Nycht fell back and disappeared into the shadows.

Mousey felt a sense of dread wash over him, and his eyes searched the edges of the campfire’s light for any sign of his foe. He thought back to the tactics he’d been taught while training to join the Nocturnal Patrol.

Bats had an advantage in the darkness, for they could use not only their eyes and noses, but also their ears to find their prey. Bats could emit high-pitched shrieks, which allowed them to map out their surroundings far better than mice could.

Of course, Nycht wasn’t a real bat. His only advantages were his dark armor and the fact that he’d trained in darkness longer than Mousey had.

Mousey’s ear twitched, and he turned to aim his stave at the noise he’d heard. Just as he looked in that direction, mud fell over his campfire.

Nycht had robbed Mousey of his primary light source, but he’d also given away his position. Mousey aimed at the trees just beyond the campfire and sent a volley of pebbles flying through the air.

Tink!

One of the pebbles struck metal.

Mousey adjusted his aim to the source of the sound and launched a larger stone.

The stone cracked the trunk of a tree, but it seemed Nycht had moved out of the way in time.

Mousey thought back to the candles that lit up his house when it got dark. He held out one paw, and soon, dozens of candle flames

danced over his pads.

Mousey flicked his paw towards the trees nearby, and the flames all scattered. Within a few moments, hundreds of candle flames danced in the air all around and above him. “You can’t hide this time, Nycht.” Mousey walked into the more well-lit areas of the camp. “Face me.”

Mousey heard the flap of leathery wings.

Nycht lunged at him, his blade pointed at Mousey’s heart.

With a wave of Mousey’s stave, a shield knocked aside Nycht’s attack.

Nycht spun with the momentum of Mousey’s deflection and brought his sword around at Mousey’s head.

Mousey raised his stave, and a sword appeared beside it to block Nycht’s attack.

Nycht planted his foot firmly on Mousey’s chest and kicked him back, onto the ground.

No sooner had Mousey fallen in the mud, then his opponent was after him again. Their blades clashed together over and over, as Mousey searched for any opportunity to escape. Nycht had him trapped.

Every time Mousey flailed to defend himself, he felt he was sinking deeper and deeper into the mud.

All the while, Nycht continued his vicious assault. Every swing struck harder than the last as his rage boiled over.

Then, as just as Mousey had blocked another of Nycht’s thrusts, the lieutenant kicked the stave from Mousey’s paw.

Nycht pressed the tip of his blade to Mousey’s throat. “Enough!”

Terror gripped Mousey’s heart, as if in a vice, and he trembled. He stared up at his foe with pleading in his eyes, but he knew better than to expect mercy. Not long ago he’d spoken like a warrior. His victory over Mogur had made him arrogant, and now he was about to pay the price.

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Nycht towered over him for a moment, still holding the blade to his throat. Then, to Mousey’s surprise, he pulled away, “By the Heavens! I can’t do it! Gah!”

“What?” squeaked Mousey. Without letting his eyes leave the

lieutenant, his paw searched the ground for his stave. “Not that I’m ungrateful, but… why not?”

Nycht rounded on him again and lifted his visor. Mousey’s paw stopped its search while his foes eyes were upon him. “You still don’t recognize me? How could you not remember?”

“I…” Mousey looked up at the other mouse’s face, trying to recall where he’d seen him before. “I’m sorry… I don’t know you…”

“I’m Topo Souris!” Nycht yelled. “Mousey… I can’t kill you because you’re my son!”

Mousey squinted as he looked up at Nycht’s face. After a moment, he finally recognized features he’d seen in all his brothers’ faces, as well as in his own reflection. “Dad?”

“Yes!” Nycht threw up his paws in exasperation. “How could you forget me?”

“You disappeared just after I’d started to grow fur!” Mousey yelled back. “And I thought you were dead! How was I supposed to remember—”

“Ugh! Never mind!” Nycht scratched at his scalp and paced back and forth.

