The Monster at the End of This Book

[Silas Hetherton]

A claw the size of Silas?s entire body reached out to the raised platform on which he stood, poised with his hooks. One support snapped with a crunch and in a desperate effort to keep from falling from the teetering structure, the rat leapt onto the giant crab?s claw, using it as a springboard to launch himself at its bulbous back. Column-like legs rose high in agitation as Silas clung to the back of the colossal crab, using his sickles like anchors, blades wedged into the seams of its thick shell.

With a lurch the giant crab spun first left, then right, trying to throw the rat, but Silas held tight in spite of a plethora of throbbing injuries, remembering Jace?s commentary about the back being the one place those massive, skull-crushing claws could not reach. The crowd roared as the rat rode the crab backwards around the arena, body whipping back and forth across the smooth blue-tinted exoskeleton. Silas wondered how long he would last as his arms began to ache. There were joints in that armor, however, and even if Silas had learned nothing else from previous battles, one thing he now knew with certainty: No monster was indestructible. They all had their weaknesses, with or without the FTN?s intervention.

Silas decided to capitalize on the position of his sickles, and work them deeper between the sections of carapace. The crab squealed as his blades cut down into softer tissue and its movements became more erratic, jerking him this way and that, deepening the wounds involuntarily. As if it realized it was doing more harm than good, the giant stopped, and began to dig.

Silas worked quicker as the opportunity of stability presented itself, slicing further along the segment, separating the tail tug by tug. The crab shrieked again, digging furiously, but it had reached the floor of the arena and could go no further.

With a sickening squelching pop, the crab?s massive tail split away from the rest of its body, its own weight aiding in the slow, agonizing separation of internal connections. Its legs waved frantically and it shrieked in pain as Silas slid on the smooth surface now slicked with blue blood ? right into the fleshy gap. The crowd cheered and whooped even more as the rat carved the crab from the inside, sending it into massive convulsions until it curled up and rolled onto its back with a long, agonized sigh. Silas crawled out of the twitching body, wet with blue blood and mucus. The audience chanted his name and he raised one sickle, as always, at Blasio Timberfell.

One day. One day this will be your carcass.

He turned to walk off the sandy field when Nire?s amplified voice echoed through the stands above. ?Ladies and gentlebeasts! What a glorious two weeks of claw-biting clashes and unprecedented triumph the Reaper has presented for us! Has it not been extraordinary?? Cheers of affirmation rolled through the expansive crowd.

?Therefore, I am pleased to announce that this is not the end. There is going to be one more monster battle! The ultimate clash to finish off this magnificent marathon ? and you are not going to want to miss it!?

Silas glared at the lynx. The fact that there was supposedly an end to the list had kept the exhausted and battered rat going in spite of numerous injuries and stings. It was supposed to be over now.

Nire continued. ?The Reaper has defeated every monstrosity that has been thrown at him thus far, but there is one monster he has yet to conquer!? The rumbling audience quieted as thousands strained to hear, including Silas.

?The Monster of Mossflower!? The crowd burst into a frenzied cheer as Silas staggered. He could hear his heartbeat throbbing in his ears, drowning out the noise around him.

He lurched through the open gate, away from the uproar. Away from the multitudes of eyes?

?and wept.

******************************************************

Silas knew that he could not kill Minerva, and he was sure Nire did too. This would be it for him. The end of all his efforts. He would never have the chance to avenge his family? unless he found a way to get at Blasio first. Silas moved with purpose, turning his swords over to the guards and making straight for the mess hall. He had asked to meet up with Timberfell on multiple occasions, but the beaver was a busy beast, and never seemed to have time ? even for a gladiator he supposedly favored. Jace had promised to work something out, but so far nothing had come of his efforts. There always seemed to be some excuse. Well not this time.

Beasts stared at the rat as he searched for Jace Lindley, dripping blue crab blood across the floor. Spotting an orange puff of a tail in the far corner, Silas marched over to where the squirrel was chatting blithely with Kali, who still had red circles of paint around her eyes and a yellow chin. Those eyes went wide as the gruesome rat turned the squirrel around roughly.

