The Twyning (39 page)

. . . to the Rock of State, where I sat alone with Floke. They had said nothing, done nothing, when they had been carried into the Great Hollow by Floke and his warriors. They were simply a tangle of young rat bodies, bound together for all their living days.

Their lives would be empty of fighting, fathering, or mothering. They would never belong to a court, or even have a name. Yet the Twyning changed everything. Its sacred presence calmed the kingdom. With it, with them, we all had hope. There was a future.

— Thank you, Floke.

I was alone with my old friend in a passageway behind the Great Hollow. It was his return, more even than the appearance of the Twyning, that had given me strength.

— A kingdom must have a twyning. I was doing my duty. I had no idea that the leader of the kingdom was none other than little Efren.

I nudged him, rather as I used to when we were ratlings, and Fang was still with us. Floke was a huge, powerful rat now, and bore the scars of a fighter. There was a sadness in his eyes that had not been there before. I nosed him again.

— Tell me about your brother.

— Fang? He fought in the battle. He did better than most warriors with four legs would do. Together we faced a dog and tore its face so that it ran away, yelping. But there were too many. They were everywhere. We went for the wire. Normally, Fang could flyte as well as any warrior, but with a single back leg, there was nothing he could do.

— I saw his body.

Floke looked at me suspiciously.

— You were there? And not fighting?

— I was living in the world above. I saw the battle, but from the far side of the fence. There was nothing I could do.

We sat in silence for a while. After the arrival of the Twyning in the Great Hollow, each court, under the leadership of a member of the Court of Governance, had gone to prepare for the battle, which, if the spies were right, would be coming soon. We were to meet the next day, to make the greatest decision in the history of the kingdom. Whether to attack or to wait until the enemy attacked us. There had been no more talk of ceremonies, of the need for a king.

— What should we do now, Floke?

He rested his chin on his front paws, deep in thought. His revelation, when it came, was uncertain.

— It must never happen again. A massacre like that.

— You think we must act first?

— That is what I should think as a warrior. Attack. Always attack. But there is something about humans now that is different. It is as if it is not enough to kill us. They are working together as never before.

Perhaps — I hesitated before revealing what had been on my mind — the time has come for the kingdom to move to another place.

— The enemy will follow us. It is everywhere.

— Yet we could live in peace.

Floke sat up, shocked for the first time by what I had said.

— The enemy will never be peaceful. Destruction is all it knows. Humans and rats. They are never far apart. We need each other.

And it was at that moment that something beyond me, outside what I was seeing and hearing in the Great Hollow, seemed to shake my body.

— Efren? Are you all right?

I was aware that he was looking at me oddly. I could sense that he was revealing, and yet nothing reached me.

Then, suddenly, I knew what was happening. I was hearing. Someone, something, was trying to reach me. My body shook, full of a desperate yearning that I had all but forgotten. A rat must never become caught up in the past, yet now I was traveling back to the world above, to a place of kindness.

Floke was standing over me now. I was on my side, twitching, wide eyed, but I could do nothing about it.

Before me, within me, I saw a mountain, moving shapes, the enemy. Then, as clearly as if she were there on the Rock of State, the love of my life.

— Malaika!

— Efren, it is me.

I closed my eyes, and I heard her reveal again.

— You must listen to me. I have news.

. . . looking into the darkness by the river. The gray-and-white hair on her small body stands on end, her eyes are wide, and she trembles like a bird about to take its first flight.

“She has found him,” Caz whispers.

It is a moonless night of gray mizzle, and we are seated on a tree stump by the riverbank as the rats talk to each other in their brains.

Life, truly, cannot be any stranger than this.

Caz raises a finger. Her face and hair are dripping, but she has thoughts only for the rats.

“Can you hear her call?”

I smile, not wishing to confess that I hear nothing but the sound of raindrops on the water.

“She’s calling Efren. She’s telling him she has news.”

So it continues for a while, the rat chat. Staring into the darkness. A whispered translation. Silence. Cold. Boredom.

I have been worrying about my Caz recently. She has never been the same since she was held captive by Champagne Charlie. She is more awake at night than she is during the daytime. When I touch her arm, it is as chill as a corpse’s, and yet such is her trance tonight, that she seems not to notice the cold at all.

Suddenly she starts.

“There!”

“Caz? Are you all right?”

She turns to me, and a strange smile is on her face.

“There he is. Surely you can hear?”

“Who is, Caz? What’s happening?”

She actually giggles now. It’s the first time I have heard that sound for a long time.

“Efren,” she says. “He’s revealing to Malaika.” She points to the dark tunnel leading into the earth. “He is there.”

“The rat? You’ve found it?”

Caz is gazing silently at her Malaika. Once more we are waiting on that winter’s night.

At some point, Malaika turns on Caz’s hand so that she is facing away from us and toward the tunnel. It is then that I notice a movement in the water.

The heads of two rats, as they swim together through the water, are moving closer to us. They turn and make for the bank, a matter of yards from where we are sitting.

“She’s shaking.” Caz smooths the fur on Malaika’s back.

