'We are fighting for our lives,' said Talag. 'That creature was a danger to our fort in Night Village. Three times he blundered about us, drawing attention, speaking aloud. And so far I've heard nothing about why.'
Felthrup looked at Talag. His nose twitched.
'Oh good and gracious Lord!' he said. 'How you always return me to my purpose! I bow, I sigh, I wheeze my gratitude! Will you forgive me if-just to make things simpler, marvelous Talag-I once again call myself a rat?'
'Get on with it!' spat Talag.
'Then, as a rat-as a woken rat-I must tell you that I am not quite alone.'
'What!' cried Dri. 'Do you mean that there is another woken rat aboard?'
'Yes, m'lady, just one. The only one I have ever met. He rules the warren, and he is thoroughly evil and depraved. His name is Master Mugstur.'
'Have you spoken with this creature?'
'Yes, m'lady, but I did not let him know I was awake. He would certainly have killed me, for he wants no rivals.'
'What does he want?' said Talag.
'He wants to eat the captain.'
There was a rather long pause.
'Specifically his tongue,' Felthrup continued. 'The reason is simple enough. After he woke, Master Mugstur became religious, you see. He is a quite fanatical adherent to the Rinfaith-although his version of it is somewhat… what is the word? Homicidal? Yes, exactly! Oh, Lady Dri, do you know how I have dreamed of such enlightened conversation? A rat would say blary, bloody, munchy, delicious-never homicidal! I am the luckiest being alive!'
'Felthrup,' said Dri.
'Yes, yes! Forgive me! The point is, Captain Rose has also declared himself a believer, but he is only pretending. He takes meals with Brother Bolutu and has the man set him lessons from the Ninety Rules, but he never studies them: the old witch Oggosk answers all the questions. He says he will retire to a life of quiet prayer on Rappopolni, when in fact the Emperor has already promised him governorship of the Quezans, and many slave- wives, and a royal title. This has infuriated Master Mugstur, who will allow no one to disrespect the faith.'
'Skies of Fire!' said Talag. 'Rose is to govern the Quezans? He must be doing something unspeakable for the Crown!'
'We know he is,' said Dri. 'But what does this Mugstur imagine he can do about it?'
'Eat his tongue,' said Felthrup. 'It is his fate to kill Rose, he thinks. My miracle was tears; Master Mugstur's was betrayal. He watched a man selling Nunekkam emeralds to a jeweler. 'These are splendid!' said the jeweler. 'How did you come by them?' 'Oh, the Nunek gave them to me!' The other laughed. 'He needed them sent to his granddaughter in Sorhn, as a wedding gift. It's been planned for three years, that wedding. And for three years I've made it a point to be that Nunek's best friend. So when I happened to tell him I was traveling to Sorhn on business, he asked me to deliver them to the bride. Said he would trust no one else, ha ha!''
'Very rat-like,' said Talag.
'Not at all rat-like, Majestic Lord,' said Felthrup. 'Normal rats may lie to one another, or jump out of shadows and bite. But betray they cannot, for betrayal is not possible without trust, and rats never trust. They do not understand the word.'
'He woke at that moment, as you woke in the bakery?' asked Dri.
'He did, Lady, and his waking frightened him half to death. He ran all night in the streets, and just before dawn took refuge in a temple, where the droning of the monks and the burning incense put him into a state of religious fervor, and the Angel of Rin descended from the rafters and told him his fate. He would find his way to a great mansion that moved, the Angel said, and rule its depths, while a false priest ruled above. And one day he would kill that priest and devour the part of him that lied. And in that moment a thousand eyes would open.'
'Rose is the false priest, then,' said Dri, 'and his tongue is the lying part of him. But what of the thousand eyes?'
'I do not know. Master Mugstur only speaks of his prophecy because he thinks we are all normal rats, sleepwalkers, and will not remember it anyway. But he is determined to punish Rose for pretending to believe. No matter what it takes.'
'What will he try? Sabotage?'
'My lady, he would sink the ship if the Angel wished it. Or try in any case: I doubt he could manage anything so grand.'
'He could destroy us nonetheless,' said Talag. 'If his mischief irritates the giants sufficiently they will gas the ship with sulphur. Every rat aboard will be killed or driven out. And every last ixchel.'
'There will still be one,' said Felthrup. 'A prisoner by the name of Steldak.'
'An ixchel prisoner!' cried Talag. 'But he is not of our clan! Who is he? Where are the giants keeping him?'
'I don't know, Lord Talag. I only know that he is kept in a tiny cage and forced to taste the giants' food, in case there should be poison. He is said to be the most miserable of beings.'
Talag looked at Dri, rage contorting his face. 'All over, sister? All in the past? How can you be so blind? While you talk of fairness the giants keep us in cages yet, and torture us for sport. Why speak of peace with these animals?'
'Some try to build peace,' said Diadrelu. 'Some make it their goal in life.'
'Like our good Captain Rose, and his peaceable mission to the west.'
'How wry, Lord Talag!' said Felthrup, happy again. 'For the Chathrand's mission is black indeed. I know it all: a most, most… calamitous plan. That's the word! Shall I tell you?'
Before they could answer, noises echoed down the pipe: far-off human footfalls, a squeak of metal. A sudden breeze swept past them.
'The drain has opened!' said Dri.
'The storm must be rising!' Talag raised his head, listening. 'Brace yourselves-here it comes!'
'It?' said Felthrup.
A great gush of stormwater barreled into them. Felthrup squealed piercingly-drowning of one sort or another was his deepest fear, after all-but in truth he was not in much danger. Dri, however, was knocked off her feet. She was lighter than Talag (and barely half Felthrup's weight), and the water bore her down the pipe like a twig. Her brother could not reach her, but Felthrup saw her and recovered himself. As she swept by he caught her shirt with a nimble snap of his jaws, and held fast. Ten seconds later the gush of water subsided. Diadrelu put a hand on his cheek in silent thanks.
Soaked and chilly, they descended the last length of pipe to the ixchel's escape hatch. Here Talag paused and faced the rat.
'We owe you our thanks,' he said gruffly, 'for your courage, and your warnings. Now we know that it will be necessary to kill this Master Mugstur.'
'That may be harder than you imagine, Lord,' said Felthrup.
Talag actually smiled. 'We shall see about that. Come! My cooks will feed you something better than rat- scrabble. And you will share what you know of Chathrand's true mission.'
They pulled themselves up through the hatch and into a dim triangular chamber. This was the canvas room, in the back of the tailor's nook, a cramped compartment piled floor to ceiling with pennant silks, tarpaulins and huge bolts of white, flaxen, nearly indestructible sailcloth. They were on a wide shelf about five feet above the floor.
Somewhere in the outer compartment the tailor was humming a flat little tune beneath his swaying lamp. Diadrelu squeezed the water from her shirt.
'Felthrup,' she said, 'how did you learn about the ixchel prisoner?'
'And the mission of the Chathrand, for that matter?' put in Talag.
'The same way he learned about this tunnel of yours, crawly,' said a low, rasping voice overhead. 'I told him.'
The two ixchel flew like arrows, dodging, rolling, drawing their swords even before they regained their feet. They were not a moment too soon. Five enormous rats pounced on the spot where they had stood a split second before, knocking Felthrup aside like a bowling pin.
'Hold that door!' snapped the voice. 'Two die for every crawly who escapes!'
Out of the mounds of sailcloth they came, dozens of rats of all shapes and sizes and hues. Many squirmed