?Oh! Silas! Hurrah ? I knew you could do it!? Jace chuckled nervously, taking in the gore-slicked rat.

?No more runaround. Take me to Blasio. Now.?

The squirrel shrunk back at the terrible look in Silas?s bloodshot eyes. ?Uh? alright? ? He cleared his throat. ?Shouldn?t you maybe? wash up first??

?Now!? Silas snarled, blood still running hot with adrenaline.

The squirrel scurried to comply. Silas took a steadying breath as the bat met his eyes once again. He gave a slight nod, confirming her unasked question.

?Silas ?? she squeaked as he turned to leave. He paused, looking back. ?If there?s anything I can do to help?? She smiled weakly.

?Thank you. But no.? He looked away, then back again. ?You?re a decent beast, Kali. Don?t let them take that from you.? Then he turned and left with the squirrel.

?That sounded rather? final?? Jace observed as they marched hurriedly up the tunnel.

?This next battle might be my last. I?d rather not leave things unsaid.?

The squirrel gawked. ?Next battle? But I thought the crab was your last!?

?At the Crater, the battles are never over. Your ?last battle? is the one in which you die.?

Jace watched the floor rising before them, chewing on the rat?s words. ?Can I help? I mean, even if it?s not a monster, I still know a lot about the way different species move and react??

?Sorry. Not this time. I wish it were that simple. But even if you knew how, would you really want to kill someone who was a friend?? He paused. ?A mother?? Silas?s eyes bored into the squirrel?s and Jace swallowed, looking a little sick. He slowed as they reached the first guard and showed his bracelet. The burly cat nodded and the two beasts ascended a flight of stairs to ground level.

?So why do you want to see Blasio?? The squirrel asked between puffs of breath. ?Think he can help??

?We have some unfinished business.? Silas answered flatly.

?It?s right up here,? Jace gestured up another tall flight of stairs after showing his pass to another guard. ?But I can?t guarantee he?ll be in. Or that he?ll even see you.? Silas did not answer, climbing the stairs instead. Both beasts were winded once they reached the top, but Silas?s training kept his body moving. Jace lagged and the rat had to wait for the wheezing squirrel to catch up. Finally Jace rejoined him and led him to a polished wood door at the end of the long hallway. The rat reached for the shiny brass beaver-head knocker, ring clamped between its sizeable teeth, and struck metal against metal. After a moment Jace shrugged and turned to go, but Silas refused to budge.

?He?s not here. What are you gonna do, wait all night??

?If I have to.? Silas crossed his arms sternly.

Jace ran a pink tongue across his lips, scratching an ear self-consciously. His eyes flitted between Silas and the stairs, then he slouched against the wall with a sigh. ?You?re going to get me into all kinds of trouble, aren?t you??

Silas thought of Truggo then, and a sense of guilt caused him to look away. They wouldn?t blame Jace for this, would they?

?This is a dangerous place to be, even as a visitor, you know. One wrong move and you get tossed into the arena along with the rest.?

?Pshh,? the squirrel scoffed. ?They wouldn?t do that to me. I?m famous!? However, his confidence seemed to waver as voices echoed up from the stairs. Slowly, the hulking form of Blasio Timberfell rose before them, followed by an otter bodyguard.

?The definition of ?monster? is where the trouble lies. And frankly it?s not worth the dispute. Let him?? The beaver stopped mid-sentence upon sight of the two beasts waiting at the end of the hall. ?Hm. What have we here?? The musk of the otter filled the corridor and Silas felt his heart rate rise again. Blasio loomed large above the small squirrel and rat. ?Reaper. I suppose you?ve come to discuss this new twist of events??

?He insisted I bring him to you, Mr. Timberfell.? Jace piped. ?If you?d rather not be bothered, I?ll take him back down.?

