The Deptford Mice 1: The Dark Portal (25 page)

The mirth that the sight of this brought quickly died away as flames flared inside the globe and two eyes of red fire blazed out.

The voice of Jupiter boomed over their astonished heads.

‘I AM YOUR LORD.’

The rats fell on their faces in terror. They had never witnessed his full wrath before, or his powers. Oswald trembled and sank to his knees, stricken with horror.

‘I am your Lord!’ Jupiter called again. ‘I have been generous and lenient in the past but now you have angered me. I should bring a terrible doom on you all.’

Morgan raised the burning crystal above his head and the light from it shone out blindingly.

‘Without me you would revert to sucking the slime from the walls as you did when I found you. I have blessed you with the thirst for blood and murder – yet you would rise against me.’ Jupiter laughed. ‘I know who the ringleaders are. Behold my vengeance.’

Skinner looked nervously around him. In his wildest imaginings he had not thought Jupiter was this powerful.

A halo of white fire suddenly formed around the crystal, then shot out in an intense stream of death. Skinner screamed as the white inferno consumed him. The rats around fell back in fear.

Skinner crackled and sparkled, writhing and waving his arms about in agony. His squeals filled the mine and echoed long after he had died. Abruptly the fire vanished and a smoking, charred skeleton collapsed on the ground. The peeler fell on top, smashing the brittle charcoal bones.

Gasps of horror spread through the crowd.

‘Now I tell you to return to your work before I have to demonstrate my anger further. Do not fan the flames of my wrath.’

As one, the rats jumped to their feet and scurried back to their posts.

Morgan chuckled. Now he had the power he had always craved. No one would dare challenge his position now. The fear of His Lordship would keep them in check.

For the first time in his nasty life, Morgan felt secure and safe.

The rats worked swiftly. The roof-fall was quickly cleared away and the suffocated bodies flung to one side. Smiler charged at the mine face with renewed vigour and the dirt flew up around him.

Oswald picked up his spoon and dug speedily. He dared not believe what he had just seen and his mind was reeling. Surely nothing could defeat Jupiter. Morgan remained on his lofty vantage point observing the work. The crystal was still in his claws and the eyes continued to burn brightly.

‘Do not think this is a profitless task,’ Jupiter boomed. ‘There will be rewards for all of you at the finish. Once the tunnel is completed the treasure that lies under Blackheath shall be yours to enjoy for ever.’ He chuckled wickedly. ‘Morgan, return to me at my altar. Another problem approaches, one which I shall crush with the utmost pleasure.’

The crystal became dark as the fires within died. Morgan jumped down off the brick and made his way through the mine. He was pleased to see how the rats bowed reverently and saluted as he went past. He had achieved his life’s ambition at long last and he revelled in the feeling of joy it brought.

Oswald was troubled – he had heard Jupiter’s words about the treasure and they worried him, though he did not know why. He dug away thoughtfully. Somewhere a nagging doubt was tickling him and would not go away. He scratched his head and wondered.

Smiler smashed through the soil, his great claws ripping out vast clumps of earth. Then one of his claws snapped and flew off. He cursed and inspected the rough soil before him. He picked out some stones and wiped some dirt away. Hastily he withdrew his claws. ‘Acchh, it sshhtingsshh,’ he said, examining his skin. It was growing red and sore.

‘The sshoil burnsshh!’ he exclaimed.

Several rats went up to him and peered at his burns, then they stared at the mine face.

‘Smells queer,’ sniffed one of them.

‘Oohh, it burns me nose,’ yelped another after having a good whiff. He rubbed his snout.

‘Get tools and see what it is,’ they suggested.

Oswald watched them as he racked his brains. He knew the answer was there if only he could find it. Something in the soil that burned . . .

He tried to think back to when he was younger and Master Oldnose had stood before him and the rest of the class of young mice. He had told them of something terrible that had happened many, many years ago. Something to do with Blackheath, but what?

Oswald bit his tongue forcing himself to remember.

