Rayman Legends Adventures in The Secret of NIMH/Transcript

Soon there was a mysterious voice speaking and then the adventure began. "Jonathan Brisby was murdered today while helping with the Plan. It's been four years since we left NIMH, and our world is changing. We cannot stay here much longer. Jonathan was a dear friend. I am lost in knowing how to help his widow. She doesn't know anything about us or the Plan. Maybe I'm not doing anything yet. I will miss him. Jonathan, wherever you are, your thoughts should comfort her tonight. She will wait and you will not come back. Goodbye…my friend."

Suddenly, an explosion was heard.

"Mr. Ages," soon a voice called out, "Mr. Ages, is anyone at home?"

Inside a farm, a brown mouse was on her road inside, wearing some sort of red cape.

"Go away," soon another voice called out.

"Mr. Ages," the female mouse continued to call.

"What is this," soon the voice called out.

"Mr. Ages," Mrs. Brisby warned him before going to follow the voice, "can I please speak to you?"

"What," the voice asked.

"I said, can I please speak" Mrs. Brisby tried to explain to the man she came to see as he came out to what looked like some sort of machine, showing an older male mouse who seemed a little cranky, "with you? Oh, thank heavens! I'm so glad you're at home!"

"Confused machine," Mr. Ages continued to cough as he grumbled to himself, "you never know if it's going to explode!"

"Yes…I guess you wouldn't remember me…" Mrs. Brisby said to him, a bit hesitantly.

"Yes, you're Mrs. Brisby," Mr. Ages replied before he went to go back into his machine, "and I am sorry for the death of your husband. Now if you'll excuse me......"

"Mr. Ages," Mrs. Brisby called out.

"Super Jupiter, woman, what have you done," Mr. Ages asked Mrs. Brisby, now coming up behind her.

"Mr. Ages, I know you don't like visitors, but it's an emergency! Please," Mrs. Brisby begged.

Suddenly, an explosion shook the machine which knocked Mr. Ages down.

Mrs. Brisby raced after Mr. Ages and peered over the shaft's edge as the older mouse was lying in a basket suspended by a rope.

"Madam, it's an emergency," Mr. Ages warned the female mouse before pulling on the rope, sending the basket to rise up to the top of the shaft where Mrs. Brisby waited.

"Oh, Mr. Ages, my son Timothy is so sick," Mrs. Brisby frowned.

"Timmy? The one with the spider bite," Mr. Ages replied to Mrs. Brisby, "oh, just give him the pepsissiwa root, and-"

"No! No," Mrs. Brisby cried out in grief, catching him by his shirt and shaking him, "he's sick with fever!"

"Well…I guess I could fix something…" Mr. Ages said to the widowed mouse.

"OK…that's it…" Mr. Ages replied before looking sharply to her, "but don't touch anything! Understand?"

Mr. Ages took her into the basket and soon pulled on the rope to take her into the shaft.

"Yes…what's his fever," Mr. Ages asked.

"He's hot to the touch," Mrs. Brisby began to list.

"Huh…yes," Mr. Ages replied.

"He's drenched in sweat," Mrs. Brisby continued.

"My heavens," Mr. Ages grimaced.

"And there's a hoarse sound if he breathes," Mrs. Brisby said.

"A hoarse sound, you say," Mr. Ages replied before facing Mrs. Brisby, "is he having a chill?"

"Yes, he does so," Mrs. Brisby nodded.

"Did you wrap him in a blanket," Mr. Ages asked.

"Yes," Mrs. Brisby replied.

"Now come in, but keep your hands to yourself," Mr. Ages said, bringing her inside a small spot, "I'm straight in the middle of…something very reluctant."

"I understand," Mrs. Brisby said.

"Oh, do you," Mr. Ages asked before taking her to a laboratory, but many of the items were human-sized before he went over to his work table.

"Look at this mess....oh, shoo, shoo, go for it," Mr. Ages replied as he tossed off a ladybug like a cat as he faced Mrs. Brisby, "your son has pneumonia."

"Pneumonia," Mrs. Brisby asked concernedly.

"It's not uncommon, but you can die from it," Mr. Ages replied as he mixed powders and herbs into a bowl, grinding them with a pestle.

"Oh, please, dear heavens, no," Mrs. Brisby said.

"Yes. Your son must stay in bed," Mr. Ages added in agreement, "bundle him up."

"Yes," Mrs. Brisby nodded from that.

Mr. Ages pulled a string running over his head, and the bunsen burner turned to high, heating the fluid inside a large flask. A tube ran from the flask to just above their heads as the fluid expanded, forcing a single drop out of the tube soon before the older mouse caught it in his bowl. "Don't go outside....." he advised the widowed mouse.

"But how long must" Mrs. Brisby began.

"Three weeks," Mr. Ages replied as he poured some mixes together, "he cannot be moved for at least three weeks."

"But moving day is almost here," Mrs. Brisby frowned.

"He has to stay in bed. Now, mix this--this powder in a broth and make him drink it," Mr. Ages added as he poured the contents of the bowl into an envelope before handing it to the widowed mouse, "it'll bring down the fever."

"Oh, bless you, sir," Mrs. Brisby replied thankfully.

"And bless you, you'll need it," Mr. Ages warned her before dismissing her, "now you have to excuse me, you know the road out."

Mr. Ages led her out to the door.

"Oh, sure," Mrs. Brisby said before looking to Mr. Ages, "thanks again."

"Shoo, shoo, shoo," Mr. Ages urged her out the door, "go ahead now. Go ahead."

"Thank you so---" Mrs. Brisby said before the door locked shut in her face, "very much. Farewell."

As Mrs. Brisby began to make her road to her place, she ended up in a deep forest.

But as she was making her road through the hollow log, but soon heard some groaning and fighting.

Soon she looked on the road out before finding a crow that was straggling and seemed to be tied with some red string.

Mrs. Brisby put the medicine down one hole and came to see the stringy mess as the crow was trapped. "Are you alright here," she grinned impatiently to the trapped bird.

"What the--" the crow gasped before seeing the mouse, "woah! Lady, don't sneak up on me like this!"

"I didn't mean to scare you," Mrs. Brisby replied.

"Oh, you didn't scare me, I was just practicing. You just broke my focus, that's…" the crow grinned sheepishly.

"You rather seem to be all tangled up," Mrs. Brisby smirked.

"Um, yes, I guess that's enough exercise for one day," the crow said sheepishly before pulling himself up to the top of the log and sat down, "besides, I'm really after this great channel! I'm working on a love nest for two. You know what I mean?"

"Oh, I see. You have a daughter," Mrs. Brisby grinned.

"Well, not really, I mean…I haven't found Miss Right yet, and if I do so, the entire world will hear us singing…" the crow sighed before soon he began to sing, but he leaned back too far, which made him lose his balance and fall off from the log.

Soon the crow came back out the water, dripping wet as he had landed with a splash. "Excuse me, forgive me."

"Well, you keep making all this noise and Dragon will hear you," Mrs. Brisby warned the crow, "if he hasn't already."

"Wouldn't you sing as well? I mean, if you felt...if you felt the call of nature, but-" the crow chuckled sheepishly.

"I would--" Mrs. Brisby said before lowering her voice as she helped the crow, "I wouldn't, if I knew there was a cat nearby."

"But…but SHE'S over there....someplace," the crow replied, "and if I find her, I'll feel it way deep in my suspension arm! I…what cat," he asked.

"Dragon," Mrs. Brisby replied, "he belongs to Farmer Fitzgibbons. Look towards the house. See if you can see him."

The crow spread his wings and flew up while Mrs. Brisby, holding onto the strings entangling the crow, was pulled along after him. She swung at the end of the string down at the bottom of the branch.

"Come back down here," Mrs. Brisby warned the crow, pulling on the strings, "he'll certainly see you up there!"

"Hey, there's a cat over there," the crow noticed.

"Csendes! Does he see you," Mrs. Brisby asked him.

"No," the crow replied before pausing for a bit, "yes!"

"Stay perfectly silent," Mrs. Brisby warned.

"Everything's fine," the crow said at first, "he's heading straight for us."

"Don't panic," Mrs. Brisby said, "fast or slow?"