The beaver considered the sticky-coated rat. ?Thank you, Lindley. I?ll take it from here.? The squirrel left, absolved, while the beaver unlocked the office door with a heavy click of a bolt.

Inside Blasio?s office, the aroma of aspen and various sweet woods filled the air. Although it was sparsely decorated, the woodwork was intricate and unique, incorporating polished twists of roots and bronzed leaves, rich and sophisticated. Silas might have admired it, had he not seen with his own eyes the broken and embittered beasts Blasio?s successes left behind. His family would not be the only beasts avenged.

?Kindly refrain from sitting, if you would,? Blasio waved a paw. ?These chairs are made of imported chenille.?

Silas thought of sitting anyway, but stopped himself. Blasio?s ignorance was his only advantage. He remained standing as the beaver eased into a comfortable, high-backed chair, custom built to accommodate his huge, flat tail. The otter guard attended to the fireplace, lighting a bundle of kindling under the flue.

?I?ve come to talk to you about the past.? Silas growled.

?The past? Usually a thing best left to rot, if you ask me. Our lives lie in the future, after all.? Blasio smiled and pulled a thin twig of aspen from a canister at his side to gnaw. ?As a gladiator, you should know this. How great you were matters little if you cannot perform now.?

?I used to think that way. That our lives were in the future. Until my children died.?

Blasio continued to chew, albeit more slowly. ?I see. And Nire was somehow responsible, I presume??

Silas watched as the otter struck flint and steel to the kindling, seemingly mesmerized by the tiny rupture of flames. He reached down to scratch at his leg as Blasio?s eyes too were drawn to the fire.

?Actually he wasn?t.? Silas?s paw grasped the viper fang and he straightened.

?They died in Burrfield.?

It took a moment before understanding registered on the beaver?s face.

Then Silas lunged.

?Arrrgh!? The beaver stood, his chair upending with a slap of his tail. He threw the rat violently against the wall and gripped his thigh where the snake?s fang sank deep. The otter guard drew his sword on Silas, but the rat only laughed.

?You?re too late. He?s been poisoned with viper venom. It doesn?t matter what you do.? He laughed even more when the rug behind the otter caught on fire from the scattered kindling. The guard cursed and called for help, stamping at the flames as he kept Silas at sword point.

?Medic! Fire! Escaped prisoner! We need help!?

The guard from the base of the stairway clambered up and took stock of the situation, whistling for backup before plunging in to grab a washbasin to toss on the fire. Silas watched the beaver from where he lay slumped against the wall. Blasio panted and groaned, blood oozing around his paw.

?I hope you die a long, slow death.? Silas hissed, enjoying the pain and fear on Blasio?s face until more guards came and hauled the rat away.

*************************************************

Hours later, Silas felt a sense of de ja vu as the mink guard who first brought him down to the drag banged on the bars of his solitary cell.

?Gonna take me down to the washing station again?? Silas smirked. ?I could use a good scrubbing??

The mink smirked. ?No such luck this go ?round.? He jerked his head toward the exit. ?Nire wants a word.?

The mink left and soon the familiar lynx took his place, eyes alight in the torchlight.

?Hello Nire,? Silas spoke from the shadows. ?I know he was kind of a buddy of yours, but don?t take it personally. It was never about you, after all.?

The cat huffed. ?It?s a lucky thing for Blasio that you?re such an incompetent assassin.?

Silas stood up and approached the lynx, eyes narrowed. ?How.?

Nire studied the armored rat for a moment. ?Blasio is recovering just fine, though he might be limping for a while. The fang held no venom. Or if it did, it dried up.? The lynx shrugged.

Silas cursed, gripping the bars.

?So it would appear we are right back on schedule, sans a sponsor.?

?No. You can?t do this.? Silas shook the bars.

?Actually, I can.? Nire started to walk away.

