The White Assassin (9 page)

Carn’s wheezy voice and clogged nose did not help Billycan’s impression of him.

“Sir,” said Thicket, pushing in between them, “Corn smell bad,
’cause he fell in some bugbane and then a bee done bit him on the nose, puffing up his face.”

Billycan rolled his eyes. It all made sense now. Corn no doubt looked like a typical swamp rat beneath all the swelling. “Yet another idiot Billycan must endure,” he grumbled. Carn’s ears perked at the remark. At least he knew his disguise was working.

“Oh, how absolutely horrid,” said Billycan, feigning concern. “What an awful chain of events for our esteemed snake killer.” He looked at Oleander, who hung on Carn like a new appendage. “Miss Oleander, I see you’ve found yourself a friend.”

“Yes sir,” she said, “swept me off my feet, Corn did!”

There was something about Oleander that appealed to Billycan, something different—something familiar. He chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Well, then,” he purred in an oily tone, “you and your snake killer must sit at my side.” He took her paw in his and patted it gently. “Would you like that, my dear?”

Despite her physical urge to recoil at his cold, bristly touch, Oleander batted her eyelashes and smiled shyly. “Yes, indeed. That would be just fine.”

His hackles rising, Mannux held himself back from sinking his teeth into Billycan’s white neck. Oleander turned to her father. She grabbed his arm, pulling herself free from Billycan’s grip. “Papa, ain’t this wonderful? We can all sit together!”

“Yup,” said Mannux stiffly. “It be
wonderful
news.”

“It’s settled, then,” said Billycan. “Let’s all take our places. The horde grows restless for meat.”

The feast was under way. Once Billycan and his chosen guests had been served, the horde ransacked the boar, scouring it for every string of succulent flesh and every clump of sticky fat. The rats giggled as
their scrawny feet hit the coals of the dying fire. The young ones tossed them to one another, making a silly game out of who could hold the smoking embers the longest. The horde was giddy with contentment.

Despite the revolting smell, Billycan insisted Carn sit at his side. One night of the rat’s stench would be well worth it, if it meant an easier takeover of Nightshade City. Billycan could mold this one into something useful. Not yet sure why, he had a sense that this rat could prove much more valuable than Stono and Thicket; something about Corn struck him.

Cobweb had arranged the seats for the feast, placing a handful of crushed elephant ear under his cushion. He leaned forward and checked on Carn, making sure the rat’s snout was still fat and swollen. For now it looked as exaggerated as ever. If he needed it, all Cobweb had to do was sneak Carn a small handful while Montague distracted Billycan.

Carn nearly jumped out of his skin whenever Billycan made even the slightest gesture, reaching out for meat or scratching his ribs with his knobby knuckles. Leisurely consuming his huge portion of boar, Billycan had yet to utter a word to Carn. They ate in silence. Several times Carn noticed him tilting his head, staring strangely at him. Was it his distended muzzle, his detestable aroma, or did he recognize him, secretly seeing through his disguise?

Carn reached out for another piece of meat. Billycan suddenly grabbed him hard by the wrist. He stared Carn dead in the face.

“So,” said Billycan, furrowing his brow, “how do you possess enough strength to kill a snake? You’re not much bigger than the others. In fact, Stono’s larger than you, and even he can’t crack a snake’s jaw.” Flaring his nostrils, Billycan leaned in close, his liquid eyes boring through Carn’s skull, waiting for an answer.

Nearly choking on his meat, Carn gulped, painfully swallowing a large clump of pork. Don’t think too hard, he thought. He won’t
expect much. “I guess I just be stronger than most.” He slowly pulled his wrist from Billycan’s grasp and reached for another piece of meat, as if nothing bothered him. “I don’t know why. Just lucky, I guess.”

“Well,” said Billycan, not surprised by the dim-witted answer, “Corn, is it?”

Carn inwardly cringed. Why did he pick such a simple name, so close to his own? What was he thinking? “Yup, Corn be my name.”

“How do you catch the snakes? How do you come upon them without being attacked first?”

“Most times, I just play dead. The snakes come to eat me, thinking I’m long gone, and, well, I eat them instead!” Carn laughed foolishly, cramming more meat into his mouth.

Billycan scratched his chin. “How did you think of such a crafty trick?”

Carn relaxed slightly. Billycan seemed to be buying his masquerade. “I learned it from the possums. They play dead all the time. Just thought I’d try it one day, and it worked! I was eating snake by suppertime!”

