Nightshade City (15 page)

“Juniper, the Ministry is my employer.” She wrung her paws nervously. “I’m afraid … I’m afraid I work for them. I’m High Mistress of the Robes.” Juniper listened, his face emotionless. “I despise the job, but by doing it, I’ve kept my children out of the Kill Army ranks and provided them with full bellies. After Mr. Gallo died, I
didn’t have a choice. If we had fled Topside, my family most certainly would not have survived.”

Juniper remained silent for a moment, contemplating. He folded his arms, one paw covering his mouth, tapping his lips with his claws. His smile crept back. “Maddy, you have always been far too hard on yourself. Don’t ever be ashamed of the choices you’ve made. You put your children first—your clan. There’s no disgrace in that. You kept them safe—that’s what a mother’s supposed to do. Here you are after all this time trying to save what’s left of my clan. You are an amazing rat, always have been.” Mother Gallo grinned bashfully, her skin once again turning a ruddy pink.

“Maddy, I think you know the Council, all a little older now, but still the same lads you knew back in the Combs. We’ll all catch up in due time.” He smacked his paws together. “Well, now, we need to rally and get in front of this while we still have time,” he said, glancing at the hourglass on the platform. “We must make haste. Virden, Ulrich, get word to Oard as fast as you can, within the hour if possible. Ragan, find out what you can from your informants: Why the sudden jump in Catacomb security? What, if anything, do they know about us? Cole, start going over the maps you and Virden drew up with Oard. We can start outlining a plan.” He looked seriously at Vincent and Victor. “Boys, now is the time. I told you you’d prove yourselves useful sooner rather than later. Well,
sooner
is upon us. My niece is depending on me, and so I’m depending on you. We have only hours till midnight.”

Mother Gallo stared intently at Juniper, transfixed. Never had he shone brighter than now, when all the stars aligned against him. Nothing could weaken his resolve, not with the last remnant of his clan on the line. He would not be the sole surviving Belancort.

Clover tossed restlessly, the speech only hours away. She lay in her parents’ bed thinking about Mother Gallo. Where was she at that very moment? She should have insisted she stay in the Combs.

Clover left her bed and walked softly to the door. She listened for the guard but heard nothing. She decided she must force herself to eat again. She retrieved her razor blade and some cured meat and berries provided for her by the Ministry. She thought it was the least they could do, since they had imposed her house arrest.

Clover jumped, almost cutting herself with the blade. She heard a sudden commotion just outside her door, something that sounded like stumbling and then loud voices coming from farther down the corridor. She listened intently, trying to identify the rats. Billycan—nothing could muffle that serrated tone, erupting like acid from the back of his throat. The other voice belonged to the guard, Suttor. The last voice she did not recognize, at least not at first.

Suttor had bolted off his stool, nearly falling face-first into the dirt when he heard Billycan calling down the corridor. Billycan scowled at Suttor as he clumsily picked himself up off the ground.

“Well, boy, are we disturbing your nap?” asked Billycan.

“No—High Collector—sir—awake and on duty,” Suttor replied uneasily.

“I wonder. … of no matter, Lieutenant Suttor. We are here to see Miss Clover, not you. Do announce us and open the door.”

Suttor’s eyes lingered over to the hulking figure next to Billycan. It was Killdeer. Suttor had never seen him up close. He was a mountain, tall like Billycan, but wide in every direction. Suttor felt sick. He tried to stop himself from stammering. “Yes, sir—right away, sir—right now.” He spat nervously as he spoke, a childhood habit that came back when he panicked.

Billycan sneered. “Why, High Minister, I think you’ve impressed the lieutenant. He never slobbers like such a fool around me.”

Killdeer laughed. He was in good humor and found the soldier’s spluttering and tripping over himself in fear rather comical. “Calm yourself, boy,” said Killdeer. He leaned against the corridor wall and lazily scraped a speck of old meat from under his claw. “Hurry, now, soldier, and tend to your duties.” He nodded towards the door.

“Oh, yes! Yes, sir—High Minister—sir,” said Suttor, trying to control his spittle. He knocked solidly on the door, ready to announce the High Minister, when Clover opened the door herself. She looked up at Killdeer with a coy smile. She had dressed in the sash and jewels Mother Gallo had left for her. Killdeer’s eyes shone hungrily at the sight.

Clover had taken Mother Gallo’s advice to heart: Be smart and play the part. Act as if she were the happiest girl in the Catacombs. Clover swallowed hard, summoning up her most demure voice. “Why, High Minister, I wasn’t expecting you. What an honor. I was just trying on the lovely attire you have so graciously bestowed on me. I want to make sure I look perfect for you.” She curtsied and bowed her head.

Billycan looked on skeptically. What was she up to? He cracked his jaw, thinking. He would find her out, he thought, all in due time.

Suttor felt deflated. He hadn’t gotten to give the announcement at Clover’s door. He tried to make up for it, clearing his throat importantly and declaring, “Presenting Miss Clover of Clan Belancort to High Minister Killdeer.” He felt sufficiently redeemed, saluting Killdeer and Billycan.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Suttor.” Killdeer’s eyes did not waver from Clover. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “That will be all for now, soldier. Run along with Billycan to the kitchen and get
yourself some dinner.” Killdeer waved his paw in Suttor’s direction, shooing him away.

Suttor looked at him in stupefaction. Killdeer had addressed him by name! This was something to talk about. His brothers and the other soldiers would be gripped by his every word. This detail wasn’t so boring after all. The High Minister knew his name!

