by Robin Jarvis
The Starwife eased herself gingerly back down on to her throne and gave a wicked chuckle. She relaxed and turned once more to Audrey. ‘You must think me a rude old battleaxe,’ she said calmly. Audrey flushed – it obviously wasn’t safe to think in front of this creature. ‘I do have manners but it’s so rare that I find anyone worth practising them on. You must forgive me child.’
‘Why did you send for me?’ Audrey asked.
‘There are two reasons Miss Brown. Firstly, I desired to speak to the one who sent Jupiter to his doom. Tell me all you know and all that happened on that glad day.’
Audrey breathed deeply, not sure where to begin. Then she recounted all that had happened to her since One-Eyed Jake had dragged her through the Grille up to the time she had thrown her mousebrass at Jupiter. Throughout her tale the Starwife kept silent, nodding her head on occasion as if she understood more than Audrey about the events. When she had finished Audrey stepped back and waited for the other to comment.
‘A dark story you have told, Miss Brown, with more horror than you know. There are certain things contained in your narrative which I had no knowledge of. Of course I knew all the time that Jupiter was a cat. I recognised the body he concealed in the darkness behind those burning eyes of his. A two-headed rat monster – rubbish, as I always maintained. But other things do surprise me. That episode in the pagan temple where Jake murdered Fletch, now that is disturbing – Mabb, Hobb and Bauchan are old gods and it frightens me to think they are but newly worshipped. Who can tell what folly will come of that?’ The Starwife raised her head and gazed distractedly at the star maps.
‘Your pardon ma’am,’ said Thomas softly. ‘You mentioned two reasons for wanting to see Miss Audrey – may we know the second?’
‘Oh, I’m sorry Triton,’ she replied, and it seemed to Audrey that the Starwife was just a harmless squirrel older than nature had ever intended her to be.’
‘Fetch me my stick will you lad,’ she motioned to Twit. The fieldmouse ran to retrieve it from the floor. He bowed as he presented it to her. The Starwife received it gratefully. ‘Thank you lad. It is more than a missile with which I bruise my subjects’ stupid heads – I would not be able to walk without it.’
‘And now,’ she sighed, turning to Audrey once more, ‘you shall know the other reason why I brought you here.’ She banged the stick on the floor loudly and waited for the young squirrel to return.
‘Ah there you are, Piers. Don’t be afraid. I promise not to throw it any more today.’
‘Did you wish for anything madam?’ asked the squirrel doubtfully.
The Starwife nodded and told him, ‘Bring in our guest.’
Piers disappeared once more.
‘It’s over a week ago now,’ she began, ‘that our sentries spotted someone skulking in our park. The sight of this creature was fearful to behold and all fled before it. Nearer to my realm it drew. I could not get a word of sense from my guards – such a state they were in. “A gibbering ghost” they called it. I gave them a clip round the ear and told them they would be the gibbering ghosts if they didn’t bring the creature to me.’ The Starwife allowed a slow smile to spread over her face.
‘Did they bring the ghost?’ asked Twit breathlessly.
‘Oh yes they did right enough, but it was no ghost. They caught her in their nets and she was in a terrible state.’
‘She?’ asked Audrey in surprise.
The Starwife narrowed her misty eyes. ‘Yes, her ribs were like roots poking through the soil and her belly was taut as a bark drum. She had not eaten for many days but she still managed to put up a hearty resistance. Seven of my sentries still have sore heads.’
‘So who was she?’ Audrey broke in. ‘What did she want?’
‘She wanted nothing, but I made her drink some milk and with that some life seemed to return to her dead eyes. I questioned her but could learn very little. In fact, Miss Brown, you have told me more about my guest than she has herself.’
‘I have?’ Audrey could not believe it. Slowly a vague suspicion began to dawn on her.
‘Yes, for she is known to you – can you not guess? I see you suspect.’
Audrey’s heart was fluttering with apprehension and dread.
Behind the banner, coming down the passage she could hear Piers returning – his quick, nervous footsteps were unmistakable but alongside came a clumsy flapping of large ungainly feet and with them there was a voice.
‘Go to see squirrel boss lady, oh yes.’