"Average. Hurry up. Really swift," the crow replied before panicking as he tried to flap off, but was getting more and more tangled with the string, "I have to go now! Excuse me, I really---"

Mrs. Brisby was caught up in the flailing string, and ended up swinging upside down by one foot.

Eventually, the crow pulled with all his might. "Beaks up!"

Mrs. Brisby jumped up and bit through the cord he was straining against and he went flying backward, almost falling over the edge of the log again, but pulled himself up.

"Oh, my heavens," the crow said.

Then the crow shrieked and tried to take off again, but was pulled up short by the string. He fell back down and ended up swinging in front of the entrance to the log, barely missing a rabbit that ran out of the opening.

"It's a bunny," Mrs. Brisby said in relief.

Soon the crow laughed a bit as he realized that he was concerned over nothing.

"Well, of all these silly idiots," Mrs. Brisby laughed to the crow, "you got really mad for a bunny," before biting through the string, holding up the male crow, which made him fall to the bottom of the log.

"You should've seen yourself," the crow laughed.

"Do you want to keep silent," Mrs. Brisby asked warily.

"You were afraid stiff," the crow continued to laugh, "a bunny! I knew this from the start!"

Unseen by the others, a certain cat was creeping up to the log.

"Do you want to shut up," Mrs. Brisby warned the crow.

"Admit it," the crow teased the mouse, "you were afraid!"

"Oh, violin sticks. Hang on," Mrs. Brisby warned him.

"If I had been around a cat, I would sneeze my brains out," the crow replied, "you see, I'm allergic to cats. I'm allergic to Kay. I'm allergic to-" before breathing, unable to finish before he suddenly sneezed on someone's face, "achoooooOOOO!!!! Excuse me, forgive me."

Soon the cat was shown and roared at him like an actual dragon would from his namesake. Soon the crow panicked and tried to take off, but was brought up short for the string.

Soon Mrs. Brisby bit down on the string to free the crow where she wouldn't get caught and possibly eaten by Dragon.

Soon the crow flew off, leaving Mrs. Brisby alone with Dragon as the cat came to her. Mrs. Brisby looked very shocked and overwhelmed.

Soon Dragon came through the log as Mrs. Brisby gasped and seemed to drop the medicine for her severally sick son.

Mrs. Brisby looked very afraid and concerned because without her medicine, her son could die. Soon she ran for the medicine, but doubled back, ducking under Dragon as he pounced, smashing against the dead branches.

Soon Mrs. Brisby went to reach for the medicine, but soon the cat roared at her, which alarmed her before soon she ended up in the water and despite not knowing how to swim very well, tried to do so.

"The string, run, catch the string," the crow yelped.

Soon Mrs. Brisby saw the string and caught it, getting pulled up into the branches of a tree. The string tangled in the branches, and she was knocked loose.

Soon Dragon came right for Mrs. Brisby once he saw her, making her run as fast as her feet could carry.

Mrs. Brisby saw a waterfall and knew how to take down this cat. Dragon hissed as he came closer and closer to Mrs. Brisby, though the branch began to creak a bit from the cat's weight.

The water was not deep, but Dragon hit the bottom hard, who decided he had enough and went back home, leaving her to live another day.

Soon Mrs. Brisby ended up going on a waterwheel, which took her to a mill as she looked around for her envelope as she seemed to have dropped it.

The crow waited in the mill, though Mrs. Brisby was weeping because she lost her sick son's medicine.

"Hey, Miss Mouse, don't worry, I'm fine," the crow warned the widowed mouse before whistling to prove it, "you see. I'm fine."

"That's not the reason why I'm weeping," Mrs. Brisby warned him, "I lost Timmy's medicine."

"Aw, ne pas pleure. I hate to see a woman weep," the crow cooed before perking up, "hey! Was I awesome, or was I awesome? Did you see that cat out there? All dripping, a-and wet…with water," before his voice trailed off a bit.

"I'll go back to Mr. Ages tomorrow," Mrs. Brisby wept again.

"You weren't that bad yourself! Hey, we'll be a really good team! Oh, you dropped this," the crow replied as he showed the envelope that held Timmy's medicine.

Mrs. Brisby gasped happily as she took the envelope with glee.

"Nobody plays with old Jeremy, boy," the crow said proudly, "nobody!"

"That's it! Timmy's medicine," Mrs. Brisby beamed, "oh, thank you! Thank you very much!"

"Uh-huh? What is this? Is that it? I mean, that is," the crow said bashfully before soon he remembered his manners, "well, I saw it lying there, and I said, uh…my name is Jeremy."

"I'm Mrs. Brisby. Thank you again," Mrs. Brisby replied, "I must go home now."

"Uh, where's the house," Jeremy asked to her as they both became friends.

"In the garden patch near the stone," Mrs. Brisby replied.

"Well, do you like me," Jeremy asked.

"Of course I like you! Farewell," Mrs. Brisby replied before tugging on a rope to be sure it was secure, but slid down onto it into an old lobster trap lying on the ground.

"No! I mean…I mean, uh…I mean, you don't think I'm awkward or anything," Jeremy asked before losing his balance and fell through the hole that the mouse had just descended through into the trap, but then got tangled in the old netting, "oh…I'm sorry. Excuse me, forgive me."

"Oh. Well, if you want to pluck a nest, you have a lot to learn about how to treat a female," Mrs. Brisby advised the crow.

"Good. If you're right, you're right. And you're right," Jeremy replied, "none of the girls I meet want to get serious!"

"I doubt they'll survive," Mrs. Brisby muttered sarcastically.

"Perhaps that's my approach," Jeremy said before looking to Mrs. Brisby, "hey! You were a girl once! You could teach me how to......you know, how to--"

"Hang on tight," Mrs. Brisby guessed.

"I'm not that bad! I just need a few tips to polish my style," Jeremy replied before he struck a pose and fell flat on his face.

"Jeremy," Mrs. Brisby added, "I have to go home."

Jeremy followed Mrs. Brisby out of the mill, trying to shake a piece of netting off his foot. "Well, let me--let me take you home," he suggested, "we can speak on the road!"

"Oh, dear, thank you," Mrs. Brisby replied, "I'm afraid of heights."

"Alright, then we'll walk," Jeremy suggested.

"Farewell," Mrs. Brisby said, crossing to the other side of the millpond, jumping nimbly on one lily pad.

Jeremy followed, but the lily pads couldn't support his weight as easily, and he splashed across noisily. "I think I had real potential," he said, "I mean, girls go for the athletic type, don't they?"

"Jeremy, you're stepping on my tail," Mrs. Brisby complained.

"Oh! Oh, yes! Excuse me, pardon me..." Jeremy said hesitantly.

"Perhaps I should find Mum," a young male voice said.

"I think not, Martin," a young female voice replied.

"Brisby! Briiiiisby," another voice yelled out.

"Oh! Auntie Shrew," the girl mouse gasped.

"Oh, Auntie," the other girl mouse added.

"Oh, dear…" the boy mouse muttered.

"Brisby," the voice continued to call out.

"She'll awaken Timothy," the first girl mouse yelped.

"Brisby," Auntie Shrew's voice called out again.

"She's not here," Teresa called back.

"Brisby," Auntie Shrew's voice continued any matter.

"Why does she always come around here, sticking her nose where they don't want her," Martin complained.

Then he stormed out of the main room, and swiped the cloth partition aside frustratedly. If there had been a door, he would have locked it.

"Martin," Teresa scolded her brother silently.

Soon Auntie Shrew came at the top of the stairs, showing to be an actual adult female shrew.

Teresa met the adult female shrew and helped with her shawl.

"Thank you, girl," Auntie Shrew said to Teresa, dumping her large shawl on Teresa, almost burying the young mouse as she started to go down the stairs, "I must speak to your mother."

Teresa shrugged, bundling up the shawl as best she could, and followed down the stairs after her.

"Your Auntie is exhausted," Auntie Shrew moaned to herself as she continued to call out for the widowed mouse as the others followed after her, "why me? That I am alone should be responsible for the welfare of the entire field is monstrous! Brisby!"

"Mother isn't here," Teresa warned her.

