The Deptford Mice 2: The Crystal Prison

by Robin Jarvis

  ‘Do you forget your own laws, Nettle?’ Twit barked back at him.

  ‘What laws?’

  ‘The law of the gallows,’ snarled Twit.

  ‘The gallows law,’ repeated everyone in astonishment – surely Twit was not that stupid.

  Mr Woodruffe reminded Isaac as he stood, searching his memory. ‘The gallows law runs thus,’ he said. ‘Any may invoke the law of the gallows – if a willing spouse can be found beneath the hanging tree then the accused, whatever the crime, will be reprieved.’

  ‘A spouse!’ mocked Isaac. ‘Who would marry a witch?’

  ‘I will,’ said Twit proudly. ‘I invoke the law and offer my paw in marriage to Audrey Brown.’

  The crowd rippled in discontent and Nicodemus hissed in Madame Akkikuyu’s ear.

  ‘No! The girl must not marry -it will bind her up in the Greenlaws and she shall be useless to me. Stop this now.’

  The fortune-teller entered the circle, but instead of obeying Nicodemus she said, ‘Mousey must marry follow the law of your Green. Join the two before you feel his anger.’ In the centre of all the fieldmice the tattoo dared not move on her ear but it glared at her venomously.

  ‘Imbecile!’ it whispered harshly.

  Isaac stared at the rat in disbelief. He had made a brass for the destruction of Audrey at her request. Why was she changing sides now? ‘But she is to blame!’ he said blankly. ‘Are you telling me now that she must go free?’.

  ‘She must, it is the law!’ demanded Twit. ‘I call on the Green Mouse to witness all that goes on here. He shall know who disobeys him.’

  The crowd murmured. There was no getting away from it. If Twit married Audrey then she could not be hanged.’

  ‘No,’ cried Mr Nep as he sensed their doubt. ‘We cannot let her go unpunished. My son is dead.’

  It was Isaac who answered him. ‘Silence Nep. The way has been shown, though it grieves me no less than you. We must obey the law or we ourselves are guilty. But hear me, tomorrow we shall drive Twit and the witch to our borders and banish them. Then if any find them crossing our lands they have the right to do with them as they see fit. They are outcasts.’ He turned back to Twit and Audrey.

  ‘Now, take the witch’s paw in yours, William Scuttle,’ said Mr Nettle.

  Twit looked at her. She was much calmer now and she stared back at him with gratitude. ‘Do you mean to go through with it?’ she asked him.

  ‘If’n I don’t marry ’ee Aud they’ll lynch yer,’ he replied.

  ‘I don’t know what to say,’ Audrey mumbled.

  ‘Just say “yes” an’ save yer neck,’ advised Twit.

  ‘Kneel ye,’ ordered Isaac, ‘and humble thyselves before the Green Mouse.’ Audrey felt someone cut the ropes which bit into her wrists and she dropped to her knees beside Twit.

  ‘Dost thou, William Scuttle, take unto thyself this mouse, Audrey Brown? To cherish through the Winter and revel with in the summer? Forswearing all others until the grass grows green over you both?’

  ‘I does,’ said Twit.

  ‘Who blesses the husband?’ asked Isaac. It was usual at mouse weddings for both the bride and groom to receive a blessing. This could not come from their families. It was usually friends who performed the task, but at this torchlit marriage everyone wondered who would dare bless the union of a witch and a fool.

  ‘I do,’ said a solemn voice and Mr Woodruffe shook off his guards. He wriggled his paws free of the ropes and stood before Twit.

  ‘May the Green bless and protect you,’ he said with feeling and he placed his right paw on Twit’s shoulder.

  ‘Thank ’ee,’ replied Twit gratefully.

  Then it was Audrey’s turn.

  Dost thou, Audrey Brown,’ intoned Isaac bitterly, ‘take unto thyself this mouse William Scuttle? To cherish through the winter and revel with in the summer? Forswearing all others until the grass grows green over you both?’

  Audrey tearfully thought of Piccadilly. Sobbing she uttered, ‘I do.’

  ‘Who blesses the wife?’ Isaac looked around. No-one said anything. He smiled. There might be a hanging yet, for no marriage was complete without the two blessings, and he who blessed the groom could not bless the bride as well.

  Arthur gazed at the fieldmice pleadingly. ‘Please, someone, anyone, don’t let Audrey die.’ But the mice shuffled their feet and hung their heads.

  Isaac chuckled and was about to pronounce the ceremony void when a figure stepped up to Audrey.

