Shaun and Warren reached the door that was still wedged shut with the stout wooden beam. There was the repeated thudding of heavy impacts and the door was quivering with each sound. Shaun rushed forward, pushing the rafter aside. As soon as the door was unobstructed it burst open. Bracken, face a mask of anger, fists bloodied, was standing in the tunnel, his chest heaving. Behind him, Shaun and Warren could see two further rats lying on the floor in obvious trouble. Shaun hesitated a moment before reporting to his captain.
"Bracken, the Mice are trying to destroy the colony. Justin wants you in the machine house now."
Bracken's eyes fixed on Warren.
"He's helping us now," Shaun hastened to add.
With a snarl, Bracken charged up the corridor in the direction of the machine house. Left alone, Shaun and Warren hurried into the room to help however they could.
Timothy entered the dimly lit library. He could still see a dying lantern in his study. Bounding through the door he looked as his desk. His heart sank when he saw the book was gone. The tinted glasses too, though the other set of normal spectacles were there. Automatically, not thinking, he returned them to the case. He was too late, he thought. Too late. He closed the glasses case bitterly. If only he had stopped for moment to think, to hide the book. The regret quickly turned to fear. He now had to hurry back to his family, and the tunnels may still be dangerous despite the Home Guard. If he could just get back to the entranceway, there would be rats there. Then he would be safe.
He scurried back out into the corridor, wondering whether he should go to the entranceway, or Justin's quarters. His thoughts were interrupted as a hand seized his face.
The little mouse struggled and tried to cry out but to no avail. He was held firm and his cries muffled.
"Sssssshhhhhh!" Fraus hissed into his ear. "No shouting now. There's a good boy!" Timothy felt the point of a blade on his cheek.
"Ah, what's this?" Fraus had noticed the chain about Timothy's neck. Timothy could feel Fraus tugging on the chain, and the Stone. Whilst distracted, Timothy seized an opportunity. He stopped struggling and instead bit into the hand over his face. Fraus snarled and released his grip. Timothy darted away, closely followed by Fraus. Timothy did not know where he was heading; he just had to try and get away from the mouse behind him.
Bracken arrived on a scene of mayhem. He had used the middle access tunnel that was around halfway down the colony's depth. On the way had encountered a group of guardsrats who were heading to the machine house, as well as James heading in the other direction carrying an unconscious mouse out of the tunnel. After a quick exchange of information Brakcen had hurried on, but it had not prepared him for this. The damage that had been done was unbelievable. He heard similar gasps from the rats behind him.
Bracken could also see the water was rising. There was little time to waste and he rounded on his companions.
"You two, get back to the living quarters and begin evacuating the colony, the lowest levels first. Chester, get Hugo out of his cell, he'll be underwater soon. You two with me... The rest of you, check all the lowest levels, make sure there's no one down there."
The various rats ran back along the tunnel towards the entranceway, still shaken by the sight of the wrecked machine house.
"What are we going to do, Captain?" asked a young guard.
"We are going to do what we can," replied Bracken.
They hurried down the still intact gantries, towards the bottom of the colony. The water was rising quickly. They saw Kate on the last platform not yet submerged. She was looking anxiously at the lowest access tunnel, a thick rope tied to a nearby supporting beam led into the tunnel, pulled taught. Kate looked up at Bracken's approach.
"Justin's in there. He's trying to throw the lever to collapse the access tunnel, to stop the flow of water to the colony. But the water! It's nearly flooded the tunnel!"
"How long has been in there?" asked Bracken, though before Kate could reply there was a distorted voice from the tunnel.
"Not long enough!"
Justin appeared from the shadows, hauling himself along with the rope, half wading, half swimming against the strong flow of water into the tunnel.
"It's jammed solid! We'll have to evacuate the colony!" Justin was panting, trying to get his breath back as Bracken hauled him from the water. The leader of the rats sat on the edge of the platform and began to alter the length of the rope that was tied about his waist.
"It's already underway, Justin," Bracken assured him. Justin, in response nodded.
"Take care of the situation, will you?" he said. Bracken didn't like the grim tone of Justin's voice.
"Why...? Justin...!"
But Justin had ducked back into the tunnel, wading into the water without another word. With the water's flow helping him on his way, he was gone in an instant. Bracken straightened up. He had been given an order and he had to follow it.
"Come on! Let's see what else we can do. Kate, stay here as long as you can, in case he comes back! If he does, I want to know. Don't go down that tunnel for any reason!"
Kate nodded. The others started off back up the ladders. Bracken's mind raced. They would likely have to collapse the two other access tunnels. It would mean the loss of the machine house, but it would stop the water flooding any more of the colony. They could do without the machine house, but they couldn't do without their homes. But could they do anything else here?
Bracken was relieved to be greeted by Arthur's voice as he neared the middle access tunnel's entrance. The short brown rat was leaning over the railing, watching Bracken's approach.
"Bracken! Get up here!" shouted the engineer.
Bracken leaped up the last steps and saw Arthur standing amongst a couple of guardsrats. There was also Chester, holding a sword against Hugo's back.
"What's he doing here?" the Captain asked.
"I didn't know where else to take him. Better somewhere we can keep an eye on him, I'd say."
"All right..." began Bracken, then all rats turned.
There was a groan from the other side of the machine house. The wall where the water wheels had once been cracked and with a mighty rush of water the another water flue gave way. Parts of the wall hurtled down to splash into the water below, more fluid pouring forth form the ruined chute. A lot more. Bracken's mind went to Justin, muttering,
"We could use another miracle from that Stone about now!"
Justin held the rope tightly as it went taught, just a little further on from the lever than would have been comfortable. Reaching out he grabbed the handle and pulled at it. It wouldn't budge. He wrenched at it, even bracing himself against the wall as he heaved, teeth gritted, using all his might to throw the switch. It began to move, suddenly giving slightly, making Justin slip into the water. With the help of the rope he righted himself, shaking his head to clear his eyes of water.
"Arthur!" he said, taking hold of the lever and pulling himself closer. "There are going to be changes in priority of routine maintenance checks!"
There was a roar from down the tunnel and Justin became aware of a breeze. There was something ominous about the noise. He gripped the lever in both hands, feeling that this was a sensible option. The water about his chest swelled with a wave that reached his neck. Looking down the tunnel, the skin about his eyes tightening, he took a deep breath. Then the second wave hit him. Water poured into the tunnel, roaring along, engulfing the rat. Justin held onto the lever for all he was worth, the rope digging into the flesh of his sides. He couldn't allow himself to be carried away, not without collapsing the tunnel first. He felt the rope go slack and a sudden pain in his arms meant he they were now bearing all the strain. The flow of water pulled at him, trying to drag him away, but Justin tightened his grip. A moment later the lever lurched again, just a bit. Justin's lungs burned, his shoulders ached, but he held on. I must throw it completely, I must...
The lever gave again, and the angle was such that Justin couldn't hold on any longer. He was swept away, being carried with the flow of water into the lowest levels of the colony. Behind him, the tunnel collapsed in on itself.
Mrs Brisby looked back and forth across the throng of creatures in the entranceway. She searched the crowds, looking for Brutus and Timothy. She felt panic welling in her stomach as time passed and there was no sign of the guardsrat or her son.
