Deltora Quest #3: City of the Rats by Emily Rodda Page B

strength.
    There was a huge burst of flame as the beads struck. The light was blinding. Hundreds of rats fell dead, killed by the sudden heat. The horde behind them shrieked, and scattered from the burning bodies. The creatures already in the water scrambled and writhed in terror, leaping towards Lief, Barda, and Jasmine, their long tails switching and coiling. Barda and Jasmine slashed at them, defending Lief and themselves, as Lief threw another handful of beads, and another, moving slowly downstream to lengthen the wall of flame.
    And soon a long sheet of fire burned on the river’s edge. Behind it the plain seethed. But where Lief, Barda, and Jasmine stood, panting and shuddering with relief, there was only rippling water, alive with red, leaping light. Dead rats were swept away by the tide, but no more took their places.
    In a few moments there were splashes up and downstream as the rats began plunging into the river above and below the line of flame. But the distance was too great for them to swim in safety. The swift-running current pulled most of them under before they could reach their prey, and those that remained alive were easily beaten off.
    So the three companions stood together, waist-deep in water, trembling with weariness but safe behind their fiery barricade, as the long, cold hours passed.

    Dawn broke at last. Dull red tinged the sky. Beyond the line of fire a murmuring, scuffling sound arose, like a forest of leaves rustling. Then it was gone, and a great stillness fell over the plain.
    Lief, Barda, and Jasmine waded to the shore. Water streamed from their clothes and hair, hissing as it fell onto the flames of their barricade. They stepped over the flickering embers.
    The rats had gone. Between the river and the smoking remains of the campfire there was nothing but a tangled litter of small bones.
    “They have eaten their own dead,” muttered Barda, looking sick.
    “Of course,” said Jasmine matter-of-factly.
    Shivering with cold, feeling as though his legs were weighed down with stones, Lief began trudging towards the place where they had eaten their food many hours ago. Jasmine and Barda followed him, quiet and watchful. Kree flew overhead, the sound of his beating wings loud in the silent air.
    Little remained around the ashes of the fire except for three patches of brilliant red.
    Lief laughed shortly. “They have left the Ra-Kachar garments and boots,” he said. “They did not like them, it seems. Why would that be?”
    “Perhaps the garments still bear the scent of the fungus from the Hole,” Jasmine suggested. “We can smell nothing — but we do not have the senses of a rat.”
    They looked around at the wreckage. Buckles from the packs, the caps of the water bags, the pipe that blew bubbles of light, a button or two, a few coins, and the flat tin box containing the last of the Water Eaters lay strewn on the hard clay among the bones and cinders. Except for the clothes from Noradz, nothing else had survived the rats’ hunger. Not a crumb of food, a shred of blanket, or a thread of rope.
    “At least we have our lives,” said Barda, shivering in the light dawn breeze. “And we have dry garments to put on. They may not be the garments we would like, but who is to see us here?”
    Wearily they stripped off their wet clothes and pulled on the red suits and boots of the Ra-Kacharz. Then, warm and dry at last, they sat down to talk.
    “The jar of fire beads is almost empty. We will not survive another night on this plain,” said Barda heavily. “We must enter the city now, if we are to enter it at all. These strange garments will give us some protection, since the rats do not like them. And we still have the pipe that blows bubbles of light. If it works as we were told, it may be of use.”
    They bundled up their wet clothes, collected their few remaining possessions from the ground, and began to walk towards the city.
    Lief’s eyes prickled with weariness, and his feet dragged in the