Mousey grabbed his stave and used it to help himself up. “If you’re really my father… why did you hit Mom?”

“What?”

Mousey glared at Nycht. “You hit my Mom in the face with the pommel of your sword! Why?”

Nycht groaned. “Look, I’m sorry I hit Xandra.” Since Mousey had never heard his mother’s first name spoken out loud, it took him a moment to realize who he was talking about. “My subordinates would have run her through had I not,” said Nycht. “It was regrettable… but it had to be done.”

“Bah!” Mousey groaned, then glanced back at his mother to see if she was still where he’d left her. She still rested in the blanket Mousey had provided.

“The more important question,” Sopher spoke in Mousey’s mind, “is why did he leave? Why didn’t he come back?”

“Yes, that’s right!” squeaked Mousey.

“What’s right?” said Nycht, giving Mousey a look as if the pup had lost his mind.

“Why did you leave?” Mousey yelled. “If you’re really my Dad,

really Topo Souris, why didn’t you come back home?” Tears started to form in Mousey’s eyes. “Why did you… abandon us?”

“Mousefred…” Nycht said, a sad look claiming his face. “I had a chance to make something more of myself, more than just a mouse… please understand…”

“Oh, so it was all about you?” Mousey yelled. “You left so that you could be… more than us?” He felt a burning rage build inside of him, one far worse than he could recall ever feeling before. He was so betrayed, abandoned by his own father, who left his mother to take care of all 27 pups by herself. Mousey’s paws balled up into fists, and he fought back the urge to set Nycht on fire.

“Mousefred!” Nycht snapped. His brow was furrowed in his own rage, repaying anger with anger. “Watch your tone, pup!”

Mousey cowered from Nycht as the lieutenant approached him again.

Nycht drew close to Mousey and grasped his wrist so tight Mousey could swear the bones inside were grinding together. “If you’ll just listen to me you’ll see that all I’ve done was for you. You selfish pup! Look past your own problems for just a second and think about it!”

But before Nycht could offer an explanation for his actions, there was a flash of green, and Nycht tumbled away from Mousey.

Sir Ranae pinned Nycht to the ground, drew his sword, and held it to his neck. “Don’t you dare touch him, fiend!”

“Stop him, or you will surely regret it,” Sopher whispered in Mousey’s thoughts.

“Sir Ranae!” Mousey yelled.

“Look away, my friend,” croaked Sir Ranae. “I shall dispatch this knave shortly.”

Mousey ran over and pulled on Sir Ranae’s sleeve. “Please, don’t! He’s my Dad!”

Sir Ranae gave Mousey a questioning look. “Your father? Oh… oh, dear… Mousey…”

Sopher’s spirit appeared beside Sir Ranae and Mousey. Nycht stared up at her with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open. “Nycht,” she said. “Do you swear never to hurt Mousey or his family

ever again?”

“Yes!” Nycht said, pulling his neck away from Sir Ranae’s blade as far as he could. “Yes, I swear! I shall never hurt Mousey or Xandra again!”

Mousey looked at Sopher, then sighed and nodded. “Good. Sir Ranae, please let him go.”

Sir Ranae pulled his blade away from Nycht’s throat and brought him back up to his feet. “Be grateful your boy’s such a saint,” he croaked, then turned Nycht around and kicked him in the rear. “Now, get out of here!”

Nycht stumbled a bit, then started to run, then took off in flight.

Mousey watched the lieutenant disappear into the night sky. Was he truly his father? Why else would he have spared Mousey? Then again, it could just as easily be some sort of trick, or a game Queen Felicia was playing. Mousey wasn’t sure what to think.

But he didn’t have long to think about it, as Sir Ranae said, “The Toad King’s army is out looking for me, and the Toad King is with them. Let’s hurry and cure your mother so we can get out of here!”

Mousey nodded. “Right. Right.”

The three of them hurried back over to the campfire, and Sir Ranae laid out the ingredients on a cloth.

Mousey looked up at Sopher and asked, “How do I do this?”