Chapter 16

Living Like Royalty

"Jonathan did that?" Mrs. Brisby uttered, her face that of surprise as the image in the Spinner faded to the neon green.

"Yes, and without him, I doubt that we could have done it," Nicodemus explained. "The steel frame was strong, albeit the latch attached to it mostly prevented us from escaping as it was far out of our reach. We were glad that Jonathan had been among us."

Chris could still feel his pulse thundering in his chest, his fingers tingling from the amount of magic and wind carried toward him and Mrs. Brisby. There was so much to process, like the fact that the scientists were the reasons why these rats were intelligent. Chris had a lot he wanted to say, but it was as if all the words begging to leave his tongue were tangled up like a ball of yarn, only for him to find a loose end finally and spoke the first thing that came to mind.

"While I still don't understand how I'm involved in the story, what happened after you escaped NIMH?" He asked

"Ah, after we escaped, it was the beginning of our journey that would last for two years," Nicodemus provided. "Parts of it were pleasant—it was a joyful feeling, at first, just to be free again—and parts of it were terrible. But we did have some happy times and some pieces of good luck, two in particular, that help explain how we got here and our plans now."

In the middle of the device, the Spinner began weaving more imagery, and Chris and Mrs. Brisby observed it once more as Nicodemus proceeded with the story.

"It was early summer, around nighttime, when we got out, and it was very dark. Though it was, we had no trouble getting down the side of the building."

A few rats disposed of the evidence that did them well for their escape down a drain spout before joining their companions. The escape party then soundlessly scaled down the building using the waterspout and some dangling ivy, like thieves in the night.

"There were downspouts in the corners with plenty of toeholds, and a little lower, there was ivy. We were all good climbers, and there was moonlight to see by."

The group dropped down to the ground at a height that wouldn't get them injured or killed, and they all succeeded without alerting anyone from NIMH. Quietly, they stole through the night, staying on high alert should anyone eerily familiar spot them. They were free now but had yet to get as far as they could from NIMH.

"In less than fifteen minutes, we were on the ground. Staying in the darkest shadows, under the bushes when we could, we sped away from NIMH, not knowing or caring at first what direction we were going. Nobody saw us. During the next few weeks, we lived as we could. In a way, we had to learn how to get along all over again, for although the world outside the laboratory was the same, we were different. We were reduced to eating from dumps and garbage cans a couple of times. But knowing how to read, we quickly learned to recognize signs on buildings."

The Spinner presented the party still on the move, traveling most of the hours, but never disregarded their health. As a team, they scavenged out whatever food they could find, like at the grocery stores, supermarkets, etc., and with their newly acquired reading skill, they could discern signs. For instance, if they wanted some fruit at a supermarket, they were able to find it in the produce aisle just by skimming the big letters. They tried to avoid taking too much food from where the humans were usually found and only took a certain amount that would not draw any attention to themselves. The only times the group took whatever food they could claim without fear of the humans trapping or exterminating them was when they scoured through the garbage—frankly, though, they preferred the food that wasn't tainted.

Whenever it was decided to call it a day, the remaining rats and two mice would scope out the area for a place to recharge their batteries. Sometimes, it was a cave, an attic, a crawlspace, cavity walls, etc., and whenever they went to get some shut-eye, the rodents would take turns being on watch duty and would alert the others if they needed to abandon their hideout if there was any sign of danger. It was better than NIMH, though.

"Occasionally, we came upon other rats, and a few times we talked with them, but not for long. After just a few words, they would look at us strangely and edge away. Somehow, they could tell that we were different. So, we were set apart from even our own kind.

The group was minding their own business, snacking on some food, when they noticed a colony of rats approaching. The two parties greeted each other and struck up a conversation. However, within a few minutes, the large colony of rats started to feel uneasy with the way the former rodents were speaking of such things, like the fact that they came from a place called NIMH, not to mention their burly appearance compared to the latter rodents' puny appearance. Noticing their discomfort, the group said their farewells to the colony and went their separate ways.

"It was while we were in the country that we had our first important stroke of luck. After nearly four months of freedom and constant roving, we had just about decided to find a place to settle down—if not permanently, at least for the winter. We thought that it should be in the country but not too far from a town so that we would have access to grocery stores as well as barns and gardens."