The beasts, still in the water, are close to land when they see us. After a moment’s hesitation, the first of them, one of the biggest rats I have ever seen, moves toward us, heaves himself out of the water, and shakes himself like a dog.

“That’s not Efren,” Caz whispers.

The second rat is on land now. He moves past the larger beast and stands, boldly staring at us.

“But that is,” says Caz.

With a strange little squeak, Malaika makes a bolt for it. She slips down from Caz’s dress and scuttles toward the river. When she reaches the smaller of the two rats, they welcome each other noisily. He pokes at her eagerly with his nose. In response, she lies on her side, looking at him.

“That’s your rat, all right.” I smile at Caz.

“Efren’s saying that the other rat is called”— Caz frowned — “Foke or Floke, I think.”

“Whatever he’s called, he’s quite a beast,” I say.

Efren, followed by Malaika and then Floke, walks almost casually to another tree stump nearby and climbs up on it.

They turn to face us, the giant, the pet rat, and Efren. They are now close enough for me to see, even in the dark, the movement of their whiskers.

“Tell me what you know, Peter.” Caz speaks in a low voice, her eyes fixed on the rats. “Then I’ll reveal to them.”

What to say? That they were to be destroyed tomorrow? That every man with a dog that could kill rats will be doing his best to wipe them from the face of the earth?

“Just tell me what is planned,” Caz whispers.

“There will be another attack,” I tell her. “It will be when the sun goes down tomorrow.”

Caz takes a deep breath, as if reaching the rats through the power of her thoughts requires an effort of her body.

The rats remain still as they listen, only their whiskers twitching.

Caz looks at me again.

“They are to poison the sewage channels with gas,” I tell her. “They plan to force all the rats out of all the sewerage runs by the river. All escapes have been blocked.”

I decide not to mention that I was one of those who had done this work.

There is more silent, glassy-eyed communication between Caz and the rats.

“Efren needs to know where the battle will be.”

“Tell him that the battle will be in the field by the river once more. The rats are to be trapped inside the wire.”

Caz passes on the message.

“There will be more dogs, more men. The gas released in the sewers will be stronger than last time. It will be a bigger hunt.”

After Caz has revealed to them, the rats remain immobile for what seems like several minutes. I watch Efren, and I swear I can see when he is revealing. There is a tension in the body; his eyes become blank. I could almost swear that, at that moment, I can feel a tickling in my brain. His question reaches me.

— Why?

I close my eyes and reply, not through Caz but directly to the rat.

— They are afraid of you.

— Afraid?

Caz stares down at the ground. I sense that she shares my sense of shame.

— There are humans who want to destroy you and all other rats.

Hearing this, Efren seems to make himself bigger, his fur standing up on his back. The big rat places his body between us and Efren.

“We are here to help the rats.” I speak softly to Caz. “Tell them that not all humans are bad. He will understand it if you tell him.”

Caz reveals, opening her palms as she does so. When she has finished, Malaika moves closer to Efren.

Beside me, Caz murmurs, “She’s telling them we are good.”

“Trust,” I say. “They must trust us.”

The rats remain tense, on guard.

“They must get away from this place before it is too late.”

Slowly, the smaller rat, Efren, begins to relax. The big beast, though, still has the look of one who might attack us.

Then, without warning, Efren turns to make a slow, sorrowful progress toward the water. The other rat, Floke, follows, leaving Malaika alone on the stump. As Efren reaches the bank of the river, she scurries after him.

Efren turns sharply and nips her. She squeals in surprise.

“He wants her to stay with us here,” Caz says. “She wants to follow him.”

“Let her decide.”

Malaika looks up at us. Caz kneels on the wet ground, her hand held out.

“Malaika.” She says the name out loud. “Come, Malaika.”

The pet rat makes her way slowly up the bank. Without a backward glance, she climbs onto Caz’s hand.

Caz stands, holding her rat close to her.

From the riverside, Efren is watching us. Then, within my head, I hear him reveal more clearly and strongly than I have ever experienced before.

— We shall stay. If we retreat now, we shall always retreat. We have a right to our world.

“Not all humans are your enemies.” I speak loudly, but the rats are not startled or afraid.

— The future will hold the truth.

With that, Efren slips into the water, followed by Floke. They swim slowly into the dark cavern, and soon are gone.

. . . Floke set off to find all the members of the Court of Governance. It was time to prepare for the battle ahead.

Now I was alone in the Great Hollow, except for the Twyning, which writhed and undulated with its own strange form of life on the far side of the river.

— What is the right thing to do?

My revelation was to myself, but also to the many-headed Twyning.

I had never fought for the kingdom. While others were dying, I had watched. At the very moment when the enemy had been preparing to attack the kingdom, I had been among them. Citizens looked to me for decisions that would cost the lives not only of them but perhaps of the entire kingdom.

How had I, Efren of the Court of Tasting, come to be in this position? What right had I to decide anything beyond what I should do? If I crept away right now, to move quietly among the rank of citizens, what harm would that do? I had never wanted power. There were times when I thought that all I wished for was a life with Malaika.

Before me, the Twyning stirred, turning its many heads toward me. Its revelation was stronger and more powerful than that of any king or courtier. It was like a burning in my brain.