Audrey’s mouth fell open and she inhaled sharply. The banner was thrust aside and Piers scampered into the chamber followed by . . . Madame Akkikuyu.
3. The Bargain
Audrey backed away as Madame Akkikuyu entered.
Once she had been a beautiful rat maiden but her looks had faded with the cruel blows life had dealt her. When Audrey had first met her, Madame Akkikuyu had been a fortune-teller who also dabbled with poisonous love potions. But she had always craved genuine magical powers and that’s how Jupiter had corrupted her into his service. It was Madame Akkikuyu who had delivered Audrey to him. Even then she had still been a striking figure – her fur a rich, sleek black and her eyes dark and fathomless.
Audrey pitied the fortune-teller now. As Madame Akkikuyu dragged her feet towards them they could plainly see that the rat had nearly starved to death in the past weeks. Her skin hung baggily off her frame and her fur was moulting away in ugly patches. Only the tattooed face on her ear looked the same. Around her shoulders she still wore the old spotted shawl, and strapped about her waist she carried her pouches of dried leaves and berries. In one large bag was her crystal ball.
Madame Akkikuyu stumbled up to those gathered around the throne and grinned sheepishly up at the Starwife. With a shock Audrey saw something terrible dancing in the rat’s eyes – Madame Akkikuyu had lost her mind.
‘Welcome Akkikuyu,’ said the Starwife warmly. ‘There are friends of yours here.’
The rat gazed distractedly at the mice. She did not recognise the sturdy one with the red kerchief around his neck, but then she hardly knew anything any more. Her head was in such a muddle these days, ever since . . . no, she could not remember when. There was a closed door in her head that she could not open and she knew that all the answers were locked behind it . . . and yet for some reason she was afraid to discover the truth.
Her memory was as patchy as her fur. She knew the crystal ball and the pouches of leaves were important to her but she did not know why. Since these nice squirrels had taken her in she had sat with the crystal in her hands many times and admired it how the light curved over its perfect round surface and how it soothed her. She regarded it as her most precious belonging.
Occasionally a vivid image of some past time would flit over her eyes and she would snatch at it then hold it dear without knowing what it was. There was one scene where the sun beat down harshly and there was sand between her toes, and water all around. She felt as though she were travelling a great distance and when she looked down at her claws they were young.
Two other things she remembered. The first was a rat with one eye who faded into ash. Indeed, in with her herbs she had found an eye patch. It was frustrating not to know what this meant and most nights Madame Akkikuyu wept long, bitter tears.
The last memory was the one that she feared the most. She was in a vast echoing chamber, and in front of her were two candles and, between them, an archway which she could not force herself to look into. This was the key to unlock that door but she was terrified to discover what lurked in there.
Madame Akkikuyu looked at Twit – the face of the little fieldmouse stirred nothing in the jumble of her memories. Finally she turned to Audrey.
The fortune-teller froze. Yes, she had seen that young mouse before, somewhere. A confused array of images crowded in. Audrey was standing before her but it seemed as though a ball of fire separated them. This was suddenly swept away and an overwhelming sense of guilt washed over her. As she continued t
o stare at the mouse her own voice spoke to her from the past.
‘Mouselet. You, me – run away. Leave dark places, hide and be happy.’
A tear rolled down Akkikuyu’s sunken cheek what had happened to that wonderful plan, she wondered? That was what she wanted now, to go away and have peace in a quiet spot where the sun shone. Swallowing the lump in her throat she said, ‘Mouselet, Akkikuyu know you. Why did we not go to distant places and sleep in summer sunlight?’
Audrey felt uncomfortable. She knew why. The rat had been taking her to Jupiter when this idea had first gripped her. Akkikuyu had weighed up all the unhappiness she had suffered and would have escaped with her when Morgan, Jupiter’s henchrat, had interrupted them and Madame Akkikuyu had been forced to carry out her orders. Audrey had felt sorry for the rat even then but all the more so now. She could not answer her question.
The Starwife tapped her stick and all looked to her.
‘Akkikuyu,’ she began, ‘you have been my guest for nine days now and are free to remain, yet I sense that there is a yearning in you and you feel you are unable to stay here.’
