City of the Rats

They crept like thieves through the corridors, darting into side passages whenever they heard someone approaching. Finally they reached a small metal door.

“This leads to the walkways above the kitchens,” Tira whispered. “The walkways are used by the Ra-Kacharz, to watch the work below, and by those whose task it is to wash the kitchen walls.”

She opened the door a crack. From the space beyond poured the smell of cooking, and a muffled clattering.

“Be very silent,” the girl breathed. “Tread softly. Then we will not be noticed. The night cooks work at speed. They have much to do before dawn.”

She slipped through the door, and the companions followed her. The sight that met their eyes astonished them.

They were standing on a narrow metal walkway. Far below lay the great kitchens of Noradz, clattering with sound and blazing with light. The kitchens were huge — as big as a small village — and filled with working people dressed as Tira was, but all in gleaming white.

Some were peeling vegetables or preparing fruits. Others were mixing, baking, stirring pots that bubbled on the huge stoves. Thousands of cakes cooled on racks, waiting to be iced and decorated. Hundreds of pies and tarts were being lifted from the great ovens. At one side, a team was packing prepared foods into boxes and glass or stone jars.

“But — surely this does not go on every day and every night?” gasped Lief in amazement. “How much food can the people of Noradz eat?”

“Only a small amount of the food prepared is eaten,” Tira whispered back. “Much of what is cooked does not pass the inspection and is wasted.” She sighed. “The cooks are valued, trained from their youngest days, but I would not like to be one of them. It makes them sad to try so hard, and to fail so often.”

They crept along the walkway, looking down, fascinated, at the activity below. They had been moving for about five minutes when Tira stopped and crouched.

“Ra-Kachaz!” she breathed.

Sure enough, two red-clad figures were striding into the kitchens.

“It is an inspection,” whispered Tira.

The Ra-Kacharz moved quickly to a place where four cooks stood, their hands behind their backs. Hundreds of jars of sugared fruits, bright as jewels, were lined up on a counter, awaiting inspection.

The Ra-Kacharz paced along the line of jars, staring at them closely. When they had reached the end, they turned and paced back again. This time they pointed at certain jars, and these the cooks picked up and put on another bench.

When finally the inspection was finished, six jars of fruit had been separated from the rest.

“Those are the jars that will be blessed, and eaten by the people,” said Tira. “The rest have been rejected.” She gazed with sympathy at the cooks, who, shoulders sagging with disappointment, had begun packing the rejected jars into a huge metal bin.

Lief, Barda, and Jasmine stared, horrified. The fruit all looked delicious and wholesome to them. “This is wicked!” Lief muttered angrily, as the Ra-Kacharz turned and strode away to another part of the kitchens. “In Del, people are starving, scrabbling for scraps. And here, good food is wasted!”

Tira shook her head. “It is not good food,” she insisted earnestly. “The Ra-Kacharz know when food is unclean. By their inspections the Ra-Kacharz protect the people from disease and illness. Noradzeer.”

Lief would have liked to argue. Jasmine, too, was red with anger. But Barda shook his head at them, warning them to be silent. Lief bit his lips. He knew that Barda was right. They needed Tira’s help. There was no point in upsetting her. She was not to understand how things were in the rest of Deltora. She knew only her place, and the laws with which she had grown up.

In silence they moved on along the walkway and at last came to the end of the kitchens. Steep metal steps led down to the ground just in front of a door.

“The Hole is through that door,” Tira said in a low voice. “But —”

She broke off and crouched once more, gesturing to her companions to do the same. The four cooks who had made the sugared fruits walked into view below, carrying the bin of rejected jars between them. The bin was now sealed tightly with a metal lid. They carried it through the door, and disappeared from sight.

“They are going to put the bin into the Hole,” Tira whispered.

A few moments later the cooks came back and walked off to their part of the kitchens to begin the task of preparing food all over again. Tira, Lief, Barda, and Jasmine crept down the steps, passed shelves lined with pots and pans, and slipped through the door.