"Auntie Shrew, Timmy's sick," Cynthia spoke up, tugging on the shrew.

"Cynthia, darling, don't kick me," Auntie Shrew replied before looking overwhelmed, "isn't she here? She left you all alone then?"

"I'm old enough," Martin huffed from the bedroom.

"The rats in the field up to the sky knows what sort of mischief," Auntie Shrew muttered, "Cynthia, darling, don't worry! You're so much like your mother!"

"I'm not afraid of anything," Martin huffed.

"She went to see Mr. Ages," Teresa warned him.

"To Ages! That old flim-flam," Auntie Shrew huffed, "what for?"

"Auntie Shrew, Timmy's sick," Cynthia replied.

"Patience, my pet," Auntie Shrew warned her before looking to Teresa, "why to Ages?"

"Timmy's sick," Cynthia snapped.

"Timothy is very sick…" Teresa sighed as that was a bit blunt and rude.

"Timmy ill? How horrible," Auntie Shrew gasped.

"I'm not scared of the dark," Martin frowned, emerging from the bedroom as he swung a stick, "I'm not scared of the farmer!"

"I can't hear," Auntie Shrew warned him.

"I'm not even afraid of Dragon," Martin continued anyhow, "I'm not even scared of…of…of the Great Owl!"

"Will you shut up," Auntie Shrew scolded the young mouse.

"Aw, you shut up," Martin retorted.

"Martin, no," Teresa gasped sharply like a mother.

"Precocious monster," Auntie Shrew warned him.

"Chief bullfrog," Martin retorted.

"Spoiled brat!"

"Big mouth!"

"Oh! Well! That would be enough, thanks," Auntie Shrew snapped as she decided to leave then.

Soon Teresa gave Auntie Shrew her scarf.

Auntie Shrew headed for the exit, pausing halfway up to China. She didn't notice that her shawl had caught on a projection. "Don't throw pearls before pigs, I always say, and this includes cheeky piglets! Farewell," she said, heading up the stairs again, but was pulled up short and fell back down the stairs.

Teresa and Cynthia couldn't help but laugh at what just happened to their babysitter.

"Oh! Why, you impertinent little--" Auntie Shrew snapped at the young mice.

"Martin," Mrs. Brisby called out as soon as she came home, "Auntie Shrew, what's going on?"

"Indeed not," Auntie Shrew huffed as she pushed past Mrs. Brisby.

"Please go back inside," Mrs. Brisby replied.

"Not for the ransom of a king," Auntie Shrew snapped about Martin's behavior, "I only have one fact to say; this child is a brat!"

"Yes, I will speak to him," Mrs. Brisby replied.

"I came here to inform you that the frost is off the ground and that Moving Day is at hand," Auntie Shrew warned the widowed mouse before she continued to storm off, "get ready to move your very, very strange family. Farewell," before muttering to herself, "you never know what might be lurking here, with the rats..."

"Well, children," Mrs. Brisby sighed to her little ones, "now you have."

"It was Martin," Teresa spoke up.

"The Shrew has good intentions. She jusMrs. Brisby began to spoon-feed the soup to Timmy. One by one, the other children gathered around the bed. As the soup is gone, Timmy yawned, falling asleep and looking very thin.e bedroom.

"Gawrsh, I'm sorry, Mum," Martin said as his mother was leading the road to Timmy's room.

Martin began to follow inside Timmy's room. Timmy was shown to be in bed, looking quite sick and miserable.

Mrs. Brisby began to spoon-feed the soup to Timmy. One by one, the other children gathered around the bed. As the soup is gone, Timmy yawned, falling asleep and he looked very thin.

"Is Timmy going to die," Cynthia asked.

"No, darling," Mrs. Brisby added, "he's just very ill."

"What's the matter with him, Mother," Teresa asked.

"Mr. Ages called it......pneumonia," Mrs. Brisby said.

"Pneumonia," Teresa repeated in slight horror.

"Where is he going to get better," Cynthia asked.

"Soon…I hope," Mrs. Brisby said, "go to bed with you now."

Soon the next day came, and where the first to awaken was Mrs. Brisby. She heard an engine which began to start. Then Mrs. Brisby got up and clasped her hands to her chest as the fear struck. Going outside for a look, she climbed to the top of the large stone next to her house and sniffed the air.

"What did I warn you about," Auntie Shrew warned the widowed mouse, "Moving Day!"

"It can't be," Mrs. Brisby replied.

"It certainly can," Auntie Shrew replied, "I don't think you have packed!"

"What about Timmy," Mrs. Brisby asked, "the cold in the air could murder him!"

"Well, girl, that tractor surely will do it," Auntie Shrew warned her, "for the last time, get your kids out of here, before it's too late!"

Soon they heard the tractor getting started.

"Run! The plough is here! Run for your lives, run," Auntie Shrew called out into the field, running to warn the others, "it's Moving Day! Run! The plow is here! Run!"

Heads burst out of holes as the other animals sat up to hear. Warning signals get passed. Soon, every animal was running out of the field as fast as they could.

"Run! Get out," Auntie Shrew warned them.

Soon Auntie Shrew went further into the machine. Soon she pulled one of the distributor caps off the spark plug. It arced wildly, flinging her from side-to-side, tossing herself against a fuel container, and as she saw what it was, she started to pull with all her strength at the hose running from it. Eventually, she succeeded in pulling the hose loose, which made fuel spray everywhere. Soon the tractor began to slowly grind to a halt.

And where the human began to try and get his tractor started at first before seeing the source of his problem. "Well, of all the bad luck," the man grumbled to himself, "the cut of the fuel line."

"He'll be back tomorrow," Mrs. Brisby frowned uneasily and concernedly, "I wish Jonathan was here."

"Well, it isn't," Auntie Shrew stated bluntly.

Mrs. Brisby began to weep a bit.

"Foolishness," Auntie Shrew complained about the humans.

"What am I going to do," Mrs. Brisby sulked.

"We'll think of something," Auntie Shrew warned her, "c'mon, let's get out of here."

Soon the pair began to get out of there.

"The Great Owl would know what to do about this," Auntie Shrew reminded Mrs. Brisby, "you must go see him."

"Oh, I-I couldn't do that," Mrs. Brisby said hesitantly, "owls eat mice!"

"Well, my child, show some little courage," Auntie Shrew reminded her, "we're fighting for Timmy's life!"

"Jonathan, your wife, I'm afraid, is in desperate danger," a voice spoke, "a visit to the Great Owl may indeed be worthwhile. Then go to the Owl, Mrs. Brisby. Go there!"

Nicodemus looked around before shrugging as he could have sworn that he heard something, though a familiar sight was coming back in the shape of a certain crow they had met earlier yesterday after meeting Mr. Ages and Mrs. Brisby. As they were flying on Jeremy, Mrs. Brisby looked terrified.

"Nice evening, right," Jeremy grinned, "I warned you would love flying."

"I don't know how I let you speak me into this," Mrs. Brisby gasped.

"Aw, don't thank me, Mrs. Briz," Jeremy replied, "if we get to the Great Owl, he'll know what to do with everything!"

"Owls eat mice," Mrs. Brisby reminded him.

"Er…only after dark....." Jeremy shrugged before diving toward a stand of trees and barreled among the branches at high speed, eventually coming to light on a branch.

Soon Mrs. Brisby slid cautiously down the crow's leg.

"That must be an owl's tree," Jeremy said, indicating to a sinister-looking tree a short distance away as he went to take flight again.

Mrs. Brisby cupped in Jeremy's left foot. They landed on a branch, leading to a dark hole in the side of the tree. Cobwebs hung from everywhere. Slow breathing could be heard within…or was it just the wind?

"Hello? Hullo-o-o-o," Jeremy called out, though he didn't get a response so far. "Well, this place looks deserted. I guess you'd better get out of here," he suggested.

Suddenly, a loud hooting sound could be heard from within the tree and a dusty gust of wind came rolling out of the hole, as if something was flapping very large wings, blowing the pair backward a bit.

"Come inside my house....." a voice demanded.

Mrs. Brisby was about to follow Jeremy, but hesitated.

"Come in or go away," the voice demanded.

