Beasts of New York: A children's book for grown-ups

by Jon Evans

  "There isn't any food left," Twitch said dolefully.

  Patch nodded.

  "Maybe if I go back to the maple there'll be food there. Maybe someone found some acorns!"

  Patch sighed. "I don't think so. But we can dig for more worms." The ground around them was pockmarked by holes and little piles of earth where squirrels had done just that.

  Twitch groaned. "I don't want to ever eat another worm again. I don't think they're really food, Patch. I want acorns. Or tulip bulbs. Oh, tulips. Maybe there are tulips in the Labyrinth!"

  The Labyrinth, a walled garden where humans tortured plants and flowers into growing in straight lines and sharp corners so unnatural that it almost hurt the mind to see, was east of Thorn's court, on the very edge of the Center Kingdom.

  "We can't go the Labyrinth, Twitch. We're surrounded."

  "Maybe we can sneak through. It's quiet. They're not attacking."

  Twitch was right about that much. There hadn't been any enemy incursions all day. Patch wondered if the enemy was massing for the final battle. If so, win or lose, this would likely be the last day alive for most of the squirrels around him, and for Patch and Twitch as well.

  "Patch!" a voice shouted, and Nighteye pelted out of the bushes and towards them. "Patch, you are needed!"

  Patch came to his feet, his every muscle taut with tension. "What is it?"

  Nighteye looked at him for a long moment. It took Patch some time to recognize his commander's strange expression as awed deference. "It was all true, wasn't it? Everything you said."

  "Yes. Why?"

  "She's asking for you."

  "Who is?"

  Nighteye said, "The Queen of All Cats."

  And a broad smile began to spread across Patch's face.

  Twitch asked, "Who's that?"

  "A friend of mine," Patch said. "Where is she?"

  Nighteye led him through the bushes through what was left of King Thorn's territory, a half-dozen tree-lined ridges teeming with exhausted squirrels and watchful crows. From the crest of the final hill Patch looked down a gentle slope, across the Ravine, towards the trees where Redeye's army waited. He could see them moving in the branches and the shadows, and he could smell them in the wind. He smelled uncertainty among the enemy squirrels.

  But most of all he saw and scented old friends. Standing on a concrete human bridge that spanned the Ravine were Zelina and seven other cats, all of them sleek and strong; and one of them, sleekest and strongest of all, his pale fur scored with countless battle-scars, was Alabast. Patch laughed with sheer delight and sprinted out across no-squirrel's-land and to the bridge.

  "Patch, oh, thank the moon!" Zelina cried. "What's going on here? Those squirrels didn't want to let us past, and they stink of Rat."

  "They're commanded by rats," Patch said. "Their king is moon-sworn to Lord Snout. We're fighting a war here. It's… " He tried to find the words to explain how awful and final their situation was, how every squirrel of the true Center Kingdom was doomed to imminent death.

  "Oh, how dreadful. But it's so good to see you. You look… " She peered at him closely. "Oh, dear. Frankly, you look even worse than the first time I saw you. Is that blood on your face? Patch, really, can't you keep yourself clean?"

  "I haven't had - Zelina, there's a war on! Snout wants to kill every squirrel in the Center Kingdom!"

  "Yes, I heard." Zelina frowned as if he had reminded her of an inconvenient detail. And then, in a voice Patch had never heard from her before, a voice as smooth and cold as water-washed ice, she said, "And I am most displeased."

  Patch blinked.

  "Did he think I wouldn't hear of this? Did he think I wouldn't intervene? My personal friendship with you aside, I can't allow the rats to rule this kingdom. Or does he dare imagine his snivelling armies of rats and moon-sworn traitors can stand against me? If he actually tries to fight, I'll gut him myself."

  Patch stared at Zelina, wondering if she had fallen back into the same delusional state in which he had met her.

  "Milady," Alabast said, his voice very serious, "if these squirrels behind us are truly commanded by Lord Snout, then we are now surrounded by one of his armies. When he learns that you are here -"

  "You said the messengers have been dispatched," Zelina interrupted.

  "They have. But as your warlord and chief bodyguard, I must advise you to escape now, before Snout learns of your presence and battle is joined."

