"Those prairie dogs, they're not bug-sized like Chipendale, they're regular prairie dogs," Kiara explained, everyone leaning as close as they could within the prison.
"Yes, and?" Atta asked.
"So a flea like P.T. would be awful for them! If he could jump around on their backs, or if he could even round up some more flea friends to harass them, the prairie dogs will go nuts and not want to listen to anything Chipendale says."
"There's a nest of ticks just downstream on the far side of the river! If P.T. could go and talk to them, maybe they'd be convinced to help."
"Why, this gives me an idea," Ratigan realized. "Basil, there must be normal-sized field mice and rats living in the surrounding area, not just prairie dogs. We can do as Chipendale did, and round up our brethren to help us fight the grasshoppers!"
"You're right," Basil said. "It's brilliant. Of course, in order to do that, we need at least to be released from our cells." They both looked to Kady.
Kady wrung his hands for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, if it's just the two of you, then I think you'll be able to make it off the island without drawing any attention." He reached around behind him under his wing casings and pulled out a key.
"You were planning to help me escape the whole time, weren't you?" Kiara said wonderingly.
"Shut up," he muttered, going to Basil's cage first. "While you two go and recruit some mice to fight with you, I'll try to sneak over to P.T. and tell him his half of the plan. He's so small, I don't think anybody will notice if he hops away."
"Kady, thank you, truly. I know this plan is going to work, it has to." After Ratigan and Basil were freed and had piled up some junk to look like their sleeping forms, the girl and the cicada shared one last lingering look. All three men exited the prison in different directions, disappearing into the shadows.
It was a gray morning. A hot wind rolled across the land, stifling and incessant. The old tree bent and creaked at its baying, green leaves fluttering from its branches prematurely. The ants and circus troupe had been led to the grounds, sitting in organized rows. Grasshoppers stood guard all around them, holding staffs and spears aloft. At the head of the grounds where the offering stone was, an executioner's block had been prepared. Chipendale himself stood ready with an axe carved from walnut shell. Chakira sat a short distance behind in the royal flower throne, a drop of nectar in her hand. The prairie dogs sat on either side of the offering stone, smelling the air.
Kiara, Flik, and Atta were led out of the ant hill and in front of the captive audience, hands bound, a guard minding them each. At the base of the ramp leading up the stone, Flik and Atta were made to wait while Kiara walked up alone.
She stopped some millimeters from the executioner's block, staring at it as the wind swept her hair. Chipendale grinned at her toothily, running a thumb along the edge of his axe. Kiara closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped forward.