The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents (Discworld, #28)

by Terry Pratchett

“There’s something new down here,” he said, and suddenly he knew what to say. The words came. “Something that no one’s ever seen before. Something tough. Something strong.” The squad was almost cowering, except for Nourishing, who was staring at Darktan with shining eyes. “Something fearful. Something new. Something sudden,” said Darktan, leaning forward. “And it’s you. All of you. Rats with brains. Rats who can think. Rats who don’t turn and run. Rats who aren’t afraid of dark or fire or noises or traps or poisons. Nothing can stop rats like you, right?” He remembered something else. “You heard about the Dark Wood in the Book? Well, we’re in the Dark Wood now. Oh, yes. There’s something else down there. Something terrible. It hides behind your fear. It thinks it can stop you, and it’s wrong. We’re going to find it and drag it out, and we’re gonna make it wish we’d never been born!

And if we die . . . well”—and he saw them, as one rat, stare at the livid wound across his chest—“death ain’t so bad. Shall I tell you about the Bone Rat? Me and the Bone Rat, we’ve got a little . . . understanding. He waits for those who break and run, who hide, who falter. But if you stare right into his eyes, he’ll give you a nod and pass on.”

“And afterward,” he said quietly, “people will say, ‘They went there, and they did it, and they came back out of the Dark Wood, and this is how they know their own.’”

“Because, you see, you just think for many rats,” he said. “But you don’t think of them. Nor are you, for all that you say, the Big Rat. Every word you utter is a lie. If there is a Big Rat, and I hope there is, it would not talk of war and death. It would be made of the best we could be, not the worst that we are. No, I will not join you, liar in the dark. I prefer our way. We are silly and weak sometimes. But together we are strong. You have plans for rats? Well, I have dreams for them.”

Until these tunnels are ours! Because . . .” Darktan grasped his sword but leaned on it for a moment to catch his breath, and when he spoke next, it was almost in a whisper, “because we’re in the heart of the Dark Wood now, and we’ve found the Dark Wood in our hearts, and . . . for tonight . . . we are something . . . terrible.” He took another breath, and his next words were heard only by the rats closest to him: “And we have nowhere else to go.”