A meeting was held to discuss their options as far as accommodations went. There were agreements and disagreements between sides—one of which concerned their kleptomania genes that most wanted to reign in and abate—and the meeting dragged on for most of the day until it was decided how they would live for the time being until a better option came in the open. Some were satisfied with the outcome; others were not.

"I soon began to wonder and worry somewhat about the fact that whatever we ate, whatever we needed, must always be stolen. Rats had always lived that way. I often questioned why that would be. I talked to some of the others about this. It was the beginning of a discontent and an idea that kept growing, although slowly."

The Spinner spun out the rats, Jonathan and Mr. Ages trekking through the woods at the crack of dawn. Most of them were fatigued from waking up early and because of the days' worth of wayfaring. It was now a different season: autumn. Different colored leaves skittered in the crisp air, and occasionally, the groups' feet crunched through a bed of dead leaves. The scent of amber, musk, sandalwood, and warm vanilla drifted to their olfactories, and they all welcomed it as it was like the fragrance of freedom, making them reminisce about the good times. It was still better than the unvaried senses and secluded cages they'd been used to back at NIMH, making it all the more reason they would never return to that prison. The scientists would no longer have the satisfaction of using them as test subjects.

"One day, in the season of autumn, while we were still on a quest for a place to live for the time being, we were walking through the woods until we came across something we never thought possible for us, almost as if our answers were heard. A house with no one occupying it."

A clearing appeared to be coming into view, but the closer they drew, the more the party realized there were more. They shuffled onwards, and at first, some shrubbery obscured their view, but upon moving aside most of it and moving into the open, their eyes settled on the biggest house they'd ever seen. Beyond a vine-wrapped gate loomed a magnificent manor surrounded by lush landscaping.

The rodents were agape.

It was a true Victorian beauty, with gingerbread accents, steep gabled roofs, and grand half-moon bay windows. A tower soared as high as a church steeple from the far right wing, keeping a watchful eye over the ample grounds beneath. It was vast and beautiful, brimming with mystery, like it might exist on the border between this world and a more magical one. But the house seemed far less like a fairytale and more like an oppressive, impenetrable maze poised to test the group's resolve.

"As we walked, we reached a very high fence of wrought iron, the kind that looks like a row of black iron spears fastened together, with pointed tops—an expensive fence it was, surrounding a large estate with a big, expensive-looking manor in the middle, and well-kept grounds and gardens. We walked along past this fence until we reached a gate."

They swept out the premises until they stumbled upon a padlocked gate. The party then spoke amongst themselves as far as the estate went. It seemed safe enough to settle in, but the only question was if someone still lived there. A few went to do some sleuthing, and after some time, it was deduced that it was safe and accessible for the taking—for now, at least.

"We realized that nobody was living in there. What mostly gave that away was the padlocked gate, the dead weeds standing outside of it, not even bent, no tire tracks to be seen, and the mailbox in front, hanging open, empty. The house was quiet and deserted."

Daylight faded fast, and soon nighttime took its shift, and hundreds and hundreds of stars strewn like spilled salt across the blackness. The group had camouflaged themselves in the bushes, waiting to see if anyone would show up, and meander into the estate in case they were wrong and were only acting acutely. Suddenly, to their surprise, lights awakened through each window, one at a time, and everyone flicked their gazes at each other, puzzled. Was someone already in the manor? But the strange thing was they didn't see any human shadows thrown on the walls by the lights. How could one explain this phenomenon?

"We turned into the grounds, moving cautiously, and from beneath some bushes, we watched the windows. As dusk fell, lights came on in several of them, both upstairs and down."

It took some investigating, but after a few of the rats did some careful perusing, they reported that no one was here. Realization dawned on them. The lights had come on on their own accord.

"We realized then that it was supposed to make us think there's someone there. Automatic switches—to keep burglars away. So we went in."

The rodents then went to find a way in, and they soon came upon a worn-out window with no effort of care put into it. Bingo.

"We found a small window in the back with a cracked pane, knocked out one corner of the glass, and climbed through. At first, we planned just to look for food. Naturally, we did find some, enough to last us for a year or more."

After shattering a corner of the window open for everyone to shimmy through, they were on the hunt for food. It had been a while since the last time they ate, and their stomachs certainly weren't going to fill themselves up. After a bit of rummaging, though, they found the salvation to their rumbling stomachs: a freezer. Together, the party managed to pry open the freezer, seeing what they had to work with. They had yet to realize that the cans lining the shelves near them were only one step away from being opened and delivering them a delicious meal as well—opening food cans had always perplexed them. All it took was one certain device's magic.