Meanwhile the rest of the Brisby family had observed that the other guards had not been idle. The order to begin evacuating the colony had filtered through the ranks of the Home Guard and slowly the inhabitants of Thorn Valley were being brought up to the top floors of the colony. Groups of rats were huddled about, the various landings of the entranceway. Guards were standing around looking watchful, trying to control the situation. Young children cried and distraught parents tried to comfort them. The rat named Raymond was in conversation with another guard nearby. As the other rat darted off, Raymond turned and explained the situation to the Brisby family.
"We were ordered to evacuate the lower levels, though it seems the water has stopped flowing into the colony for the moment, therefore we're keeping everyone here. It would be better if we don't have to go to the surface after dark. It's too dangerous we couldn't protect everyone."
"What's happening in the machine house?" asked Martin.
"I don't know. Apparently Justin and Bracken are in there."
"Can any of these guards be spared to look for Timothy?" asked Mrs. Brisby. Raymond wore a look of genuine regret as he said, "I will go and see, Mrs. Brisby. I will make sure that..."
He broke off. All chatter stopped, the entranceway falling silent as a tremor shook the ground beneath their feet.
Fraus entered the council chamber, shutting the side door behind him. There were a few lanterns dotted about the hall providing dim illumination. It was enough. He had seen Timothy scurry in here, and he would find him.
"Timothy!" he grated, peering into the gloom of the council chamber.
Timothy rested in his hiding place clutching his chest. He could not run any further, not without a rest. Trying to breathe silently he listened as Fraus crept around the council chamber. He was checking the other doors, kicking at chairs, being very thorough. Timothy looked down at the Stone. It gave off no light now. Gulping down more air he realised he couldn't stay here. He had to try and get away.
A tremor shook the entire hall. It caught Timothy by surprise and in his exhausted state he tumbled out from behind one of the council chairs with a gasp.
Fraus was at the side door, hand braced against it to steady himself. However he heard timothy's cry and their eyes locked.
Timothy's mind raced. If he was fast enough he would make for the main entrance and be through the door before Fraus could stop him. If he could reach a guard, hiding wouldn't matter.
Timothy took a deep breath and scrabbled to his feet, and began a mad dash for the door. He heard a snarl and Fraus was behind him bounding along, hook held ready. Timothy slid to a halt as he reached the main doors and pulled the handle with all his might. Slowly it began to open. A moment later his hope of escape fled as Fraus barged into the door, closing it again. He looked down at Timothy and Timothy stared back into hungry, insane eyes. The little mouse backed away, falling over in his haste while Fraus advanced slowly, but not as if to attack.
"Timothy! Wait..."
Fraus stopped and lowered the blade, pointing it off into the empty chamber. Timothy just watched the other mouse, trying to raise himself from the floor, but his arms were weak and his body drained of energy.
"Please, Timothy," Fraus went on. "Help me. I do not covet the Stone. It is yours, and I do not wish to take it from you. I want what it can do. I want to use it to try and return something very dear to me. Much as your father was taken from you before his time, so my beloved was snatched away. I'm asking you Timothy, no begging you. As a fellow NIMH-born... Please. Help me..."
Timothy hesitated for a moment. He could almost believe Fraus. He would never be able to trust this mouse but he thought that for once, Fraus was telling the truth. It was during this hesitation that Fraus struck. The lunge was so sudden, the movements so quick, almost frenzied, that Timothy had no chance to run. He tried but Fraus was on him, hand around the chain, actually lifting Timmy off the ground. The dark furred mouse's eyes had changed again. Now they were filled with a madness unleashed, a wild gaze locked onto the crimson Stone. Timothy struggled, kicking out and striking his assailant, but could not do anything to stop the older, larger mouse. The chain on the amulet broke and Timothy fell to the ground, sprawling onto the cold tiles though he quickly raised his head to look up at the other mouse. Fraus was holding the Stone aloft, gazing at it grinning like a maniac. He turned it this was and that, looking into its crimson depths.
"Beautiful," he said.
"Give it back!" cried Timmy, springing to his feet and pouncing at Fraus and the Stone that he held. Fraus looked to Timothy, having apparently forgotten about him, and with a smooth movement sent Timothy crashing into the wall. Timothy squealed and fell, wincing, clutching his shoulder, tears forming not only from the pain, but from the frustration. Fraus looked down with mock benevolence.
"Patience, boy. You don't want to miss this," he grinned, and hefted the Stone again. He gripped it tightly then thrust it out in front of him. Timothy looked on helpless, wondering what would happen. Fraus blinked. He squeezed the Stone, straining with the effort. The Stone remained inanimate.
"Why isn't anything happening?" said Fraus, his voice a disbelieving whisper. The grin had faded. Timothy thought the mouse looked like a child who had just lost a favourite toy. This changed as Fraus once again turned on Timothy. His words came as a roar and spit flew from his mouth with each word:
"How do you make it work!? Tell me boy, or I promise that your family will be made to suffer terribly!"
As Fraus said these words he felt a pulse of warmth from his hand. He turned his attention back to the Stone and in reply it pulsed with a deep, red light. Fraus' face twisted into a rictus of unhinged glee. As he watched the glow became stronger, swirling into a corona around the amulet and then this too grew and expanded. Fraus twisted looking down at his body as the ethereal light engulfed him. Timothy had forgotten about the pain in his arm. He did not even think to run. He was captivated by the sight in front of him; both amazed and terrified by it. Fraus' whole body was now smothered in a blood red aura. Fraus looked once again to Timothy, and the little mouse stared back into the dreadful eyes, bright, burning crimson now, like further versions of the Stone, glowing in the gloom. How could his father do this? Why would he create the Stone knowing there was the possibility of a creature such as this, one so completely consumed with hate, using its powers to destroy? Why give the Stone the power to unbind the evil within a heart as well as the good? Then Timmy realised his father had not meant it to fall into the clutches of evil, had actually strived to keep it safe from the likes of Jenner and Fraus. Timmy had allowed that. He had been selfish, wishing to hold onto the amulet when it would have been safer with any of the others. He could have asked Martin or Justin to look after it, but he hadn't. He'd wanted to keep it. It had been his decision and his alone. He wished bitterly he had made a different choice, but such wishes are always made in vain. Now it was too late. His father had known the Stone's power, though potent, was blind. Now it was in the clutches of a creature consumed by hate, and it would doom them all.
He was bought out of his laments by a sound. It was coarse, and grating. He quickly realised Fraus was laughing, though the word hardly seemed applicable to such an atrocious sound. It stopped suddenly and Fraus looked about the hall as if seeing the room for the first time. As he did the unlit lanterns in the room pulsed. Fraus laughed again, sweeping his hands around. As he did so Lanterns sprang to life, burning with such an intensity that Timothy had to look away. Fraus balled a fist and blood red flames sprang up around it. Still grinning the mouse spoke, though his voice had changed. The words came with sinister sub-harmonics:
"Fear me, for now I am the embodiment of retribution! A dark angel of reckoning..." He gazed at the Stone and began to laugh again his head thrown back, his whole body shaking.
Then there was a subtle variation in the atmosphere. The lanterns pulsed again, flickering slightly and turning red. Fraus' malevolent rictus had not changed but the eyes that were once intense and menacing were now glazed and panicked. Then the tone of the laugh changed. It was gloating no longer. Fraus was screaming!