  ‘I bless mouselet!’ declared Madame Akkikuyu. Isaac glared at her but the fortune-teller came and knelt before her friend and said tenderly, ‘May his mighty Greenness bless and protect you for always, and may you forgive Akkikuyu. Remember that she love you and want you to be happy in summer light – it’s all I ever wanted, my mouselet.’ She leaned over to kiss Audrey’s forehead.

  ‘Thank you,’ she wept.

  A big tear streaked down Akkikuyu’s nose. ‘Ach! I always blub at weddings.’

  Isaac concluded the ceremony.

  ‘May the Mighty Green join these two together, through winter, harvest, youth and age. Let no creature come between them for now they are under the Green’s great mantle.’ He sucked his teeth and said, ‘Rise Scuttle and Scuttle.’

  ‘You better be gone before midday tomorrow,’ shouted Mr Nep, ‘or I swear I’ll hurl you both into the fire myself.’ The crowd began to disperse, and drift back into the field.

  Twit’s parents rushed forward and hugged their son and daughter-in-law. Gladwin was tearful, but Elijah was proud. ‘There’s another Mr and Mrs Scuttle round here now,’ he beamed.

  ‘Not for long though Dad,’ said Twit. ‘Aud may be my wife but I don’t ’spect her to stay wi’ me.’ He turned to the new Mrs Scuttle and said softly. ‘’S all right Aud. I know you aren’t keen on me in that way so p’raps it’s best if’n you go home tomorrow eh?’

  ‘What about you Twit?’ Audrey asked. ‘And I can’t go home anyway – what about Oswald and the Starwife’s bargain?’

  ‘Let’s go and have something to eat,’ suggested Arthur, ‘then we can decide what to do.’ Under the yew tree Madame Akkikuyu stood alone, snivelling into her shawl and drying her eyes.

  ‘You fool,’ rebuked Nicodemus. ‘You interfering cretin! We might have had the girl if you had not blessed her. My plans are ruined now – Audrey Brown has been tied to the Greenlaws, the spell cannot work’

  ‘Mouselet name Scuttle now,’ checked Akkikuyu sadly, ‘and I glad you not use her – she my friend. Akkikuyu not have many friends, mouselet only one.’

  The tattoo writhed with frustration. ‘Curse you you Moroccan ditch drab. The spell I have prepared needs a female sacrifice, one who is of age but has no mousebrass. Am I to be marooned in the abyss till the end of time?’

  Madame Akkikuyu stared out along the bank. There sat Alison Sedge, miserable and dejected. She had longed for Audrey’s death and now her enemy lived and was married. With Jenkin dead, Alison knew she would never marry.

  Akkikuyu frowned as Alison stood up. No mouse-brass hung from her neck.

  ‘Nico,’ she whispered. ‘Akkikuyu find another.’

  The tattoo stared out and grinned. ‘Excellent. We shall perform the ritual tonight. Prepare the girl for sacrifice.’

  14. The Sacrifice

  Alison Sedge kicked the tufts of dry, scruffy grass and turned to follow the others back into the field.

  ‘Hoy, mousey, wait for I.’ The rat’s voice startled her. Crossly she waited for Madame Akkikuyu to come out from under the yew tree.

  ‘What you want?’ asked Alison rudely. She did not like Madame Akkikuyu – she blamed her for bringing Audrey to Fennywolde in the first place.

  The fortune-teller approached, smiling sweetly. ‘Let me help poor mousey,’ she said. ‘Ah, but mousey has lost pretty dangler. Where it go?’

  ‘I got rid of it!’ snapped Alison. What business was it of the rat anyway? ‘What do you mean you could help me?’ she added in
a sullen tone.

  Madame Akkikuyu walked round the girl and sprinkled fragments of yellow leaves over her. In a secret, low whisper she said, ‘I have spells mousey, bring disaster on your enemies.’

  The mouse regarded her through the screen of fluttering leaves. What was she up to? wondered Alison. ‘What enemies?’ she asked stubbornly.

  The rat moved closer. ‘Those who rob you of suitors – those who get in your way sweet mousey. Jumped up girls not as pretty as you.’

  ‘You mean that town mouse?’ she interrupted. ‘Yes, I don’t like her, but if you hadn’t blessed the marriage back then she’d have danced the gallows jig. What are you going on about now, you barmy so-and-so?’

  ‘Akkikuyu stop hanging yes, because that too quick and easy for her. She too evil! She put spell on Jenky boy to make him fall for her. She led him into open and let Mahooot make him owl bait.’