"There was a big freezer, well stocked—bread, meat, vegetables, everything—and a whole room full of shelves covered with canned food. The cans, as they had in the grocery stores, baffled us at first. We could read what was in them but couldn't get it out."

Some of the rodents were examining the cans, with a couple of them scratching their heads as they tried to make sense of these abnormal cylinders until one of them mentioned a curious-looking yellow device on the counter. He went to check it out, and that was when he came to notice the instructions on it for said cans. Giving it a test run, a few of the rats went to work the contraption after getting one of the cans set up, and it came to life. It was taking the top off, easily carving through it like a pumpkin getting gutted for Halloween, and everyone gazed in awe.

"We found a machine on the kitchen counter and read the instructions on the side of it: Slide can under cutter and press switch. We tried it. The can turned slowly around in the machine, and the top had been cut free when we pulled it out."

The can was removed from the device—an electric can opener—and everyone had a look inside to see the food on the label: clam chowder. They exchanged smiles, knowing that they would have a feast tonight. With that, everyone began prepping for dinner, and no one hesitated to dig in once everything was ready.

"I'll always remember that first can that was opened; the clam chowder was divine. After we had eaten, we wandered around the house. It was a rich man's mansion, with beautiful furniture and fine rugs and carpeting on the floor. It was beyond anything we could have ever imagined."

There was so much to be/bound to be discovered in this manor, and it was foreign for the rodents to be surrounded by this much grandeur and comfort. There was a lavish foyer abounded with art and priceless baroque wonders, a collection so remarkable it would put any museum to shame. The room was anchored by a dramatic central staircase and a magnificent chandelier swaying from high above. The fixture sent a kaleidoscope of rippling light across the space, an effect like undulating waves beneath an amber sky, drizzling the stairwell, the walls, and decor in flecks of gold. Classical sculptures and marble busts gleamed from every corner, seeming to come alive in the shifting chandelier light. They scowled at the group's presence, turning up their chiseled faces, vacant eyes flashing their contempt as if they were aware that the rats and the remaining mice didn't belong here.

The party trailed down a wide hallway, passing a series of dimly lit rooms as they went. A crimson dining hall was inhabited by an impressive redwood table and twelve chairs, with a bronze effigy of Poseidon wielding his trident at its center. They moved on past a mustard music room with a golden harp shining from one corner and a sleek grand piano flashing from the other. They also arrived at a parlor, a luxury peacock-blue space home to plush couches, wingback chairs, and a grand fireplace. As they walked, the rodents peered into each room, doing their best to sponge up every minute detail.

One space in particular, however, caught their attention the most when they stalked toward it. They lingered in the room's archway, lost in the exquisite rendering of the sight. A rich, olive-green study stretched before them, teeming with antlers, rifles, and—most of all—wall-to-wall shelves stocked with leather-bound books.

"But the greatest treasure of all, for us, was in the study. There were thousands of books, about every subject you could think of. There were shelves of paperbacks, encyclopedias, histories, novels, philosophies, and textbooks of physics, chemistry, electrical engineering, and others, more than I can name. Luckily, there was even one of those small ladders-on-wheels they use in some libraries to get to the top shelves."

The Spinner then materialized the group diving into books, feeding their brains with so much knowledge. Whether it be doing research like on medicine, learning some history, reading a good story, or simply picking up on a new word, it was like traveling and living through the pages without moving their feet. Everyone was relaxed with no worries in the world, peacefully pouring over words upon words.

"Well, we fell on those books with even more appetite than on the food, and in the end, we moved into the house and stayed all winter. We could do that, it turned out, without much fear of discovery."

A table laden with newspaper cuttings appeared in the Spinner, most showing a man and woman who had just gotten married. The man, in particular, seemed to be very well known.

"We learned from some newspaper cuttings I found on the desk in the study: They were about a wedding, and most of them showed pictures of a newly married couple leaving a house to begin their honeymoon. The groom was a Mr. Gordon Boniface—"heir to the Gould-Stetson fortune"—and the house they were leaving was the house we were in. According to the clippings, they were going on a trip all the way around the world. They were coming back to the Boniface Estate in May. Until then, it was our estate."