  "We're not leaving," Zelina said fiercely.

  Alabast smiled grimly. "So be it."

  The big white cat turned to face the squirrels of the Meadow, who were watching from the distant branches with wide and worried eyes. And Patch blinked with amazement; for Alabast's motion revealed another white-furred creature, small and wide-eyed, huddled in the midst of Zelina's cats.

  "White!" Patch cried. "Sun and moon and stars! What are you doing here?"

  "She brought us here," Zelina said. "I wanted to see you, Patch, so we came to the Center Kingdom, and found your scent at her tree. She told us of the war, and where we would find you now if you were still alive, and very kindly offered to lead us here."

  "I thought maybe it would help," White said quietly.

  "It does," Patch said.

  But in his silent heart he didn't think it helped enough. Zelina and seven warlike cats would be deadly in battle, could probably kill dozens of squirrels and scores of rats; but that wasn't near enough. King Thorn's forces were outnumbered by hundreds and hundreds. Maybe the cats could delay defeat long enough for Karmerruk to kill Redeye and Sniffer and Snout before all was lost - but even that hope seemed faint and desperate. Their enemy was too shrewd and too numerous.

  "Alabast is right," he said to Zelina. "You should go while you can."

  "Patch," Zelina said, "I do not shrink from blood and battle. I am the Queen of All Cats, and my duty is to slay my enemies or die in the attempt."

  Patch hesitated, then asked, very quietly, "Are you really?"

  Zelina smiled slightly and answered, in a similar near-whisper, "It seems so."

  "Take us to your King," Alabast suggested. "We're exposed out here. And I'm sure Snout will attack the moment he learns of our arrival."

  "When do you think that will be?" Patch asked.

  Alabast glanced up at the high sun, and said, casually, "He'll come tonight. With every rat and squirrel he can muster. One way or another this will all be over by dawn."

  11. Tension and Intention

  As Zelina, Alabast, Thorn, Stardancer, Silver and Sharpclaw made battle plans high on the great oak, Patch rested beside Twitch on the ground below, and tried to ready himself for death. Many other squirrels around them were watching Patch sidelong, with hopeful, expectant expressions, as if because a few cats had come for him he might somehow singlehandedly save the Center Kingdom.

  He could not look at them. As far as Patch could tell, there was no way to win. His one hope had been that he might somehow spot Redeye and Sniffer in the enemy army, and point them out to Karmerruk, who could kill them like a lightning bolt with wings. But that hope had been extinguished by the prospect of fighting at night. It was true the moon would be full, and perhaps its pale light would be enough for the hawk to see by, but it would not be enough for Patch. There was nothing left but to fight to the end, to the death, to the last squirrel.

  "Did your friends bring any food?" Twitch asked hopefully.

  Patch shook his head miserably.

  Twitch sighed. "Well, I guess there'll be food tomorrow. I mean, if I'm still alive. I hope I am. I always hoped that when my time came, I wouldn't be hungry."

  "If you get the chance, Twitch, you should get away."

  "Get away?"

  Patch looked sternly at his friend. "Yes. You're strong enough, no one will choose to fight you if they don't have to, maybe you can escape the battle. Go across the mountains to the Western Kingdom. It's better than dying here."

  "Escape? Patch, I can't do that. I'd be the last one of
my tribe! The last Treetops ever! I wouldn't have any friends, or anything! I'd rather it was my time."

  Patch sighed and nodded sadly.

  Twitch said, "I just wish I wasn't hungry."

  Patch heard hisses and gasps from up above, and looked up to see White padding slowly down the oak trunk. Other squirrels drew away from her as if she carried the blackblood disease.

  Patch bared his teeth angrily, and called out, "White! Down here!"

  Her eyes lit up and she trotted down to the ground and joined Patch and Twitch. Squirrels all around broke into a low hubbub of discussion - how was it that Patch, their one hope of victory, friend to cats and hawks, could consort with this half-tail albino?

  "This is Twitch, my oldest friend, the strongest and bravest squirrel in the Center Kingdom," Patch said. "This is White. She saved my life."

  "Oh, good. I'd hate it if Patch was dead. Did you bring any food?"

