The Tiger's Egg Read Online Free Page A

glared at him, then stretched her mouth into a smile. “Accidents will happen,” she said. “Julia?”
    â€œThe cloth is where?” said Julia from the gloom.
    â€œHanging from the tap, girl,” said Mrs. Pinchbucket, “and bring two more drinks, chop chop!” She moved to a dry spot on the bar. “Now,” she said to Little, “I don’t believe I got your name, child.”
    Miles stepped down from the stool. “We really have to go now,” he said. “We have some important manure to deliver.”
    â€œThen you must come again,” said Mrs. Pinchbucket, the sweetness in her voice stretchingthin. “Where will you be if we need you? There are always odd jobs in places Fowler is too big to crawl into.”
    â€œI already have a job,” said Miles, but he was interrupted by a squeal of delight from Little. Following her gaze he saw two sleek white rats, like the one on the signboard outside, running along the bar top toward the spilled drink. Before Julia could start to mop it up they had dipped their pink snouts into the sticky puddle and were lapping it up greedily.
    â€œFow-ler!” shouted Mrs. Pinchbucket, her voice once again hard as industrial diamond. “Get in here and box those rats of yours.”
    â€œWhere are they?” said Fowler, shambling in with a plywood box under his arm, the wire-netting door swinging open. He spotted the two rats on the bar. “How the blazes did you get in here?” he said, and slammed the box down heavily on the bar. The rats flinched, but they carried on drinking. “Titus. Larry. Get back in yer box,” said Fowler thickly. The rats ignored him. “Back in yer box,” he wheedled. “Come on, don’t be pigheaded.”
    Miles and Little forgot their hasty departure for a moment, watching the unequal struggle between man and rodent. Little, who could understand allanimal speech, gave a giggle. “You should hear what the rats are saying,” she whispered to Miles.
    Fowler grabbed one of the rats, but it struggled from his grip and managed to bite him in the process. He swore, and sucked his thumb.
    â€œThis way you will not succeed,” said Julia. “You must talk to them. Find out what they want.” Miles and Little exchanged glances.
    â€œWhat do you know about rats?” said Fowler. “I’ve been breedin’ ’em for years, me.”
    Julia said nothing, but she reached under the bar and produced a packet of nuts. She opened it and held a couple of peanuts out on her open hand. The rats paused in their drinking and sniffed, their whiskers twitching.
    â€œI bet you like some of these, don’t you, boys?” said Julia. She did not speak to them in rat language, as Miles had half expected, but her voice was soft and he could see they were listening to her. He wondered why the monkey had chosen to stay with Stranski. “It’s time to return back in your box. Come on, Titus; come, Larry,” said Julia quietly, and she put a handful of nuts in the box. The rats hesitated for just a moment, then trotted inside. Fowler slammed the door and glared at her, as though she had just done him a disservice.
    â€œLet’s go,” whispered Little, and as they stepped out into the alleyway they heard Mrs. Pinchbucket say, “Those nuts will come out of your wages, girl.”

CHAPTER FOUR
SPECIAL DEVILRY
    S transki the Magician, mute and malodorous, plucked the last of his twelve knives from where it quivered in the scarred and painted board by Miles’s left ear. Like most circus performers he was short and compact and looked as though he could be packed away neatly in a large suitcase. His head was shaved bald, and a bushy beard fringed his chin, which had made Little comment the first time she saw him that his head was on upside down.
    An intricate pattern of waxy scars covered Stranski’s arms and throat, a legacy of the