by Alex Milway
“You’re probably right,” she said quietly.
“But this matter with the escaped mice…,” he said ominously. “Is Hamlyn secure?”
Pettifogger smarted a little. Indigo’s leaving present had dealt a greater blow to the Trading Center than even he could have imagined.
“Hamlyn is under quarantine,” she said. “The Old Town Guard has blocked the port, and no one can leave or enter.”
“Good… these violent golden breeds of yours could be our downfall if word gets out.”
“I know, I know. But I have it on good authority that the best and most discreet Mousehunter in Midena will arrive soon. We shall have the mice back under observation in no time.”
“Make certain it happens…. I—”
Lovelock suddenly grasped his chest. His body slumped toward the window, and his face pressed into the glass.
“Isiah?!” shouted Lady Pettifogger, leaping up and rushing to her friend. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Lovelock’s legs buckled and he tumbled to the floor. His breathing became forced and his vision was clouding over.
“The curse…,” he muttered. “Something’s happened…. Mousebeard…”
Acknowledgments
A FEW PEOPLE HAVE HELPED ME IMMEASURABLY during the making of this book:
Tom Percival—thanks for all your support and excellent advice.
John, Justine, and Willa at The Bookseller Crow—I couldn’t have asked for a better bookshop at the top of my road.
Fraser Campbell—what a great idea for a mouse you had!
Susi Weaser and Laura Smith—you promised to dress as mice and you didn’t let me down!
Mum, Dad, Gran, Rob, Cindy, Bob, and Jeanette Lee—thank you for being parents.
Katie Lee—not only are you the inventor of exploding mouse poo, but you’re also my favorite girl.
And a special thank-you goes to:
Brennan Alkin, Oliver and Caroline Battersby, Lia Devlin, John Fenech, the Garners, and Glen Lovelock—without you I’d have had to come up with a load of other names!