He dropped the stone but the crimson aura did not leave him. Instead it swirled around him with a renewed vigour, the red of the lanterns surging forth, joining with Fraus' aura, lending their own power, coalescing into a black mass that engulfed Fraus' core, seeming to sink into his chest and shroud his black heart in its darkness. Fraus clutched at his chest, tore at his own body. All the while Timothy watched, still rooted to the spot in horror. He looked on as Fraus staggered and fell, no air left in his lungs to scream. He still pawed at his chest, back arched away from the floor, bloodshot eyes wide, frothing at the mouth. Then there was a sound, so deep and loud it was felt, not heard; yet Timothy's hands shot to his ears and he began to curl into as small a shape as he could manage. Fraus had gone very still and in another burst of golden incandescent light everything became silent and was motionless once again.
Timothy had covered his eyes against the last of the Stone's radiance and when he looked again all the lanterns were now dead and the room was in darkness, except for a small pool of red light around the Stone. Timothy could still hear ragged breath in the room and the soft rustle of movement. There was also the stench of burnt fur. Timothy slowly, with infinite caution, crept forward and reached out towards the Stone, thinking he would just grab it and run.
His hand neared the amulet and he looped his fingers around the broken chain, just as another hand shot from the darkness and grabbed his wrist. He did not hesitate to think, but simply clawed the hand that held him, wrenching his own had away. There was a whimpered cry and Timothy was released almost immediately. As Timothy scrabbled at the main doors, clutching the Stone close to his chest, he tried to work saliva into his mouth. His hands, fingers and his wrist where he had been held were slick with blood and the little mouse was also followed into the antechamber by that same pungent, burnt smell. He was however not in the slightest bit curious as to what he had left in the darkness and threw open the outer door to the entranceway. There, blinded by the light, he squirmed as hands held his arms.
"Timothy! Calm down it's me..."
"Brutus?" Timothy whispered and said no more as he fell unconscious.
"Is there anything we can do?" Bracken asked the chief engineer. Arthur spoke quickly, but he was collected, keeping his calm.
"I've sent a crew up to the dam system. They'll see if they can divert the water flow. It may take a while though. Anything we can do here to help would be a real bonus."
"Should we destroy the other access tunnels? Save the rest of the colony?"
"Not yet..." Arthur was deep in thought. He had felt the lower access tunnel collapse, and knew it had bought them some time. During the silence Bracken was acutely aware of the water level rising alarmingly. However he held his tongue, letting the engineer think. Eventually Arthur spoke.
"Not all the water flues seem to be damaged. It looks like the scaffold and water wheel assemblies took the brunt of the blast. If someone can get to the gate controls we may be able to slow the water flow. It may be enough for the others to stop the water coming in from the outside through the wrecked chutes."
Bracken looked at the wheels that worked the flue gates. They were mounted high on the wall, surrounded by the remnants of the ruined gantry and the water wheel gearing.
"But how do we get up there?" he asked.
He became aware of movement, and Hugo dived past him. Chester cried out.
"He's escaping!"
Hugo stopped at the platform railing, and leapt, grabbing a piece of the scaffold that was still intact. Carefully, though with haste, he began to climb the broken beams and timbers of the gantry. Bracken made to follow the other rat but Arthur stopped him, placing an arm across Bracken's wide chest.
"Look at the scaffold! It'll barely support him alone. If you go as well, it will probably bring the whole lot down!"
Bracken clenched his fists, watching Hugo climb higher and higher.
"What's he doing?" asked Chester.
"He's going for the gate controls," said Bracken shaking his head.
Hugo gripped a beam tightly as everything he stood on shook alarmingly. He looked up at his goal. The gate controls had a damaged platform just below them. If he could reach that, he was sure he would be able to work any of the controls. He swung and hopped from one beam to the next. A burning support gave way at one point, making him slip. As he fell he grabbed the beam, hugging it, steadying his nerve. With a visible effort he pulled himself back up on top of the beam. Checking his path, he climbed on. He couldn't back out now. He remembered his mother's words. He would redeem himself and his family even if it cost him his life. To go back would mean punishment by the council and alienation of his family. Compared to that, death lost its sting.
He landed on a still intact platform and jogged to the other end. There was one more gap to cross. A stream of water shot close by, the spray drenching him. Blinking water from his eyes he analysed the situation. Half the bridge from where he was to the control platform was missing. It was a large, but not impossible jump. He took a slow step back, his foot resting on the very edge of the landing. Crouching slightly he tensed... then ran. There was space for only two steps, but he gained a lot of speed and leapt, pushing off on the edge of the gantry. He sailed through the air, stretching out his arms as he watched the other platform loom up before him. As the energy of the leap dissipated he began to descend, landing on the shattered bridge. With a sickening slowness and tearing of wooden fibres it began to break away. As the bridge swung slowly towards the vertical Hugo scrabbled towards the control platform, trying to get off the bridge before it fell. He was pulling himself up using the edge of the platform when what remained of the bridge disappeared from beneath him. Grimacing, he made the last effort to haul himself up to the relative safety of the platform. He rolled onto the firm surface, lying for a moment, panting.
"He's done it!" said Arthur with an air of awe. Bracken nodded. It was an impressive climb. They watched as the distant Hugo stood and began to inspect the control wheels, trying to work out which way to turn them to shut the water off. He gripped the wheel and wrenched it around. Once done with that one he moved to the next. Slowly, one by one the flow of water from the chutes slackened.
By the time Hugo had finished five of the flues stopped disgorging water entirely. Two seemed partially blocked, but the flow was greatly reduced. There was no effect eighth heavily damaged one.
"It's still coming," said Bracken sounding crestfallen.
"But it's a lot less now," pointed out Arthur. "I think he's done enough. I'll get another crew together and we can start trying to plug the gaps, make it safe to clean up this mess."
At that moment Kate came bounding up the stairs, dripping wet.
"Bracken, the bottom tunnel has collapsed. Justin managed to throw the lever, but... I can't find him."
Bracken clenched his jaw, and was about to reply when there was another rumble that shook the valley...
With a crash of collapsing stone another section of the wall gave way. One of the partially blocked flues opened up, and with the pieces of wall went some of the remaining scaffold. Hugo could see what was going to happen and leapt away as the beam he had been standing on plummeted into the swirling waters below. He landed and held onto a new support, his legs flailing, desperately trying to find purchase. There was a wrenching sound, a splintering of wood, and Hugo's heart sank. A nearby beam, flames still licking its surface, swung down, striking him on the face and chest and shattering the weakened support he clung to. He cried out in agony, seeming to hang in the air for a moment, before plummeting downwards. Another piece of gantry slowed his decent and he slammed into it, his shoulder breaking in the sickening impact. He did not cry out that time as he plunged into the water. A moment later Bracken dived in after him.
Spiro found himself in the gallery of the council chamber. His movements had been very peculiar in an effort to avoid rats. It was very dark in the council chamber, all lanterns having been extinguished. Just how he liked it.
Vaulting over the railings he dropped down to the speaker's floor below. He landed in a crouch, his cape settling about him. He stayed bowed low, listening. There was something else in the room with him to his right. The only illumination was a thin strip of light showing through the slightly open main doors, but that was not enough to make out what it was that occupied the hall's floor.
Creeping slowly along the wall he reached the main doors of the council chamber. Spiro could smell something now as well. It was a raw, burnt smell. A rasping whisper made him stop stock still.
"Spiro!"
In the gloom and up close, Spiro saw what had spoken. Fraus' hook was the only indication that it was once his leader, and even this was scorched and warped as if from a great heat. Spiro was incapable of revulsion or shock, but he could still acknowledge that whatever happened to Fraus was quite appalling. He was about to move away when another whisper stopped him.