The rats meanwhile had scraped some soil away with spoons and revealed a large white boulder. It was the biggest they had yet come across.

‘Lever it out,’ they called and pushed their spoons underneath it.

There was something very strange about the boulder. It was perfectly round with odd, wiggly lines marked into it.

‘Heave,’ the rats cried. They all pushed down on their spoons. Nothing happened.

‘Again!’ The stone budged slightly.

All at once Oswald remembered. Blackheath – of course! Long, long ago there had been a terrible plague – the Black Death. The bodies of the dead had been buried under BIackheath and covered with horrible, burning quicklime. It was this that was burning Smiler’s paws.

‘Stop, stop,’ cried Oswald to the rats. ‘You don’t know what’s happening – we’ll all die – stop!’

‘Shut it Pasty. Heave lads,’ cried the rats. With one last effort the boulder moved, the soil rattled down, around it and the great white object rolled out.

It was a grinning human skull.

A violent rumble shook the mine as the face gave way and other skulls and bleached bones fell free. Rising with the dust of the disturbed earth was a yellow mist.

It billowed out, curling through the empty eye sockets and seeping through the gaps in teeth. In the dense fog there were ugly spectral forms.

Jupiter had made the Plague a living thing with his black arts and the mist was writhing with evil life. Oswald shrieked and fled.

Panting heavily he charged down the mine.

Smiler looked at the bones, dumbfounded. The first skull teetered on a chunk of brick, rocking from side to side as though it were shaking its head at him. Then he saw the mist and the wicked faces that formed there. His eyes opened wide as the fog swirled around his legs and stole up behind him. Two smoky arms reached out from the pale ghostly sea and transparent fingers covered his face. Smiler cried out and tried to pull the creature off but his claws simply passed through the smoke. Higher the phantom writhed until Smiler was staring into unclean eyes full of unquenchable hunger. He could not struggle. The Black Death overpowered him and he fell to the floor, the fiend seeping down his mouth. Smiler’s mighty tail gave one last thrash before he died. It smacked the skull and sent it spinning down the mine.

How Oswald ran. All the rats were looking up in bewilderment. They saw an eerie vapour slowly creep along the ground, engulfing, enveloping, soaking into nooks and niches.

When the mist reached them they tried to step out of it but it clung to them stubbornly and would not shake off. Then they would choke and gasp and fall down, their faces black and swollen. The fog flowed over their bodies.

Down came the skull, crashing and rolling, bouncing off the walls and flattening the rats who dithered in its way.

Oswald heard it rumbling behind him and he looked over his shoulder in terror. He saw the skull gaining, its grisly face turning as it spun. Teeth chipped and smashed when it struck the ground. As it passed beneath the torches the flickering light seemed to make it wink maliciously.

Oswald tried to run faster. The insidious mist was not far behind and the plague spectres rose from it like foam on the sea. He heard the chokes and desperate strangled cries of the rats as the plague touched them. He knew that this was the eternal reward Jupiter had promised.

The other entrance to the mine appeared ahead and Oswald took heart at the sight. He was very weary, his energies nearly spent. Only the thunder of the skull chasing him kept him going. Vaguely he recognised the small passage that Finn had led him to as he raced by. The yellow fog would seep in there and cover the rat’s body.

CRASH!

The skull bounced on a rock and snicked Oswald’s tail as it landed. He put on an extra burst of speed.

The entrance was close now. With one last leap Oswald jumped clear of the mine. He landed clumsily and struggled to keep his balance.

Oswald was on a narrow ledge. Below him water surged thickly. He turned to face the skull, which seemed to laugh as it rushed towards him. An almighty thud rattled the ledge.

The skull had plugged the entrance completely. Not a gap or chink was there to be seen around it. The demonic mist would not be able to escape. Oswald breathed heavily in relief and bowed his head – he was safe.

He glanced upwards and froze. On the adjoining wall of this large chamber was the altar of Jupiter.