  White said, "No, I'm sorry."

  "I've never met a white squirrel before," Twitch said, interested. "Is it true you're cursed by the moon?"

  Patch froze, worried that White would be horribly offended, but she actually laughed, if incredulously. "Do you know, Twitch, you're the first squirrel to ever ask me that? Most others think they already know everything there is to know about me."

  "Oh, not me," Twitch said, very seriously. "I hardly know anything at all."

  "I think that makes you very wise. The answer is, I don't know, Twitch. I know I cannot stand direct sunlight, and have to spend the noon in shade. I know other squirrels think my presence is a curse to them. But I don't feel cursed by the moon. When I watch her in the sky, I feel like I'm seeing my true mother."

  Twitch stared at her, stunned. "No one ever called me wise before."

  Patch said, "Twitch, if you're bitten by a blackblood rat tomorrow, go to White before it's too late." Not that he thought either would survive; but it was better to pretend that he expected victory.

  "When is too late?" Twitch asked.

  "Before the day is out."

  "Not necessarily," White said. "The blackblood-bitten sleep for days before they slip into death." She hesitated. "But few of them die in that way."

  Patch looked at her.

  "There's something I learned, Patch. The day after you left, I decided - I didn't want to be alone. I followed your trail. I went to the Ramble. There were crows there, eating the dead, but they didn't touch any of the blackblood squirrels. They left those squirrels for the rats."

  "And the rats ate them?"

  "No. They took them. They dragged them away."

  Patch blinked. "Took them where?"

  "I don't know exactly. The underworld. The Kingdom Beneath."

  "Why?"

  "I heard two rats talking. They said, they said the blackblood squirrels were food for the King Beneath. They said they made him stronger."

  After a moment Patch said, breathlessly, "The King Beneath is a myth."

  "Are you sure?"

  Patch thought of the terrifying, alien scent that had seeped out of the black hole Coyote had shown him, and said nothing.

  "I wish you'd stop talking about food," Twitch complained. "It just makes me hungrier."

  Patch forced a chuckle. "What would you like to talk about?"

  "I don't know." Twitch cast a longing eye towards the maple where the foodstores had been kept, when there had been food. "I just wish we could finish with all this waiting."

  Patch said, "It won't be long now." The sun seemed to be falling unnaturally fast. It was already halfway towards the horizon.

  "Look," Twitch said. "Here comes Silver."

  Patch's mother joined them. Her expression was grim.

  "What is it?" Patch asked.

  "They're coming," she said. "I don't think they'll actually attack until night, but we can't take chances. White, you stay with me. Twitch, Patch, join your war-clans, to your positions. This is it. Battle is coming."

  Twitch leapt eagerly to his feet. Patch stood up and stared at his mother. She approached him, and they nuzzled and drank in one another's scent, knowing it might well be the last time.

  "You've been the kind of son that every mother dreams of, when she learns she is with child," Silver whispered. "So brave, so strong, so wise. Such wonderful friends. Our only hope comes from your friends. I hope we can sit down some day, Patch, and you can tell me all your adventures, every friend and every detail. I hope we find that time."

  Patch's throat was too full to speak, and his eyes were full of tears, the world seemed to be shivering uncontrollably.

  "May the moon shine on us all," Silver said; and then she was gone.

  12. The Battle of the North

  The Battle of the North began just after the sun had set, beneath a sky still filled with light, a sky in which only a few stars were set. It began with the sudden charge of Redeye's entire army of Meadow squirrels. They were not divided into war-clans, as is customary with squirrel armies; rather, it was an all-out frontal attack across the length of the Ravine, as if the Meadow army was a single creature with hundreds of fangs and claws, seeking to overrun all of King Thorn's forces with a massed and overwhelming assault that very nearly succeeded.

  Patch's war-clan was stationed atop of the tallest tree on the battlefront, and had been told to remain there, to give Patch the best possible chance of spotting Redeye and Sniffer. Patch saw immediately that there was no hope of success; in the fading darkness all the squirming hundreds of squirrels below looked identical.

  "Down!" he shouted to Nighteye. "We have to go help!"