"Spiro! Don't leave me... like this!"
The voice was cracked and raw; Spiro could see the thing holding out a twisted claw in plea. He looked down at what had once been Fraus. Spiro was also incapable of pity, but nevertheless he arrived at a decision. Reaching into his cloak, Spiro drew out a blade.
Timothy slowly came around and through bleary vision he could make out the ceiling of the entranceway. The sounds of nervous chatter were all around him. Moving his head and blinking, he looked up into the faces of his family. His mother smiled down at him.
"Hi, Mum," he mumbled.
"Oh, Timothy!" Mrs. Brisby hugged him, and he hugged her back. As he did his hand squeezed the Stone. He still had it. It was safe.
"What happened?" Mrs. Brisby asked, her voice muffled as she pressed her head onto her son's shoulder. Timothy pulled away slightly to explain.
"The Stone... it saved me. It did something to Fraus."
"Where is he?" asked Brutus who was looming nearby. He paused in his conversation with two other guards.
"Back in the council chamber," said Timothy with a nod, then added, "What's left of him."
Brutus turned to his companions, one of whom arched an eyebrow. The two set off at a jog towards the great doors at the far end of the entranceway. Timothy watched them go then asked,
"What about the rest of the mice?"
"We don't know," said Martin. "We haven't heard much, but everyone seems to think they might have got away. Apart from one that is."
The family turned and Timothy looked too. Nearby on the landing, tied up and under guard, was Malachi. His head was downcast and he stared resolutely at the floor. There was no fear in his eyes, only the signature melancholy.
Their attention was drawn by a commotion from the machine house access tunnel. Bracken limped from the shadows of the passage, an unpleasant wound in his leg, his fur dripping wet. Hugo was supported between himself and Chester. Carefully they set the young rat down, a medic immediately getting to work on him. Another asked to see to Bracken's leg, but he waved it away, instead the big rat beginning to talk with guards nearby. Brutus immediately jogged over to his captain, but presently returned to the Brisby family with the news. He looked grave.
"Apparently the situation is under control. Hugo managed to shut off most of the water flow, but was injured. Bracken rescued him from of the water, but we don't know how he is yet. Justin managed to collapse the lower access tunnel so the rest of the colony is all right, but... we can't find any trace of him."
"He's all right," said a voice form the central stairway.
The mice, with barely enough time to assimilate Brutus' words, noticed a battered, cut and dripping wet Justin with torn shirt, emerge from the central staircase. They smiled as the rat leant against the wall, his shoulders heaving. He managed a weary grin.
"Justin!" called Brutus grinning, clapping the leader on the back and making Justin wince. "What happened?"
"I... it doesn't matter," Justin replied, waving a hand. "Is the flood under control?"
At the sound of Justin's name a small crowd were gathering about. Arthur was amongst them.
"Certainly is. The water flow has been stopped. Well... as good as. My crew can handle it from now on. It's going to be a state, but it's not going to get worse."
"And there's no more danger to the colony?"
Arthur scoffed at Justin's question.
"I designed this place to last. It will take more than that to bring it down!"
Justin nodded and continued with his questioning.
"What about the mice?"
Another guard waiting nearby spoke up.
"There's one in the antechamber to the council hall. It's Fraus. He's dead. Really dead!"
Justin looked quizzical but did not request other information; the guard did not seem as though they wanted to volunteer it. Instead he asked, "And the others?"
By now Bracken had made his way over, and grinned despite his obvious discomfort.
"We caught one, he's under guard. We know two escaped. We've got rats out tracking them now. Those not accounted for seem to have slipped away. We haven't seen anything of them."
Justin pursed his lips in thought. However he and everyone nearby went quiet as a keening wail cut through the general commotion. Christine had pushed her way through the throng of rats towards her son.
"No! Hugo... Hugo... My child what's happened to you...?" Her voice trailed into sobs as he buried her face in her son's damp and tattered clothes. Justin looked on with a fallen expression.
"What about casualties?" he asked Bracken, not taking his eyes off Christine and Hugo.
The big rat breathed deeply before replying to this.
"Clerval is doing all he can for Hugo. Leander and Katherine are wounded, Leander quite badly. He's already in the infirmary. Richard is in a real state, the medics are doing what they can, but..." Bracken shook his head. "...and Chloe, one of the Artisan's, is dead. We've just recovered her body from the machine house."
Justin sagged at this and slid into a sitting position, resting against a wall. Two more dead. The colony was expanding quickly and was very large now, but it was still small enough that every death was still a very personal tragedy to everyone else. They would be missed. Bracken put a hand on Justin's shoulder.
"It could have been much worse Justin."
"Get back! Stay away from him!"
The group stopped dead in their discussion at the sound of the enraged scream. Christine was still crouched over Hugo, however her face had changed. Replacing the grief was a mask of fury. She held her arms protectively above Hugo and was snarling at Clerval. The doctor held his hands up placating.
"Christine, please. You must step back. I need the light..."
Christine didn't wait to hear Clerval out. She shouted again, all composure gone.
"You all want him to die! You all hate him! But, he isn't Jenner! He didn't deserve this. He did nothing!"
"Christine..." said Clerval, trying to take her hands.
"I said stay back!" she said, lashing out at Clerval. The doctor fell backwards, sprawling onto the floor, his face bleeding.
"Christine!" said Bracken, hobbling over. "You must stop this..."
Christine turned her hateful eyes on the guard captain and snarled, "You're responsible! He was in you charge!"
"He did this himself. He acted for the benefit of the colony. Now let the doctors work."
This seemed to momentarily non-plus Christine. There was a pause before she said, "I want to treat him! I'll care for my boy."
"He's too badly hurt, Christine," Clerval interjected. "Leave it to us."
"I'll not leave him in your hands! I'll not let you all take my boy again."
"Do you want him to die?" said Bracken harshly. The wound in his leg throbbed and he was acutely aware of the mess the colony was still in.
"No..." replied Christine, narrowing her eyes. "But you do..."
"What?" gasped Clerval.
"You all want him dead," Christine continued.
"What are you talking about?" said Bracken irritably.
Christine stroked her son's damp fur. "First Jenner, now you are taking my son!"
"Christine...!" Bracken began.
"You'll leave him in the mud and rain. Just like Jenner. Leave him dying. You want to destroy my whole family," said Christine, sounding far away.
"Don't talk nonsense," barked Bracken dismissively and signalled to some guards. "If you won't let Clerval attend Hugo you are forcing my hand."
"No!" screeched Christine, wild eyed, as two guards approached her.
"This is for Hugo's sake Christine!" said Bracken.
Christine began to screech as the gauds tried to pry her away form Hugo's unconscious body. "You're going to kill him! My boy! Murderers! Murderers!"
"She's hysterical," warned Clerval as he tried to get near Hugo again. Bracken became aware the disturbance was beginning to spread panic amongst the rats and families nearby.
"Hold her," he ordered.
The guards struggled briefly with Christine, but with a frenzied twist she was free of them. With a hiss Christine produced a dagger from her robes, her gaze locked on the Captain of the guard. Before Bracken had even taken in what was happening she had pushed the blade deep into his chest. With a sigh Bracken crumpled backwards, lying brokenly on the floor. The guards stood and stared, dumbfounded.
"No, Christine!" shouted Justin, running forward, signalling Brutus to stay with the Brisby family. Other guardsrats moved in, trying to restrain Christine as she set furious eyes on the mice, locking Mrs. Brisby's gaze.