  Alison exploded with rage. ‘Is this true? I ought to go and tear her apart! All that butter-wouldn’t-melt routine. I hate her. I knew my Jenkin didn’t really fancy her. Tell me what I can do.’

  The fortune-teller grinned. Alison Sedge had been an easy fish to catch. It would be easy throwing her on the fire – how could she loathe her mouselet so much?

  ‘Akkikuyu will cast spell. You help, go get wood for bonfire.’

  Alison hurriedly ran to collect some sticks.

  ‘Well Nico,’ the rat began, ‘what you think?’

  ‘She is perfect Akkikuyu,’ gloated the voice, ‘did you feel her spite and anger? They are strong, raw emotions. Her life essence will be most eagerly received by the gate-keepers of the abyss. Tonight I shall be free again.’

  Akkikuyu cleared a space on the high bank. She gathered some stones and arranged them in a circle, leaving it incomplete so that she could enter. She waited for Alison to return, then, once all the wood they needed was within, she sealed the ring with them inside. ‘Now mousey,’ she said, ‘we must not break through the stones till spell complete.’ She began to build the bonfire. From her bag she pulled out the skull of the frog she had killed and placed it at the heart of the framework. Then around it she sprinkled the magical herbs and flowers that she had carefully gathered at night. At last the fortune-teller announced that all was ready. She stood back and admired her handiwork with Alison. It was a tall pyramid of dry branches and twigs, a satisfying result to her labours.

  ‘Light it,’ urged Alison, ‘cast your spell.’

  Nicodemus chuckled to himself. ‘Give her the crystal,’ he muttered to Akkikuyu.

  The rat brought from her bag the glass globe and caressed it lovingly with her claws. ‘Stand there and hold this!’ she told Alison.

  Alison took the smooth globe in her palms and gazed at it wondrously. What a marvellous mysterious object! How lovely it was with those swirls of colour in its centre.

  ‘What is it?’ she gasped.

  ‘It is my delight – my peace,’ Akkikuyu replied sadly, ‘and soon it must smash.’

  ‘Will you light the fire now?’ asked Alison. She was feeling impatient and wanted to get on with the ceremony. Akkikuyu nodded. ‘Yes, I light fire, but first my Nico must be safe, from heat.’

  ‘Nico?’ asked Alison suspiciously. ‘Who is Nico?’ She stared around her, trying to see who Akkikuyu was talking about.

  ‘I AM NICODEMUS!’ cried the tattoo triumphantly. Alison whirled Around, then stepped back in alarm.

  ‘The face! The face on your ear – It moved, it spoke!’ she spluttered aghast.

  Nicodemus mocked her: ‘I move – I speak. Hah hah hah.’

  Alison had had enough. She turned and tried to run from the circle of stones but a wall of invisible force prevented her escape. She howled in dismay but Nicodemus laughed all the more.

  ‘Mousey not leave now ring complete,’ tutted Akkikuyu. ‘You not listen mousey. Now, Nico we must begin yes?’

  ‘Truly,’ said the voice still, chuckling as Alison twisted and turned round the circle in vain. ‘I shall project my essence into the heart of your crystal, there shall I be safe from the heat of the fire. I hope that I shall still be able to talk to you, but my powers will be much weakened by the glass.’ The tattoo screwed up its ugly face and became quite still.

  A black cloud moved over the stars. Alison stared at the crystal in her paws and saw a pin prick of cold blue light glimmer there. Slowly it began to pulse. The light grew and filled the globe until the crystal shone like a star fallen to earth. The glass became freezing to the touch yet Alison could not let go. Breathlessly and with great difficulty the voice spoke again; it was nearer yet somehow it echoed hollowly. ‘Quickly Akkikuyu,’ it said with an effort, an edge of fear creeping into it, ‘light the fire now! The spell must be completed soon or the keepers of the gate will draw me back and bind me ever stronger. I have but a little time here unless the exchange is made.’ Akkikuyu lit the bonfire.

  The wood was so dry that it kindled easily, and soon the flames leapt up greedily. The heat singed her whiskers and scorched Alison’s face but the crystal remained icy to the touch.

  ‘Aaagghh,’ said the voice, ‘even here I feel the fire! You must hurry. Throw in the mousebrass, Akkikuyu.’

  The fortune-teller fished out the brass that Isaac had made for her. It was a twisted, ugly thing, made in a spirit of hatred and vengeance. She cast it into the white-hot heart of the crackling flame.