The fortune-teller bowed her head. ‘Oh wise boss lady, you see into Akkikuyu’s heart.’ She closed her eyes and clasped her claws in front of her as though in prayer. ‘You so kind to Akkikuyu. You give food and shelter when others throw stones. Akkikuyu never forget you, sweet bushy one, but mouselet and me, we special – she and I promised. We go away together – we friends.’
Audrey spluttered and lifted her head but the glitter she saw in the Starwife’s eyes silenced any outcry she might have made.
Gently the old squirrel held out one arthritic paw to the fortune-teller.
The rat took it, careful not to hold too tightly. The Starwife bent down and patted the rat’s claw.
‘Peace, Akkikuyu,’ she said. ‘You shall go with your friend, but first you must make ready. The day after tomorrow you will leave. Go now to your room and prepare.’
Madame Akkikuyu wept with joy and moved to embrace Audrey. The mouse backed away, horrified.
‘Hurry, Akkikuyu,’ cut in the Starwife. ‘Run along now. There is much to do.’
‘Yes, yes, Akkikuyu go at once,’ chuckled the rat gleefully as she ran from the chamber.
When she had left, Audrey turned on the Starwife angrily. ‘That was the cruellest thing I’ve ever seen,’ she stormed. ‘Why did you build her hopes up like that?’
The Starwife sat back in the throne and heaved a sigh. ‘What is it I have done wrongly, girl? I merely told her a fact.’
‘But what will happen when she finds out that I’m not going anywhere with her?’
The stick began to tap the ground slowly. ‘She will not find out any such thing, for one simple reason you are going with her.’
Audrey laughed. ‘Not on your life.’
The stick crashed down. ‘Silence!’ raged the Starwife. ‘I will not be spoken to in such a manner. I have told Akkikuyu, now I am telling you. You and she will depart the day after tomorrow.’
Thomas Triton stepped up beside Audrey and put his paw on her arm. ‘Take care miss,’ he whispered. ‘She can make you do anything she wants.’
Audrey glared at the old squirrel. Was this the real reason she had been summoned? Or was this a punishment for her rudeness before? One thing was certain however. Nothing would make her go anywhere with Madame Akkikuyu.
Thomas spoke to the old squirrel. ‘Ma’am,’ he began politely. ‘Where are they to go, the rat and this girl? And how are they to get there?’
The Starwife pointed her stick at Twit. ‘This lad does not belong round here,’ she said. ‘He knows it and was about to go home before his cousin fell ill. What better place for Akkikuyu than a remote field to spend the rest of her days in?’
‘You have to be joking!’ Audrey remarked, shaking her head in disbelief.
‘Never was I more serious,’ the old squirrel replied, a deadly tone in her voice. ‘The day after tomorrow you, young Scuttle and Akkikuyu will leave.’
Suddenly, Twit piped up, ‘But I can’t go yet missus – poor Oswald . . .’
‘The Chitter boy will die before this day is out,’ she said flatly.
The fieldmouse cried out in dismay.
‘Silence!’ the Starwife demanded. ‘You thought so yourself, remember. Late this afternoon the Chitter lad will reach the crisis point and pass away.’
Twit sobbed uncontrollably. ‘How do you know? He might not.’
‘This I have seen,’ snapped the Starwife irritably. ‘Look behind my throne. Behold the Starglass!’
The mice peered around the carved oak throne and there, as tall as three mice, was a flat disc of black, polished glass set in a carved wooden frame. It was this that Audrey had glimpsed before. Over its surface silver flashes flickered and in its midnight depths swirled a multitude of vague and distant images.
‘It is my life,’ explained the Starwife quietly, ‘and it has been the life of every Starwife before me. Our most precious and most powerful possession. With it I have looked into the heart of the rat Akkikuyu and found no evil. That is why she must be taken away from this place. She must not remember what happened in the sewers and never must you mention the name Jupiter to her – it would unhinge her totally. There is only this one chance of redemption for her are you the one to deny her this, child?’
Audrey thought for a while. Finally she said, ‘I am truly sorry for her – but why must I go?’