"Watch out for Hugo! Get him out of here!" shouted Clerval, trying to shield his patient from the melee.
"Murderers!" she screeched. She leapt, knife outstretched. A rat deftly parried the mad lunge of Christine's blade, wrapping powerful limbs about her arm. Christine bit and struggled as the guards tried to hold her back.
"Noooo!" wailed Christine as she saw Hugo being taken up by other rats. She redoubled her efforts to escape the guards' clutches.
"Bracken..." said Justin looking down in disbelief. "Clerval! Get over here!"
No sooner had the words been said before there was another scream and a movement further along the landing. Guards tried to push their way through the crowd as others tried to retreat away from something in their midst.
"What now?" asked Justin, getting to his feet. Brutus shook his head, straining to see over the crowd. It quickly became obvious.
As the groups of rats parted for the guards a small shape could be seen darting between the larger creatures. It was a mouse with a ragged cloak, a dagger in hand, and a clouded dead eye. Spiro glowered back and forth at the assembled families, making occasional lunges at any rat to come too near.
"Stop him! He mustn't get away!" shouted Brutus. Any nearby gurdsrats who weren't occupied with Christine advanced, though were hindered by the movement of others on the crowded walkway. As the guards tightened their formation Spiro leapt, using the natural agility of all mice, augmented by abnormal strength. The rats could not swing weapons for fear of hitting one another and others standing nearby. Spiro landed and ducked beneath a wild lunge from Brutus. Justin, leaping forward, managed to get a hand to Spiro, but the mouse, with a casual efficiency, jabbed a blade through Justin's forearm. As the rat reeled Spiro advanced towards Mrs. Brisby and her family. He stood before Martin, who stared back at the ragged mouse, stunned into inaction. Spiro's cheeks lifted as he gripped Martin's face and pushed young mouse backwards. Martin toppled over, rolling along the ground. Spiro spun and set his eyes on Cynthia. The little mouse was transfixed by the dead eye, and could only stand and tremble. Mrs. Brisby stepped forward but Spiro landed a quick blow to her bandaged midriff, making her double up in pain. The mouse's movements were so fast that none could have hoped to have done more.
As Spiro reached out, his claws nearing Cynthia's throat, Teresa stopped him, grabbing Spiro's arm, wrenching it away. Spiro twisted and before Teresa could react he was holding her tight, an arm wrapped around her neck, a knife pressed against her side.
"No!" screamed Mrs. Brisby, her cry rising above all the other's in the entranceway, even Christine's continued struggles. It was shrill and panicked; fear for her daughter shaking her to her core as she tried to look up through tear filled eyes. The guards stopped where they were, fearful to approach as Spiro looked back and forth, menacing Teresa with the knife. Brutus had picked himself up and Justin looked on, clutching his bleeding arm, both watching Spiro closely. Very slowly, dragging Teresa with him, Spiro began to edge towards the exit to the surface. Rats hefted weapons.
"We can't let you go, Spiro!" someone snarled.
"Release her at once," demanded another.
Spiro's eyes flicked back and forth and then fixed on Teresa. He twirled the Brisby daughter around, making her lose her balance and sending her spinning to the floor, though he held onto her hand. Before anyone could stop him he slowly and deliberately ran his blade along her outstretched arm, drawing blood and a squeal of pain from the young mouse.
"Damn you!" screamed Mrs. Brisby, trying to lunge at Spiro, but Brutus held her back.
"No Mrs. Brisby! Your daughter! If you approached he would do worse."
Mrs. Brisby clutched the thick arm that was around her and watched her daughter's face twist in pain. Tears welled once again in her eyes.
"Monster!" she screamed at the tormentor.
Spiro, his point made, gathered up the whimpering mouse, the knife now held ready to be driven beneath her ribcage. He cocked a scarred eyebrow at the rats.
"Let him pass!" grated Justin, clutching his arm. The guards parted, giving Spiro a clear path to the exit. The mouse took it, now moving swiftly despite his burden. Teresa threw a terrified glance at her mother.
"Justin!" breathed Mrs. Brisby her hands going to her mouth.
"We can't let him go!" said Brutus. Justin groaned as a medic worked on his wounded arm.
"If we try and stop him he'll cut Teresa to shreds..." he stopped, gasping with pain as the medic worked. "He has the upper hand..."
Brutus saw that he had to take over this situation. His leader was in no state to deal with this.
"Let him get into the open," rumbled Brutus under his breath. His eyes followed Spiro's progress as he muttered instruction to his guards. "If he thinks he's free he may release her. We don't need more casualties. In the open I may be able to do more. Down here it's too cramped."
"We'll come too," whispered a young guardsrat. Several others stood ready behind him.
"No. As Justin said, if too many of us go we might provoke him," said Brutus. "See what all of you can do here."
"But..." the young rat began.
"See to the families!"
At Brutus' command the other rats left.
"I hope you're right about this, Brutus," breathed Justin.
"So do I," the guard replied.
Spiro backed out through the entrance tunnel and Brutus followed. The Brisby mice went too. Slowly the standoff was moved to the surface.
Warren climbed the steps, Shaun a few paces behind him. He had done all he could at the infirmary. He got the feeling his presence was resented, and besides, he couldn't work with the rat scaled tools. Therefore he decided to return to the entranceway.
The pair arrived to agitated confusion. Families were still loitering, though the panic seemed to have subsided. Guardsrats seemed to be on top of the situation. The atmosphere was still far from amiable however. Shaun asked a nearby guard what was happening. Meanwhile Warren watched as a struggling rat, her fur damp with tears, was removed forcibly from the entrance hall. Another limp shape was being carried out with a degree of reverence by several other rats. He wondered what had been happening here. Shaun, with a quick glance at Warren, summed up part of what had transpired.
"One of the Mice is escaping. He has one of the Brisby children with him. Brutus and the rest of the family are on the surface. Apparently there has been a lot of trouble."
Fear seeped into Warren's mind. Who was still here? Fraus? Spiro? Whoever it was they had one of the Brisby children. Warren's stomach twisted and he started to run.
"Warren, wait!" shouted Shaun following the mouse, but Warren didn't slow down. He tore around the entranceway landings, dodging between loitering rats, through the doors and sprinted up the tunnel to the surface ignoring shouts of protest from any he passed. As he emerged from the bush that hid the entrance to the colony he felt rain. In the distance was the red and golden glow of dawn, shrouded as it was in clouds. A fine drizzle gave everything a greasy sheen. Warren saw there were fresh prints in the wet ground. He followed the trail up the slope and east, towards the stream that fed into the lake below.
He moved as fast as he could through sodden undergrowth. Silhouettes became visible further up the slope. Hurrying forward Warren found the Brisby family huddled together behind Brutus. The Rat of the Home Guard stood with halberd ready, moving slowly through vegetation towards a nearby shape. Ascending the slope, almost at a rocky outcropping that formed a plateau in the incline, was Spiro and in his arms...
"Teresa..." breathed Warren. As he neared he could see Teresa's face was contorted with pain and terror. He approached the Brisby family. Cynthia was crying, clinging to her mother as was Timothy, Martin stood resolute but visibly shaking with anger, while Mrs. Brisby looked on in numb disbelief. Warren, not taking his eyes from Spiro and Teresa, asked,
"What happened?"