"Timothy...remember Timothy......" Mrs. Brisby warned herself as soon as she followed.

She began to make her road inside. She stumbled over a pile of bones, knocking them down into the inner recesses of the playground.

Then Mrs. Brisby gasped as a moth fluttered in her face, almost sending her racing back out. A spider stalked her, but just as it was about to attack, it was crushed by the owl's foot. Mrs. Brisby cowered in terror at the sight of the owl's glowing eyes.

"Why have you come," the Great Owl demanded.

"Please…please forgive me for disturbing you, but my son's life is in great danger," Mrs. Brisby spoke up.

A fluttering moth came too close to the owl, and he gulped it down.

"The plow arrived earlier this year," Mrs. Brisby warned the owl.

"Move your family," the Great Owl stated, emphasizing his words with flapping of his huge wings.

Mrs. Brisby was now in the center of a gust of wind like the one she had felt before with Jeremy, making the widowed mouse cower as bones dislodged from the ceiling, clattering all around her.

"Yes, I would've moved, but Timothy has pneumonia," Mrs. Brisby said, "he can't even get out of bed."

The Great Owl considered this before speaking again. "You have to move it to a place where it will be safe from the plow."

"Please, there must be another fashion," Mrs. Brisby begged.

"There is no other road," the Great Owl replied.

Mrs. Brisby frowned as it now seemed hopeless.

"I must wish you a good evening, Mrs…" the Great Owl spoke to the widowed mouse again.

"Mrs. Brisby," she informed.

"Brisby? Mrs. Jonathan Brisby," the Great Owl asked as he suddenly turned back and peered closer enough at the widowed mouse that she could see her reflection was his eye, making her pull back as far as she dared.

"Why so! He was my husband," Mrs. Brisby said, "but what have you done about him?"

"That is not reluctant," the Great Owl replied, "let me say this, his name is not unknown in these woods."

"Please, sir, I'll do anything to save Timmy," Mrs. Brisby begged, "everything."

Soon the Great Owl considered for a moment before thinking of something. "There is a fashion. Go to the rats," he warned her.

"But I don't know any rats," Mrs. Brisby replied.

"In the bush of roses," the Great Owl said.

"Oh, yes, close to the house," Mrs. Brisby said.

"Go there," the Great Owl instructed, "ask for Nicodemus."

"Nicodemus," Mrs. Brisby asked, "but how can they help?"

"They must move your house on the leeward side of the stone," the Great Owl advised.

"No rat can move my house," Mrs. Brisby gasped, "it's-"

"They have roads," the Great Owl replied, looming in again.

"I don't understand, but I'll do what you say," Mrs. Brisby said as she saw she needed to do this for the future of her young son's life and her family.

"It is night...I must go," the Great Owl said as he went for the door as Mrs. Brisby came out of the road as best as she could. "Remember...the permeability of the stone," he reminded, proceeding past the cowering Jeremy to the end of the branch. He spread his wings, and flew off into the night.

Then she rejoined Jeremy at the entrance.

"Then what do you think," Jeremy asked her.

"He said that what was wrong," Mrs. Brisby said.

"Rats," Jeremy asked, "what rats?"

"Under the cover of a stone....." Mrs. Brisby said to herself thoughtfully.

The French countryside was covered in white snow. What few trees remained after three years of war all had their branches covered as well. Yet despite, it being a war zone, the area was in full silence. The only sound was the cold winter blowing. Moments later, the silence was broken by the sound of horses neighing, their hooves brushing the snow as they ran, 12 in total, in two teams of 6, a wooden wagon behind them. In each wagon were 6 men, each wearing Imperial German Army grey tunics and trousers, grey overcoats to keep them warm, puttees above their boots and all wearing grey Stahlhelm or "Steel Helmet" helmets. On both wagons, the man who was tugging the reins to make the horses go faster both looked at each other with looks of murder. The man on the wagon on the right was the most murderous-looking: "Hauptmann" or Captain Steele. Deep black hair and icy blue eyes, muscular body, all made them look like a capable soldier. However, that didn't mean he was nice. He was the opposite. He looked over at the driver of the other wagon, who had brown hair and a bit more fatter than Steele. The drivers made their wagons thunder along. "Steele, we're not gonna make it," one of Steele's crew said, a skinny blue-eyed and light grey-haired "Privat" or Private everyone named "Sterne" or Star. Despite being an officer, few people actually called Captain Steele, and called him by his name. Steele fully ignored Star's request and kept staring ahead, spotting a rock just on the left of the opponent wagon. Then he turned his horses to the left, the wagon coming so close that the opponent wagon had no other choice but to move further left, for fear of hitting it. But suddenly, the whole crew watched their opponents, the left wagon's horses smashed into the rock and pulled their reins out of the drivers' hands before stopping a few yards away, its wooden wheels cracking and its crew all falling off and landing in the snow. Seeing this made Steele smirk with victory in delight. As they passed a sentry 3 miles from their destination, the sentry shot a flare into the heavens, signaling that they were on their road.

At the Fitzgibbons' farmhouse, front yard, Mrs. Fitzgibbons was hanging out the wash. Unnoticed by her, a baby's baptismal gown suddenly came to life and headed off across the yard towards the rosebush. It paused as it passed Dragon, who was on his back, asleep. The figure pulled the hood back, revealing to be a certain clumsy crow, pausing to suppress a sneeze or two before continuing on. He pauses to suppress a sneeze or two, and continued.

"Mrs. Briz! Briz," Jeremy called out, reaching to the rosebush and tripped over a low branch, "oh, excuse me, forgive me."

"Jeremy," Mrs. Brisby whispered, "what the hell?!"

"I'm in disguise," Jeremy replied theatrically before cackling diabolically.

"Jeremy, please, not now," Mrs. Brisby warned the crow firmly, "I'm trying to find the entrance, and these spines are very dense."

"Here, let me help you," Jeremy replied, sticking his head against the thorns, touching them, and then… "OW, YEOWCH!!!"

Mrs. Brisby jumped up and wrapped her arms around Jeremy's beak, shutting him up, making him make muffled sounds. "Will you be silent," she scolded, "they'll hear you!"

"I need to find this Nicodemus before the farmer fixes the tractor," Mrs. Brisby added.

"I'll keep an eye out," Jeremy offered, trying to take off, but his disguise got caught on the bush, ending up hanging upside-down.

"Will you," Mrs. Brisby warned, "will you get lost?"

"I don't see anyone coming," Jeremy said before falling to the ground with a thump.

"If you really wanted to help me, you'd go away," Mrs. Brisby frowned.

"Because that's very brave of you, Mrs. Brisby, but I can't...I can't leave you here alone," Jeremy replied, "because, if something happens, think…think about the kids!"

Soon Mrs. Brisby had an idea by the mention of the children. "That's it," she said out of inspiration.

"What? That's what," Jeremy asked out of confusion.

"Jeremy, someone strong should be protecting my kids," Mrs. Brisby suggested, "in case this tractor starts up again."

"Oh, in case the racetrack. Hey, you! How about me," Jeremy replied.

"Oh, you would," Mrs. Brisby asked, fluttering her eyelashes at the crow.

"Yes, of course! That'd be a fantastic practice," Jeremy beamed, "girls can't exist a guy who's good with children, you know, domestic type. Play, help, domestic!"

"Yes. Yes, maidens," Mrs. Brisby agreed, "now, whatever you do, don't let me know where I am."

"My lips are sealed, Mrs. Briz," Jeremy promised.

"Farewell," Mrs. Brisby warned the crow.

"Farewell with the rats," Jeremy saluted sharply and pulled the gown back around himself.

Mrs. Brisby turned back to the bush, but Jeremy came back one last time.

"Oh! Where do you live," Jeremy asked the widowed mouse.

"For that big stone in the garden," Mrs. Brisby replied, "just stay out of danger."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Briz. I love children and children love me," Jeremy replied before he seemed to rap himself, "children love me and I love children, I a-love-a children, and-a children a-love-" Not watching where he was going, he tripped over Dragon's leg who was yet asleep, until he immediately wrapped around him.

Suppressing sneezes, Jeremy tried to pull the gown out of Dragon's grasp. Eventually he sneezed, inflating the gown and propelling himself into the air, he growled in frustration before shouting out an enraged "STEELE!!"