The Spinner then produced a young-looking man. He was shown to be briefly checking the house before getting to work, tending the gardens and the lawns, and all the while, he was oblivious to the fact that there were rats and two mice occupying the mansion for the time being, keeping it pristine, and making sure he never caught sight of them.

"There was a caretaker-gardener who came three times a week, and once in a while, he would check the house in a cursory sort of way. That is, he would unlock the front door, glance around to see that everything looked all right, and then lock it and leave it. But he didn't live there or even stay in one of the guest rooms; he lived in a small house down the road. And we were expecting him when he came. We had figured out, from how the place was kept up, the lawns mowed, leaves raked, gardens weeded and watered, that there had to be somebody working on it. So we posted a watch and kept watching him all the time he was there. And we made sure, when he looked in the house, that everything did look all right."

The party loomed up once more in the Spinner. They were cleaning the mansion, organizing things the way they were, and getting ready to trek through the woods at night to dispose of some trash. A lot of work it was, but the best thing for them to do if they did not want anyone to discover them. But after they did, they happily went back to doing their own thing, mainly reading and even writing, before the time came for the caretaker-gardener to arrive once more for his usual routine.

"This involved a certain amount of work. We had to haul our empty tin cans and other trash at night out into a hidden place in the woods quite far from the house. We cleaned up after ourselves carefully; we learned to use the water taps and the dusting cloths we found in the kitchen closet. If the caretaker had looked more closely, he would have seen that the kitchen counters were somewhat shinier than they should have been in an empty house. But he didn't. He never even noticed the small corner of glass missing from the back window.

"And all winter, far into the night, we read books and practiced writing."

A rap came at the door before it popped open. Justin and Mr. Ages invited themselves in right as the image in the Spinner was washed over with the ripples of electricity and neon green.

"Back so soon?" Nicodemus addressed the duo.

"Soon?" Justin repeated, an amused smile pulling at his face. "It's past noon. It's lunchtime."

"Past noon!" Chris and Mrs. Brisby exclaimed at the same time.

Chris checked the time on his watch. Sure enough, it was one hour past twelve. How had the time flown by that fast?

The children must be wondering where we are, and if we'll ever return, Chris said, having a gut feeling about this.

Mrs. Brisby appeared to have been thinking the same thing as panic settled over her features.

A chuckle slipped from Justin's mouth. "I take it you were invested with what Nicodemus was imparting?"

"I guess that's a good way to put it," Chris replied, still reeling from the Spinner's extensive magic and digesting the story that had slowly been unfolding to him and Mrs. Brisby.

"Did he tell you about the Toy Tinker?"

Chris's brow pinched together. "Who?"

"That answers the question, then," Mr. Ages impassively said.

"I was just coming to that," Nicodemus said in an even tone.

"But we can't stay to hear it now," Mrs. Brisby said, trying to stay polite while it looked like she was about to have a panic attack. "My children will be waiting for their lunch."

"Not to worry, Mrs. Brisby," Justin assured the field mouse. "You and Chris will be escorted out of here in no time by a boat."

Chris gazed at Justin like he had grown two more heads. "A boat?" He asked, making sure he heard that right.

"You will see what I mean once we get there."

"Yes, do return to the children," Nicodemus said to Chris and Mrs. Brisby with no hint of impatience in his tone at all. "Family always comes first. Come by tomorrow, and we can pick up where we left off with the story and discuss the details further regarding moving the Brisby home."

Even though Chris's desires grew to hear the rest of Nicodemus's story and to gain more answers—especially since he himself is somehow involved in the story— he knew that it was better to get going before he and Mrs. Brisby kept the children waiting any further. Disappointed he was, but he supposed that they could wait until tomorrow. But the cliffhanger…

However, some things were explained for sure, like how the rats were involved with NIMH. The faintest of regret dug into his chest, for he had not exactly thought highly of rats at one point. He really had been no different from his kind. Still, after seeing for himself what the rats of NIMH were capable of and what part of their story was, he started to have some newfound respect for them, especially when most of the rats seemed to now be against stealing from the humans and were working on a Plan and were also willing to help move the Brisby home. They endured so much, as did Jonathan and Mr. Ages; they and humans were not that much different.

"Oh, thank you," Mrs. Brisby said with gratitude to Nicodemus, Justin, and Mr. Ages. "All of you, thank you so much. I only wish that there was some way we could repay you."