‘Because she will feel safe with you. Somewhere in her mind you have become linked with this notion of safety in the sun. Only you can lead her away. She will go with no-one else.’ The Starwife stared intently at Audrey as if willing her to accept the heavy burden she was offering.
Audrey looked at Thomas, but he was staring at his feet. She wondered what he was thinking. Had he known about this? No, he had suspected none of this – she was sure of that.
Twit was drying his eyes and saying, ‘Why must we go so soon? We won’t have time for . . .’
‘I think one day is sufficient for the necessary arrangements to be made and undertaken,’ the Starwife replied coldly.
‘What about Mr and Mrs Chitter?’ pleaded Twit. ‘They’ll need me to help them get over . . . it all.’
An icy glint appeared in the old squirrel’s eyes. ‘They will not need any comfort after tonight,’ she said darkly. Twit choked and buried his head in his hands.
Audrey felt cold. She stared grimly at the Starwife. How could anyone be so unfeeling? She put her arm around Twit’s shoulder and spoke softly. ‘Don’t you listen to her. I’m not going anywhere with that rat – no-one can make me do anything I don’t want to.’ Thomas raised his eyes but said nothing.
‘So, you still refuse,’ the Starwife remarked dryly.
‘I do. There’s no way I would ever do anything for you now.’
The Starwife tapped her stick and called for Piers. The young squirrel had been waiting silently at the entrance of the chamber. Now he jumped to attention.
‘Madam?’ he asked eagerly.
‘Fetch it Piers.’
The young squirrel became agitated and flustered. ‘But my lady,’ he whined. ‘You know the consequences, my lady.’
‘I said fetch it!’ she roared, the stick pounding on the floor. ‘There is more to this than you know.’
Piers bowed and dashed off through the banner.
The Starwife tilted her head and smiled at Audrey triumphantly. ‘So, there is nothing I can do to make you take Akkikuyu away?’ She almost chuckled as she said it.
‘Nothing,’ answered Audrey firmly. She eyed the Starwife warily. Who could tell what she might try next?
Piers came bounding back. In his paws he carried a small cloth bag tied tightly at the neck. ‘I have it madam,’ he puffed.
The Starwife’s smile disappeared and for a moment she looked sad and dejected. ‘Thank you Piers,’ she said as he handed it over. He stopped to kiss her paw. ‘Help me down now,’ she asked. ‘Mr
Triton, could you take one arm and Piers the other?’
The midshipmouse rushed to help. Carefully they eased the Starwife off the great chair. Her face screwed up as her old bones creaked and the stiff, dry joints ground together noisily.
‘Thank you,’ she said to both of them when finally she stood on the floor. ‘I curse this old body of mine – it grows worse with every winter.’
‘That is because you do not sleep properly madam,’ said Piers unexpectedly.
‘There is too much to attend to – how can I sleep? Now, the Starglass. Come along, young Scuttle, it needs the relative.’
She hobbled slowly with her stick to the rear of the throne until she stood before the Starglass. There she leaned on the stick heavily and eyed Twit solemnly.
‘Stand in front of me, lad,’ she told him, ‘and take this in your paws.’ She gave him the cloth bag and placed her own paws on his shoulders. ‘Now, hold your arms out straight – that’s right.’
‘No, Twit,’ said Audrey violently. She had watched them curiously and now she was afraid of what the Starwife might do to him. ‘Don’t trust her!’
‘Ignore her, boy,’ rapped the Starwife crossly. ‘Do as you’re told!’
Twit looked from Audrey to the Starwife. What was he to do? Was the old squirrel going to turn him into something dreadful after all? Audrey’s face was anxious and frightened; the Starwife’s was set and stern. But what about Thomas, his friend and hero, what did he think?
‘What’ll I do, Thomas?’ asked the fieldmouse.
The midshipmouse gave him a smile and reassured him. ‘It’ll be all right matey – I know what she’s doin’. She won’t hurt you.’
‘That’s good enough fer me,’ said Twit, greatly relieved. ‘Don’t worry Audrey, Thomas says there ain’t nowt to fear.’ Audrey hoped he was right but then she noticed Piers turning away, a troubled look on his face.
‘Go ahead missus,’ called Twit holding out his arms as straight as he could.