  Nighteye hesitated. "We were ordered to stay with you until -"

  "Then stay with me," Patch interrupted, and raced down the huge maple tree and into the fray.

  Without realizing it he happened to leap from its trunk into a knot of snarling Meadow squirrels - and would have died a few breaths later if his war-clan had not followed him and fought with breathtaking ferocity. The subsequent melee of fangs and claws and blood and shrieking fury seemed endless while it was happening; when it was over, when the entire Meadow war-clan lay dead beneath the darkening sky along with Nighteye and two other of Patch's companions, it seemed to have lasted no more than a heartbeat.

  For most, this first wave of battle was less devastating, but the general outcome was the same. Thorn's army repelled the Meadow charge, but at great cost to both sides. As the Meadow retreated, they left the air behind them filled with screams and panic-smells of wounded and dying squirrels. Patch heard the agonized hissing of at least one cat as well, and hoped it was not Zelina.

  The wounded squirrels who could limped back to Thorn's court. Others were dragged there by their friends. Others died where they lay. Those still able-bodied waited, peering into the distant night, now lit only by the pale disc of the moon. Her silver light shone on a sudden explosion of motion, and a great cry of dismay and rage erupted from Thorn's army as the Meadow squirrels charged again - this time, accompanied by what seemed like all the rats in the world, so many that it looked as if the ground itself was moving towards them.

  "Fall back!" Patch heard. Sharpclaw's voice. "Fall back or we are overrun!"

  He, Quicknose, and the other two war-clan survivors backed away from the oncoming wave of flesh, almost to Thorn's oak: then battle was joined, and Patch lost all sense of place. There was nothing in the world but an unbroken sea of churning fur and flesh, an endless orgy of gouging and tearing and ripping with teeth. Quicknose fell beneath two Meadow squirrels, and Patch came to his aid too late; he clawed the eyes from one, and bit the throat from the other, but his friend lay dead in a widening pool of blood. Then there were more rats and squirrels, Patch didn't know if the latter were friend or foe, and the ground was so thick with blood it was like wading in mud. Patch fell, and rats ran over him as if he was one of the dead. He barely managed to pull himself free from the blood-thickened muck. There was a tree nearby, he could see it against the darkness, and he leapt for its trunk and man
aged to climb halfway up, tried to take stock of the situation while the battle swirled and raged below. Patch sniffed the air instinctively, and froze. Sniffer was near.

  He looked around, but all he could see was dim and frantic motion, squirrels and rats, rats and squirrels - wait. There, just there, behind the battlefront, at the edge of his moonlit vision, the largest rat he had ever seen was talking to two squirrels. Lord Snout, Sniffer and Redeye. They stood complacently, as if victory was already assured, as the battle line raged past the tree on which Patch stood, ever closer to King Thorn's oak.

  Patch dropped to the ground and charged. He was doomed; everything he knew would die tonight, friends, family, war-clan, tribe, kingdom, but maybe he could kill the worst of his enemies before he died. He knocked over two rats who got in his way and very nearly made it all the way before a thick cluster of rats first barred his path, and then surrounded him. Patch fought in a whirling frenzy, biting and clawing like he was rabid, trying to make his way to Snout, Sniffer, and Redeye - who respectively looked amused, amazed, and frightened as they watched - but they were too many, a half-dozen rats had leapt onto Patch and sank their teeth into his flesh, they were dragging him down, they were turning his head to expose his throat to a killing bite -

  - and then another squirrel entered the fray, crashing into the rats, sending most of them tumbling away from Patch. It was Silver. But as Patch's mother tore apart the rats about to kill her son, Snout leapt on top of her, dug his claws into her sides, and bit her in the back of the neck. Silver fell heavily to her belly. She bucked and writhed, trying to free herself, but Snout was too big, too strong. Patch, dazed and bleeding, tried to come to her aid, but he was surrounded by more rats, a river of rats had streamed onto the battlefield from somewhere, they were all around him, there was no way out.

  Then he shrieked, as new agony laced into his back; and gasped, as the ground fell suddenly away from him and a great wind beat at his fur. No, not wind. Wingbeats. He was rising above the battlefield, caught in Karmerruk's claws.