---Chapter 8
Patch plunged his sword through the chest of the thickset seaman from the Hannry, having just disposed of his sniveling companion inside. These 'Queen’s sailors’ were all alike: full of talk and pride, but no real fighting ability. A pirate had the jump on them every time. Though he had to admit, he would have been hard pressed if it wasn’t for the strange lad who had joined his cause.
He must be a good lad, full of pure virtues, to believe that Patch had not been cheating. And not too observant, either.
The burly Hannry’s man gaped at the sword that was sticking through him, before Patch yanked it back out again in one swift movement. His opponent staggered, falling to the walkway with a pool of blood forming around him, near where the strange lad lay.
Patch quickly turned to his young helper, expecting to see him knocked out but with no more enemies assailing him. To his surprise Patch saw someone, or some thing with what looked like a black cape covering its back, kneeling on the lad and bending over him. At that moment Jax let out a cry, apparently trying to struggle out from under the attacking creature.
“Stick it, lad, I’m comin’!” Patch jumped forward across the planks, drawing his boot back to give the black apparition a solid thump in its rear. It jerked its head up, turning towards him a face from a wine-sopped nightmare. A metal tooth seemed to be protruding from its lower face, dripping in purple ooze. Red eyes like glowing coals looked out from under a furry brow.
But it had no time to attack or retreat. Patch swung his blade in an arc, pulling all of his strength into the blow. The creature’s horrendous face rolled to the decking, while he gave its body another kick to knock it out of the way. A thin, lavender film had covered Patch’s blade, while dark goo oozed out of the creature’s severed head.
Pulling his attention away from it, Patch saw that his surprising young friend had not risen from the walkway, even with the weight off of him. He was laying clutching his throat, yellow hair soaked with the still-falling rain and spreading out around him on the deck. Afraid that he might have been gravely injured in the fight, the pirate knelt beside him.
“‘Ay now, lad, where does it hurt?”
There were bruises and scrapes on his face and fingers, but nothing that would hold a stout man down for long. There had to be something worse ailing him.
“That stupid thing...bit me,” the boy gasped, angular face contorted with pain.
“Let me see. I won’t hurt ye.” Patch gently pried his fingers away, looking for a bite. All he saw was a small, round, pricked mark with an unhealthy purple discoloration surrounding it. Evidently, there had been some sort of poison on the creature’s single tooth. Blast those Hannry sailors, bringing their freakish pet to the fight!
Patches was grave as he next spoke, “aye, ye’ve got a small wound there. We must get you somewhere dry and warm. Have you a home nearby, or come ye from a ship?”
“The train.” The lad’s eyes were fluttering as if he could hardly keep them open. “A string of wagons with steel wheels...down at the docks.”
“I’ll get ye there. Don’t be fretting.” The pirate stood up and slowly picked up the boy in his strong arms. Staggering a little, he began walking down the street. It was not going to be an easy voyage, with this heavy ballast. But he felt obliged to to do whatever he could for the lad, after he had put up his life in a gamble to help Patch. Though even if Patch got him home, the boy might not live for long.
---
Raggsy shoved his claws deep into a pocket on each side of his coat, feeling the sling coiled up in one and in the other a pawfull of hard metal knobs for flinging. Some Ratpeople thought that it was a childish weapon and, indeed, it had not helped him against his angry neighbors or Mendro Drann’s creatures recently. But it was transportable, long-range and you could fling any hard object with it, even if you ran out of sharp-edged metal bits. It had taken some time to learn the skills to use it, but by now he was steadily accurate up to a hundred yards away.
Padding thoughtfully down a narrow aisle between the crooked buildings of the floating town, Raggsy took his time to peer into windows or sniff down any drain pipes he came to. Food, cloth goods, jewelry and just about every other commodity imaginable hung inside the shops, though often the inside of them was dim, dusty or dank. Still, it was more than the Ratperson had seen being sold in a store for many years. He feasted his eyes on a ham that was hung near one window, wishing that he had some sort of coins to buy things with. But the sling and throwing weights were the only things in his pockets, besides a few knotted bits of string. All his other provisions were back in the train, and there was no money among them.
Seeing a balcony up above, Raggsy used a drainpipe and protruding board-ends to scrambled up to it, nimbly whisking over the railing at the top. The rain was still falling down in even streams, running over his helmet and making the pipe slippery. It was his claws that made the climb possible.
