The Deptford Mice 3: The Final Reckoning

by Robin Jarvis

  ‘Sssssaaaahhhh!’ hissed a guttural voice from the darkness.

  Audrey hesitated, as around the corner came a pallid radiance. It was the light from a flame of starfire – one of Jupiter’s ghosts was up there with her! The light grew as the unseen spirit closed on her and Audrey cried out in horror as the glow lit the ghastly spectre’s face – it was Piccadilly.

  The shade of the city mouse was terrifying. His hair was matted down with gouts of black blood and in his freckled face the sockets of his eyes gaped hollowly; his lips were drawn back over his teeth which were now sharp and fang-like and in his paws he carried an ice spear. He prowled across the balcony and crept nearer to Audrey who was too sickened and petrified to move.

  ‘Ssssss,’ the wraith spat at her. ‘Piccadilly,’ she managed to utter, ‘it’s me, Audrey.’ He did not hear her and sucked the dribbling saliva through his fangs as the spear was raised.

  ‘Piccadilly!’ she cried. ‘Stop, please.’

  But the phantom came on and the spear left its paws. Audrey dived down but its bitter spike caught and tangled in her hair, mercilessly pinning her to the balcony rail. Audrey twisted and squirmed to free herself but the pinnacle of ice was embedded deep into the stout balustrade.

  The ghost of Piccadilly snarled and flung itself on her. Audrey wept and struggled but cold paws found her throat. She looked into the black, empty spaces where the city mouse’s eyes had been and sobbed, ‘Please Piccadilly, stop.’ The chill fingers slowly began to strangle her and a harsh laugh echoed from the phantom’s mouth.

  ‘Please,’ she implored, ‘please don’t.’ The ghost squeezed and dug its nails in deeply. Audrey choked and battled for breath. The spectre brought its face close to hers and from out of the blank sockets tears started to fall and splashed on the girl’s cheek. ‘Fight it, Piccadilly,’ she pleaded.

  The wraith suddenly let go of her and swayed as though hit by an invisible blow. Piccadilly’s ghost staggered back and threw its paws over its anguished face. Audrey watched it strive against the controlling starfire that flashed and crackled angrily, then she tugged and pulled her hair free of the spear.

  ‘You can do it Piccadilly!’ she shouted. ‘Remember who you were, remember Holeborn, remember Oswald.’

  The starfire dwindled and as the phantom took its paws from its face, two bright, twinkling eyes gleamed there. ‘Audrey?’ whispered Piccadilly’s shade.

  The girl nodded and smiled through her tears. ‘Oh Piccadilly,’ she sobbed.

  He looked sadly at her and she hung her head. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she cried wretchedly, ‘I . . . I loved you so much. If only I’d told you.’

  He did not answer, for at that moment a voice familiar to both of them called softly from the other side. ‘Dilly-O, Dilly-O.’

  Audrey looked up and shook her head. ‘Father,’ she stammered forlornly.

  A point of light appeared over the balcony, then it grew larger and a beautiful glow flooded from it. A flickering, blue outline glimmered amidst the shining splendour and the smiling face of Albert Brown beamed out. ‘It’s time you joined me Dilly-O,’ his voice said kindly. ‘Come, I’ll lead you once more and you shall find peace. Take my paw.’

  Audrey’s heart reached out to the spirit of her dead father. ‘Don’t go,’ she called out, ‘please, Daddy I miss you.’

  Albert turned to his daughter and the warmth of his love surged through her tired limbs. ‘My darling Audrey,’ he said gently, ‘I am so proud of you, my little, lovely child.’ The light that framed him began to fade, ‘Tell your mother I understand and wish her joy, and kiss Arthur for me. I have to go now baby, but we’ll meet again one day – I promise.’

  Audrey could not bear it; the tears streamed saltily down her face and her head ached with the grief that welled up inside.

  ‘Audrey,’ came Albert’s failing voice, ‘remember the festival of Spring.’ And he floated back into the fading glow.

  Piccadilly turned to the sobbing girl. ‘Goodbye,’ he said. She lifted her face and the blessed light of the other side sparkled in her raw eyes. Audrey could not speak for the emotion gagged her; she nodded to him lamely.

