He could still hear the dreadful voice in his head, but it was muffled. It was trying to give him orders. Trying to give a cat orders? It was easier to nail jelly to a wall. What did it think he was, a dog?
Stinking mud oozed off him. Even his ears were full of mud. He went to lick himself clean, and then stopped. It was a perfectly normal cat reaction, licking yourself clean. But licking this off would probably kill him—
There was a movement in the dark. He could just make out some big rat shapes pouring through the hole. There were a couple of splashes. Some of the shapes were creeping along the walls.
Ah, said the voice. You see them? Watch them come for you, CAT!
Maurice stopped himself from running. This was no time to listen to his inner cat. His inner cat had got him out of the room, but his inner cat was stupid. It wanted him to attack things small enough and run away from everything else. But no cat could tackle a bunch of rats this size. He froze, and tried to keep an eye on the advancing rats. They were heading directly for him.
Hold on… hold on…
The voice had said: You can see them…
How did it know?
Maurice tried to think loudly: Can… You… Read… My… Mind?
Nothing happened.
Maurice had a burst of inspiration. He shut his eyes.
Open them! came the immediate command, and his eyelids trembled.
Shan't, thought Maurice. You can't hear my thoughts! he thought. You only use my eyes and ears! You're just guessing what I'm thinking.
There was no reply. Maurice didn't wait. He leapt. The sloping beam was where he remembered it. He clawed his way up, and hung on. At least all they could do was follow him up. With any luck, he could use his claws…
The rats got closer. Now they were sniffing for him down below, and he imagined quivering noses in the darkness.
One started to climb the beam, still sniffing. It must have been within inches of Maurice's tail when it turned around and went back down again.
He heard them reach the top of the rubble. There was more bewildered sniffing and then, in the dark, the sound of the rats paddling through the mud.
Maurice wrinkled his mud-caked forehead in amazement. Rats who couldn't smell a cat? And then he realized. He didn't smell of cat—he stank of mud, he felt like mud, in a room full of stinking mud.
He sat, still as stone, until through muddy-caked ears he heard claws heading back to the hole in the wall. Then, without opening his eyes, he crept carefully back down to the rubble and found that it had piled up against a rotten wooden door. What must have been a piece of plank, soggy as a sponge, fell out as he touched it.
A feeling of openness suggested that there was another cellar beyond. It stank of rot and burned wood.
Would the… voice know where he was if he opened his eyes now? Didn't one cellar look like another?
Perhaps this room was full of rats, too.
His eyes sprang open. There were no rats, but there was another rusted drain cover which opened into a tunnel just big enough for him to walk through. He could see a faint light.
So this is the rat world, he thought, as he tried to scrape the mud off himself. Dark and muddy and stinky and full of weird voices. I'm a cat. Sunlight and fresh air, that's my style. All I need now is a hole into the outside world and they won't see me for dust, or at least for bits of dried mud.
A voice in his head, which wasn't the mysterious voice but a voice just like his own, said: But what about the stupid-looking kid and the rest of them? You ought to help them! And Maurice thought: Where did you come from? I'll tell you what, you help them and I'll go somewhere warm, how about that?
The light at the end of the tunnel grew brighter. It still wasn't anything like daylight, or even moonlight, but anything was better than this gloom.
At least, nearly anything.
He pushed his head out of the pipe into a much larger one, made of bricks that were slimy with strange underground nastiness, and into the circle of candlelight.
“It's… Maurice?” said Peaches, staring at the mud dripping off his matted fur.
“Smells better than he usually does, then,” said Darktan, grinning in what Maurice considered was an unfriendly way.
“Oh ha, ha,” said Maurice, weakly. He wasn't in the mood for repartee.
“Ah, I knew you wouldn't let us down, old friend,” said Dangerous Beans. “I have always said that we can depend on Maurice, at least.” He sighed deeply.
“Yes,” said Darktan, giving Maurice a much more knowing look. “Depend on him to do what, though?”
“Oh,” said Maurice. “Er. Good. I've found you all, then.”
“Yes,” said Darktan, in what Maurice thought was a nasty tone of voice. “Amazing, isn't it. I expect you've been looking for a long time, too. I saw you rush off to look for us.”
“Can you help us?” said Dangerous Beans. “We need a plan.”
“Ah, right,” said Maurice. “I suggest we go upwards at every opportun—”
“To rescue Hamnpork,” said Darktan. “We don't leave our people behind.”
“We don't?” said Maurice.
“We don't,” said Darktan.
“And then there's the kid,” said Peaches. “Sardines says he's tied up with the female kid in one of the cellars.”
“Oh, well, you know, humans,” said Maurice, wrinkling his face. “Humans and humans, you know, it's a human kind of thing, I don't think we should meddle, could be misunderstood, I know about humans, they'll sort it out”
“I don't care a ferret's shrlt for humans!” snapped Darktan. “But those rat-catchers took Hamnpork off in a sack! You saw that room, cat! You saw the rats crammed in cages! It's the rat-catchers who are stealing the food! Sardines says there's sacks and sacks of food! And there's something else…”
“A voice,” said Maurice, before he could stop himself.
Darktan looked up, wild-eyed. “You heard it?” he said. “I thought it was just us!”
“The rat-catchers can hear it too,” said Maurice. “Only they think it's their own thoughts.”
“It frightened the others,” mumbled Dangerous Beans. “They just… stopped thinking…” He looked absolutely dejected. Open beside him, grubby with dirt and paw marks, was “Mr. Bunnsy Has an Adventure”. “Even Toxie ran off,” he went on. “And he knows how to write! How can that happen?”
“It seemed to affect some of us more than others,” said Darktan, in a more matter-of-fact voice. “I've sent some of the more sensible ones out to try and round up the rest, but it's going to be a long job. They were just running blindly. We've got to get Hamnpork. He's the leader. We're rats, after all. A clan. Rats will follow the leader.”
“But he's a bit old, and you're the tough one, and he's not exactly the brains of the outfit—” Maurice began.
“They took him away!” said Darktan. “They're ratcatchers! He's one of us! Are you going to help or not?”
Maurice thought he heard a scrabbling noise at the other end of his pipe. He couldn't turn around to check, and he suddenly felt very exposed. “Yeah, help you, yeah, yeah,” he said hurriedly.
“Ahem. Do you really mean that, Maurice?” said Peaches.
“Yeah, yeah, right,” said Maurice. He crawled out of the pipe and looked back along it. There was no sign of any rats.
“Sardines is following the rat-catchers,” said Darktan, “so we'll find out where they're taking him”
“I've got a bad feeling that I already know,” said Maurice.