They found themselves in a small, bare room. To their left was a red-painted door. Facing them, on the wall opposite the kitchens, a metal grille barred the round, dark entrance to the Hole.

“Where does the red door lead?” asked Barda.

“To the sleeping quarters of the Nine,” Tira whispered. “They sleep in turns, it is said, coming through this door when inspections are due.”

She glanced nervously over her shoulder. “Let us leave here, now. I brought you here because you demanded it. But at any moment we may be surprised.”

The companions crept closer to the Hole and peered through the grille. Dimly they saw the beginning of a tunnel lined with stone that seemed to gleam red. The tunnel’s roof and sides were rounded. It was very narrow, and sloped down into blackness. Deep within it, something growled, long and low.

“What is inside?” murmured Lief.

“We do not know,” answered Tira. “Only the Ra-Kacharz can enter the Hole and survive.”

“So they tell you!” said Lief scornfully.

But Tira shook her head. “In my life I have seen two people try to escape the city through the Hole,” she said softly. “Both were brought out stiff and dead. Their eyes were open and staring. Their hands were torn and blistered. There was foam on their lips.” She shuddered. “It is said that they died of terror.”

The dull roar sounded again from the tunnel. They peered into its darkness, but could see nothing.

“Tira, do you know where our weapons are?” asked Barda urgently. “The swords — and the daggers?”

Tira nodded warily. “They are waiting at the furnace,” she whispered. “Tomorrow they will be melted down, to be made into new things for the kitchen.”

“Get them for us!” Barda urged.

She shook her head. “I cannot!” she hissed desperately. “It is forbidden to touch them, and already I have committed terrible crimes for you.”

“All we want is to leave here!” exclaimed Lief. “How can that hurt your people? And no one will ever know that it was you who helped us.”

“Reece is the First of the Nine,” murmured Tira. “His word is law.”

“Reece does not deserve your loyalty,” hissed Barda furiously. “You have seen for yourself that he lies and cheats, and makes a mockery of your laws! If anyone deserves to die, it is he!”

But in saying this, he had gone too far. Tira’s cheeks flushed, her eyes widened, and she turned and ran back into the kitchen. The door swung closed behind her.

Barda sighed impatiently. “I frightened her,” he muttered. “I should have guarded my tongue! What will we do now?”

“We will make the best of it.” Determinedly, Lief lifted the grille from the tunnel entrance. “If the Ra-Kacharz can enter the Hole and live, so can we — with weapons or without.”

He turned and beckoned to Jasmine. She backed away, shaking her head.

“I cannot go,” she said loudly. “I thought Filli might be here, waiting for me. But he is not. He would not leave Noradz without me, and I will not leave without him.”

Lief felt like shaking her. “Jasmine! There is no time to waste!” he urged. “Stop this foolishness!”

She turned her clear green gaze to him. “I am not asking you and Barda to remain,” she said calmly. “You began this quest without me, and so you can continue.” She looked away. “Perhaps — it may be better, in any case,” she added.

“What do you mean?” Lief demanded. “Why would it be better?”

She shrugged. “We do not agree on — some things,” she said. “I am not sure —”

But she never finished what she had to say, for at that moment the red door behind her burst open and Reece strode in, his black eyes glistening with triumphant fury. Before she could move he had grabbed her with one powerful arm and lifted her off her feet.

“So, girl!” he snarled in her ear. “My ears did not deceive me. By what witchcraft did you escape from your cell?”

Lief and Barda started towards him but he lashed out at them with his whip, holding them back.

“Spies!” he growled. “Now your wickedness is proved. Now you invade our kitchens — to guide your evil creature to them, no doubt. When the people hear this, they will be happy for you to die a thousand deaths.”

Jasmine struggled, but his grip was like iron.

“You cannot escape, girl,” he sneered. “Even now, others of the Nine are stirring beyond this door. Your friends will die before you. I trust you will enjoy hearing their screams.”

He lashed at Lief and Barda with his whip, driving them back, slowly but surely, towards the Hole.