This yell was so loud that it echoed across the farmhouse. "Dragon! You lazy kitten," Mrs. Fitzgibbons complained, retrieving the gown, "go get some of these mice from the barn!"

Dragon opened an eye, then fell asleep again, hearing the frustrated black crow shout his name.

"I've never seen a cat sleep so much," Mrs. Fitzgibbons mused to herself.

Mrs. Brisby watched this, then returned to her search.

She opened a small branch, which moved under her touch. A cleverly disguised door opened with a creak. Soon she came in before the door itself closed behind her.

Inside the rosebush, weird lights flickered and crackled. Electrical currents seemed to flow all around her. She narrowly escaped being caught by some sort of animated vines that tangled together, drawing the thorns across the entrance tightly. Soon her escape was blocked, she could now only go forward. She proceeded through the bush, past sights wondrous and frightening, eventually reaching a curtain across the road. Mrs. Brisby peered through it.

On the other side was a brightly lit space in the center of the rosebush, with an elegantly wrought footpath over a small pond, leading to an elaborate arch with a tunnel opening leading underground. She entered the open space, looking left and right at the beautiful landscaping, but suddenly a massive metal object smashed down to the ground directly in front of her. Then she looked up into the eyes of an enormous rat with a battle axe.

"Er, hello, I'm…I'm Mrs. Brisby. Uh, uh…uh, I was warned to see Nicodemus," Mrs. Brisby warned the rat as she stood bravely to the enormous rat to protect her.

The rat didn't say anything.

"Are you Nicodemus," Mrs. Brisby spoke up.

The rat lunged, striking at the mouse with his axe.

"Please, I need help," Mrs. Brisby cried out to the rat in grief.

The rat struck again, and again, chasing the mouse out of the road she had come. He slashed the curtain behind her for good measure before turning back to the entrance before she ducked to a hiding place, but immediately, an ominous shadow approached.

"Who's going there," demanded a voice.

"Me," Mrs. Brisby replied.

The voice was shown to be Mr. Ages.

"Mrs. Brisby," Mr. Ages asked, "what are you---what are you doing here?"

"Oh! Oh, thank heavens it's you," Mrs. Brisby said to him.

"How did you get here with thunder," Mr. Ages asked.

"The plow arrived in the field early," Mrs. Brisby tried to explain.

"Well, you better march back the fashion you came," Mr. Ages said firmly.

"I can't bring Timothy out," Mrs. Brisby explained, "the cold in the air will hurt him!"

"That's another question," Mr. Ages replied, "which doesn't explain what you're doing here."

"And that big rat chased me off, but I need to see Nicodemus," Mrs. Brisby grew animated, "the Owl warned us to see Nicodemus!"

"That's it, maybe you should" Mr. Ages replied before his voice trailed off at first, "the owl said?"

Hesitantly, Mrs. Brisby nodded.

"Here now, what owl," Mr. Ages asked, "what do you mean what's the use?"

"I went to see the Great Owl," Mrs. Brisby said.

"The Owl," Mr. Ages asked, "you said you saw....the Owl?"

"Yes," Mrs. Brisby replied, "and he said that I should ask for Nicodemus."

"Er, yes, I know Nicodemus," Mr. Ages replied.

"He lives with the mice," Mrs. Brisby said.

"More specifically, he is the leader of the rats," Mr. Ages replied.

"Do you know him," Mrs. Brisby asked.

"No one has ever seen the Owl," Mr. Ages replied, "and lived to warn about this!"

"Please, could you take me to see Nicodemus," Mrs. Brisby asked.

"Well, ye-e-ess, sir," Mr. Ages said before fighting for a moment, "and as for you, I hope you're warning the truth! C'mon."

"How about the big rat at the entrance," Mrs. Brisby asked hesitantly, "I can't go back there. I can't."

"Oh, never mind Brutus," Mr. Ages said calmly, "then follow me."

Mrs. Brisby yet hung back.

"Well? C'mon," Mr. Ages warned her.

Reluctantly, Mrs. Brisby followed Mr. Ages back through the curtain.

"Jonathan, your wife has eventually arrived.  Maybe now I can return your kindness to me," an unfamiliar voice said as the group traveled together, "but Mrs. Brisby, who served the mice of NIMH much more than we did so.  Jenner, I fear, could harm her down.  Possibly, also these young people who are not from our world...Jenner is consoled by a desire for power.  So far, the amulet has remained safely hidden.  But if he finds it, heaven will help us."

Mr. Ages led the road, though he seemed to be limping a bit.

"That's none of your business," Mr. Ages warned, "now, to what you see and hear, you must swear to absolute secrecy."

"Yes, I unders---" Mrs. Brisby began.

"Swear it," Mr. Ages frowned.

"I promise," Mrs. Brisby replied.

"If any of this were to leak, we'd have humanity destroying the road here to blow up the place," Mr. Ages warned.

"Is it always so dark," Mrs. Brisby asked.

"We went down a meter," Mr. Ages warned her.

Suddenly, the tunnel was lit with several electric lights of different colors.

Mrs. Brisby gasped at the sight. "It's the most beautiful sight that I have ever seen!"

The chamber was revealed by the lights was quite large, and filled with a remarkable assortment of junk, most of it appearing to be children's toys. For example, a row of toy soldiers was lined up against the wall. Mrs. Brisby glanced at them briefly, but moved ahead. Behind her and Mr. Ages however, one of the soldiers opened its eyes. It was actually a large rat. He broke rank and crept up behind them, eventually reaching out and caught Mr. Ages around the throat.

"Reveal your name," the rat hissed.

"Justin, you pinhead," Mr. Ages frowned a bit, "get your hands off me!"

"OK, that's it, just a joke," the rat chuckled a bit, "I didn't mean any harm.  The meeting's already in underway."

"What's going on," Mr. Ages demanded.

Mrs. Brisby already had noticed quite a bit about Justin.

"Who, can I ask," Justin asked.

"Oh, yes, yes, she is trustworthy," Mr. Ages replied, "that is not strange.  My darling, can I introduce Justin, the Captain of the Guard.  Justin, Mrs. Brisby."

"Not…Mrs. Jonathan Brisby," Justin gasped about the widowed mouse.

"Yes, the same," Mr. Ages warned Justin about who Mrs. Brisby was.

"It is an honor and a privilege, my lady," Justin said with a grand bow to the widowed mouse.

"If we could dispense with the formalities," Mr. Ages suggested in a sarcastic fashion that could opponent Jonathan on a daily basis.

"How beautiful...." Mrs. Brisby said as she seemed to focus the male rat.

"Madam," Justin replied.

"Oh!  Er…the lights," Mrs. Brisby covered up, "they're quite adorable."

"Yes, they are," Justin grinned to Mrs. Brisby, "we've got electricity for four years now."

"Five," Mr. Ages corrected.

"Jonathan always spoke about electricity," Mrs. Brisby memorized.

"But look, our shame is that we're stealing, from Farmer Fitzgibbons," Justin said.

"Robbery," Mrs. Brisby's face paled.

"All of that will change," Mr. Ages informed.

"He means that we're working on a plan," Justin explained.

"I mean, we have a plan," Mr. Ages replied, "and that theft will stop."

The pair entered as Justin cast off the cable and jumped onto the lantern as it swung off from the edge. Then it dropped into the water and continued down.

"Now…oh, yes," Mr. Ages said to Justin, "why did you call me?"

"It's Jenner," Justin replied, "he's back."

"Huh…a bad wind is blowing," Mr. Ages said.

"He's before the Council now," Justin warned him, "this time, he's openly attacking Nicodemus."

"And the plan, no doubt," Mr. Ages replied.

"It won't go anywhere," Justin reassured, "it'll pass."

"Watch out, boy, he's dangerous," Mr. Ages warned him, "Jenner will be the destruction of the Rats of NIMH."

"I'm sorry to come here at such a bad time," Mrs. Brisby said, "I suppose."

"No, sweet lady, you are welcome here," Justin warned her, "um, we tend to take ourselves a little too seriously."

"Huh," Mr. Ages rolled his eyes a bit.

