Free The Island of Whispers by Brendan Gisby Page A

Yes, the plan will work, but
we must go soon, before fear overcomes our resolve.
    His ears
pricked suddenly when he saw old Digger slip into the lair and head
straight for Sharp Claws’ nest. There was a brief, murmured
conversation, and then Sharp Claws left the lair quickly, with
Digger scurrying behind him. Twisted Foot was more alert now. His
three companions had turned to look at him, their eyes searching,
questioning. Something – something important – had caused Digger to
return from the watch. What had happened? Had the giant begun to
glow again? Would this be an end to the plan? He felt dismay.
Anxiety crowded his thoughts.
    ‘ What now, comrade?’ Long Ears whispered to him, but he didn’t
reply.
    It seemed like
an age before Sharp Claws returned. The Chief Watcher was alone,
his expression grim. He marched the length of the lair until he
reached Twisted Foot’s nest. He stared coldly at Twisted Foot and
then at Long Ears.
    ‘ You two,’ he boomed. ‘Come with me. You’re needed for a
special watch.’
    Twisted Foot’s
heart sank, his hopes with it. Before he left the nest, he nuzzled
into Grey Eyes. He sensed her fear.
    ‘ Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back.’
    They followed
Sharp Claws out to the Common lair. Broken Tail waited there with a
group of Protectors.
    ‘ Come with us,’ he growled. ‘The Chamberlain will have words
with you.’
    The Protectors
quickly surrounded the two young Watchers. As the group moved off,
Twisted Foot glanced back in panic. Sharp Claws was returning to
the Watchers’ lair. He looked old and sad, his eyes staring blankly
at the ground. It was then that Twisted Foot realised the full
terror of their predicament.
    Terror had
also set into Long Ears.
    ‘ Oh, no,’ he squealed and began to tremble.
    Twisted Foot
pressed closer to his companion.
    ‘ Stay brave, comrade,’ he whispered, although he knew that his
own courage was rapidly deserting him.
     
    – o –

– Chapter Eighteen –
     
    As if in a
daze, they stumbled along between their captors, passing briskly
through the Protectors’ lair and on into the sanctum of the Rulers.
The guards took them to the centre of the floor and then retreated
to block off the entrance tunnel. Broken Tail remained close behind
the captives.
    Long Snout
squatted opposite the Watchers, glowering fiercely at them. Behind
him, the Inner Circle rats looked out expectantly from their nests,
like avid spectators hungry for sport to commence. On Long Snout’s
right, several Protectors crouched in a half-circle round a pool of
blood. A lifeless, unrecognisable bundle of raw flesh and matted
fur lay in the blood.
    Long Snout
stirred, baring his fangs, directing his words at the Watchers.
    ‘ So,’ he hissed, ‘here are the other brave warriors who wish to
leave our society.’
    The bundle
shifted momentarily. It emitted a gasp of agony. Two glazed,
pain-filled eyes opened, took in the scene and closed again.
    ‘ I’m sorry, comrades,’ the bundle wheezed.
    Long Snout
nodded. A Protector dug into the heaving form at his feet, tearing
away another strip of bloody fur. Narrow Back’s shriek filled the
lair. His body shuddered for some moments and then became still
again.
    A spasm of
fear jerked Long Ears. Urine trickled from beneath him. Twisted
Foot didn’t move. Instead, his eyes fixed on Long Snout, matching
the Chamberlain’s cold glare. He hadn’t killed before – that action
was the exclusive domain of the Hunters and Protectors – but he
could gladly kill now. Hate occupied his thoughts, keeping his own
terror at bay.
    Long Snout
continued.
    ‘ Yes,’ he sneered, ‘your comrade – this pile of dung – has told
us all about your plot. Tonight, the fool came blundering into the
Protectors’ lair. He came through the sacred tunnel. Your escape
tunnel, warriors. As you can see, it was not too difficult to get
him to reveal his secrets.’
    He looked over
to the guards by the tunnel.
    ‘ Get this useless