The Royal Rabbits of London by Santa Montefiore

The Royal Rabbits of London by Santa Montefiore

Author:Santa Montefiore [Montefiore, Simon Sebag and Montefiore, Santa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster UK


‘Halt!’ cried Zeno and the Thumpers stopped marching. Zeno punched the air with his paw in jubilation. ‘You truly are monsters!’ he shouted to his Thumpers. ‘Look how quickly the cowardly Ratzis ran away!’

Shylo felt an uneasiness in his belly. The kind of worry that starts at the paws, climbs into the chest and then spreads out until one’s whole body is tingling with apprehension. It was the same sort of sickly uneasiness that he used to feel when his siblings played practical jokes on him.

‘Zeno!’ he cried, suddenly realizing that the rats were simply a diversion. But before he had time to get Zeno’s attention something terrible happened.

The whole world was plunged into darkness as a sack was thrown over Shylo’s head. He was pushed to the ground then hauled into the air. Panic gripped him. He squirmed, trying to escape, but the opening of the sack had been tied into a firm knot. He felt himself being carried. The bag swung, making him feel sick. He kicked with his hind legs and burrowed with his front paws, but the sack was too thick and after a while he gave up, sitting in a sorry heap at the bottom. The smell of Ratzi invaded his nostrils. He had no doubt as to who his captors were.

Then he heard voices.

‘We got him!’ croaked a deep Ratzi voice gleefully.

‘I got him!’ came the reply, a female voice this time. ‘You were useless. I’ll make sure Papa Ratzi knows exactly how rubbish you were! He’ll lop off a little more of your tail. And I’ll be famous.’

‘Shut up, Mavis! I’m carrying him now, aren’t I?’

‘Only because I made you, Flintskin, you lazy slob!’

‘He’s not as light as I thought he’d be.’

‘Stop complaining and do your job. We have work to do.’

‘Let’s take him to the Shard. The Doctor will make him talk and then we’ll find out all of the secrets of the Royal Rabbits of London.’ Flintskin laughed. ‘No one survives the chest press!’



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