The trio proceeded towards the Council chamber. The caverns were huge, arching, with extensive brickwork and rich appointments. The floors were paved. As they neared the chamber, the sounds of argument could already be heard.

"The Plan is just madness," a councilman complained, "the fantasy of a trembling old fool!  Nicodemus wants us to destroy this colony, just to starve ourselves in some jungle!"

"Ahem. Good old Jenner," Justin remarked.

Mr. Ages paused outside the door. "Wait.  Listen," he warned the others.

"Moving to Thorn Valley is a good plan," Jonathan spoke up as an honorary advisor.

"Well, fine!  We have everything we need right here," the dark rat known as Jenner retorted.

"Well, c'mon, you suspecting old goat," Justin said as he picked up Mr. Ages by the back of his shirt, walking into the chamber and deposited the old mouse down.

"If we stay here, humans will discover us," Jonathan continued.

"They'd destroy us on the spot," another councilor added.

"I agree," one alderman added.

"He's right.  We'll be murdered," another councilman said.

"Not if we catch them first," Jenner retorted.

"He means war," Jonathan warned him, "we'd be outnumbered!  There are too many of them!"

"Listen to me!  The Thorn Valley Plan is the aspiration of idiots and dreamers," Jenner retorted, "we-" he suddenly turned and saw Justin and the others standing in the doorway before chuckling sarcastically, "we were speaking about you."

"This is refreshing, Jenner, you're usually shouting at us," Justin smirked.

After hearing what Justin said caused the council to chuckle.

"Who's that," Jenner asked once he spotted the widowed mouse, "do you know the rules, visitors are not allowed here."

"Can I present....Mrs. Jonathan Brisby," Justin declared.

Mrs. Brisby curtsied shyly. The council began to whisper to each other after they heard Mrs. Brisby's married name.

"Jonathan Brisby is dead," the rat said.

"She's not one of us," Jenner frowned, "what is the meaning of this?"

"Send her off," an alderman suggested.

"Let's get back to business," another councilor added.

"Please, wait!  She went to see the Great Owl," Mr. Ages said, "he warned her that we could take the Brisby house to safety."

"Her home was Jonathan's house," Justin added.

"We have our own urgent problems," the big rat said, "let the lower creatures take care of themselves!"

Then a loud argument broke out in the council.

"Order," the chief council rat demanded, "order!"

Jenner's closer colleague known as Sullivan was about to do something until he was stopped.

"Wait, my friend," Jenner smirked eagerly, "I smell an opportunity."

"What," Sullivan asked.

"Maneuvers of this nature are dangerous," Jenner suggested, "incidents could happen......"

"Jenner," Jonathan called.

"Incidents," Sullivan replied from Jenner's statement.

"Jenner," Jonathan called louder this time.

"I'll explain later," Jenner replied before beaming to the widowed mouse, "Mrs. Brisby!  A thousand pardons, my darling!  Forgive my colleague's bad mood.  It would be an honor to help Jonathan's widow in any fashion.  We are but her humble servants."

"Th-thank you all," Mrs. Brisby said shyly.

Soon the other councilmen of rats agreed to letting Mrs. Brisby stay and be taken care of from Jenner's word.

"He's up to something," Mr. Ages said to Justin about Jenner, "take Mrs. Brisby to the library.  We'll approach Nicodemus if the meeting's over."

Soon Justin moved the mouse into the other room while Mr. Ages remained, eyeing Jenner suspiciously.

"Motion passed," the councilors decided.

Unfortunately, Jeremy wasn't having many luck with the children as he was being arrested by his own string by the Shrew.

Soon Martin pulled on the string to tie Jeremy's beak shut.

"But Martin..." Teresa spoke up.

"Hey, Mum helped a crow in the field the day before yesterday," Martin warned her.

Then Jeremy started to make emotional noises.

"He's trying to speak," Cynthia pointed out.

"He looks like a madman," Teresa commented.

"He even took her to the Great Owl," Martin said.

"Well," Teresa replied.

"That could be the same crow," Martin warned her.

Then Martin undid the string to free the clumsy crow from the trap, but all the road just yet.

"That's me all---phew," Jeremy said in relief once he was freed, "I'm the crow.  Untie me swiftly, I can't stand it!"

"What are you doing here," Teresa asked the crow.

"Oh, that's a good question, but don't ask," Jeremy replied before yelping, "the legs…the legs…THE LEGS!!"

But the crow slowly teetered over and fell on his face.

"Oh, the poor turkey fell down," Cynthia pouted.

"I'm not a turkey," Jeremy said, "your mother."

"Where's our mother," Teresa asked the crow.

"You big buzzard, where's our mother," Martin demanded before jumping onto Jeremy and started tickling him.

"Please, wait!  Hold it!  No!  Stop it," Jeremy cried out in grief.

"What did you do to her," Teresa asked.

"You're tickling," Jeremy laughed.

"You'd better warn me or I'll tie you back up again," Martin threatened.

"The…the rosebush!  To…to see the rats," Jeremy confessed between laughs.

"Did you take our mother to the rats," Teresa asked Jeremy.

"Well, I'll look for her," Martin decided, about to storm off, but got blocked by Jeremy.

"No, no, listen, hold it, wait a moment," Jeremy said hesitantly, though Martin climbed over his legs, where he tried to shake the young mouse off of him, "the rats, they're friendly!  Good!  Tonight…stay!  They come here to take your house where it's safe!  You see?  Sta-a-ay…the Owl said they're good and smart.  See me now?"

"You're right," Martin said to his sister, "he's an idiot."

"Oh, dear…no, don't…you have to...no, don't do this..." Jeremy cried out in grief as Martin tried to tie his beak shut again.

Meanwhile, Mr. Ages led Mrs. Brisby to go and see Nicodemus through the tunnels towards the rat's chambers.

"Oh, don't tire him now," Mr. Ages warned her.

"No," Mrs. Brisby replied.

"Be short," Mr. Ages said.

"Yes," Mrs. Brisby replied.

"Say what you want and go," Mr. Ages said.

"I won't bother," Mrs. Brisby added.

"Justin is bothering him enough with all his silly nonsense," Mr. Ages commented before coming to a stop, "well, here we are."

"Thank you, Mr. Ages," Mrs. Brisby replied.

"I don't know what Nicodemus is saying in this book," Mr. Ages said under his breath before looking to her again as he went to walk off, "I'll come back for you.  In short!"

Soon Mrs. Brisby went to the door. Mrs. Brisby reached for the handle, which depressed itself before she could touch it.

The door opened, as a flood of light and force streamed out of it for several seconds. Mrs. Brisby braced herself against it as it tried to push them back. Then, as suddenly as it began, it ended. Then the widowed mouse cautiously peered out to the door while getting back up.

"Come closer, child," a voice called to her, "don't be afraid."

Soon Mrs. Brisby approached the figure of Nicodemus, who was sitting on an ornate throne in the center of the room.

"Sir…the, um…the Great Owl sent us to you," Mrs. Brisby said hesitantly.

"Oh, did he?  He is a dear comrade......" Nicodemus replied, "closer."

Mrs. Brisby gulped, but soon obeyed the order, coming right up to the throne.

"Ah, Mrs. Jonathan Brisby," Nicodemus recognized the widowed mouse, "what an honor that is."

"How…how is this that everyone knows Jonathan," Mrs. Brisby asked.

"He was a great friend of the rats from NIMH," Nicodemus explained, "he himself came from NIMH."

"Your Majesty, my family is" Mrs. Brisby began.

"I know of your needs," Nicodemus interrupted until he gestured to a book sitting on a desk against the wall, "there is a book.  Read the words."

"I can read a little.  Jonathan taught me," Mrs. Brisby replied, "the children are better......"

The book raised from the desk, and opened itself with light streaming from the pages, much to Mrs. Brisby's shock.

"And if…if I..." Mrs. Brisby's voice trailed off hesitantly.

"Read," Nicodemus warned her.

Soon Mrs. Brisby went to read, though it was hard to get to the part of the widow's late husband. "Jonathan Brisby made possible the escape of the rats from the horrible cruelty of NIMH.  He was murdered today while drugging the farmer's cat, Dragon," she began, revealing how exactly Jonathan had died.