Billycan felt uneasy about leaving Killdeer alone with the girl, unable to tell how much Oshi the immense rat had taken in, but the Collector was starving, and for now his hunger outweighed his worries of a scandal. “Now, boy, off to the kitchens. Billycan is famished. That crone of a cook better not have closed the kitchen early. Off we go. Our High Minister would like some privacy with Miss Belancort.” Suttor did not respond. He stood starstruck, mesmerized by Killdeer. Billycan slapped Suttor viciously on the back of his head.

Suttor’s ears rang from the blow. “I’m sorry, High Collector,” he said.

“If you don’t take your leave, you’ll be more than sorry, Lieutenant Suttor.” Suttor marched swiftly to the kitchen. Billycan trailed behind, thinking he might go mad if food did not pass his lips soon. His frustration with Killdeer did not help his surly mood. He would have some pigeon, custard, and bitonberry toast, then go straight back to Clover’s to collect the Minister. In his inebriated state, it was not wise to let Killdeer stay too long. For now, he seemed easy to control, made pleasant and malleable by the drink. That could change—rapidly, depending on the quantity Killdeer had consumed. He had insisted on seeing Clover, assuring Billycan his manners would remain those of a respected Minister. Despite Billycan’s recently wavering opinion of the High Minister, he wasn’t about to challenge him outright—at least not yet.

Clover stood in the corridor with Killdeer. She watched helplessly as Suttor and Billycan’s figures became smaller and smaller, eventually fading into the dark. Never did she imagine there would be a time when she wished for the return of Billycan.

Killdeer cleared his throat. He had an oily grin on his face. Clover forced herself not to draw back in distaste, remembering that she must act the part.

“Won’t you come in, High Minister?” she asked softly. “You’ll have to excuse my quarters. I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer a rat such as you.”

Killdeer snickered as he ducked under the doorway. “I’m sure you have
plenty
to offer me, my dear.” Clover pretended not to hear the unseemly comment.

“Please, High Minister, sit anywhere you like. It’s a bit chilly in the Combs today. Why don’t I light the fire pit and make us something to eat?”

“That would be heavenly. Some dinner would do me wonders.” Clover’s stools were too small for Killdeer, so he sat on the floor across the fire pit from her. “Now, my dear, I think it’s only fitting that you address me as Killdeer. After all, High Minister is a little too formal, given our situation, don’t you think?”

Clover lit the dry kindling with a match. “Yes—Killdeer. If I may inquire, to what do I owe this visit?” she asked, desperately trying to keep him talking.

His tone was almost fatherly. “I thought it only appropriate that we get to know each other before my Grand Speech. I want you to be at ease standing by my side. Billycan says you’re brighter than most, so I thought I should find out for myself. If you are as smart as you are pleasant to regard, I would be a fool not to investigate his claim, wouldn’t I?” Killdeer stretched his body to its full length and leaned
on an elbow. Clover didn’t answer his question and continued to fuss over the fire. She could feel Killdeer’s black eyes staring at her, pulsating against the flames, beating through her skin.

He reached for his silver medallion. It had warmed from the heat of the fire. He flipped it between his claws. Clover couldn’t help but focus on it. “You like my silver medallion, do you?” He picked up the pendant, holding it with his claws, and tapped on the front of it. “You know who this is, don’t you?”

“Why, yes, that’s High Duchess Nomi,” she replied.

“Yes, the High Duchess. Her reign was a long, long time ago. From what I’ve heard, she was rather astute for a female, not to mention lovely.” He leaned in closer. “Have you ever thought about what it would be like to be the High Duchess of the Ministry?”

“Well—no, sir. My days revolve around collecting Stipend, chores, and taking care of my grandfather. I don’t have time to think foolish thoughts of royal stations.”

Killdeer pulled around the fire pit. Clover shrank back as he moved close. Grinning, he traced a circle on her shoulder with a black claw. She could make out the grooves in his incisors as his snout neared her face. He spoke in a deep whisper. “What if I told you you would never have to worry about any of those horrible chores again? No more toil, no more Stipend, no more worries over your guardian’s well-being. What if I told you the High Ministry wanted a new High Duchess, that
I
wanted a new High Duchess—someone like you?”

For a moment, Clover questioned his sanity. What could he be speaking of? “Like me?” she asked, aghast at the idea. “I don’t understand. Are you offering—are you asking me—” She couldn’t form the words. “Minister, the whole idea of me—as a duchess—it’s absurd!” He drew closer, slinking around the pit like a lion skillfully stalking its prey.

“You’re smart. You’re beautiful. What’s absurd about that?” he purred.

“Minister, you don’t even know me,” she said, edging away from him.

“I’ll get to know you. That’s what this is all about, my dear, getting to know you. That’s why I’m here.” He lunged forward, startling her. She scrambled backwards towards the door, banging her back against it with a thud. Killdeer pounced. He loomed over her like a malicious storm cloud. His chest heaved. “Don’t play modest, my sweet. That time has passed.”

Clover pressed her eyes shut as he pushed closer, powerless against his size. Suddenly she felt something tugging on her neck, jerking her out by the scruff—out from under Killdeer. Her whole body lifted off the ground as she was yanked into the empty corridor.

Killdeer hit the floor hard, slamming his muzzle into the dirt. He looked up from the ground. There stood Billycan, his face resembling a barracuda’s. He held Clover tightly by the scruff of her neck as she dangled off the ground. Killdeer leaped to his feet, humiliated. He did not speak.

Billycan glowered at him. “Billycan thinks Miss Clover needs to get some sleep, Minister,” he said, clenching his jaw as he spoke. “She looks quite tired, and we want her to be fresh and rested for your Grand Speech. Now, run along, Clover dear. A nap will do you good.”