Chapter 6: The White Rat
The Blood Moon Clowder and the Ephemeral Fence Between Worlds
The City of the Dead was shrouded in a thick, red haze as the Blood Moon climbed higher into the night sky and reflected in the foggy haze on the ground. The crypts and mausoleums stood like ancient sentinels, casting long shadows over the cracked stone paths. The air was still, but a tension hummed beneath the silence, as if the very walls of the city were holding their breath, waiting for something to shift. The Blood Moon had arrived.
Electra darted between the towering tombstones, stopping at each corner to peer carefully into the dark corners, her sleek body moving furtively in the dim light. She had tricked Desiree into opening the door tonight, then slipped out the door, making her way here under the guise of chasing shadows. In truth, she had other plans. The Blood Moon was nearing its peak, and something told her that time was running out.
Hiding in the moonlight against an old mausoleum on the outskirts of the city, the Elder watched quietly as Electra scrambled through the overgrown streets of the City. Electra caught a glimpse of her mother’s green eyes flashing through the darkness. Muffin’s fur, white like her daughter’s, was ruffled slightly by the night breeze, but her posture was calm and collected. She had seen too many moons to be easily unnerved by the strange occurrences surrounding the Blood Moon.
“What brings you here?,“ Muffin murmured as Electra approached, her voice a soft chirp in the night.
Electra was not as comfortable outside in the city as her mother. Her gaze darted around the empty streets of the City of the Dead. “We need to find Greg and Snowball. Something’s happening, and we don’t have much time.”
Electra told her mother about the bat’s discovery of the captive cats and turned to walk through the City to the Mausoleum her brother, the Overlord, had claimed as his headquarters. Muffin’s expression was somber, and without another word, she fell into step beside Electra. The two cats moved swiftly through the narrow pathways, their paw steps barely making a sound on the stone ground. As they passed under the crumbling archways, the shadows seemed to stretch and twist, as if the city itself were watching their every move. They knew that it probably was.
Electra turned to her mother. “The bat, Dracine, claims Greg promised the whole bat clan a year’s reprieve from being eaten if she helps him find the vanished cats.”
Muffin paused and looked down an alley before catching up with Electra.
Electra continued, “She found them at the vet’s office. She said she would check on the status of the prisoners while I check everything out with Greg and Snowball. Leave it to my brother to…”
“It sounds like a reasonable plan,” Muffin interrupted. “We eat few enough of them as it is. Easier to catch birds and mice.”
Electra loved her mother, but she could be irritating.
High above the streets, Dracine glided silently through the sticky night air, exhausted in the oppressive heat. The Blood Moon’s red light bathed everything in an eerie glow, casting the world in shades of crimson. Dracine’s sharp eyes scanned the streets below as she approached the veterinarian’s office where the feral cats were imprisoned.
She had reluctantly decided to check on the cats held captive there. If anything went wrong, it would be on her head, and the Chief could rescind his agreement about saving her clan from the cats’ menus this year.
She tucked one wing close to her body in the air, and extended the other while extending her feet to the overhang above the window of the vet’s dungeon. She flipped upside down while gripping the old wood. The soft scramble of her feet was barely audible over the hum of the electric street lights. The air was thick with the scent of garbage, and as Dracine hung upside down over the dumpsters, she noticed a flicker of movement. Her gaze sharpened. A white blur darted between the shadows near the bins.
Dracine watched silently, hanging upside down above the dumpster, her eyes following the white shape below. It was a rat—but not one of the usual scrappy brown rats that scurried through the alleyways. This one was different. It was white as snow, standing out against the grime of the alley like a ghost. A white rat.
The white rat froze as Dracine’s shadow loomed over her, her nose twitching as she sniffed the air cautiously.
“You’re not from around here,” Dracine said, her voice calm but commanding.
The white rat’s beady pink eyes flicked upward, meeting Dracine’s gaze with a mixture of wariness and defiance. “And what business is that of yours, Bat?” she replied, her voice sharp.
Dracine tilted her head slightly, intrigued. “What’s your name?”
The rat hesitated for a moment before squaring her small shoulders. “Saoirse,” she said, her tone clipped.
Dracine’s wings rustled softly as she shifted her weight, her curiosity piqued. “The rats around here aren’t white.”
Saoirse’s whiskers twitched as she took a step back, her eyes narrowing. “I was one of the lucky ones,” she muttered, before licking her long, bald tail. “I came from the lab down the street. We were set free. It seemed like our grand opportunity, but we weren’t ready for the outside world. The cats got most of us.”
Dracine thought about the dead white rat she had seen on top of the Overlord’s mausoleum. “How did you rats get loose?”
“Some humans came in at night. Opened all the cages.”
Dracine stared at the white rat and its tiny pink eyes. “Unexpected for humans to do that. They usually prefer to trap animals.”