  The spirit shot a quick glance at the dwindling gateway and with a typical, irreverent grin he darted over to her. ‘Audrey,’ he said earnestly, ‘I loved you too.’ He pressed his phantom lips against hers and with that kiss he told her more than words ever could. They parted and, looking into each other’s eyes, he merged with the light and melted away. She touched her lips that still felt the tender, whispering kiss and fell to her knees.

  The balcony was dark and empty, the wind howled in and Audrey was alone, one small mouse at the foot of doom.

  The sun spluttered its last and with a shattering blast was vanquished. Far, far above Jupiter tossed his head victoriously and bellowed. The world shook and mountains toppled, seas thrashed the darkened land and rivers broke their banks. Chaos engulfed the Earth and the ravaging cold of the abyss screamed down.

  Audrey felt the balcony splinter and snap beneath her as the Unbeest roared exultantly and his lightning laurels streaked triumphantly through the everlasting night. The platform creaked and broke away from the wall. Audrey looked up – there was still one thing left unfinished. The giant abhorrence that rejoiced amid the clouds had destroyed any chance of happiness she ever had, and the sense of yearning loss that had overwhelmed her turned to ice cold fury and hatred.

  The balcony dropped suddenly and swung out from the observatory. Audrey rose and quickly ran along the lurching platform. With a great leap she jumped off just as it crashed to the ground. Audrey clung to the battered dome and raised her head; the gale plucked and tore at her but she held on grimly and struggled to her feet.

  Jupiter was shaking with vicious laughter as the void devoured the world; he raised his claws and the Starglass shone out bleakly.

  ‘Turn and face me!’ Audrey shouted with all the strength she could muster, her hair streaming wildly about her face as she glared up. Her voice reverberated round the empty sky like thunder and rang in Jupiter’s ears.

  He ceased his black mirth and peered down at the insignificant creature below. The terrible eyes narrowed as he recognized her, the slayer of his body. An evil smile split his face as he lowered it, white fire ripped from his nostrils and withered the ground about the observatory. ‘Why have you come?’ he mocked her cruelly, and the hail of his breath struck her violently.

  But Audrey was undaunted. The tears had dried in her bloodshot eyes and she stared boldly back at the calamitous nightmare that descended and sneered at her. With a brave, stern face she confronted her demon and the voice she raised to it was daring and defiant, ‘I come to call down my destiny – and it is tall and dangerous!’

  Jupiter cackled at her ridiculous figure. ‘Verily shall I deliver unto you thy doom – meek and futile though ye be.’

  Audrey stood her ground and shouted, ‘Let it be as the Green Mouse wills it!’

  The Unbeest guffawed, ‘Ha! Listen to how she squeaks of the Green Mouse! Where is your mighty champion now, foolish insect? Why does he not roll back the sun if his strength is greater than Jupiter?’ He had had enough and decided to end the mouse’s life.

  She leaned into the storm as his gaping maw swept towards her and with a swift movement took something from her waistband. The little green shoot she had found in the ashes of the Starwife’s pyre fluttered in the blizzard as she thrust it before her and into the vicious face that plunged down. The tiny plant unfurled in her paw and a delicate white flower opened its petals; it was a snowdrop – the herald of spring and symbol of death, but no more than a speck of dust against his vast satanic glory. Audrey pulled her arm back and hurled the fragile bloom into the dark throat that threatened to swallow her.

  A blaze of emerald fire ignited and burst from the minute flower as it spun down Jupiter’s cavernous gullet. The full, unstoppable might of spring was in those flames and they radiated out gladly as down into the depths of the Unbe
est’s stomach the bright, kindling fire tumbled.

  Jupiter screamed and his cataclysmic cries convulsed creation. He fell back, stabs of blinding green slicing through his hellish fur. ‘Witch!’ he screeched at Audrey, ‘What have you done?’

  ‘I curse you with all the force of life!’ answered Audrey gravely.

  His crown of lightning disappeared as jets of flame steamed out of his ears and he gasped typhoons of emerald smoke and shooting sparks. The great, rolling tail smouldered and the ghastly hackles rose as they turned greener than new grass.

  Jupiter stared at it in horror and brought it lashing down to beat out the enchanted fires that frazzled his fur. The lumbering tail smashed against the fallen trees and at once the snow melted from their branches and they exploded into blossom.

  ‘It cannot be!’ he roared with agony as the flames danced round him and scalding lava poured from his nose, ‘I am Jupiter, mightier than Death.’

