Chapter 77 – Audience in the Tunnels

  The ratkin guide moved with his head low, his tail tight to his legs, and his ears pricked for trouble. Even with NightVision turning the tunnel into a dim twilight, I had to keep reminding myself to watch my footing. The last thing I needed was to face-plant in front of my new escort.

  “What’s your name, anyway?” I asked after a minute.

  The ratkin glanced back my way. “Skrit.”

  “I’m Cameron,” I said.

  He made a thoughtful chittering sound. “Know.”

  Of course he did. Apparently I was getting myself quite the reputation.

  “Flooding pushed bugs north,” Skrit said. “We fled, built gate to block them. You take down gate, now all ratkin at risk.”

  “I’ll help you get it set back up,” I said.

  “No need. Preep will do. That why I leave him back there,” Skrit said. “King think. Pack do. Pack learn fast.”

  I believed it. The construction they’d put together wasn’t pretty, but it was clever. No simple steel bars were going to do more than slow me down a few seconds, but the pill bugs were another story. The ratkin might have been forced to retreat, but they’d locked things down well enough, keeping their people safe from the monsters.

  The tunnel branched, and Skrit took me down the side passage into a maintenance bay I hadn’t known existed. Ratkin families clustered there, gathered under canvas lean-tos. Fires burned in a handful of big trash cans. A cook fire burned in a salvaged drum, the pot above it scenting the air with a smell that was something like a mixture of stew and wet dog. A dozen warriors watched me arrive with the sort of silence that says everyone is pretending not to be nervous.

  Skrit stopped and held up a hand toward me. “Wait here.”

  I did as he asked. He stepped up toward a massive tent, bowed his head, and murmured to a pair of guards whose armor looked way more impressive than what I’d seen my last visit here. These guys wore layered leather, decorated with metal plates cut from traffic signs. After a moment, the guards stepped aside. Skrit beckoned to me.

  I followed him into the pavilion.

  The Rat King waited on a platform that might once have been part of a train car. He looked even more impressive than before. He’d put on rank, for one thing. The last time I’d seen him he was a wiry tier four, but now he was tier six and wore authority like a coat. His eyes had a hard intelligence to them, too. This was a being who’d grown substantially more dangerous over the past few days.

  I still didn’t feel threatened by him. Even with the scores of ratkin housed in this place, the odds were probably still in my favor. But just like the pill bugs, the ratkin had grown much stronger while I’d been away.

  “Cameron Castle,” he said, in a voice raspier but more assured than before. “We meet again.”

  “It looks like the days have been kind to you,” I said.

  “To some. Not so much to others. We lost many to the bugs before we withdrew here,” the Rat King said. “But the same is true for humans, yes? Big battle. Many dead.”

  “True. But we were ultimately victorious,” I said.

  He nodded his agreement. “Why you come here again?”

  “I’m here for two reasons. One, your neighbors to the south are pill bugs, and they’re getting bigger. They’ve been pushed out by the same flood that’s pushing you. I’m planning to squash them before they scuttle up to the surface and make a buffet of Porter Square.”

  “Good,” he said simply. Around us, the guards’ whiskers twitched agreement.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “Two,” I continued. “I came to see if we’re still square.”

  He tilted his head. “Square?”

  “Our deal,” I said. “You held up your end before. I held up mine. Then the world got busy. I don’t like unknowns in my back yard, especially ones with spears. You promised to leave humans alone. Can I still trust you on that?”

  The Rat King’s muzzle curled in what might have been a smile. “Still ‘square.’ But things do change. We gain rank. We think more. We see more. Hunters that hunt alone die alone. This place?” He swept an arm to take in the bay, the families, the drying racks of meat. “This is pack. Pack live when many work. Human pack above. Ratkin pack below. But ratkin grow. Need more.”

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “Terms,” the Rat King said. “Truce that is not only today. Truce that says your pack not hunt in our den, and we not hunt in yours. Truce that says we make trade.”

  “Trade what?” I asked, cautious.

  He gestured. A pair of ratkin lugged forward a crate made from pallet slats. Inside, neat stacks of brown crystals gleamed like polished acorns. The King plucked a few up one at a time, naming each one as he did. “Masonry. Rope-making. Sewing. Weapon-making.”