The night of the escape flashed in Saoirse’s mind. The cold, sterile, plastic cages of the lab had been her home for as long as she could remember. Rows upon rows of white rats, bred for experiments, had lived and died in those cages. Then, one night, chaos erupted. The humans burst into the lab, shouting and releasing the latches on the cages, then breaking them so that they couldn’t be closed again. Saoirse had been pushed out into the cold, into the unfamiliar world of the outside.
She and the others had fled into the night, scattering in all directions. But they didn’t get far. The Neighborhood cats had been searching the alleys for food—silent, deadly hunters lurking in the shadows. The rats had been easy prey for the delighted felines. One by one, they were picked off, their squeals of terror echoing in the darkness. Saoirse had watched as her companions fell and were carried off, one white rat after another. She was helpless to save them. She hid, trembling in the shadows, until the danger had passed. Since then she had survived, barely, scavenging in the trash behind the vet’s office.
Dracine’s voice pulled her back to the present. “You’ve been hiding here ever since?”
Saoirse nodded, her expression grim. “Three moons.”
Dracine studied her for a moment, her mind working quickly. This white rat was resourceful—more than that, she was a survivor.
“I have a proposal,” Dracine said slowly, her voice measured. “There are cats in that vet’s office.” “
Saoirse looked up at the bat, curious.
“The white clowder over there by the City of the Dead wants information about them. They’ve been missing for days.”
“Wait. You want me to help the cats? Did you not just hear what happened to my family?”
Dracine pulled her wings tightly around her. “Maybe I can make it worth your while.”
“That will take some convincing,” the white rat said.
“I need someone who can sneak inside without being seen and check on them.” She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. “Just see what kind of condition they’re in so I can report back to their Chief.”
“Why would I do that?” Clearly the bat had lost its mind.
“I have a deal with them that if I can get them information, they won’t eat bats for a whole year.”
“Perhaps you haven’t noticed. I’m not a bat.”
Dracine risked an exaggeration. “If you do this for me, I’ll make sure the clowder spares you, too.” She had no idea if the Chief would go for that. She just had to try.
Saoirse’s eyes narrowed, her tail twitching nervously. “And why should I trust you?”
“Because you don’t have many other options,“ Dracine replied bluntly. “You help me, and I’ll protect you. You don’t, and you’re on your own.”
Saoirse was silent for a long moment, her sharp little mind weighing the risks and rewards. Finally, she gave a small nod. “Fine. I’ll do it. But if you double-cross me, bat, I’ll find a way to make you pay.”
Dracine allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. “Deal. Now go.“
Saoirse slipped through a crack in the wall and found herself inside a large sterile space lined with metal cages. The air inside was cool, tinged with the sharp scent of antiseptic. The lights were dim, casting long shadows over the rows of cages that lined the room.
Saoirse moved swiftly, her tiny paws making nearly no sound on the cold tile floor. She scrambled along the wall behind the steel cages until she reached the ones she was looking for. The cats were huddled in their confinement, their eyes wide and fearful.
Patch was no longer wearing the cone that had once made him look so helpless. His sharp eyes followed Saoirse’s movements with a wary curiosity, but he remained silent.
“There are cats looking for you,” Saoirse told Patch. Patch’s eyes grew wide but he remained silent. “And a bat, said the rat. You know any bats?” Patch stared at the rat and shook his head.
In the next cage, Blanca was curled up in the back, trembling. Her pale fur was matted from lack of grooming, and her eyes were wide with fear.
Hushpuppy, the black cat who had once been weak and frail, now sat up straight in his cage. His fur was sleek, his eyes were bright.
Saoirse crept closer to the cages, her voice barely a whisper. “Your clowder is coming for you,” she said. “But you need to agree to spare me and Dracine. We’re helping you. Can I trust you?”
Patch was the first to respond, his voice low and gruff. “We’re not in charge of what the clowder does. We don’t want trouble. If you can get us out, we’ll do our best to talk them into sparing you. But don’t cross us. And we can’t guarantee anything.” He glanced at Blanca and Hushpuppy. Hushpuppy nodded. Blanca huddled in the back of her cage.
Satisfied with their response, Saoirse turned and slipped back out the way she came, her heart racing with the weight of her task. She would have to hope that Dracine kept her word.
Back in the City of the Dead, the night was growing darker, the Blood Moon casting an even deeper red over the ancient tombs. Electra and Muffin moved quickly, their eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of movement.
It wasn’t long before they spotted Greg the Overlord and Snowball the Chief Warrior, perched on the wrought iron fence that marked the boundary between the City of the Dead and the Neighborhood. The two powerful cats were deep in conversation, their expressions grim.
Electra and Muffin approached silently, their presence acknowledged with a single nod from Greg.
“Sister, you’re out,“ Greg said.
“I have information about the missing cat,” she replied.
Without another word, the four of them disappeared into the shadows, heading toward the Overlord’s lair in the pink mist of the blood moon night.