  ‘I did not condemn you to death,’ Audrey scorned him, ‘but with the doom of life!’

  The summit of the observatory erupted with flame as the mountainous spirit tottered on the dome and a furnace of new, purifying growth scourged through him. The Starglass fell from his iron claws and spiralled down. ‘Nooo!’ yelled Jupiter, but it was too late. With a resounding smash it hit the floor and shattered into a million fragments.

  An enormous rumble shook the world as the power of the imprisoned stars escaped. In a gush of piercing, white light the celestial lamps soared through the night, filling the empty void and electrifying the heavens once more.

  Jupiter shrieked as the enveloping flames scorched him; his ghostly hide turned a livid, writhing green and golden flowers stabbed out of his wintry skin. He wailed and tore at his sparkling fur. ‘I shall escape it!’ he screamed, ‘I shall!’

  Audrey watched him solemnly, ‘You cannot escape it,’ she tormented him, ‘for you have proved you cannot die. Torture everlasting is your deserved fate, Jupiter.’

  The infernal spirit realized then that this was the end, the mouse had conquered him. He was doomed to be incinerated by the spring till the end of time but never to be consumed by it. He burst into a terrific blistering rush of flames and became a towering effigy of fire then he rocketed, howling, into the air. Higher and higher he soared into the freezing reaches of space, screeching his suffering and fury. Like a green comet he shot up, chased by the forces of life through the universe until he was only a faint blur between the stars. Consigned to the vacuum of the void he suffered in the agony of spring throughout eternity.

  Audrey dropped with fatigue, her energy spent.

  A rosy light glimmered on the horizon as a fresh, new day dawned. The golden rays of the reborn sun shone over the dissipating clouds and stretched over the land, ushering in a beautiful morning.

  The world was awakening fast. The snow dissolved rapidly and patches of snowdrop-freckled grass appeared. The burgeoning greenery flooded over the park, the frost-locked trees thawed and glowing blossom burst out with vibrant colours. A glorious chorus of grateful birds took flight and soared into the pale blue sky. All the seasons met as summer roses popped open and gave their perfume to the breeze. Fruit swelled on blossom-burdened boughs and leaves of autumn gold shone in the sweet air.

  It was a heady sight and Audrey absorbed it breathlessly. The Earth was thanking her and putting forth all its blissful delights in homage. She bowed her head and wept.

  * * *

  On the Cutty Sark, the mice had felt Jupiter roar with anguish. The ship pitched frighteningly and the spectres gibbered, and when the Starglass had shattered the starfire ripped out of their chests and shot upwards. The phantoms wavered for a second, bereft of will, then with a yowl, each one of the hideous fiends crackled and disappeared.

  Thomas gaped in amazement and above them on the deck, he heard the surviving bats cheer rejoicingly. The mice hugged themselves and cried with relief. Arthur held onto his mother and she kissed him. The light of the new day streamed into the hold through the ragged gaps and they all bent their heads and said a humble prayer of thanks.

  The injured were carefully tended to. The bodies of Master Oldnose, Algy Coltfoot and the others who died were carried respectfully out in the warm spring sunshine and the mice joined the bats in lamenting their fallen. But the nature of the joyous day was such that no one could contain their happiness at Jupiter’s defeat. Orfeo and Eldritch felt the sun’s rays diminish the horror in their minds and slowly they recovered.

  Ashmere, his bearded face beaten and bruised, sent two of his brethren to the observatory to fetch Audrey and bring her back in honour. ‘For the new Handmaiden of Orion is the greatest since history began,’ he said.

  Suddenly the Raddle sisters interrupted the celebrations that were taking place on deck; they had remained in the hold and they galloped up the steps in a state of great agitation and excitement, ‘Come down, come down,’ they squeaked simultaneously flapping their paws at them all.

  Confused but amused, the mice went down the steps once more and flitting behind them came the bats.

  ‘Oh Thomas,’ gasped Gwen incredulously, ‘is it true?’

  ‘Aye lass,’ the midshipmouse replied, bewildered.

  A marvellous sight greeted their staring eyes: the hold was filled with luscious greenery and honey-scented flowers opened and shone like the sun. Sparkling lights shimmered over the lustrous, twining leaves that wrapped and clustered round the figureheads, and golden stretches of grain spilled over the floor. The hold was a forest of burnished gold and twinkling emerald and there, in the centre, was the Green Mouse.