The lord of the swamp rats smiled with delight. “Billycan is pleasantly surprised by your resourcefulness, Corn. How many snakes would you say you’ve killed over the years?”

“Well, back in the woods, I ate snake just ’bout every night.”

Billycan’s eyes brightened to a diluted pink. “Tell me,” he said hungrily, “how exactly do you do it? I’ve always gone for their heads, chopping them clean off.” Flaring his digits, Billycan thrust four razor-sharp claws in front of Carn’s nose, showing him his tools of choice. “Now then, how do
you
kill them?”

“Well, sir,” said Carn, slowly pulling his nose away, “it all depends, I reason.” He scratched his head, as if truly thinking on the matter. “Sometimes I wait till they’re right up in my face, and then I
just grab them. Other times I wait till they got me in their mouths, then I use my legs and push. I push hard inside that snake’s mouth until I here that
pop
!”

“What pop?” asked Billycan impatiently.

Carn’s face lit up as if it were all very thrilling. “You know. That noise a jaw makes when ya break it—that loud crack. When I hear that pop, I know they be dead! Dead as dead can be!” Carn nudged Billycan chummily in the shoulder, as if he were just another rat.

A piercing cackle filled the yard as Billycan’s entire body jerked with laughter. The horde suddenly froze, never having heard him laugh. Not sure what to do, Carn took Billycan’s lead and joined in the hilarity with a commanding yowl, baying at the moon. Still shrieking in mad amusement, Billycan threw himself back on his cushion, clutching his ribs. The rest of the horde followed suit, howling and squealing, rolling on the ground.

Finally Billycan settled back comfortably, grinning from ear to ear. Letting out a satisfied groan, he stared up at the moon, its brightness pushing through the swamp’s leaden haze. Corn’s story tickled him. How truly decadent! To pop a jaw that way. He marveled that he’d never thought of it himself.

Billycan listened to his horde, still yelling and carrying on around him, a cheerful background noise. His mind shifted to Juniper, thinking what a deliciously horrible manner that would be for Nightshade’s Chief Citizen to die. Billycan snorted sharply in a final fit of laughter, repeating Carn’s words at the moon.

“Dead as dead can be!”

Carn leaned forward and whispered in Oleander’s ear. “This is going better than I ever could have predicted. I had no idea how easy this would be.”

Oleander turned to him and let out a silly laugh as though he were saying something quite charming. Eyeing his snout, she let out a muted gasp. “Your face,” she hissed. “It’s not swollen anymore. The toxin has worn off!”

Carn instinctively grabbed his muzzle. It was smooth, the inflammation gone. Oleander looked wide-eyed at Cobweb, and motioned to Carn.

Cobweb panicked. He reached clumsily under his cushion, all the while glancing at Billycan, still reclined on his back, staring into the night sky. Cobweb fumbled for the elephant ear. He suddenly looked as if he might vomit, his gray skin drained of all color.

“Cobweb,” said Oleander, “what is it?”

“I hid it under the wrong cushion!” he whispered frantically. “It’s under Thicket! I was so nervous …” He slapped his forehead with his paw. “Of all the stupid mistakes!”

“Hush,” she said softly. “We’ll get out of this.”

Carn kept his face turned away from Billycan. His heart was beating furiously. His coolness had shifted back to terror.

Sensing trouble, Thicket got up from her seat and crouched behind Cobweb and Oleander. “What be going on with you two?” she asked, pushing between them. Cobweb looked vacantly out into the swamp, wishing its thick foliage would snatch him up and swallow him whole. “Cobweb, you look sick.” She laughed. “Ate too much, huh?” She turned to Carn. “Corn, your face, it be back to its old self! You look like you again!”

Carn tried to quiet her. “Well … uh, I do be feeling better.” He leaned in close, lowering his voice. “Thicket, let’s hush a bit so as we don’t upset Billycan. He be resting.”

Feeling Carn’s shaky paw, Thicket furrowed her brow. “You be
so jumpy all night … so nervous. Billycan likes you just fine! He thinks you something special.” She snickered, swatting him on the shoulder. “You worry like a scared rabbit!”

Billycan pulled back up to a sitting position. He turned to Stono and Montague, saying something about tomorrow’s journey to Nightshade. Montague caught a glimpse of Carn’s alarmed face. He quickly asked a series of rapid-fire questions about the assault, which Billycan was more than happy to address.

Cracking his jaw from side to side, Billycan leaned back on his elbows, looking leisurely at the horde as he spoke. “The horde will do well, Montague.” He nodded at Stono. “With him and Thicket leading the way, along with our new snake killer, they’ll rip those rats apart. Nightshade is ours for the taking.”