"That's a deliberate lie, you monkey-faced little rumpot," Nicodemus shrieked.

"Oh, I…I never knew....exactly what happened," Mrs. Brisby grew emotional, "why did he never warn me about any of you?  Why?"

"To respond that, I have to warn you about NIMH and our Plan.  Go!  Look over there," Nicodemus replied before pointing to a device in the corner.

Mrs. Brisby took a look as she saw what looked like a rough globe set in an ornate flame before it began to spin faster and faster.

The globe began to show a scene. Soon the widowed mouse came to take a look into the globe, seeing many images appear as Nicodemus warned them a story.

"In the beginning, we were ordinary street rats, stealing our daily bread and living on the exertions of human labor.  We were captured, caged and sent to a place called NIMH.  There were many caged animals there," Nicodemus began, "they were subjected to the most unthinkable tortures to satisfy some scientific curiosity.  Often at night, I heard them shriek in great agony.  20 rats and 11 mice were given a few meters back…our world began to change…"

We see nightmarish images of rats writhing in pain as their DNA twisted and exploded.

"Then one night, I looked at the words under the cage door and understood them," Nicodemus continued, "we had become intelligent.  We could read."

We see a sign that read "TO OPEN DOOR, LIFT LATCH."  A rat's hand reached out of the cage and lifted it. The door swung open with a creak. Soon, all the rats and mice began escaping from their cages.

"The miracle was kept a secret from the scientists, and we fled the silence of the night through the ventilation system," Nicodemus continued as a brave brown mouse was shown, which was quite familiar to Mrs. Brisby, "the mice were blown off, dark air shafts sucked up until they died.  All but two; Jonathan and Mr. Ages.  We were caught by a locked door on the roof.  It was Jonathan, who made it possible to unlock the door."

Jonathan wriggled through a wire cover over the end of the air duct. The cover fell free and we see Jonathan sitting on top of the vent, looking very pleased with himself.

Mrs. Brisby sighed as soon as the image of her dead husband faded.

"I have a present.  C'mon," Nicodemus warned Mrs. Brisby, "Jonathan meant it for you."

Mrs. Brisby followed behind to see what he had. Nicodemus opened up a box and opened it as it contained an amulet and lifted it out and soon the box floated off.

"Oh…it's so beautiful," Mrs. Brisby beamed.

"It is sleeping," Nicodemus informed.

"Sleeping," Mrs. Brisby repeated curiously.

"Yes.  While the Stone is being carried by someone with a brave heart, it glows red," Nicodemus explained, "it becomes a blinding beam.  Courage of the heart is very rare.  The Stone has a power if it's there."

"Look!  An inscription," Mrs. Brisby said before reading it out loud from the amulet, "'you can unlock any door if you only have the key.'"

"That's a deliberate lie, you mooky-faced little mouthbox," Nicodemus yelled.

"Oh, thank you," Mrs. Brisby warned Nicodemus, "I will always appreciate it."

"Jonathan couldn't warn you about NIMH because the injections slowed the aging process," Nicodemus warned Mrs. Brisby, putting the amulet on around her neck, "you see, you would have gotten old while he was young."

Then there was a knock at the door before they saw Justin sticking his head in.

"Nicodemus?  The boats are ready and waiting," Justin warned the elderly and wise rat, "we can go anytime."

"Good…" Nicodemus nodded before standing and held out his hand, which made his staff float over him, "my child, shall we go home to you?"

"Sir," Mrs. Brisby asked.

"Tonight, we have to move your house to the protected side of the stone," Nicodemus warned the widowed mouse.

"The slipstream of the stone," Mrs. Brisby guessed.

"Yes," Nicodemus nodded.

As the widowed mouse and Nicodemus left the chamber, Jenner was watching from around a corner.

"I don't get it, Jenner," Sullivan spoke up.

"If Nicodemus is out of the road, what prevents us from taking control," Jenner replied wickedly.

"Jenner, you can't murder Nicodemus," Sullivan gasped to the dark rat.

"No taste for blood, right," Jenner replied, "they took the animal from you."

"What if we're discovered," Sullivan asked.

"Oh, listen.  The Brisby home is a big block of cement," Jenner explained, "in motion, what if it should fall?"

"An incident," Sullivan asked.

"Of course," Jenner smirked eagerly, rubbing his paws together fiendishly, "cut the lines, and the weight of that will crush his bones!"

"It's risky..." Sullivan said, a bit squeamishly.

"As soon as Nicodemus is gone, the Plan will die," Jenner replied, "we can stay here as long as we want!"

"What…what about Justin," Sullivan asked.

"Leave him to me...." Jenner smirked a bit.

This spelled damage for everybody, but they were unaware of it right now.

On an underground lake, Nicodemus and Mrs. Brisby were riding in a gondola, being pulled by Justin.

"Sometimes if we have a science project that takes us outdoors, Mr. Ages puts together a sleeping powder to give to Dragon," Justin informed.

"How do you get him to take it," Mrs. Brisby wondered.

"Somebody has to go into the farmer's kitchen and put it in his bowl," Justin informed, "the only reason into the kitchen is through a small hole in the floor.  Ages tried yesterday.  Then he..."

"Broke his leg," Mrs. Brisby guessed.

"Right," Justin nodded.

A large chunk of rock suddenly fell from the ceiling, narrowly missing the boat, making it rock wildly for a second.

"That was close," Justin said in relief.

"What's up there," Mrs. Brisby asked a little hesitantly.

"The mill.  It's falling apart," Justin said, "hope it stays up there, at least until we're finished with the Plan."

"The Plan?  What is the Plan," Mrs. Brisby asked.

"To live without stealing, naturally," Nicodemus replied.

"It's wrong to take electricity from the farmer," Justin added.

"My child, we can no longer live as rats," Nicodemus warned the widowed mouse, "we know too many."

"We're almost there," Justin said as he poled the boat to shore and got out to tie it off.

The cavern ended behind the same waterfall that Jonathan had fallen into while running from Dragon from much earlier.

"Um, Your Majesty," Mrs. Brisby spoke up a bit hesitantly, "I should stuff the children for tonight."

"We'll wait here until dark…" Nicodemus replied.

"I'm volunteering!  For Dragon," Mrs. Brisby said.

"Oh, dear, Mrs. Brisby," Justin sounded just as worried, "Nicodemus, this isn't a job for you!"

"Well, please," Mrs. Brisby said, "allow me to introduce you to the Company."

"As you like," Nicodemus allowed the widowed mouse.

Justin heaved a heavy sigh. "Alright.  We'll meet at dusk on the west side of the farmhouse," he warned her.

"Thanks," Mrs. Brisby said before walking off, speaking under her breath, "I must be crazy.  Farewell!  I must be crazy....."

Running home along a pond, Mrs. Brisby's eye was caught by a water lily drifting a little faster than it ought to be. It bumped into the shore near her, and a small pipe sticking out from underneath went astray. A second later, a certain crow emerged from underneath the lily, coughing and laughing.

"Csendes!  I'm following," Jeremy warned.

"Following," Mrs. Brisby asked.

"Csendesen!  There's a crazy woman in a hat!  She has big teeth!  She tied me up," Jeremy replied in a panic before his eye was caught by the amulet around Mrs. Brisby's neck, "and then I---oh!  Ooh…a sparkling one!"

"What," Mrs. Brisby asked.

"You're wearing a shimmer," Jeremy beamed at Mrs. Brisby, "can I hold it up?  Oh, please, can I?"

"Jeremy, listen," Mrs. Brisby warned the crow as he looked entranced by the amulet, "I need a lot of ropes to move the block!"

"Move…the block…" Jeremy said before snapping out of it, "hey!  I have ropes!  I saved them!"

"Oh, sure, the red ones, the blue, green, yellow ones..." Jeremy replied.

"Be careful," Mrs. Brisby warned him.

Jeremy's head snapped back down to the amulet.

"Go get all the thread you can," Mrs. Brisby warned the clumsy crow.

"Alright…" Jeremy said before he suddenly realized what he just agreed to, "but it'll take all day!"