Up on the balcony, he hoped to get a view of the surrounding town. But the nearby buildings blocked it it even from this level, so that all he saw looking around was the narrow, twisting alley going in each direction and the faded backs of the houses across the way. Looking up, he noticed that there was a lattice of wood running up to the slanted roof above, which should make it quite easy to climb up there. With a little run and a swish of his tail to keep balance, he flung himself at the wooden slating and scrambled to the roof. Here there were tiles underfoot, far more slippery and perilous in the rain than the wooden walls of the building.
But no good Ratperson didn’t spend the younger part of his life scurrying around on rooftops, climbing slick buildings or swinging from lamp posts. Especially in the run-down city as it was, climbing was an important skill. Raggsy went on all fours over the tiles until he reached the peak of the roof, which he straddled. He was sitting near a brick chimney, which kept his back warm when he leaned against it.
Gazing around, he saw the crooked, wooden streets of the town, running in all directions or towards a central square. This square was ringed with stalls which had faded but colorful cloth covers, mostly striped or spangled. Looking towards his right, Raggsy could see the ocean spreading out for miles, with ships and the train sitting on the edge of it. In the other direction, the town rolled and bobbed towards another dark line which must have been the ocean again. In fact, the Ratperson was fairly convinced that the whole place was a sort of island, or raft, with the buildings built upon it, while it floated freely on the waters. All across it, here and there, could be seen the ominous slash of the corroding purple power.
After enjoying the view for a little while, Raggsy began to weary of the rain. His coat and helmet was some protection, but even with them he was starting to get soaked. Swinging lightly down unto the balcony, he jumped from it over onto a bridge which ran across the street into the upper story of a sail-maker’s shop. Raggsy pattered into the door on the top floor, down a flight of stairs and through the shop. The owners, working quietly on what looked like miles of canvass, looked up at him in surprise as he went by. He raised a claw in a jaunty wave, then was out the door and across the road at the lower level. On the ground floor, he found an inn nearby and entered it. He discovered it by the smell alone, as the sign only showed a fat human woman holding what looked like a shoe in her pudgy hands. Which, to him, did not suggest the food, drink and warmth which he scented within.
The patrons of this place gave him a few odd looks, but said nothing. They were used to unexpected things running in and out, day or night. Without any money, Raggsy knew he could not buy anything to eat. But there was a fire burning in a fireplace at the back of the room, so he strolled over to it and stuck his paws out to warm them.
Around him, his sensitive ears picked up the sounds of voices talking low, the clinking of glasses being moved about and the footsteps of the barmaid. The air was filled with the smell of wood smoke and the delicious odors of cooking food from an adjoining room, which he though must be the kitchen. Fresh bread, cinnamon sugar and roast beef were just some of the things that were being made in that room. Unable to stand still with those scents tickling his nose, Raggsy drifted slowly over to the curtain which hid one room from the other.
With a quick glance around to make sure that no one was paying too much attention to him, Raggsy lifted the curtain in able to peek through. A long, thin space lined with ovens and grates on one side and counters on the other met his gaze. An even thicker smoke than in the common room hung in the air, mingled with smells so strong that they almost made him giddy. Two woman, one older and the other obviously her daughter, were working like crazy to pull the rolls out of the ovens, stir gravy in a pan, roast the beef without burning it and frost a plate of cookies with brown sugar. They moved about so quickly, swinging spoons and tongs, that Raggsy was sure they could not be paying too much attention to the food left sitting on the counters.
He was nerving himself up to try lifting a few bits of the more ‘helpless’ food, when he became aware of the fact that he was not the only person looking hungrily into the kitchens. beside him, another shape was lifting the curtain to peer through. It was a boy with dark hair and a thin, drawn face full of shrewdness. As Raggsy was looking at him, the boy turned his head so that their eyes met.
“Are you hungry?”
“You bet I am.”
“Want me to tell ye how we could get something to eat?”
“Alright, what’s your plan?”
The boy indicated the older cook, “see that ‘un? She’s pretty sharp. The younger one not so much. You distract the older ‘un for a few minutes and I’ll pick up some stomach-stuffings. Then you meet me out of the back door, there, and we’ll split the plunder. Aye?”
Raggsy looked from the cooks to the back door at the other end of the long room. “Alright. As long as you think that you can get out without bein’ seen.”
