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We’re deep into the night and both exhausted. I want to sleep some more and wait until morning before proceeding, but an excited Inez is adamant that we have to act now.
“The SubMerged will be scouring the city for us,” she says. “It’s going to be dangerous at any time, but we have a better chance of evading capture in the dark.”
We climb down the tree and set off through the streets again, moving stealthily, hugging the shadows. We don’t trace a random path. Inez is familiar with Cornan and knows the neighbourhoods where certain groups loiter, so we head for a specific destination on the city outskirts. It’s a long hike, but we pick up speed the further we get from the centre, since Inez says the SubMerged will be concentrating on the area around Canadu. They don’t care if she escapes, just as long as she doesn’t turn up for the vote.
We make our target shortly after daybreak. It’s a small hill. Nobody lives inside the hump, but dozens of thick vines run through it, and there are holes cut out of many of them. At first we can’t see anyone and we share a weary look.
“Don’t worry,” Inez says. “The day has just begun. Very few people are out and about yet. We’ll rest here and –”
A high-pitched giggle stops her. It comes again, then we hear someone muttering on the far side of a vine that curves over the hill. We tiptoe across to the vine and lean forward. There are two children on the other side, a boy and a girl. The girl is giggling as the boy tells her a story.
“– roared at me like a bull,” he says gleefully.
“What’s a bull?” the girl asks.
“An animal like a cow.”
“What’s a cow?”
“You don’t remember cows? How old were you when you were killed?”
“Two or three. When my guardians took me back to the Born to grow, we stayed in a city. I didn’t see many animals.”
“Well, that doesn’t matter,” the boy says. “All you need to know is that he roared, ‘Bring back my maracas!’”
“What are maracas?” the girl asks.
“I hadn’t a clue,” the boy laughs, “but I figured they must be the things that I’d pinched, so I shouted back at him –”
Inez clears her throat.
The children hurl themselves away from us and dash for the nearest vine opening.
“Wait,” Inez calls. “We mean you no harm.”
The boy and girl pause and squint at us.
“Who are you?” the boy grunts. “What are you doing here? This is our hill.”
“Really?” Inez says. “I didn’t think rats owned anything. No homes of our own, no stuff of our own.”
The children look surprised.
“How does she know that, Guido?” the girl asks.
“I don’t know,” the boy says. “Maybe she tortured one of us.”
“A rat never gives away the Mischief’s secrets, even under torment,” Inez says.
The boy steps away from the vine. “Who are you?”
“Inez Matryoshka. This is Archie Lox.”
“Guido,” the boy says.
“Lena,” the girl says.
Guido’s probably no more than nine years old, while Lena is a year or two less, although obviously age isn’t the factor in the Merge that it is in the Born. They could both have lived here for a hundred years or more.
“I scurved with the Mischief many years ago,” Inez says.
I don’t know what that means, but Guido seems impressed. “Were you a rat?”
“No,” Inez says.
“So you’re a flea,” he sneers.
“Anyone who’s not a rat is a flea,” Lena says with an air of total authority.
“I was and still am a flea in most respects,” Inez says lightly, “but the Mischief of the time declared me a mouse.”
Guido’s eyes light up. “A mouse!” He makes the greet. Lena tries to make it too, but gets confused and doesn’t do it the right way. Inez returns the gesture regardless, and the girl puffs up proudly.
“I need to ask a favour,” Inez says.
“Do we owe you one?” Guido asks craftily.
“Rats neither own nor owe,” Inez replies, and it’s clearly the right thing to say, because Guido asks what she wants. “We need to meet with the Mischief.”
“If you’re a mouse, you should know where to find them,” Guido says.
“It’s been centuries,” Inez sighs. “I’m sure the Mischief has moved quarters many times since.”
Guido pulls Lena aside and the pair have a whispered conversation. Lena glances at us sweetly, and he snaps at her and demands that she focus. In the end Guido pulls himself up straight, trying to act like a lawyer. “How do we know you don’t mean the Mischief harm?” he asks sternly.
Inez shrugs. “What harm could a mouse or flea do to a rat?”
Guido grins, then remembers he’s supposed to be serious, and wipes the smile away. “We’d have to blindfold you,” he growls.
“No,” Inez says. “If you can’t trust us completely, you shouldn’t trust us at all. Lead us there or don’t.”
“Was this guy a mouse too?” Guido asks, pointing at me.
“No,” Inez says.
“Then we’ll only take you.”
Inez wraps an arm around me. “Archie’s my tail. Where I go, my tail goes.”
Guido and Lena withdraw again for another discussion.
“Tail?” I hiss.
“It’s the highest compliment a rat can pay a flea,” she says.
“I thought you were a mouse.”
“Be quiet,” she huffs, “or I’ll tell them you’re a cat, and you wouldn’t like what they’d do to you then.”
Guido and Lena return.
“Alright,” Guido says.
“You can come with us,” Lena smiles.
“But only if you can keep up,” Guido adds.
Then the two of them race to the hole in the vine, throw themselves in and scurry forward, doubled over because it’s not that big.
“Run like the wind, Archie,” Inez whoops, hurrying after the rats.
Before I can respond, she’s launched herself in, and I have to tear after her with a worried yelp or risk being left behind.