Nightshade City Read Online Free Page A

official decree, signed and certified by the High Minister himself, the beloved Killdeer. Quickly, quickly, gather round!”
    Placing a skeletal paw decisively on Clover’s diminutive shoulder, Billycan pressed his nails into her skin, his prickly claws pinching like thorns. He had a dour feeling about the girl, but continued with his duty.
    Rats ran to the scene, surrounding Clover and Billycan, anxious to hear the decree. Lieutenant Carn directed the onlookers, giving the High Collector space. With the crowd now thick, Billycan began. “I, Billycan, High Collector of Stipend and Commander of the Kill Army, hereby declare Clover Belancort a Chosen One, anointed by Killdeer, High Minister of the Catacombs. Upon consummation of this union, Clover and her family will be released of all Stipend for one year. Upon discovery of offspring believed to be the progeny of the High Minister, the Belancort Clan will be released from Stipend for the duration of Clover Belancort’s life.”
    He turned and addressed Clover. “This is a great honor bestowed upon you, Clover Belancort. Along with this honor, Killdeer sends his wishes of hope, prosperity, and safekeeping for you and the entirety of the Belancort Clan.” He eyed the grandfather. “What little there is left of it, that is.” Billycan chuckled inside as Clover trembled under his grasp. “Do you, Clover Belancort, accept your title as Chosen One, as decreed by myself and the High Minister?” Billycan smiled wryly at the crowd, who looked blankly at Clover’s stone face, waiting for her answer.
    Clover fought her visceral reaction to rip away from Billycan and run for her life, but if she ran, it would be straight to her death. The growing crowd of rats gasped and gawked, awaiting her reply. Clover turned frantically towards her quarters, her eyes darting in all directions in search of the veiled rat. She struggled to move under Billycan’s grip, trying in vain to get the rat in her sights.
    “The silly girl is so very excited she can’t stop fidgeting,” said Billycan. He looked at the crowd with a bogus grin as he firmly pressed down on her shoulder. “I believe we can accept her enthusiasm as a ‘yes’!” The crowd laughed awkwardly, still waiting to hear her reply.
    Playing to the mob, Billycan looked down at Clover with an air of concern. “Oh, Billycan sees what your fuss and muss is about, poor little dear.” He leered at Clover with a patronizing grin. “You would like permission from your poor ailing grandfather. What a respectful youngster you are. More of the Catacomb youth would benefit from your example. Look, everyone,” he said, motioning to Clover’s quarters, “our little Chosen One wants approval from her ill grandpapa.” The crowd moved closer to the door, trying to see the sickly old one, resting against the back wall. Billycan called into the room. “Well, good Grandfather Timeron, do you endorse this union? Is the High Minister an acceptable match for your humble granddaughter?”
    Clover’s eyes widened in panic. She spoke smartly. “You’ll have to excuse him, Collector. His speech has been destroyed by his malady. His throat is malformed, corroded by disease. He is mute.”
    “Of no matter,” said Billycan. He toyed with her cruelly. “He can give us a motion, a wave of his crippled paw, perhaps a nod of his stately chin. That will do.”
    The masked rat steadily leaned forward, revealing a long, blackened snout with grizzled whiskers peeking out from his grimy cloak. The ominous figure held up a cragged paw, the color of tar, with thick purplish claws. Bushy, unkempt fur poked out from the edges of his sleeve. With a shaky digit, he pointed to the decree, still dangling from Billycan’s bony fist. The old rat’s head swiveled towards Clover. With a feeble nod, he confirmed his approval.
    “He agrees!” shouted Billycan in an exaggerated ballyhoo tenor.
    Applause filled the Catacombs. Well-wishers gathered round Clover,