Starbasin

Rhizo forced himself to face the predator. His body still shook from fear. “I’m here to ask you to leave this place.”

“I’m impressed you have enough wits to speak.” The weasel laughed at the rabbit standing in defiance before him. “Your language was difficult to learn. Saved my life a few times when a warren didn’t realize I was listening to them. I don’t need to hear you beg. Understand, if you start begging, I will kill you before you finish.”

“You were supposed to kill a kit and die in the process.” Rhizome almost sounded sure of himself. “Please leave Brambledeep.”

“Is that a threat?” The weasel skittered up to the rabbit, rearing up in front of him. “If I was supposed to die, are you saying you saved my life?”

“What? No.” Rhizo shook his head. He shivered, and realized he had nothing to offer the weasel. Except… “I’m offering my life if you give me your word that you’ll leave the warren.”

“What’s to stop me from eating you, then killing more rabbits?”

Rhizo closed his eyes and turned his head away. “I will trust your word.”

“My word?” The weasel almost spit out his response. “What does a long-ear know of a weasel’s word? Aren’t we all liars and cheats?”

“Of course not.” Rhizo tried desperately not to let any worry into his voice. “Surely one sacrifice is enough, no matter your word.”

“My word is good,” the weasel insisted. He studied Rhizome’s expression, shifting to the rabbit’s left and right side. “I’ve never given my word to a long-ear. How can you believe me?”

Rhizo had already faced death; this was just borrowed time. It wasn’t much, but it was something worthwhile he could tell Erebus about. “Give your word. I will not resist.”

The weasel circled the rabbit. He sniffed the air, then the rabbit’s fur. “You had very tasty blood. Why not just wait in the warren until I claimed someone else?”

That word, tasty, used to describe the best and most succulent plants, sent shivers down Rhizome’s spine. He held himself still, let the fear paralyze his body instead of make him flee. Somehow he found his voice. “Have you never done something for another?”

“I grant death. Hardly a gift that’s wished for.” The weasel lifted Rhizome’s chin with the back of his forepaw. Once again, he studied the rabbit’s eyes. “Your life for my word. A pact one might make for family, but I am your enemy.”

“I don’t believe in enemies.” The rest caught in his throat. Rhizo closed his eyes and tilted his head back. His heart pounded. Perhaps it would burst before the weasel could kill him. “You were hungry. Please, take my life. Let it be enough so you can leave the warren in peace.”

The weasel brought his paw up to tear out Rhizo’s throat. Time stood still in anticipation of a strike that never came. “This is a trick. You smell like herbs. You’ve taken something that will make me sick when I eat you.”

Rhizo tensed, the audacity of the accusation took him by surprise. “No. The healer made sure I didn’t bleed to death, that’s all. It’s only healing herbs for that.”

The weasel walked around Rhizome again. He sniffed Rhizome’s fur, trying to confirm the story. “You’re a plague carrier and the warren didn’t know if I ate enough of you to get sick.”

“No trick.” Rhizome pleaded, “My life for the warren. Take it and go.”

“There is no agreement! No rabbit is this noble.” The weasel walked away and sniffed at the ground. “There will be a fresh trail from you. I’ll follow that back, and take whoever I find.”

His fear forgotten, Rhizo hopped in front of the weasel. “If you go back, they’ll kill you.” His mind searched for a reason to add. “There’s an ambush waiting for you. The largest rabbits of the warren followed me. They know how to fight; they’ll tear you apart. Take the easy meal!”

The weasel paused, then pushed around Rhizome. “You’re a poor liar. Why is it so important? It’s just one rabbit, maybe two. You’ve lost that many before. Your lives aren’t worth much.”

Once Rhizome started, the emotion would not be contained. “I changed Stargazer’s vision. I was supposed to bolt, not stamp. The black rabbit was there for Whitepaw but I thought he was there for me. I didn’t realize what was happening. It’s all my fault and anyone you kill will be as if I did it myself. I will go with you. If I’ve been given poison, it will be out of my body soon. If this is an ambush, you can kill me far from the warren. If you think I’m sick, you’ll see signs. You will be safe and I will be yours.”

It is said that some weasels, like a snake, can transfix a rabbit with their gaze. In fact, some weasels have been known to use that trick on snakes. This weasel stared, mouth agape, roles reversed in a mockery of those scenes. He had finally seen in the rabbits eyes the one thing he could not explain. Utter honesty. The rabbit believed his words.

“You’re mad.” The weasel shook his head, defeated. “I must be mad too.”

Rhizome bowed his head. “Your word. Please.”

“I will leave your warren in peace. You have my word.” With a sigh, the weasel demanded, “What is your name? I would know the name of one who bested me.”

This time, it was harder finding his voice. Death was close. “Rhizome.”

“My name is Eitan but you will not live long enough to need it.” The weasel turned to leave. “Stick close and don’t you dare run.”

Rhizo shook his head. It took a few moments before the realization he was not going to die reached him. He spoke to no one in particular, “Death should not play such tricks.”

Numbly, he hopped after Eitan.

In the darkness, no one in particular answered, “Yet, I believe you will.”