"He jumped us!" said Martin, sparing a disapproving glance for the Mouse of NIMH. "He's taken Teresa. There's nothing the rats can do!"
"What about Fraus?" Warren asked.
"Fraus?" shouted Martin, not entirely understating the pertinence of the question. "It doesn't matter! He's dead!"
"Dead..." whispered Warren. His mind raced as he looked up at the dread form of Spiro. There was only one course of action. Warren turned to Mr. Brisby.
"I'm sorry. If Spiro is alive..." The mouse had reached the outcropping, outlined against the murky sky.
"Who has the Stone?" asked Warren, eyes still averted, gazing up the slope.
"I do..." murmured Timothy.
"Can I have it please, Timothy?"
"Why? What will you...?"
"It's important! Please, Timothy quickly! I might be able to help."
Timothy untucked the Stone from a pocket in his shirt, its broken chain hanging loose. He stared at it a moment, but Warren snatched it away.
"I'm sorry, Timothy," he said. The young mouse stared at Warren, empty hand still outstretched.
"Warren!?" cried Mrs. Brisby turning wide eyes on the mouse.
Instead of answering Warren started up the slope, the Brisby family watching him go.
"Get back here!" roared Martin.
"He can't give the Stone to Spiro... Even if..." Timothy trailed off, his eyes glazed.
Mrs. Brisby shook her head. She wished for nothing more than for Teresa to be back safe amongst her other children, but to hand the Stone over... Anguish, fear and anger, all fought for possession of her body and mind.
"Warren... Wait!" she shouted.
"Warren, you miserable cur!" shouted Martin.
Warren shot a glance over his shoulder. Mrs. Brisby caught nothing in the look, as it was fleeting, but she had a terrible foreboding. Surely Warren would not betray them and take the Stone to Spiro. He may be able to rescue Teresa, but would he doom them all to something worse if Spiro should get the Stone? Brutus was already restraining Martin, stopping the mouse charging up the slope.
"Martin. Stay here!"
"Let me go!" shouted the young mouse.
"No!" shouted Brutus. "Protect your family! Let me handle this."
Martin stared back at the guardsrat, but the authority with which Brutus had spoken was undeniable. Martin nodded. Immediately Brutus began to creep up the slope obviously trying to keep his distance. Within a few moments he had disappeared into the shadowed vegetation.
The ground beneath Warren was slick with moisture, rocks dislodging as he put his weight on them. After scrabbling on hands and knees over the pebbled, muddy ground, Warren was near to Spiro and his captive atop the slope. The rocky plateau ended a little further along, dipping again before commencing the rise up the side of the mountain. There was a spur of rock to the east that hung over the edge of a sheer drop. Beneath Warren could hear the stream, swollen by the rain and waters diverted from the reservoir, thunder by.
Spiro had stopped in the centre of the raised ground, obviously trying to work out what to do next. Warren approached slowly obviously cautious not to make any sudden moves. Teresa looked back at Warren, her eyes wide with fear. Spiro himself was looking all around him. His eye darted back and forth, searching every shadow for any possible threat before it finally settled on Warren. Spiro did not seem to be hostile to Warren's presence, but he did not loosen his grip on Teresa. Looking back into Spiro's eye, Warren became aware of something that he hadn't thought possible. Behind the anger, the raw callousness that was a constant for Spiro, Warren could see the mouse was afraid.
"I've got a deal, Spiro. The girl for the Stone," as Warren said this he took another step closer. Spiro's grip tightened, Teresa letting out a soft whimper.
"You've seen the Stone's power, Spiro. You know what it can do. Take it to the rally point. Meet the others and you can use it..."
Spiro still seemed indecisive. His eye roamed the surroundings again. Importantly his hold on Teresa slackened.
"Take it!" ordered Warren, simultaneously flinging the Stone into the air. Spiro's eye focused on it, his gaze following the amulet's ascent.
You're not a true NIMH-born, are you? thought Warren. He took the opportunity that the simple trick had created and acted quickly. He took a quick step forwards, pulled Spiro's arm aside, dragging Teresa away. Simultaneously he slammed the rock he had picked up during the mad scramble up the slope into Spiro's forehead, right above the dead eye. Nearby the Stone landed with a wet noise in the mud.
As Spiro crumpled onto the ground with a guttural sigh, Warren, without taking his eyes of the fallen mouse, muttered to Teresa, "I'm sorry," and then pushed her down the incline, towards her family. She staggered at first but then managed to regain enough balance to leap down the last of the slope, into waiting arms.
Warren had spared a quick glance to see that Teresa was safe, but then he jumped back as Spiro got to his feet simultaneously making a wild upward slash with his knife. Warren drew his sword and waited, extending its point towards the other mouse. Spiro glared back, blood dripping from his brow. Warren's blow had reopened the scar across his left eye.
The two stood for a moment, watching each other. Then, reaching up, Spiro pulled the scarf away from his mouth. Warren stared at the other mouse's ravaged face. Spiro's lips were horribly scarred with many cuts as if he had been biting wire. A long scar led from the right corner of his mouth and ended at his throat. His face was contorted and twisted with fury, the expression made grotesque by the injuries. His teeth were bared; ruined lips pulled away from yellowed fangs. One of the front incisors was chipped and became a brutal point. The blood dripping from his forehead ran down his nose, onto his teeth and finally dripped off the end of the fang. For a moment Warren was helpless, bound to the spot by the horrific countenance before him. He stared in disbelief and said, almost in a whisper, "NIMH take me... What happened to you?"
Spiro issued a challenge to Warren, a sound that was somewhere between a snarl and a hiss, and drew a second knife, the poisoned blade with the two prongs, from the folds of his cape. Warren tensed, flicking his sword trying desperately not to show that he was too terrified to make the first move. Brutus was now bounding up the slope, halberd ready and levelled at Spiro. The ragged mouse shifted his stance to try and keep all his opponents in sight, his ears swivelling back and forth.
"Give yourself up Spiro," Brutus called as he charged. "We don't want to hurt you, but we cannot let you escape!"
Spiro was still for a second and then, with a knife in each hand, made a frenzied dash at Warren. The other mouse countered as best he could. He knew that Spiro's pronged blade bore the loathsome poison. In his effort to keep that particular blade away, the scalpel blade found its mark. Warren yelped; an open wound on his shoulder. He would have to kill Spiro if he was to survive. He thrust with his blade, driving it towards the trunk of Spiro's body. It sailed wide as Spiro dodged, spinning around and closing on Warren. With another hiss Spiro sunk his teeth into Warren's outstretched sword arm and buried both knives into his chest. Warren screamed, dropping his sword into the mud. With another movement Spiro sent Warren tumbling down the slope towards the other mice. He watched Warren tumble and then readied himself to receive Brutus' onslaught. The rat was approaching too fast. There was no escape.
Brutus leapt over the brow of the slope, brandishing his formidable weapon and commenced an attack immediately. Without the risk of hitting Warren or any other innocent creature Brutus now showed no restraint in his assault. Spiro leapt back as a halberd dug into the earth where he had been standing, another swing made Spiro duck and roll away. His retreat continued as the Brutus forced him out onto the spur of stone; the stream flowing by rapidly below. Although fighting the small and mobile Spiro, Brutus' wielded his halberd with ease, each strike precise and swift. However the weapon seemed only able to tear a fresh rent into Spiro's already tattered cloak. Only once did a weapon find Spiro's flesh, opening a long, thin wound on his leg. Every now and again Spiro would counterattack, usually simply to open a gap for further retreat. He was biding his time. Each warrior was seeing who would tire first, who would make the first mistake.