"None of that is necessary, Mrs. Brisby," Justin benevolently got across. "Jonathan was our friend, which makes you a friend of ours. He would've wanted us to do it anyway."

These rats really are something, Chris had to admit.

Mr. Ages cleared his throat a bit sternly, and Chris, Mrs. Brisby, and Justin could see that he was hinting at them that it was time to let Nicodemus be now.

Nicodemus doesn't look like he's irked, though, Chris wanted to say, still not understanding why Mr. Ages was getting worked up about this. But what do I know?

Seeing the look on Mr. Ages' face, Justin said to Nicodemus, "I suppose we'll be on our way now. Is there anything you may require, Nicodemus, after I escort Mrs. Brisby and Mr. Fitzgibbons out?"

"No, but thank you, Justin," Nicodemus responded, sliding his gaze to Chris and Mrs. Brisby. "Justin will wait for you both near the rosebush's entry tomorrow, and if possible, come as early as you can as we will have much to discuss."

"Of course, we can manage that," Mrs. Brisby did not hesitate to say.

Well, no sleeping in for me yet again, Chris thought, but a sacrifice he'd make for the sake of Timmy and the rest of Mrs. Brisby's children.

"Agreed," Chris vocalized.

Nicodemus dipped his head in acknowledgment. "Then I shall see you soon."

After offering their thanks and farewells, Chris and Mrs. Brisby followed Justin and Mr. Ages out. Unbeknownst to the four of them, two pairs of eyes were on them as they left Nicodemus's chamber.

"I don't get it…"

Jenner emitted a chuckle as he and his companion Sullivan watched from the shadows of their hiding spot as that tiny human and field mouse trailed after Justin and Mr. Ages. That human couldn't have come at a better time as the gears had been hastily turning in Jenner's scheming head. This was just perfect.

When the four were finally out of sight, Jenner pivoted to Sullivan, a malicious grin covering his face. "With Nicodemus out of the way, what's to stop us from taking over?" he replied to the smaller rat, shaking his fist with emphasis.

Sullivan's face was quite the opposite of Jenner's as it was one of strain. "Jenner, you can't kill Nicodemus," he tried to reason.

"No taste for blood, huh?" Jenner flicked Sullivan's mug and chuckled darkly once more. "They've taken the animal out of you."

Sullivan massaged his snout before returning his attention to the discussion, his expression remaining the way it was. "What if we're discovered?"

"Ach, listen." Jenner darted his gaze around to be sure that no one was nearby to eavesdrop on them, and once he was confident that they were in the clear, he forged on. "What if the blame were to fall on someone else?"

Sullivan's brow crinkled. "I don't follow."

"Picture this:"—Jenner put his arm around Sullivan's shoulder, gravitating his hand in front of them as if that would paint out his plan—"rather a rat that kills Nicodemus, it could be a human."

Sullivan's eyes goggled, putting two and two together. "You mean… framing the Fitzgibbons boy?"

"Precisely," Jenner said, taking pride in his plan. "It'll be like killing two birds with one stone. Nicodemus will die along with the Plan, and the Fitzgibbons boy will be behind bars. Nice and easy."

Sullivan nervously rubbed his throat as if he'd be the one that was going to die. "It's risky," he said in a small voice.

"Once that happens, we can stay here as long as we like."

"But what… what about Justin?"

Unperturbed by that question, Jenner ominously draped his cloak around himself with that grin still in place. "Leave him to me."

A/N- *Me sighing dreamily.* Can you imagine having a manor all to yourself and having the freedom to read whenever? Lol, that's certainly a dream of mine there XD

But, uh oh, looks like trouble's coming! I'll be honest: this was a tricky chapter for me to work with, especially when working with Nicodemus narrating this ongoing story and the Spinner showing that imagery. Also, you all probably noticed that a particular scene didn't appear in this chapter, and if you have watched the movie—which you likely have—you will know what I'm talking about. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about it, and that particular scene will come soon. And yes, there will be more to Nicodemus's story, and those who've read the book will likely know what'll come next. But I still hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and I will see you all soon in chapter seventeen!

Reviews:

Lelouch-Strife: Maybe, maybe not. You never know XD

Godzillafan1: You're welcome, and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter!

Anthony David Torres Jr: That's a very good possibility ;)

Vergil666: Thank you! I'm happy to know that you're enjoying it! And you can bet that it will be continued ^^

Guest: E un tardivo Buon Natale a te :D