?Listen to me ? Blasio is not your friend. He?s just biding his time before he stabs you in the back!? Silas shouted after the Lord of the Crater. ?I should know! I?ve been tracking him for seasons on seasons! He?s a power-hungry villain who will stop at nothing to reach the top! That means taking you down too!? Silas paused, listening intently, unsure of whether Nire was even within hearing range. Then suddenly the cat appeared in front of him again, silent as a ghost.

?I know what kind of beast Blasio is. He?s a businessbeast. Like me.?

Silas set his jaw, gritting his teeth. ?He?s funding the FTN right under your nose. When the time is right, he?s gonna stab you in the back and take your place.?

Nire snarled at the mention of the freedom movement, then looked away, weighing the rat?s words carefully.

?Let me fight him in the arena,? Silas pushed. ?That?s all I ask. He?s a traitor. He deserves to die. I just want the chance to make things even.?

Nire half growled, half purred. ?As fun as that sounds, I?m going to have to veto your proposal.?

?After all I told you? He?s working against you! That?s treason!? Silas shouted.

?And do you happen to have physical proof that Blasio is helping the FTN?? Nire challenged, voice low and controlled.

Silence.

?That?s what I thought. See, I believe you, Reaper, that you want Blasio dead. More than anything. So you?ll say anything.?

?But it?s??

Nire cut him off. ?Do you know why the FTN failed before??

Silas grew quiet.

?They failed because Blasio Timberfell told me all about their plans of attack. He had spies throughout their ranks and when the time came, he didn?t turn against me. He informed me. And we destroyed them. Together.?

?They?re still here.?

?What you see today is but a shadow of the resistance that came before.? Nire insisted. ?A cloud that will disperse at the slightest breeze of affliction.?

Silas brought himself as close to the cat as he could, pressing his face against the bars until his teeth were exposed. ?Blasio knows how to wait and plan. However long it takes, he will wait patiently until the time is ripe. It?s how he works. Give him to me.?

Nire?s nose twitched, as if smelling the rank coating of crab gore for the first time.

?No.?

Silas bellowed, reaching for the lynx through the bars, but coming up just short. Nire lifted his paws as though helpless. ?The fliers have been pressed. Tickets have already been bought?? He shrugged as the rat clawed at the empty air in front of him. ?In a day, we?ll see what kind of monster slayer you really are.?

***********************************************

Silas remained in isolation the day before the fight. He viewed the hours as might a beast awaiting his execution, contemplating the path that led him here and what life meant. He was a horde rat who had tried to live rightly, only to have it all ripped from his paws. He might have fared better, in the end, had ne never left the horde. Jubilee would have married another river rat rather than a farmer, and might have had a full and happy life, untainted by the agony of bereavement and poverty. His children would never have suffered and died.

But they also would not have existed. And he would not have known them, loved them, or missed them.

The rat sighed as he lay looking up at the dark web of cracks in the ceiling, picturing Artie, reading secretly when he thought his parents were asleep, as if the stunted candle wouldn?t give him away the next day. ?Just one more chapter!? he would beg, gripped by tales meant for mice of Martin the Warrior and Badgers of Legend. Books Silas too, had grown up on.

And in the other dark corner, there was little Heidi, tucking her stuffed dolls in one at a time and singing them their own lullaby.

Syeep, syeep, bwooty bwight,
Smy-owes of da mownin? light,
O?er dye cheek, and o?er dye bwest,
Where dye yiddle heart duff west.

And Jubilee, watching them sleep, stroking their soft baby faces. The happy gleam in her eye ? the unspoken love she conveyed through simple touch, running her fingers through the fur of his head and around his ears. Reassurance after a long hard day, that it was all worth it.

Silas curled his paw against his own face as he lay, half awake, remembering her scent, her soothing voice, and the tiny flutter of movement under her skin of the babe he never saw. The words from her last letter came back to him then.

Beloved, do not despair. Soon we will be together again, and all of this will be but a sad memory in our hearts. Love?s balm will heal the dark patches, and we will lay new dreams and memories like leaves of gold across open pages.