Brutus lunged forward, but the big rat lost his footing on the slick ground. He faltered, taking precious moments in regaining his balance. Spiro readied himself to charge, but whirled at a new sound.
From the shadows of the undergrowth came another attacker. Martin, having climbed the slope while Spiro's attention was elsewhere, sprung forward, swinging Warren's salvaged sword around with all his might. Spiro blocked with his poisoned blade, but Martin's attack was strong. The prongs of Spiro's weapon were sheared off, spinning away, and Martin's blade cut the other mouse's arm, a deep wound. Spiro dropped the ruined weapon and leapt backwards, taking another knife, long, thin and deadly, from his belt. There was a tense moment of stillness, the three combatants regarding one another. Above the sky was growing increasingly brighter, but dull yellow clouds muted the dawn's light. The drizzle continued, its constant patter the percussion to the battle
"This is useless," growled Brutus. "You're wounded, Spiro, and outnumbered. You can't win."
"Let me fight him," rumbled Martin, his eyes locked on Spiro.
"No. You stay back. Get between him and the rest of your family." Brutus hefted his spear and stepped forward. "I'll deal with him."
Martin was sure he saw Spiro's face twist into a sneer. Was he actually enjoying this? the young mouse thought.
Brutus straightened his back, standing tall against the rain, glaring back at the tattered mouse. Spiro too stooped slightly, holding his knives near to the ground but pointing up at Brutus. The rat's weapon twitched and the fight began again.
Spiro darted back and forth, Brutus swivelling, halberd brought up ready to defend. As the mouse struck Brutus countered the blow, however Spiro moved with the rat's swing, spinning around behind the larger creature, using an agility that the rat couldn't match. Brutus swung the butt of the halberd, but it moved through air and Spiro had an opening to lash out at Brutus. With a grunt the rat went down onto one knee as Spiro's blade tore into his leg. Deftly twirling a knife around Spiro plunged a knife into Brutus' shoulder. The rat roared, dropping his halberd completely, using his good arm to stop himself falling to the ground. Spiro was moving too quickly for anyone to notice but there was an unpleasant glint in Spiro's eye. His dead eye. With his opponent now without a weapon he twisted the knife in Brutus' shoulder. With another cry of rage Brutus reared up and grabbed Spiro, taking up a handful of scarf. With all his strength Brutus threw Spiro to the ground with a crunching impact, one knife left protruding from the rat's shoulder, the other sailing away into the gloomy vegetation. Spiro rolled away, but controlled the movement, finishing in a crouch, ready for the next assault. The blood from his forehead was matting the fur on his face, his leg was a similar dark mess. His shoulders heaved with each heavy breath. The rat did not know it, but Spiro remained in his crouch because it was possible he would not be able to stand. The mouse drew his last knife, a short, straight blade.
Brutus stood uneasily and winced as he pulled the knife from his shoulder. He hurled it at the rocky ground, shattering it. The rat moved forward, blocking Spiro into the outcrop of rock. Martin ran forward again and stood beside Brutus, hefting the borrowed sword.
"What now?" asked Martin. "Should I go and get some more help?"
"No we've got him now," Brutus hissed back. "I felt that little demon break!"
Spiro hissed in reply. At that moment, behind him, the sun rose over the horizon, lighting the clouded skies in brilliant copper. It dazzled Brutus and Martin who hurried to cover their eyes. Spiro saw an opening, maybe the last, and took it.
Out of the golden halo of sunlight came the black shape, cloak billowing like tattered wings. Spiro bared his teeth, blade in hand, bearing down on Martin and Brutus, a last frenzied attack. Martin himself tried to pull away from Spiro's mad lunge. Brutus decided to make his own attack and... time seemed to freeze.
The moment stretched on. Martin had drawn his sword up close to his chest and managed to get it between himself and Spiro's blade in sheer desperation. Brutus was charging forward full tilt, his arm extended in a punch that had landed like a hammer. His fist was driving into Spiro's gut. Spiro himself hung in the air. His body was doubled up; bent around Brutus' fist, his blade was leaving his hand, bouncing off Martin's defence. His mouth was gaping wide and his in his eye there was only surprise.
Time trickled back. Spiro's blade skittered away across the ground. Martin fell backwards behind Brutus who followed through with his battering ram punch, throwing Spiro backwards and into the air. The mouse flew, hit the ground and bounced. He landed again, and rolled, his limbs flailing. Finally he slid the last short distance across wet, slimy rock and slipped over the ledge of the spur, tumbling down out of sight hitting the churning water below with a distant splash.
Martin sprang up and stood next to Brutus, the pair searching the area below for any sign of movement, but it was still too gloomy to make out any details.
Below Spiro was tossed about by the turbid little stream. He flailed his arms wildly, slowly making his way to the bank. Once there he heaved himself from the water, and once clear, collapsed onto the muddy bank, exhausted, wounded, and consumed with a bitter rage. He lay there for a short while, in the cool shade thrown by the highland. After a few moments he levered himself up, his whole body wracked with pain. Reaching up with one arm he detached the empty belt that would have held his knives. He adjusted the bandages as best he could, tightened his scarf about his face and drew his sodden cape about his shoulders. Then he looked about, taking in the dark forest that surrounded him. The sun had not yet reached it and beneath the canopy it might as well have been night. It had been a long time since Spiro was alone and unarmed in the forest. Slowly he made his way into the shadows beneath the trees, limping, and hugging one arm to him, blood still trickling into his fur.
As Spiro passed a large tree there was a glint, pinpricks of light in the shadows. From the undergrowth a pair of hungry eyes watched the little creature struggle on. A beak, wet with salivation, opened and a voice hissed,
"What is this, little ones...?"
Above Brutus slumped down to sit on the ground, his chest heaving, looking out into the golden dawn. Mrs. Brisby, Cynthia in tow, ran to Martin. She hugged her son close, Martin putting a hand on his mother's arm. Timothy peered at the muddy ground, searching for his father's Stone. Teresa knelt beside the fallen Warren, holding his head in her own wounded and bloodied arms.
"I'm sorry..." was all Warren could manage, his voice a gurgling rasp.
"For what?" asked Teresa, brushing Warren's soaking hair away from his eyes.
"I'm sorry... I had to... do that.... But I had to..."
"It's okay. It's fine," said Teresa, shaking with sobs.
"I wanted to make sure... I explained before..."
"There is no ‘before'! Nothing is going to happen. You're not going anywhere."
"Sorry..."
"No!" Teresa's voice was almost pleading.
A weak smile appeared briefly on Warren's lips, and then faded as his mouth went slack and his eyes closed. His ravaged chest rose and fell weakly. Teresa shook her head, tears rolled down her cheeks.
"No!" she moaned quietly, resting her head on the mouse's shoulder.
Timothy, spying a dull red glow on the ground, dragged the Stone from the mud. Wiping it clean he joined his family where they stood around Teresa and Warren. Timothy quickly turned away when he saw Warren. His gaze shifted to the amulet. He gazed into its red depths. He turned it over and read the inscription again.
"You can unlock any door if you only have the key."
Something clicked in his mind. Any door? Was his father exaggerating? He turned it back around and stared at his own reflection in the amulet. He knelt down.
Teresa was still cradling Warren. Mrs. Brisby had crouched down beside her eldest daughter and was trying to console her.