  ‘Hear me Arash and Iriel,’ cried Nicodemus. ‘I send you a soul in my stead. A female unprotected by the Greenlaws. Accept her and let me go free.’

  A deep rumble boomed in the night. Thunder was approaching. On the horizon, fingers of lightning zig-zagged down between heaven and earth. A freezing gale blew up, but protected by the circle of stones, the bonfire remained unaffected. Madame Akkikuyu threw some powders into the blaze and a ball of blue flame burst into the darkening sky.

  ‘Prepare the vessel Rameth so I might live again!’ Nicodemus screamed above the clamouring storm.

  Akkikuyu hurled more powder into the flame. A blue column of smoke shot up into the air. The fortune-teller was frightened. She had not expected anything like this at all. If it carried on the fieldmice would come soon to see what was going on. She winced and clutched her stomach. Something was happening to her . . . something dreadful . . . A terrible pain ripped at her insides. She doubled over in agony, and as she did so, she caught sight of her own body, and cried out in horror.

  Her fur was changing colour. Instead of being a sleek coat of black, it was now a bright marmalade orange with dark stripes. The secret, closed doors of her mind were forced open and she bellowed with fear as she remembered the past, and saw through Nicodemus’ disguise.

  Nicodemus laughed amid the thunder and as he did so his voice changed – it became deeper, more sinister and absolutely evil. He crowed his triumph with insane jubilation.

  ‘Yes Akkikuyu,’ sneered the great deceiver, ‘it is I, your master returned. JUPITER has come back from eternity.’

  ‘No!’ she yammered plaintively. ‘You Nicodemus, spirit of field – Jupiter dead.’

  ‘Ha ha – I am the father of lies, Akkikuyu, you know that. You have helped to release me, I shall not forget. I intend to reward you with the highest honour that is mine to give.’

  ‘What honour?’ she asked in horror.

  ‘You have opened the door of death, Akkikuyu,’ he congratulated her, ‘but my old body has been destroyed. You shall be the new host for my dark spirit.’

  ‘Nooo!’ Akkikuyu tore at her hair and tried to flee, but like Alison she could not break out of the stone circle.

  ‘You cannot escape,’ tutted Jupiter. ‘Do you not listen? Continue with the spell!’

  ‘Never,’ she cried and slumped to the ground in a desperate heap, cringing from that terrible snarling voice. But unseen forces gripped her and the rat was dragged to her feet. Her claws were forced into her bag and a will outside her own guided them to the next ingredient. The powders were thrown into the flame.

/>   ‘Hear me Ozulmunn – bind her to me.’

  Akkikuyu’s eyes stung and their black orbs trembled. A thin film of gold closed over them until only narrow slits were left. Her ears were pulled out of shape and she felt her tail grow thick stripey fur. Jupiter’s evil spells were changing her into a cat!

  She threw open her mouth to scream but all that came out was a pitiful ‘Miaow’.

  Madame Akkikuyu clapped her ginger claws over her mouth to stop the terrible noise.

  ‘Now, Akkikuyu, throw the girl into the fire, then smash the globe!’ commanded Jupiter.’

  The rat’s feet dragged themselves towards Alison.

  The mouse had witnessed everything with incredulous despair. She cried for pity as the striped ginger rat lurched towards her. But there was nowhere to escape.

  ‘Throw her in, Akkikuyu!’ Jupiter ordered severely.

  Madame Akkikuyu blinked her tawny eyes and took hold of the mouse.

  ‘Please, please!’ begged Alison as the rat pulled her towards the flames.

  The lightning flashed and crackled overhead. Thunder shook the ground and Jupiter laughed.

  ‘Please don’t throw me in,’ pleaded Alison, ‘please, have pity on me!’

  With her golden eyes it seemed to Akkikuyu that for a moment Audrey stood before her. ‘Mouselet,’ she said. ‘Go, run free.’

  ‘I can’t,’ Alison wailed.

  Jupiter heard them and scoffed. ‘You girl, have no choice. You have an appointment with the keepers of the gates of Hell. Dispatch her Akkikuyu.’

  Madame Akkikuyu thought of the eternal torment that lay before her should Jupiter take possession of her body. She let go of Alison and shouted, ‘Mouselet my friend! It is I who have choice. I will not serve you again! Akkikuyu is free!’ With one terrific leap, Madame Akkikuyu cast herself into the middle of the fire.

  The rat’s ginger fur became black once more . . . As the blaze roared up, Akkikuyu’s voice was heard one last time from the heart of the flames, ‘Akkikuyu tried so hard mouselet . . .’ and with that she died.