  “Alex would love you,” I said, before I could stop myself.

  “Alex,” the King repeated. “Your city leader with many plans. We hear.” He tapped the side of his head the same way Alex had. “Stories run in tunnels. Your Alex gives crystals to cleaners and cooks, not just spear-hands. Clever human.”

  I let out a breath. This felt doable. “Okay. Trade is possible. We’ve got stones we can trade, and I know Alex wants more of those brown crystals. I can bring some. And I can bring food for a first round. We’ve got a line on giant bird that tastes like chicken.”

  “Giant bird,” Skrit echoed with naked yearning.

  “Not yet,” the Rat King said, without looking at him. His eyes stayed on me. “Trade and truce. Terms.”

  I nodded. “All right. How about this? The truce holds as long as your people don’t raid topside settlements and don’t kidnap or kill humans. In return, I’ll let all the major human settlements know that you’re an ally. We can set a trade point at a gate both sides can reach without stepping into the other’s home. We mark it. We make a schedule. And—big one—I clear out the pill bugs and push their nest back from your borders.”

  The Rat King considered me for a long beat. Finally he clicked his teeth softly. “Add a thing.”

  “Which is?”

  “Knowledge. The humans above make place that stops spawn. Domain.”

  I blinked. “You know about that?”

  “We hear much. Domain is quiet. Safe.” He lifted his chin. “We want know how to make quiet.”

  “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I know how we got the first stone that makes a Domain. I took it off a Karabos leader. But I don’t know where he got it, or where we can get more. I can keep you posted. If we find more, we’re going to place them at human settlements first. Safety first.”

  He accepted that without visible offense. “You tell, when know. That is term.”

  “I can do that,” I said. “Now, if I’m gonna go deal with those pill bugs, I need you to keep all of your people north of the water until I’m done. Through the end of today, at least, all right? I don’t want to risk any ratkin getting hurt when I attack them.”

  I had a plan for handling the pill bugs quickly, but it would be extremely hazardous for any ratkin in the area. We had the makings of a fragile truce here. The last thing I wanted to do was sabotage it by accidentally killing one of them.

  The King drummed claws on the counter. “Skrit. Tell others.”

  Skrit bobbed once and vanished like a shadow sucked into another shadow.

  The Rat King hopped off the platform and approached me. Up close, he smelled like smoke, leather, and damp fur. “One more thing, Cameron Castle. You lost much to ratkin, yes?”

  “I did.”

  “Why help us, then?”

  “Because you can’t judge a group by the actions of one member,” I said, grinding out the words as a flash of anger rose in response to some of the worst sort of memories rushing back.

  The Rat King nodded. “I understand. You do good. Glad to have you as friend.”

  “Likewise,” I said, and meant it. The rush of fury drained away again.

  That earned me a small, private nod. I offered my hand to seal our deal. He looked at it, sniffed once, then clasped my forearm with his paw. His grip was stronger than I’d expected.

  “Go,” he said. “We keep our side. You keep yours.”

  I turned to leave. On impulse, I paused. “One more thing. When this is over, and if the truce holds, and if trade works, I can bring someone. The human leader I mentioned before, Alex. He’s smart and fair. He’ll talk, not posture. We can set real rules.”

  The Rat King blinked slowly. “Bring your Alex. We make him tea.”

  Tea made out of what was a question for the future. With another nod to the King, I stepped back outside his pavilion.

  Skrit was waiting at the door, tail high now. Pride looked good on him. “We go?” he asked.

  “We go,” I said. I let him lead us back the way we’d come.

  We retraced our path back to the barricade. One of the other ratkin had already replaced one of the two bars I’d removed. He paused in his work, sighing as Skrit spoke to him quickly in their language, then removed it again with another long-suffering sigh. The trickle of water had reached the gate and would soon continue north down the tunnel. I needed to stop that, too, not just the bugs, or the ratkin would end up flooded out anyway.

  I rolled my shoulders. Flight hummed under my skin as I activated the power. Getting wet was definitely not on today’s agenda. I lifted off from the floor and flew through the gap in the gate, my NightVision painting the tunnel ahead in crisp lines. Somewhere in the distance, mandibles clicked.

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s do this.”