by Lisa Fiedler
“Father,” she whispered. “Will you tell us about our mother?”
“Yes,” said Hopper, pleased that she’d thought to ask. “Tell us.”
“All right,” said Dodger, reaching out to take first Hopper’s paw, then Pinkie’s. His eyes sparkled as he let himself remember. “Your mother was lovely. Smart like you, Hopper, but also fierce and determined, just like our Pinkie. Like many of the rodents who are born to Brooklyn, above or below it, your mother was given a name to honor the city. I was named for a proud band of warriors who once battled in a grand stadium for which my own father was named. Your mother, like your friends Garfield and Polhemus and Ketchum, was named for one of the city’s fine streets. In my opinion, she was given the loveliest name of all, after the most pleasant and beautiful street in all the borough.”
“What street was it?” asked Hopper, his voice reverent. “What was Mama’s name?”
“It was more than just a name, really. It was a promise, a prophecy, a reminder of the greatest gift that any of us can ever give to one another.” The great Dodger’s eyes shone with pride as he looked from his feisty Chosen daughter to his courageous Chosen son. “Your mother’s name,” he told them, “was Hope.”
La Rocha’s journal—from the Sacred Book of the Mūs
I, the mystical and revered La Rocha, begin my life anew as the eternal voice of these tunnels.
My predecessor is at this very moment enjoying the company of his beloved children for the first time since they were newborn pups. He has served us well for some time now, and he has earned his retirement. For the last several weeks he has been preparing me to take up his mantle and carry on this important work.
Much will be expected of me in my new role. This is an enormous responsibility I have accepted, but I believe in my heart that I am equal to the task.
What I want for all who dwell here is to live in peace, governed by justice. But before that can happen, I fear that we must first endure the challenge of a new and powerful enemy.
He is out there now, in these subway tunnels, seething and simmering, nursing his wounds—both real and imagined—fanning the flames of his anger and awaiting the moment to release his wrath.
He is small, but his plans are big, and his pain is deep.
There is no opponent so dangerous as he who acts in desperation. For in his mind he has nothing to lose. I must find a way to impart this to those who believe in me. Perhaps I will look to my former existence to see what wisdom I can borrow from the life I used to live.
A life in which I nursed a prince and protected a Chosen One.
And watched a revolution grow from its infancy to a promising but tremulous conclusion.
I have seen great suffering, and immeasurable courage. I have witnessed what amazing success can come from the simple act of rodents believing in themselves; they will need to hold fast to that faith when this lurking threat unveils itself.
And it will be up to me to guide them . . . to comfort and advise, to teach and inspire. To watch and listen, and share the secrets of these tunnels with all those who strive to make them safe.
I will begin now by going to the Runes to inscribe this message:
B E W A R E T H E T I N Y V I L L A I N
R I N G E D I N A C I R C L E O F G L O O M.
F O R H E I S T H E T H I E F W H O S T E A L S H O P E.
A N D T H E L O S S O F H O P E I S D O O M.
EPILOGUE
Presently, in the subway tunnels beneath Brooklyn, New York . . .
FOR DAYS PUP’S MIND had raced, shifting back and forth between the moment’s reality and the blistering images of the past; these were mingled with vague, bewildering possibilities for the future.
As he stumbled and staggered away from his shoe shelter, he flashed back to his arrival in the tunnels. His terrifying drop out of the subway car, his crash landing into the hard-packed dirt.
And Cassius.
Cassius, the general who, with a small legion of Atlantian scouts serving at the pleasure of the emperor Titus of the House of Romanus, had found the little mouse crying and cowering beside the rusted metal rail of the subway track. With a smile that reminded Pup of the snake he’d just so narrowly escaped, Cassius had told the wanderer that there was nothing to fear. Atlantia would provide; Atlantia would offer care and shelter and the promise of a whole new life.
Pup had followed willingly. He’d thought he’d been saved.
Now in his mind’s eye he pictured himself enjoying the comforts of the refugee camp and rejoicing when his brother arrived.
Then things became complicated. War whoops and battle cries and a bone horn sounding its warning. Smoke and chaos.
A battle witnessed from deep within a metal cup.
Pinkie’s reign, his own escape . . . and Hacklemesh, the hideous-looking but surprisingly friendly creature who possessed the most remarkable ability . . . that of spinning webs.
It was thanks to Hack that Pup had survived as he combed the tunnels in search of Felina’s lair. The spider had trapped flies and shared them with the near-starving mouse.
And then Hopper had shown up and ruined everything.
Hopper always ruined everything.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I WISH TO THANK the following people who have added so much to my Mouseheart experience, and more important, to my life:
My deepest affection and gratitude to Shannon and Ricky, who remain my most loyal and trusted companions on every adventure. You guys give me courage when I need it (which is most of the time).
Thanks and respect to the extremely cool people at Simon & Schuster, Ruta, Katy, and Paul, who’ve helped make being an author more exciting than I ever knew it could be.
Adoration and appreciation to my “Ode Friends,” who love writing (and dessert) as much as I do.
High-fives to my cousins—all of them! The ones I have looked up to and the ones for whom (I hope) I’ve set a good example. For this only child, you have always been a comfort and a gift.
Love to Dolores, Erik, and Jimmy . . . not the family I was born into, but the one I was lucky enough to marry into.
And finally, I offer something bigger and more profound than even I have words to describe to my mom and dad, who never laughed at the little girl who said she wanted to be a writer. . . . They just bought more paper.
Lisa Fiedler is the author of many novels for children and young adults. She divides her time between Connecticut and the Rhode Island seashore, where she lives happily with her very patient husband, her brilliant and beloved daughter, and their two incredibly spoiled golden retrievers.
Vivienne To has illustrated several books, including the Underland Chronicles series by Suzanne Collins and the Randi Rhodes, Ninja Detective series by Octavia Spencer. As a child, she had two pet mice escape. She currently lives in Sydney, Australia, with her partner and her ginger cat. Visit her online at vivienneto.com.
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Margaret K. McElderry Books
Simon & Schuster • New York
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Also by Lisa Fiedler
Mouseheart
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MARG
ARET K. McELDERRY BOOKS
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2015 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
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Book design by Lauren Rille
Jacket design by Lauren Rille
Jacket illustrations copyright © 2015 by Vivienne To
Logo illustration copyright © 2014 by Craig Howell
The text for this book is set in Absara.
The illustrations for this book are rendered digitally.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Fiedler, Lisa.
Hopper’s destiny / Lisa Fiedler ; illustrated by Vivienne To.—First edition.
p. cm.—(Mouseheart ; [2])
Summary: A brave pet shop mouse named Hopper attempts to rebuild a fallen empire in the underground rat civilization of Atlantia, located in the subway tunnels of Brooklyn, while Queen Felina and her band of street cats declare open season on the rodents.
ISBN 978-1-4814-2089-1 (hardback)
ISBN 978-1-4814-2091-4 (eBook)
[1. Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. 2. Mice—Fiction. 3. Rats—Fiction. 4. Cats—Fiction. 5. Utopias—Fiction. 6. Fate and fatalism—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.F457Ho 2015
[Fic]—dc23
2014030273