Rat Scratch Fever (Cricket Argyll)

[Substitute Author]

L?Enfer, c?est les autres.

?Cookie? ?M sorry ?bout stealin? yer ladle an? stuff, but I brought it back good as new!? He was the first thought Cricket had after escaping to the world above ground. Well?fourth maybe, but the first three would not do to discuss among company, pleasant or otherwise.

The little piebald ratmaid sniffed at the dusty air as she entered into the torch-lit kitchen area where she had last seen and pilfered the Black Brine?s former cook. There were neither hide nor hair nor smell of the cat. That was odd. If he was to be found anywhere, it would be in his customary lair, with the lights out and a bottle of drink in paw. Here instead was a kitchen in disarray with only the scent of? ?Cookie?? she rounded the stone center table and was met by the face of a nasty, old weasel.

?Wadda you want, brat?!? the silvery-furred mustelid she recognized as Bluefang demanded groggily. Cricket recalled he had been a regular dishwasher due to insubordination.

?Where?s?Cookie?? again she scanned the kitchen in the vain hope that the feline would somehow appear magically from the faint shadows in the corners or pop out from an unfeasibly small cabinet shouting ?Boo!?.

?That fool o? a wildcat?? Bluefang scratched at his muzzle and yawned as the rodent nodded rigidly, gritting her teeth to keep from commenting about ?fools?. Even in her short time among the slaves, Cricket had come to appreciate the power of pretending to be nice. However annoying it proved, creatures tended to be more cooperative if you held your tongue until after receiving the information or help you wanted. ?Got hisself killed days ago. Wasn?t you around??

The rat was no longer stiff. Her eyes grew wide enough that they might have looked in danger of falling out as her jaw hung agape and she slumped to the floor, now sitting next to the weasel. That?s impossible! There?s no way. Cookie can?t? ?H-how?? she whispered.

Bluefang picked his nose. ?Came chargin? out in the middle o? the slave?s escape roarin? ?bout his ladle or summat.? The ladle?Cookie got??cause I? ?That big ol? badger wrapped a chain round his neck an? tightened it till the kitty?s head popped right off. Was there t?see it all, I was, an? tweren?t a purtty thing I c?n tell you that. No sirree!? Badger! No! Of course it was not her fault! It was Ulrick. It was all that fat, ugly detestable Meanystripe?s fault Cookie was? ??Course, can?t says I was choked up terrible like ?bout the whole thing. Anybeast what serves up thinkin? beasts outside o? birds in a soup deserves whatever the good Fates gives him. H?yup!?

?But?? Fire. There was a burning sensation in Cricket?s stomach as her small paw shot out and gripped the older vermin?s wrist with needle-sharp claws. ?But ya ate the soup too!? she fumed. ?Yer doin? one thing an? sayin? another, ya two-faced frog spawn. Adults ain?t s?posed t?do that!?

Bluefang jerked free and backpawed the girl, sending her sprawling on the hard, dusty floor. He stood even as she scrambled to regain her footing, teeth bared in a defensive snarl. ?Keep comin? toward me an? I?ll bite yer leg s?hard they?ll be callin? ya ?gimp? fer the rest o? yer mis?able life, Graywhiskers!? the rodent threatened.

?Hah!? The weasel snorted derisively, but was careful to keep his distance. ?Anyway, brat, lis?en up, ?cause I?m only gonna say this once: when a beast has t?choose atwixt his gut an? his moral sensibil?ties, he?ll always go for what keeps his tummy full. S?the only way he?ll have a chance t?care ?bout anything else. When you?re dead, can?t rightly care ?bout much, can you? It?s ?cause as we gots grub that keeps us from goin? feral-like an? rippin? each other apart all willy-nilly.? He closed his eyes and nodded sagely, but stopped midway through when he felt a painful bonk on his nose. ?Yeagh!?

?You lis?en up, Graywhiskers,? Cricket growled, brandishing Cookie?s ladle and well out of the weasel?s range by the door, ??cause I?m only gonna say this once: woodlanders don?t fit yer lit?le formula. I been with ?em. I know. They?re all idiot enough t?starve ?emselves t?gether, than let one die t?save the rest. An? as fer us?yer a vermin, an? a stupid ?un at that. Ya ain?t got morals so don?t try t?sound all high an? mighty!?