"I can help," said Timothy quietly.
"Timothy..." began Mrs. Brisby.
"I'm sure the Stone can help. I'm sure of it," the young mouse insisted.
Teresa raised her head and looked at the medallion through puffy red eyes.
"The Stone," she whispered. "If it can raise our old house maybe in can help." Warren, still with closed eyes, was trying to control his breathing as Timmy knelt down beside him. The young mouse placed the jewel on Warren's chest. All present looked at the Stone.
"How does it work?" Timothy asked. "Mum, what did you do before?"
"Nothing it... happened so fast. I just took it and..."
"Why isn't it doing anything?" asked Cynthia.
"Come on work!" called Timothy. He raised his head to the sky, blinking the rain from his eyes he said, "Dad... How do you make it work?"
Then Warren opened his eyes and gasped for breath, his whole body tensing. They all drew away, unsure of what was happening, yet looked on expectantly. The inhalation stopped and Warren lay there still, mouth and eyes open wide. Then slowly the breath left him again, his eyes closed and his body became limp.
"No," said Teresa, shaking her head in disbelief. She reached out and grasping Warren's tunic shook him gently. "No!" This came as a scream as she realised that Warren would not respond to her. She lowered her head again, weeping. Mrs. Brisby put her arm around her daughter. Martin looked on, reciprocating his sister's feelings, regardless of how he felt about Warren. Cynthia stood in the rain and cried. Brutus looked over his shoulder at the sorry group. He swiftly averted his eyes, his head hanging against his chest.
Timothy was heartbroken. He had been sure that the Stone created by his father, the Stone that had miraculously saved them all from death by drowning and him in particular from Fraus, would help in this moment of dire need. But it had now forsaken them. It still lay on Warren's chest. Unmoving.
Timothy felt tears in his eyes shut them tight. He could almost feel his sister's sorrow. The frustration. He wished bitterly that he could do something, could save the mouse without whose help, they might all be dead or possibly worse.
He felt his face warm and put his hands in front of it. He was surprised that the sensation of warmth was now upon his hands. He lowered them from his face and opened his eyes. His breath caught. He saw that once again the Stone had surprised him. The medallion glowed, a deep red. One by one his family noticed the Stone's activity and turned to look as Timothy reached out and touched its surface. Energy made the air crackle as the Stone unleashed its power; Timmy winced as his hand glowed with the energy. The light formed itself into an aura. It crept along his arm, spreading over his entire body, engulfing him, filling him with its energy. He became aware of a roaring around him, like he was caught in a high wind. The Stone pulsed again and its influence began to spread into the fallen mouse, covering Warren in the same radiant glow. His body tensed and almost seemed to rise off the ground.
Timmy closed his eyes from the sudden blinding light...
When he opened them again he found he was no longer in the valley.
It was a barren wasteland. Gaunt shrubs littered the cracked dust plain. The vegetation rotted slowly beneath a dying red sun. Timothy looked around and saw an unkempt mass of emaciated trees. There was also a pool near to that, and around that pool there was activity. Timothy jogged, hopping over the dry, sun baked stones in his way. As he drew near he saw what he had thought to be a stagnant pool was actually composed of a viscous tar. Near the edge of this pool lay Warren; face down, his legs trailed into the black ichor. He wasn't moving.
Timothy hurried towards the other mouse. As he neared, slowly, Warren began to slide backwards, as if being drawn into the black liquid by some unseen creature. The movement was gradual and unnerving. The young mouse sprinted now, he didn't know what was happening, but it was obvious haste was needed. Warren disappearing into the back ooze could only be bad. He was only a few bounds away when a voice stopped him dead.
"Timothy."
It was gentle and deep, a voice Timothy remembered well and thought he would never hear again.
"Over here, Timothy," it said again. The voice was coming from the copse of dead trees. Timothy almost didn't have the nerve to turn around.
"Dad?" he asked.
"That's right," the tone was light and happy. "Don't be afraid. Turn around."
Timothy turned and in the shadows of the trees he could see a mouse. He couldn't make out any details, but it was certainly very familiar.
Just then Warren lurched further into the dark waters. At the movement Timothy turned his head. The liquid was now lapping about Warren's shoulders.
"Come Timothy," said the voice. Timothy faced the mouse again.
"How can you be here?" the little mouse asked.
"If it is answers you seek," the mouse raised its left hand into the light. It was the same shade as his father's fur, "you need only take my hand."
"Timothy..." A new voice spoke this. It was cracked and hoarse. Timothy looked again to Warren. The other mouse had raised his head to look with bloodshot eyes at him. "Help me!" he whispered.
"Come to me, my son," said the mouse in the shadows. At that moment Warren gave a yelp as with another lurch, he slipped further into the tar pit, the black fluid lapped about the mouse's neck. Something did not sit well with Timothy.
"I have to help Warren first," he called out to the silhouette, and made to dash to Warren's aid. He stopped again.
"Timothy! Come to me! Now!"
The little grey mouse turned his head slowly. More of the mouse was visible now. His eyes glowed golden.
"But..." Timothy began.
"No buts," said the voice, a little more insistently. "It is important you come to me now. Answers await you Timmy, I feel you have many questions. I can help you. You must trust me."
Warren gave another yelp. His head was barely above the water.
"Timothy!" the other voice called. The golden eyes moved back and forth slowly, the mouse's head shaking.
Then another light source appeared. From out of the giant red sun came a radiant white light. It grew, quickly descending upon the scene. So bright was the light, Timothy could not look at it. The rays cast by this new apparition illuminated the copse of skeleton trees. The mouse that stood amongst them retreated, scurrying behind one of the thin trunks, red eyes disappearing into shadows. In this new light, Timothy saw something that made his blood run cold. The hand that had been proffered changed in the illumination. Ragged, scorched flesh stopped at the wrist. Where the hand had been, was a brutal, barbed hook.
Timothy backed away. He did not understand what was happening and was frightened. He felt warmth on his hand as something took it and gently he was turned to face the glorious white light. He closed his eyes, but a new voice made him open them again.
"Timmy..." it said.
The grey mouse looked into the light. Somehow, two eyes were visible in the radiant depths. Those golden eyes regarded him.
"It's a test, Timmy. Let me help... Go there!" it said. Timothy looked around. He was in time to see Warren disappear below the black morass. He darted forward, to the edge of the quagmire and plunged his hands into the dark sludge searching urgently for Warren. His questing hands found nothing.
He looked about the slick surface for any sign of life or movement. There was none. Suddenly a hand burst forth from the depths to claw desperately at the air. Timmy lunged forward stretching out his own hand. Their fingers touched...
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."
Cynthia retracted her hand from where it had rested on Timothy's.
The influence of the Stone was gone, along with its light. Timothy let out a ragged gasp. He swayed and collapsed onto the ground. Mrs. Brisby went over and made to pick up her youngest son, but he raised himself from the muddy ground and looked at Warren. Warren was blinking his eyes against the rain. He swallowed and gulped down a lungful of fresh air. Teresa was still crying, but the tears were now of a profound relief. Reaching out she hugged Warren. Timothy smiled and tried to turn his head to face his mother, but as he did so his vision swam and he fainted; his mother stopping him from falling back into the mud. Mrs. Brisby gathered his unconscious form into her arms, brushing his hair from his face. Brutus stood nearby, looking on at the result of the Stone's power and at the little mouse who had unleashed it.