“Sir,” said Montague, trying to buy time, “tell me again about the Bloody Coup.”

Cobweb walked stealthily behind Billycan. All he had to do was reach under Thicket’s cushion unseen, snatch a handful of the crushed plant, and make his way back to Carn.

Taking a seat on Thicket’s empty cushion, Cobweb feigned interest in Billycan’s sermon on fighting and strategy, a history lesson of battles won.

Carn listened. His neck bristled as Billycan reminisced about the Bloody Coup, bragging how he dismantled a Loyalist booby trap, easily slipping into the Catacombs, quickly launching the historic overthrow of Trilok and the Catacombs takeover. “Yes,” said Billycan, grinning, “the Loyalist rats were easily conquered.”

The recollection made Carn shake, but not with fear—with fury. His stomach roiled with rage, his lungs felt as if they might burst inside his chest. It was that night in the Catacombs that Billycan had kidnapped him and destroyed his family.

“Corn,” whispered Oleander, “Cobweb’s got the elephant ear, no need to worry now.”

“I’m not worried,” said Carn sternly.

“Then what is it? You look … strange. Are you all right?”

“Never better,” said Carn, speaking at full volume in his normal tone.

“Keep your voice down,” snapped Mannux. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Carn ignored him. He got to his feet, standing firmly, like a soldier, as the Kill Army majors had taught him. He scowled down at Billycan, who was still boasting about the Coup. Suddenly he said, “Were the Loyalists really overpowered so effortlessly? Is that truly how things went, High Collector—or do you prefer Commander Billycan? I was never sure.”

“Covered in blood, I stole down a corridor—” Billycan stopped midsentence, his eyes wide, every hair on his body standing on end.

“Was it really that easy,” asked Carn, “kidnapping me and slaughtering the entire Newcastle Clan—my clan?” Billycan did not twitch even a whisker. “Why, what could be the matter, High Collector? Is your mind racing, thinking of another quick and cowardly escape route? Not this time.”

Thicket slowly approached Carn. “Corn, what’s got into you? Why you be talking like that?”

“My name is not Corn,” he replied, glaring steadily at Billycan. “It’s Carn. I’m here for him. He is not just a killer of snakes, Thicket. He is a killer of his fellow rats.”

Scratching her head, Thicket turned to Stono, who quickly joined his troubled mate. “Thicket, everything okay?”

“What’s Corn talking ’bout?” asked Thicket, grabbing Stono’s arm. “Why he be saying such things?”

“He tells the truth,” said Oleander, dropping her thick drawl. “Billycan, our leader, is no leader at all.” She called out to the horde. “He is only using us to get back to Nightshade, a city that does not belong to him as he claims. He is wicked. He killed Carn’s family. He killed many families. Billycan is using you and Stono because you’re strong and easy to control. Once he gets what he wants, he’ll have no use for you or any of us. He’ll kill us all.”

“Oleander,” said Thicket. “Why you talking like Cobweb and Montague?”

“I suppose because she is like Cobweb and Montague,” said Mannux, putting an arm around his daughter, “as am I. We didn’t want to frighten you. We are the same family that has always loved you, that will never change, but we are somehow different from the rest of the horde.”

Slowly Billycan rose. He looked at Oleander, then at Mannux, not dullards at all. How did they trick him so easily? Mannux stared him down proudly. The old rat’s mouth curved into an arrogant sneer.

His eyes finally turning to Carn, Billycan’s face hardened, his yellow teeth bared in an ugly grimace as he stared into the eyes of the one who had served him all those years—the betrayer who had turned his army against him. Tensed in rigid indignation, his long arms quaked with wrath. One by one, each tarnished claw shot out—ready to rip out the eyes of the one who stood before him. “You!” he shrieked at Carn.

The horde was silent, gawking at Billycan and then at the strangest of happenings unfurling all around them. Oddly colored rats emerged from the manor, all brandishing razor-sharp spears. Hundreds of snakes slithered over the plantation’s border, writhing around the horde from all sides, hissing wildly and flashing sharp white fangs. Screeching bats circled, closing in from above, clutching deadly spikes, ready to launch. The horde huddled close, terrified.

“Stand down, Billycan,” commanded a deep voice. “Kindly back away from your former lieutenant. You are surrounded by enemies above and below.” Billycan’s eyes bulged. It could not be!
None
of this could be! He could hear the hissing snakes, the shrieking bats overhead, the voice of his archenemy.