With that, she stormed off leaving the befuddled old slacker to his philosophical ramblings. Backwards, lug-brained toadstool! ?Magine sayin? that stuff ?bout Cookie! When I tell him? She halted her indignant march. ?There?s no way Cookie could die.? There?s not even a grave! But what if there had been no graves because there were no bodies? Food was in short supply on this Fates forsaken island. That demonic thing called the Big Evil was proof enough for that with as many as he had taken. What if the crew had decided not to waste all that perfectly fine meat and?

The ladle dropped from Cricket?s paw as she doubled over, clutching her muzzle and gagging. Mice and hares and hedgepigs and badgers?maybe even the particularly annoying crewbeast, but Cookie? Cook he might be but the feline was practically fur and bones. And with the amount of foul-smelling alcohol he imbibed... Ugh! Who would want to eat Cookie?! Apparently starving beasts.

Cricket mastered her stomach and retrieved the ladle, the last piece of her mentor, friend and personal demon. ?Cookie?s dead.? Saying it out loud made it a little bit easier. ?Pushin? up daisies. Checkin? out o? the inn. Snuffed it. Gone t?the hottest kitchen in Hellgates. Cheehee?Ain?t gonna be food for the worms, though, Cookie. No sirree! Food for the crew, though. Cheheheh!

?Stop it!? The little rat stamped her footpaw hard and tightened her grip on the ladle. She could not afford to laugh her head off now. Work was to be done and Meanystripes to be murdered. An? any other fool what gets in my way.

Revenge was a bit clich?, even in her few years, the rodent knew that and it was not as though Ulrick had done her much of a disservice. However much she liked Cookie, he was dreadfully frightening and would likely have killed her for leaving him without his ladle for so long. Perhaps it was even better this way. Still, it was the principle of the matter. Cookie had belonged to Cricket and the brute of a badger would pay for breaking the rat?s cat toy.

But?where would I find him? There was the matter of the Big Evil chasing them and possibly eating some of the slaves along with the crew that it had apparently got according to what brief part of Ashira?s speech the child had deigned to listen to while whisking away. What had become of the slaves, though? Broo-haha, Spiky, Meanystripe, Fishface Kelsey, and Ragears Roger? Revenge definitely was not worth another romp in the tunnels. Maybe if she could get one of the crew to?

Vengeance in regard to Cookie was completely forgotten when she spotted the first scraggly nose poking out of the ground as a hidden trapdoor in the dirt was raised. Those in the courtyard did not notice it, probably because they were too busy shoring up the fort and cellar entrances and being wary of?The slaves! No. No. Focus. And there he was. Obligo and the rest of his detestable lot trying to sneak back into the fort from below ground. It was not long before the crowd of miniature rodents were detected, though. The slaves especially, somehow avoiding immediate capture and actually assisting the crew side-by-side, raised their hackles and glared at the emerging island rats.

Wakeeha brought up the rear, shaking and wiggling like an earthworm. The one responsible for almost killing her. ?Whacky!? Cricket squeaked from across the yard, charging forward with her ladle raised to give the shaman Hell?s teeth and mo-- ?Ack!? Her progress was arrested when Ashira caught hold of her shirt and flung her backward without even bothering to cast a cursory glance at the child.

?Where have you been?? the ferret demanded without preamble.

?Trying to sacrifice Cricket and me to their pet,? Tassle replied sourly as both crew and former slaves converged on the natives. The barricading was mostly complete given the few materials available and eager bodies wanting little to do with the monsters living below the earth. ?Would have, too, if the others hadn?t rescued us.?

?And then o?course you had to set it runnin? right at us,? one of the crew who had survived with Ashira?s group snarled. ?Shoulda just been eaten. Woulda solved a lot of prob--?

?That?s enough,? Silus commanded with a chopping motion of his paw as his keen eyes took in the ragtag natives who stood silently bristled in front of them. ?We?ll deal with them tomorrow after we?ve finished here. There are more important things to do now. Make sure that trap door they came up from is covered with something heavy.?

?But ya can?t jist leave ?em! They tried t?kill me!? Cricket howled, lashing her long tail across the ground for emphasis. The weasel?s yellow gaze turned to her and the girl felt a dagger of cold fear pierce her heart. Her mismatched eyes dropped from his in little more than ten seconds. Why?why can?t I be brave like I was afore with the raft?

?Go back to work!? Curse them all to the depths! Cricket went.