitching wildly. Tobin’s eyes darted back to the point of attack. The snake was gone.
“The snake’s not eating it,” Talia whispered.
Tobin shrugged. “Let’s hope he just goes away.”
A fresh whiff of snake skin, sourer and more pungent than ever before, crossed his nose, and his hopes fizzled. It was close. But where? He didn’t dare peek out from beneath the tree root.
But peeking would not be necessary.
A red, fork-shaped tongue skimmed across the ground. A hiss reverberated into the tiny crevice. The fur on Tobin’s shoulders bristled. Pressed as far back into the root-covered crawl space as possible, Tobin fought the urge to close his eyes. The serpent’s snout slid into view. The scales shone black as raven feathers. It nudged forward, tongue flicking across the threshold of their crawl space. Then it stopped.
Could it reach them? Tobin felt Talia tremble and realized he was shaking, too.
Rule #10: The strategy for the trapped band of rodents is to scatter; better some survive than none.
Scatter.
He and Wiley would easily outrun Talia, leaving her to . . .
No.
Never.
“Wiley, hold on to Talia,” Tobin whispered.
Wiley laid a tentative paw on Talia’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”
Tobin willed his legs to quit trembling beneath him. “It knows we’re here. I’m going to give it something to chase.”
Nine
TALIA’S EARS DROOPED FLAT. “You can’t.” She tried to lunge toward Tobin, but Wiley hugged her close.
Tobin’s throat tightened. “Have to.”
“Let’s just wait until—” Wiley ducked his head just as the forked tongue flicked dangerously close.
The snake moved. Like a dark cloud passing the sun, its snout slid across the opening of their crevice. It pushed and probed. It was looking for a way in.
Tobin swallowed, though his throat felt coated with creek sand. He looked from Wiley to Talia and spoke fast. “Listen, Dad and I once watched a garter snake eat this huge lump of a toad. Dad said the snake wouldn’t need to eat for a week, maybe t-two.” Tobin stuttered at the memory of the slack-jawed snake, swallowing the toad with its eyes rolled up into its head . . . . “Anyway.” He shook his head. “That snake could sit there for days digesting its last meal, knowing we’re pinned in here for whenever it gets hungry again.”
The serpent cocked its head. The red tongue flicked low, lapping the dirt a whisker’s-width from their paws. The forked tip curled upward, brushing the tree-root canopy.
The snake’s tongue was long.
Vulnerable!
Tobin launched. Swiping his front paw over his head, his claws raked the pink, rubbery underside of the snake’s tongue. The serpent whipped its head back, injured tongue dangling, and Tobin darted just beneath its jaws. The warm air of a hiss blasted his fur as he bolted toward the nearest bush, just a hare-leap away. But the bush . . . moved. Its limbs squirmed.
It was full of snakes.
Tobin dug his claws into the ground, tried to pivot, but he tumbled forward, rolling straight into a nightmare.
He’d broken the Rules, and now he was going to die.
Snakes of all sizes, in shades of browns, greens, grays, wove through the branches of the bush. Their beady eyes stared down at him. A snake no bigger than a night crawler dropped from a limb and landed beside him, opening its mouth in a silent hiss.
Tobin scrambled to his feet and turned. The big black snake was upon him. He stood frozen, and the forest began to spin. Black dots of panic threatened to blind him. Snakes slithered in closer, from all directions. Dozens of them. Hundreds?
Tobin sat dead center in a ring of squirming, scale-covered serpents. They wove and tightened, creating a self-made barrier, closing in around him. Smaller snakes slid in to fill any gaps left by the bigger ones. Above him, the branches of the bush drooped with the weight of more spying serpents.
But no snakes struck at him. What are they waiting for?
The hissing grew louder, vibrating in Tobin’s ears. He closed his eyes. Whatever was about to happen, he didn’t want to see it.
“Sssuch bravery, from a moussse.”
Say what?
Tobin cracked open an eye. A snake covered in indigo-blue scales slid before him, staring down with piercing, golden eyes.
“Huh?” Tobin cleared his throat, letting a tiny squeak escape. Oh, very nice.
The corners of the snake’s mouth curled. A smile? “Ssso small, yet ssso brave.”
Tobin kneaded his paws into the ground, trying to summon the strength to speak. “Who . . . who are you?”
The indigo snake dipped her head. “Questionsss.” She spoke slowly, her mouth contorting on each syllable. Her words vibrated in Tobin’s ears like there was a bee trapped inside his head.
