“He once scared off an angry scorpion for me!” squeaked a teary-eyed mouse.

“King Pugsly would’ve died for any one of us. We don’t know exactly what happened several nights ago, but I’ll wager he has died for all of us. What’s done is done. Our king trusted that boy. Now we must trust him.”

“But he’s not the true heir!” a nanny goat bleated.

“No, Nanny, he’s not. But as we’ve said, we don’t have time to find him if he even exists. But we do have someone who knew our king, perhaps better than any of us.” Paco’s voice softened. “Yet, unlike us, he was never able to talk to him.”

Roscoe raised his head high. “I believe in King Benjamin. And I will follow him to kill the snake, Farangis!”

The animals around him looked surprised. Some laughed. “You really believe the boy will risk his life for us, Paco?” asked a white duck.

“He didn’t seem to take kindly to being called our king,” a hamster peeped.

Paco swallowed any doubt. “When he comes back–”

“If he comes back!” a fox yapped.

“When he comes back today, I need all of you to show your support for him. Time is ticking away, my friends, and we need to make our plans.”

A few mice scurried up to the rat-terrier. “We support you and King Benjamin.”

“Thank you, little friends.”

A beaver couple joined them. “We’ll support you, Paco,” he said. His wife elbowed him. “And King Benjamin.”

More and more animals pledged allegiance—some because of peer pressure, some from fear of Farangis, but most out of respect for King Pugsly. They knew he was closest to the human boy. Perhaps they too hoped to form a special bond with him.

Paco was pleased. “Brothers and sisters, you never cease to amaze me. I’m so proud to be part of this kingdom.” The animals smiled warmly. “Now, who will join King Benjamin, Roscoe, and me on our dangerous mission?” No one made a sound.

“Anyone? Anyone?” Roscoe’s eyes darted at random faces.

Some dogs in the back barked and jumped aside. Then the flock of geese in front of them scattered. “I’ll join you fellas!” The approaching voice carved a path through the crowd until a black pot-bellied pig emerged.

Paco smiled. “Ah, Clementine. It’s nice to see you.”

“I just came in from the Jacobs’s cornfield,” the pig said around his tongue, which was trying to remove a corn kernel stuck in his teeth.

“You did? But how did you reach the corn?” Roscoe asked. All were curious.

“There’s not much to it, goat. I roll onto the stalks and the corn leans down to my face.” He sloppily licked his lips. Roscoe looked disgusted.

“Clementine,” Paco said, “you heard what this is all about?”