“Who’s going to protect us or keep the order?” a squirrel chattered, scampering up the cavern wall.

The tabby cat sat over the field mouse. “I think his eyes just fluttered.”

Paco and a few others circled the cat and mouse, who were now practically touching noses. The mouse’s eyes flickered as they tried to adjust. Then he clearly saw the cat’s face in his. “AAAAGGHH!!” he yelled, and immediately passed out again.

“Tabitha, get away from him, for crying out loud!” Paco said. “We need him to talk!”

A duck filled its bill with water from the pool in the middle of the room, waddled over to the mouse, and spit a few drops on his face.

“I…I must’ve passed out.” The mouse tried to blink the water out of his eyes.

“Twice. Sorry for startling you, dear,” Tabitha said, keeping her distance.

“Did I see a human boy in this room?”

“You did, but he ran away after you fainted,” Paco said. “Tell us everything you know about what happened to the king.”

All the animals focused on the mouse, who lay on his back looking up at them. “Well,” he gulped, “last night, when the moon was high, I was out in the pasture looking for some water to drink. I came across a small watering hole close to where ol’ Widow Moore’s house was before it was torn down.”

Another field mouse marched through the crowd with two young mice in tow. “What were you doing out there, Edward?”

He ignored his wife. “I was drinking when the grass rustled nearby. I heard foreign talk and knew immediately it was snakes. I was downwind so I sneaked up to listen.” He took a couple of deep breaths. “One of them talked about fulfilling some kind of mission.” He closed his eyes. “I moved in closer. One of them said, ‘The master told us not to attack until the next full moon. That’s when we will kill them all.’ Another voice asked, ‘Will the master join in?’ The other snake said he would be leading the attack.”

Every face was wide-eyed, every ear listening to the mouse. “Once they were far enough away, I went up the path where they had come from. My nose followed a trail of blood through the tall grass. I guessed one of them was badly wounded. Then I came upon…him.” He started to cry. “King Pugsly lay there breathing heavily, badly wounded. ‘Your Majesty,’ I asked, ‘is there any chance of getting help?’ He lay there, exhausted and in pain, looking at me. ‘No,’ he said. I saw the two marks on his chest where he’d been bitten. I had to try to save him, so I stuck my mouth over a hole and began to suck.”

“You tried to suck out the poison?” someone asked.