She turned to the crowd of snakes and spoke in her language. Harsh spitting, hisses, clicks and jaw snaps. Another snake slid forward to join them. Long, but not as thick as the indigo snake, this new serpent glistened black with a clover-green stripe racing down each side. It shook its head then opened its mouth, jaws stretching wide, impossibly wide.
Tobin’s breath caught in his throat. The serpent’s lip scales curled back, showing pointy teeth that curved backward. Teeth perfect for swallowing mice. Even the fur on his feet stood on end.
“Easssy,” the indigo snake cooed.
The black snake’s jaws snapped shut. The newcomer looked at Tobin and spoke. “Sorry. It’s easier to speak rodent-tongue if I stretch my mouth first. My name is Hess.”
Tobin’s jaw dropped open.
Hess cocked his head. “Hello? Am I speaking correctly?” The snake spoke clearly, though his voice carried the same vibrations that tickled Tobin’s eardrums.
Tobin nodded quickly. “I . . . I understand you.”
Hess tilted his head toward the indigo snake. “This is Queen Hesthpa, ruler of Serpentes. As her chosen interpreter, I speak on her behalf.”
Tobin looked from the snake queen back to Hess. The snake speaks better rodent-tongue than I do.
Hess continued. “Queen Hesthpa is curious why you and your two friends are following spiders.”
Uh-oh. A shiver ran from Tobin’s shoulders to tail. They’d been spied on—by snakes. “We just happen to be heading in that direction.”
“Come now.” Hess cocked his head. “No animal accidentally stays in the same proximity as those beasties if they can help it.”
Tobin tensed his whole body, hoping it would keep the shaking from his voice. “So what if we were following them?”
Hess raised his chin. “What direction were they heading?”
“Due north.” Tobin broke his gaze away from Hess and looked toward the woods. “The crescent fungus on the trees sprouts on the north side. It seems to point the way.”
Queen Hesthpa’s gold eyes twinkled. “S-s-ee? I told you mice were sssmart.” There was hunger in her eyes. She wanted something, but Tobin was beginning to think it wasn’t a mouse-sized meal.
A sudden squeal caught Tobin’s attention.
The ring of snakes parted, making way for two serpents. They each held a mouse in their mouths, hanging by the scruffs of their neck.
“Put me down!” Talia was yelling. Wiley looked like a miniature badger, his fur bristling and his teeth snapping through thin air.
So much for the escape plan. Tobin stomped a paw. “What are you two doing here?”
The snakes dropped the mice, who quickly darted beside him.
“What’s going on?” Talia asked.
Tobin shook his head, frustration briefly squashing his fear. “I don’t know, but I was kind of hoping you two would be lo
ng gone. Remember? I run; you guys go the other way?”
“The queen is interested in your journey,” Hess interrupted, then looked directly at Tobin. “Don’t be disappointed with your friends. We’ve had you all surrounded for quite some time. They weren’t going anywhere.”
Tobin’s legs suddenly felt a little wobbly beneath him. “But . . . why?”
“Quesstions,” Queen Hesthpa answered.
“Right, we have a partnership to discuss.” Hess narrowed his eyes, looking over the three mice. A partnership? Tobin’s mind was reeling.
“Why don’t we start with introductions.” The snake continued, “As I’ve said, my name is Hess. Who are the three of you?”
Talia’s jaw dropped. She stared at the talking snake, her wide eyes blinking.
For the first time in his life, Tobin saw his sister speechless.
Ten
SO FAR, COOPERATION WAS keeping them alive. Tobin wanted to keep it that way. He cleared his throat and spoke. “I’m Tobin, and this is my sister, Talia, and my best friend, Wiley.” Tobin nudged Talia’s shoulder.
“Um, hello,” said Talia, the word sounding more like a question than a greeting. Her stare traced a path along the long, emerald stripe running down Hess’s side.
Hess nodded. “Pleased to meet you.”
Tobin swallowed. Trying to keep his cool, he nodded toward the queen. “And this is Snake Queen Hesthpa.”
Talia’s focus snapped to the blue serpent coiled beside Hess. “A queen?” Talia lowered her voice, leaning toward Tobin. “We should let Camrik know ants and bees aren’t the only animals with queens.”
Queen Hesthpa raised her head with a regal nod. “Creaturesss can be ssso sssurprisssing.”
“So.” Tobin clenched the dirt beneath his paws to steady himself. “What did you mean when you said you had a partnership to discuss?”
Queen Hesthpa swung her head toward Tobin, her movement as fluid as poured water. “I sssaw you sssearching for ssspidersss.” Her tongue flicked, brushing Tobin’s nose. Her breath reeked of death. “I know what I ssssaw, and I want to know why.”