A surprising smile split the hungry boy’s face. “Of course.”
Feeling like a young rat again, Raggsy pattered into the kitchen and right up to the head cook. She turned with a start to look at him, raising her gravy ladle in surprise.
“Now what do ye want?”
“Mummy cook,” the Ratperson whined, making his voice small and high-pitched, “Gimme sometin’ to eat. I’m a poor, hungry liddle thing that ain’t had a bite to eat in days.”
“Ye certainly do look like a ‘thing’!” the woman exclaimed, putting her hands to her hips. “Though what that thing is, I’m none too sure. Get ye gone, I have nothing for the likes of you!”
Raggsy scurried forward to wrap his paws in the cook’s brown, stained skirt in a pleading manner. “Ah, come on Mummy cook! Gimme jus’ a liddle somethin’ to eat!”
“Get ye gone!” The cook brought her ladle down on Raggsy’s head. Which, of course, was covered in a helmet so that all the blow did was make a loud ringing sound. Pretending to be surprised by the blow, Raggsy staggered towards the back door. “Alright, alright, I’m a-leavin’. You have such a cruel, hard heart for such a bea’utiful cook!”
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The back door opened at a touch, swinging aside to let him through. He slammed it behind him, snickering loudly. He hadn’t had so much fun since he was hardly more than a pinky, stealing sugar behind his real Mummy’s back. Looking up, he saw the boy watching him with a mischievous smile on his own face, his pockets bulging with bread and saucer of gravy clutched in his hands.
“Good going, matey. Ye ready to have a feast?”
“Not here,” Raggsy chuckled, “let’s find a secret nook to hide out in. They’ll notice the missing bread before long.”
Agreeing with a nod, the boy took off down the street. The Ratperson followed nimbly until they came to a building with a belfry on top. They climbed up into it together, sheltering from prying eyes and the falling rain under the big bell inside. With the platter of gravy between them, they split up the bread and tore into it, dipping the soft, crusty loaves into the somewhat watered-down but still delicious meat juices.
Once they had finished, Raggsy looked sideways at his companion. “Heh, that was good. But I kinda’ feel like a little bit of dessert, don’t you?”
“Like a shark wants blood,’ the boy agreed, picking up tiny crumbs from the floor by wetting the tip of his finger and dabbing at the bits. “Ye want to try the same trick at the bakery, for cookies?”
“Yeah!”
In a moment, they had scrambled down from the belfry with equal agility and were dashing through the streets towards the smell of baking cakes. At the bakery, they pulled off a like trick with just as much ease, the boy loitering through it as if trying to decide on a cookie to buy, while Raggsy engaged the baker in an argument over free hand-outs. While they were in the midst of it, the boy picked up as many frosted sugar cookies as he could hold and quietly left the shop with them. Raggsy soon joined him, followed closely by the baker’s boot, and they scrambled away to a dark cave under a bridge to eat the pilfered goods.
When they were done, the boy held out his hand to the Ratperson. “You’ve been the best partner I’ve ever had. My handle is Kecha the Beardless, what’s yours?”
“Raggsy the Ratperson.”
They shook, paw to hand, before Kecha asked, “are you going to be staying in Floatsam for long?”
“Nah, I’ve gotta’ be moving on soon,” Raggsy said reluctantly, remembering his friends. The rain had become a light mist by now, falling from a sky that was turning pale lavender rather than the bruised purple it had been before.
Kecha nodded with understanding. “Aye, I worried that ye were from a ship that would be leaving port soon. I’ve never had a partner in crime that lasted long. My last matey was a Powdermonkey on a galleon and he has not return for over a year by now. But we’ve had a good fling, ain’t we?”
“Heh, the best sort,” the Ratperson agreed. They shook hands again and Raggsy slipped down to the walkway to start his journey back to the train. He had a good instinct for direction and knew how to navigate maze-like cities, though he had never been in one that floated before. He easily set a mental course for the docks and began strolling down the streets, hands tucked in his pockets. At this level, he saw many of the purple streaks on buildings up close and smelled the strange, evil scent that always came off of them. Unlike the humans, he did not have any big, world-encompassing theories about this corruptness. He simply knew that it was bad. And where he came from, bad things had to be gotten rid of as quickly as possible, unless you could run away from them.