The rat awoke to an unfamiliar guard, clanging his spear against the iron bars. ?Armor up, Reaper. Time to go.? Silas glanced at the pile of tough snake hide. Blasio?s gift, stained and rotten with crab entrails, which was somehow fitting. He had managed to clean most of the blood from his fur using the cell?s wooden wash basin, and the undergarment fit him well enough. He tucked his letters into his boots when the guard looked away, and the wooden coin under his sleeve at the shoulder.

?I will go as myself.?

The guard shrugged and led him out to the arena where the largest crowd Silas had yet seen awaited. He saw signs painted with his sigil being waved, as well as Minerva?s noose hook. Guards led him down to the armory to acquire his weapons, placing him at one of the ground-level gates to the arena. The sickles were the old set with which he?d killed the viper, but it didn?t matter. He was glad not to have Blasio?s support.

Nire?s famliar voice boomed across the sands. ?Aaaand at the west gate, I give you? the monster mangler ? the wasp whisperer ? the carapace cleaver ? the bane of all creatures who creep and sting ? the Reeeeeeeeaperrrrrrrrrrrrr!? The gate lifted and Silas stepped through. On the far side he saw Minerva in her light armor, holding a shield and spear. She waited for the horn blast signal, then walked out to the middle of the arena the same as Silas. It felt like a lazy sparring match at first as they feinted and tested one another, blocking and parrying half-hearted strikes.

Soon the crowd grew restless, murmuring with displeasure.

?Don?t worry, friends. I am sure the Monster of Mossflower is simply testing her opponent for weaknesses. Soon the Monster will awaken. Let?s just hope the Monster Slayer will be able to withstand the attack of such a primitive and blood-thirsty beast. He doesn?t look quite himself today.?

?Monster! Monster! Monster! Monster!? The audience began to chant.

Minerva glanced from Nire to Silas, a cornered look on her face, then gritted her teeth and attacked. Silas deflected stab after stab, trapping the spear once only to have the otterwife tear it free with a grunt and stab again, grazing his leg. Silas hissed as blood ran down his leg, but kept his balance as more jabs forced him back.

Nire taunted via the loud hailer. ?And I don?t know what?s going on with the Reaper, but it appears he?s holding back! Could it be that he is afraid??

Booing rumbled through the crowd, but Silas remained on the defense.

You?re pretty good at blocking, but eventually a blow is going to get through? Silas recalled the mouse, Burl?s earlier observation, but he could not bring himself to strike at the otter, even if she did give him an opening, which she didn?t. Another graze across the shoulder and Minerva twirled her spear to knock one of Silas?s sickle swords from his grasp. A cheer arose in response.

?Please, fight back. At least a little,? she finally spoke, and for the first time, Silas saw tears in her eyes. He paused, swallowing, and nodded, coming at her with a short strike. Though the blade was designed to circumvent a shield, Silas made sure it did not, and smacked the shield, as if that were his main target. He paid for the lunge as Minerva?s spear sank quickly between his ribs, almost on instinct. Silas gasped in shock, falling to his knees and dropping his remaining sword as he wheezed for air, blood bubbling from the wound. He bowed before the otter, paws clutching his side.

?Silas! I?m sorry!? She started towards him, but he held up a paw.

?Do? ? he rasped between gasps, ?what? you hahh?. have to?? He looked up at her, meeting her eyes. ?Save? her.?

Minerva slashed her spear through the air and turned to the crowd. ?The Reaper is defeated!? She shouted. ?There is no more to see!? But the crowd was not satisfied.

Silas could focus on little but catching his next breath, yet the words still reached his burning ears.

?Fi-nish him! Fi-nish him!? they chanted. Minerva snarled at them all, cursing their bloodlust, then turned reluctantly to Nire.

Silas knew his sentence without seeing, watching the face of his friend instead. She hung her head, paw flexing against the spear shaft, then turned to Silas, who lay curled in the sand. Beside him the wooden coin given by the FTN had fallen, paws holding tiny paws.

?I?m sorry,? she said, half choking on the words, and thrust the spear through his heart.