A hot sulphurous wind began to blow through the sewers of Deptford. It blasted down long-forgotten passages and buffeted the hanging weeds.

Audrey hurried along behind Madame Akkikuyu. The warm, dry air made it difficult to breathe. ‘It’s so hot,’ she gasped. Her ribbon was damp and dangled limply around her neck. When she touched the sewer wall next to her she drew back in alarm. ‘The bricks are hot!’ she exclaimed. ‘What is happening?’

Madame Akkikuyu replied without turning round. ‘He is growing, mouselet,’ she said knowingly. ‘His fiery claw reaches out – the Prince, he make ready.’

Audrey was afraid. Her palms were sticky and she nibbled the edge of her lace collar nervously. What doom was she going to? Jupiter himself awaited her, and she felt so small against him. There seemed to be no way out for her. She could not escape: something was guiding her small, delicate feet towards him. It was as if this meeting had been decided long ago fated since before she had been born. Now she was merely carrying out the part set for her.

The sewer ledge was getting hot now. Audrey had to hop around to keep from burning, and the silver bells on her tail jangled wildly. Madame Akkikuyu showed no signs of having noticed the rise in temperature. Audrey glanced at the rat’s large feet and saw how leathery and covered in calluses they were. It would take a long time for the heat to work its way through them.

As they drew ear to the altar chamber it became even more stifling. Surely the legends about Jupiter breathing fire were true, thought Audrey. He must be belching out flames like some demonic dragon.

The sewer water had even begun to steam, and wisps of it curled up and rose into the hot air, gathering about the tunnel ceiling. Damp sizzled in the brickwork and moss withered on the walls. Soon even Madame Akkikuyu loosened her shawl and mopped her face with it.

‘Like when Akkikuyu very young,’ she said. ‘Now mouselet – we nearly there.’

The fortune-teller passed through a small arch, and following, Audrey found herself cramped in an ante-room. It was dirty and smelled dreadful. A pile of old straw in one corner showed that someone occasionally slept there.

Madame Akkikuyu’s crystal was there too, nestling in the straw like some magical egg.

‘Master Stumpo kip here,’ Akkikuyu said. ‘The old spotted one has to be near the High One at all times. ‘But for how much longer?’ Akkikuyu wonders.

The fortune-teller paced over to the crystal and popped it into one of her bags. Then she stretched herself to her full height and puffed out her chest, bursting with her own importance.

‘I have the trust of His Majesty. He learns me dark secrets and I deliver you to Him, so bargain is kept. I am worthy of the black knowledge.’ She smiled for a brief moment, happily contemplating the power that would be hers. When she broke out of her reverie she looked down at Audrey with something approaching pity.

‘Oh poor pretty mousey,’ she sighed heavily and blinked her coal black eyes. ‘Why you get mixed up in things too great for you?’

Audrey considered the rat and this new mood that had seized her. Carefully she said, ‘You could let me go. It’s not too late.’

Madame Akkikuyu shook her head sadly. ‘Oh no my mouselet, too late it is. Roads only go one way – no back turns allowed, never.’ The rat gazed into space. ‘Akkikuyu could never return – no,’ she whispered softly to herself. ‘Paths are made and you must walk them Akkikuyu know this. Akkikuyu done many things in life, many bad things. The way back is locked for me. Happenings happen: you can not have say in all you do. Make best with what you got.’

Audrey broke in cautiously, ‘Or the worst.’

‘Don’t be wise,’ the rat snapped, flustered by the large staring eyes of the little mouse before her. ‘Little do you know of Akkikuyu, you in your cosy hole with gentle mamma. What you know of rat life? We not like you mouseys, we different.’

Audrey shook her head. ‘I don’t think you’re so very different.’

The fortune-teller backed away disconcerted. ‘Akkikuyu is rare creature – none like her. You tiny mouselet do not know what turns in her head.’ She faltered, her thoughts far away in the past, reliving old moments. Her first tentative steps to love and the sneering ridicule she had received had stung like a whip and crippled her heart.