The evil that had changed his city and was working on all of these worlds made him both sad and angry at once. Its smell up close made his fur feel like bristling.
He was about half way back to the train when he passed a pair of men lounging outside of an inn. Their clothes were gaudy, in a ragged, dusty way. They had capes of cheap black velvet lined in crinkly stuff, all of it faded and worn. Their faces held a cruel cunning. Raggsy started to stroll past them, when one said to the other, “‘ay, there’s that rat thing that was strollin’ around earlier and bothering the cook of the Shoemaker’s Daughter. He is a freak, isn’t he?”
Raggsy ignored them, just hunching his shoulders to plug on stolidly, but the other man said, “aye, he is that. Say, let’s capture him for our traveling show. He’d make an excellent side-show to the rest of the circus!”
“Good idea.”
The men both dashed towards him at once, prying themselves away from the inn wall with surprising speed. Whipping around, Raggsy snarled at them, pulling out his sling and fitting a stone to it. “You’d better not try. Just lem’me alone, you hear?”
The men pulled to a halt, circling around him warily. “Come now, little friend, go with us and we’ll make a great future for you! You’ll have a warm place to stay and plenty to eat in between shows, I promise you.”
Raggsy just snarled again, showing his square, rodent’s teeth. The second man looked worried and tipped the nod to his friend, who agreed with a wink. All of a sudden he opened his mouth and called behind him, “hey, boys, I got us a new friend here! Help us--!”
His last words were cut off as a jagged metal knob struck him in the mouth, sending him reeling back with cut lips and at least one loose tooth. Raggsy was swift and accurate with his sling. But the harm had already been done. Almost a full dozen roguish carnies came pouring out of the inn, cracking their knuckles and shouting with glee at the fun put before them. Entirely outnumbered, Raggsy turned and ran for his freedom.
“Here I am, runnin’ for my life again,” he panted, “I hope the kids aren’t too disappointed.”
---
Lenny was awakened from his half-conscious slumber by the sound of someone kicking at the caboose door. Thump, thump, thump. Hearing no one move to answer it, he realized that Amber must be in the steam engine at the moment and had not heard the noise. Switching his energy away from the reserve, which was half full, he got up.
“I hope the inhabitants haven’t noticed us become angry,” he murmured sleepily, “with us sitting out in the open, like we are.”
Glancing out of the coach window, he saw that the rain had turned to a light, thin drizzle. When he got into the caboose, he heard someone fumbling urgently at the door. “Coming! I’m Coming!”
When he opened the door he saw a man standing outside. His hair was slicked down by the rain and one eye had a patch over it, while there was a gold earring ornamenting the opposite side of his head. But Lenny’s attention was not held to his face long. It was drawn to the figure that was draped awkwardly against the side of the stranger, supported by one arm. It was Jax, head bowed and soaked yellow hair falling down in a mess in front of his face. He appeared to be breathing, but unresponsive.
“Help me get him up in there, man, he’s hurt!” the piratical figure gasped, “I’ve been carrying him for miles, it seems.”
Lenny had felt weary when he awoke from transferring his power, but now he did not feel tired at all. Jumping down beside the stranger, he took up Jax’s feet and they carried him inside together, laying him on the lower bunk in the caboose. Feeling his pulse anxiously, Lenny tried to brush the hair out of Jax’s face.
“What’s wrong with him?”
Noticing the bruises and scrapes, he added, “was he in a fight?”
“Aye--” the stranger began, only to be cut off when Amber came through the other door into the room. She stopped in surprise upon seeing Jax laid out there, gasping, “what happened?”
“As I was sayin’” the man went on impatiently, “it wasn’t the scrapes from the fight that laid him low. Twas the thing that jumped down on him afterwards. All black fur and iron, with wings and an ugly mask of a face. It was the ugliest thing I’ve seen this side of the Cronous islands. And it bit him. Not only that, but I’m afraid that there was poison in that creature’s bite. I brought the poor lad here so that he could be warm and among friends, because he helped me, Patch MacCore, only through the goodness of his heart.”
“One of Mendo Drann’s flying creatures,” Lenny’s voice was harsh and small, “where did it bite him at?”
Patch brushed aside some of the lank yellow hair with his hand. “On the throat, here. A most terrible place to be wounded.”
Amber and Lenny both leaned over their injured friend. The slim puncture hole had all but disappeared, leaving only a patch of purple discoloration that was darker than the bruises and cold to the touch.