  Everyone covered their mouths in awe when they saw him.

  He wore a crown of leaves and wheat and his eyes were filled with the light of sun-dappled glades. The Green Mouse smiled and his flowing, leafy coat rustled as he welcomed them. ‘Enter,’ said his rich, deep voice, ‘come in all of you.’

  With astounded faces the mice shuffled forward and bowed. The hallowed spirit of spring and summer beamed and the hold was flooded with warmth. The bats flapped down the steps and he said to them, ‘The Lady shall visit you tonight no doubt, worthy night wings.’

  Orfeo and Eldritch limped forward and bowed. The Green Mouse swept their fears away with his splendour and then he asked gently, ‘Where are the parents of the albino?’

  Mr and Mrs Chitter looked up sadly; they knew; what had happened to Oswald. The Green Mouse gazed at them and magic flashed from his eyes. ‘Do not grieve overlong,’ he told them and from his coat he produced burning flower that cooled in his palm – it was a mousebrass. ‘Take this now in remembrance of your son, who would have come of age this year.’

  Jacob Chitter stepped forward and received the precious gift, the sign of courage and bravery. Oswald had indeed earned it.

  ‘He was a valiant, noble boy,’ said the Green Mouse. ‘Remember him with the greatest pride.’ Mr and Mrs Chitter nodded and stole into a corner where the mourned the loss of Oswald together.

  The Green Mouse turned and looked through the tear in the hull. The sky was a blazing sapphire blue, and flying high and swiftly towards the ship were three dots. With a flap and flutter of leathery wings Audrey arrived with two bats.

  ‘Praise to the moon riders,’ the Green Mouse said to the bats who flew in. ‘And now I must pay tribute to you,’ he said to Audrey as she alighted and crept through the hole. He bowed his head in reverence and his green mane cascaded over his shoulders. Audrey was speechless and stole a glance at her family. Gwen swelled with pride and Arthur winked.

  ‘Very great you have grown, my little one,’ said the Green Mouse, ‘and wise beyond measure. I humble myself before you for you alone are responsible for this glad day and my release.’ He held out his paw and Audrey walked over to him. He inclined his head once more and kissed her.

  Audrey pressed her paw into her chest with surprise and shook her head. ‘It wasn’t me,’ she piped up, ‘it was the Starwife really. I think she sacrificed herse
lf to create the snowdrop.’

  Those deep, fathomless eyes she remembered so well twinkled at her. ‘You, her, she,’ he chuckled, ‘all are one now, so I thank you.’ The girl looked at him puzzled for a moment and then she smiled. ‘Yes,’ she said.

  Audrey then looked at her mother and Thomas and grinned. ‘I know what is in your heart,’ she said. ‘Father knows too and he wishes you both happiness. You belong together now.’

  Gwen glanced at Thomas then Audrey and gasped, ‘How did you know what I . . . ?’ but she blushed and looked at her feet.

  The Green Mouse laughed. ‘Come Mrs Brown,’ he chortled, I give you my blessing.’ He turned to Thomas and told him, ‘You are a lucky mouse, seafarer.’

  Thomas blinked and then he blushed too. ‘I reckon so,’ he mumbled sheepishly.

  And so the Green Mouse married them and the glorious spring sunshine filled the hold and lived in their hearts till the end of their days.

  The Call of the Silver

  The bounteous time lasted for many months and in those splendid days the mice remained on the Cutty Sark and made comfortable homes for themselves there. Master Oldnose and Algy Coltfoot and the other mice who fell were buried in the park beneath a hawthorn tree and the grass that grew over them was dotted with flowers all year round.

  The bats had taken their dead away for their own private ceremony but they raised a little monument to Hathkin on the observatory hill in the form of a crescent moon crafted in silver that shone on dark winter nights to give hope to the weary traveller. The friendship between the mice of the ship and the bats of the air was strong ever after and neither side forgot the part the other played in Jupiter’s downfall.

  After some weeks had passed, several mice, led by Arthur, returned to the empty house in Deptford. But the damage Jupiter’s army had inflicted could not be repaired and they had to load all the useful items they could find into sacks and take them back to the ship.