The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents

brim. “There's something I'd like to find out, boss,” he said, “if we're finding out things.”

Malicia raised an eyebrow. “Well?” she said. “And don't call me boss!”

“I'd like to find out why there's no rats in this city, guv,” said Sardines. He tap-danced a few steps, nervously. Malicia could glare better than a cat.

“What do you mean, no rats?” she said. “There's a plague of rats! And you're a rat, anyway!”

“There's rat runs all over the place and there's a few dead rats but we haven't found a living rat anywhere, guv.”

Malicia leaned down. “But you are a rat,” she said.

“Yes, guv. But we only arrived this morning.” Sardines grinned nervously as Malicia gave him another long stare.

“Would you like some cheese?” she said. “I'm afraid it's only mousetrap.”

“I don't think so, thank you very much all the same,” said Sardines, very carefully and politely.

“It's no use, I think it really is time to tell the truth,” said Keith.

“Nonononononono,” said Maurice, who hated that kind of thing. “It's all because—”

“You were right, miss,” said Keith, wearily. “We go from town to town with a bunch of rats and fool people into giving us money to leave. That's what we do. I'm sorry we've been doing it. This was going to be the last time. I'm very sorry. You shared your food with us and you haven't got much, either. We ought to be ashamed.”

It seemed to Maurice, while he was watching Malicia make up her mind, that her mind worked in a different way to other people's minds. She understood all the hard things without even thinking. Magical rats? Yeah, yeah. Talking cats? Been there, done that, bought the singlet. It was the simple things that were hard.

Her lips were moving. She was, Maurice realized, making up a story out of it.

“So…” she said, “you come along with your trained rats—”

“We prefer ‘educated rodents’, guv,” said Sardines.

“—all right, your educated rodents, and you move into a city, and… what happens to the rats that are there already?”

Sardines looked helplessly at Maurice. Maurice nodded at him to keep on. They were all going to be in big trouble if Malicia didn't make up a story she liked.

“They keep out of our way, boss, I mean guv,” said Sardines.

“Can they talk too?”

“No, guv.”

“I think the Clan think of them as a bit like monkeys,” said Keith.

“I was talking to Sardines,” said Malicia.

“Sorry,” said Keith.

“And there're no other rats here at all?” Malicia went on.

“No, guv. A few old skeletons and some piles of poisons and lots of traps, boss. But no rats, boss.”

“But the rat-catchers nail up a load of rat tails every day!”

“I speak as I find, boss. Guv. No rats, boss. Guv. No other rats anywhere we've been, boss guv.”

“Have you ever looked at the rat tails, miss?” said Maurice.

“What do you mean?” said Malicia.

“They're fake,” said Maurice. “Some of them, anyway. They're just old leather bootlaces. I saw some in the street.”

“They weren't real tails?” said Keith.

“I'm a cat. You think I don't know what rats' tails look like?”

“Surely people would notice!” said Malicia.

“Yeah?” said Maurice. “Do you know what an aglet is?”

“Aglet? Aglet? What's an aglet got to do with anything?” snapped Malicia.

“It's those little metal bits on the end of shoelaces,” said Maurice.

“How come a cat knows a word like that?” said the girl.

“Everyone's got to know something,” said Maurice. “Have you ever looked closely at the rat tails?”

“Of course not. You can get the plague from rats!” said Malicia.

“That's right, your legs explode,” said Maurice, grinning. “That's why you didn't see the aglets. Your leg exploded lately, Sardines?”

“Not today, boss,” said Sardines. “Mind you, it's not even lunchtime yet.”

Malicia looked pleased. “Ah-ha,” she said, and it seemed to Maurice that the “ha” had a very nasty edge to it.

“So… you're not going to tell the Watch about us?” he ventured, hopefully.

“What, that I've been talking to a rat and a cat?” said Malicia. “Of course not. They'll tell my father I've been telling stories and I'll get locked out of my room again.”

“You get locked out of your room as a punishment?” said Maurice.

“Yes. It means I can't get at my books. I'm rather a special person, as you may have guessed,” said Malicia, proudly. “Haven't you heard of the Sisters Grim? Agoniza and Eviscera Grim? They were my grandmother and my great-aunt. They wrote… fairy-tales.”

Ah, so we're temporarily out of trouble here, thought Maurice. Best to keep her talking. “I'm not a big reader, as cats go,” he said. “So what were these, then? Stories about little people with wings going tinkle- tinkle?”

“No,” said Malicia. “They were not big on tinkling little people. They wrote… real fairy-tales. Ones with lots of blood and bones and bats and rats in. I've inherited the story-telling talent,” she added.

“I kind of thought you had,” said Maurice.

“And if there's no rats under the town but the ratcatchers are nailing up bootlaces, I smell a rat,” said Malicia.

“Sorry,” said Sardines, “I think that was me. I'm a bit nervous—”

There were sounds from upstairs.

“Quick, go out across the back yard!” Malicia commanded. “Get up into the hayloft over the stables! I'll bring you some food! I know exactly how this sort of thing goes!”

CHAPTER 5

Ratty Rupert was the bravest rat that ever was. Everyone in Furry Bottom said so.

—From “Mr. Bunnsy Has an Adventure”

Darktan was in a tunnel several streets away, hanging from four bits of string attached to his harness. They were tied onto a stick which had been balanced like a seesaw on the back of a very fat rat; two other rats were sitting on the other end, and several other rats were steering it.

Darktan was hanging just above the teeth of the big steel trap that completely filled the tunnel.

He squeaked the signal to stop. The stick vibrated a little under his weight. “I'm right over the cheese,” he said. “Smells like Lancre Blue Vein, Extra Tasty. Not touched. Pretty old, too. Move me in about two paws.”3

The stick bounced up and down as he was pushed forward.