Lenny shook his head, “it’s infected him with the corruption, just like the man we saw on your world, Amber, who had touched one of the streaks. His hand was eaten up by it.”
“I’ve never seen a place like this,” Patch remarked aside, gazing around at the train car in wonder, “so much fancy plate in the windows and metal in the wheels.”
But neither of the young friends were paying attention to his remarks about the train. Amber had straightened up, her face pale and mouth set in a straight line. After a moment she said, “we have to do something for him. Are there any healers in this town?”
“Assuredly there is.” Patch nodded, coming back to the business at hand. “Both in the town and on my ship, though he’s not more than a rough sawbones. But I don’t know if anyone will have the cure for such a poison. If--”
He was interrupted again, this time by the rear door of the caboose being burst open by a wet, gasping Ratperson. “They’re after me! We’ve gotta’ get out of here!”
Feeling like the whole world was assaulting them at once, Lenny grabbed him by the shoulders. “Who is? Who’s coming?”
“The whole town, seems like!” Raggsy panted, “it started out as just a few freakshow fellows after me, but now a lot of people have joined the chase. Look out there! We have to use the Di-jump to get away!”
Looking out of the window, Lenny’s mind whirled. At least two dozen people of various dress, most of it worn, were pouring out of the town onto the dock. They carried nets, rolling pins, swords and even a rifle or two. They slowed as they came into the open, staring at the train warily. And he heard them beginning to shout, “the rat! Catch the rat!”
Grinding his teeth together, Lenny turned back to his friends. “We’ll have to find a healer for Jax on the next world. Perhaps it will have better technology anyway. But we can’t stay here with this coming down on us. Raggsy, why did you have to stir up the mob?”
“I didn’t!” Raggsy protested, “they just wanted me for a carnival sideshow.”
“Aye, you would make a good one,” Patch put in thoughtfully, “but I don’t like the looks of that crew out there. They would tear me apart if I tried to leave now. Can you motivate this thing without horses?”
Lenny and Amber exchanged a glance. Patch was a complication, for if they jumped now he would be forced to come with them. But another glance out the window showed the mob starting to press cautiously closer. And a moment later, a few stray bricks were heard bouncing off of the caboose door.
“Bring out the rat! We know he’s in there!”
“We’ll bring Mr. MacCore back later,” Amber suggested, “once we’ve found someone to help Jax. He looks like he doesn’t have many days to wait for a cure. Poor Jax, bit on the throat by one of those terrible things!”
“You’re right,” Lenny agreed, “I’ll make sure that everyone is touching the rod, or some bit of connected metal. Can you and Raggsy run the Di-jump?”
The young woman nodded, “Jax showed me how. Come on, Raggsy!”
They ran out of the caboose, while Lenny gave the newcomer a level look. “We’re going to have to take you out of here for now, I’m afraid. But we’ll bring you back when we can. Now...help me carry Jax to the other room. We need to prepare for departure.”
Unconcerned, not understanding what was about to happen, Patch saluted. “Aye, aye, sir. We’ll stow the lad as comfortably as possible. He helped me with no reason, now I’ll make sure everything is done right for him.”
Crossing between cars, they saw some of the crowd only a few paces away, surging towards the front of the train as they cried, “there he is! The rat went this way!”
But, luckily, no one had tried to get aboard the train so far. They were too busy dashing back and forth, making threats.
In the passenger car, they laid Jax across one rank of chairs and pulled a blanket over him. Lenny found a length of soft copper wire and wrapped it gently around one of his wrists, running the other end up to the metal rod. Patch watched with a small frown of ignorance, but said nothing until Lenny told him to hold on to the handle above their heads as well.
“Aye, there must be quite a roughness when this thing gets under weigh.” The pirate wrapped one hand around the rod, while he pulled a heavy, curved saber from his belt with the other. Outside, they still heard the hooting of the mob. But then Amber’s voice shouted from the train, “all ready?”
“Yes!” Lenny called back.
“Stand clear of the train, or it will hurt you!” she called to the crowd, while letting out a blast on the whistle. The mob fell back, surprised at the noise and afraid of the 'devilish machine’. There was a shock through the passenger’s arms and everything outside began to blur. The windows became black, flashing with strange lights in the abyss. Then...there was still darkness outside.