"Good!  Go ahead," Mrs. Brisby urged, clapping her paws together.

"I just thought I'd mention it in passing," Jeremy said as he was about to go, "I've always wanted a sparkly one of my own."

"Do you want to go," Mrs. Brisby asked, almost impatiently.

"Sure!  Uh…excuse me.  Forgive me.  Farewell," Jeremy replied before disappearing under the lily again, wandering off, though hitting every rock in his path which was enough to make even Mrs. Brisby roll her eyes.

Justin and Mrs. Brisby were now under the farmhouse, ready to drug the cat.

"It won't be long," Justin warned Mrs. Brisby, "she's washing the dishes.  Here's the powder.  Hesitant?"

"A lot," Mrs. Brisby replied.

"Don't be," Justin assured her, "you'll be fine."

"I hope you didn't upset your plans," Mrs. Brisby frowned.

"Nonsense!  What makes you say that," Justin replied.

"I thought I caused an argument," Mrs. Brisby said.

"Oh, you mean Jenner," Justin replied, "no problem."

"Justin?  I sincerely hope you'll make it to Thorn Valley," Mrs. Brisby said.

"We will," Justin reassured until he heard something before silencing her as it was almost time, "csendes!  Listen.  Mrs. Fitzgibbons is filling Dragon's bowl.  Get ready."

"Oh, my…" Mrs. Brisby said in worry.

"Better leave that cloak," Justin suggested, "you might get caught on something."

Mrs. Brisby sighed, but then dropped her cape through the hole, followed a moment later by the Stone.

Justin hung them up nearby and passed the envelope with the powder up to her. "Here's the powder," he warned her.

From outside, Dragon was heard yowling to his humans to be let in.

"I don't think I can do that," Mrs. Brisby cried out in grief.

"Yes, you can," Justin trained her.

Mrs. Brisby shook her head desperately.

Dragon kept yowling to his humans where he would be let in.

"Hang on, Dragon, we're coming," Mrs. Fitzgibbons said as she came to her cat, "there we go."

"Stop…now," Justin signaled.

Mrs. Brisby hesitated, trying not to let her fear consume as she came toward Dragon's bowl to drug the cat. As she kept going, she got the drug into the food before going back to Justin. The cat food scattered all around separate directions during her escape.

"Come back," Justin warned.

Mrs. Brisby ran the hole under the cabinet, but just before she could reach it, a colander came down over her.

"Mum!  Don't let the cat in yet, I've caught a mouse," a young boy beamed.

"A mouse," Mrs. Fitzgibbons asked in worry.

"Can I keep her," the boy begged, "can I?"

"No, Billy, put her outside," Mrs. Fitzgibbons warned her son.

Soon Justin overheard what just happened and cursed under her breath. "Damn!"

"Please, Mum, please," Billy begged his mother about keeping Mrs. Brisby as a pet, "I can keep her in Porgy's old cage."

"Oh…alright," Mrs. Fitzgibbons sighed in defeat, "hold on, Dragon."

"I'll have to come back for you later," Justin promised the two before running out of the farmhouse as rain began to fall.

Auntie Shrew, Martin, Teresa and Cynthia were waiting in the meantime.

"Rats…" Auntie Shrew said hesitantly, "mice?"

"They'll be here any moment," Martin shrugged.

"To move our house over there near the Stone," Teresa said.

"Wrong," Auntie Shrew said to Teresa.

"Actually move it," Teresa replied.

"Not while I'm awake," Auntie Shrew said.

"Auntie Shrew, I'm not scared," Cynthia replied.

"Scared, little girl," Auntie Shrew frowned, coming between Martin, Teresa and Cynthia, "I'm not afraid of these big huge beasts.  And one of these furry savages should come in through that door.  Oh!  The rats."

It was raining while Mrs. Brisby was trapped in the Fitzgibbons' household.

Suddenly, a telephone's ring was heard.

Soon Mr. Fitzgibbons went to respond the phone. "Let go, I'm on my road, hold your horses," he responded it, letting the widowed mouse listen in a bit. "Hello?  Who?  NIMH.  Oh!  Oh, yes.  NIMH!  Yes, yes!  I know, you called about the rats," he spoke on the phone for a while. "Well, I don't know anything about special behaviors, but traps sure don't work......in the morning?  Alright with me...oh, dear, oh, dear, can you tear down that rosebush right from there, I want these mice to be exterminated!  Uh, well, there are no...allegations?  Well.  OK, that's it, see you tomorrow.....uh-huh…farewell," he hung up.

"NIMH?  They're on their road here," Mrs. Brisby asked out of fear, "I have to warn Justin!"

The widowed mouse jumped to the door of her cage and started tugging it desperately.

The moving of the Brisby house was underway. The rats had set up an elaborate system of ropes, pulleys and a huge wheel powered by about 30 rats marching in a circle. Slowly, the cement block started to rise out of the mud.

Inside the Brisby house, the children were trying to keep facts from getting knocked about too badly while Auntie Shrew was having a panic attack.

"Teresa," Auntie Shrew called out, only to get knocked out cold as a marble fell on her head.

"Martin," Teresa called out.

"Auntie is scared," Cynthia smirked.

The house reached the necessary height as the rats began to move it transversely.

"Pull the finish line.  Be careful," Justin instructed, "be careful!  Easy to do....keep going!"

Nicodemus was standing on the stone, supervising the operation.

Jenner and Sullivan lurked near the ropes, anchoring the apparatus to the stone and they both carried their own swords.

"Nicodemus cooperates beautifully," Jenner remarked.

"Jenner," Sullivan spoke up hesitantly.

"He's standing in just the right place," Jenner continued.

"Jenner, I…I can't do it," Sullivan gulped.

"If that block reaches halfway to China, you cut the line," Jenner warned his right hand rat, "don't get any ideas, my friend.  You're in this up to your neck!"

"C'mon, buddies," Justin shouts, "put your backs into it!"

Soon Mrs. Brisby found a paperclip and tried to use it against the door. But unfortunately, it didn't work as it cut Mrs. Brisby. Mrs. Brisby held her paw, seeing blood on her own now. Mrs. Brisby jumped into the water, but the dish as pushed too far forward for her to fit through the gap on the other side. Then she got out, ran to the far side of the cage and took a flying jump at the dish. The dish shifted a little, though Mrs. Brisby was unable to make it through. Soon she made her road out and luckily, Dragon wasn't going to awaken for a while.

Jenner watched the block's process carefully.

"Ready with the knife....." Jenner said, "ready…cut now!"

"I…I…" Sullivan stammered.

"Now!  Cut it," Jenner demanded.

"No," Sullivan protested.

Soon Jenner began to cut the mouse-sized rope.

Soon the Brisby house smashed to the ground. Inside the Brisby house, all was bedlam with furniture flying. Soon a candle tipped over and it began to set the house on fire.

"HEEELLLPPP!!!  Martin," Teresa cried out in grief.

Soon a washbasin slid the same fashion as the candle and overturned, putting out the fire.

Outside, a crowd of rats, led by Justin and Mr. Ages, desperately fought their road into the wreckage.

"OK, that's it.  We have to hurry!  C'mon, c'mon," Justin said.

"That's a delivery lie, you monkey-faced little teapot," Mr. Ages shouts.

"Alright…I see him..." Justin said before stopping dead in his tracks in horror, "Nicodemus....oh, dear!  NO!!"

Nicodemus' paw was shown, limping from within a pile of rubble.

Then Mrs. Brisby yelped as she came face-to-face with Dragon. Luckily, Dragon was yet fast asleep and didn't even see her, giving her a breath of relief.

Mrs. Brisby took that time to stop to collect her belongings.

Meanwhile, the rats had gathered around the Brisby house.

"Friends, we cannot leave the Brisby house," Jenner warned his fellow rats.

"We just can't leave this in the mud," Mr. Ages said.

"The equipment is a confusion," Jenner said.

"Justin," Mrs. Brisby's voice called out in the distance.

"One day, we will travel to Thorn Valley just as Nicodemus wanted, but not now," Jenner added.

"Justin," Mrs. Brisby's voice called out in the distance.

"Mrs. Brisby," Mr. Ages asked.

"Come.  Let's return to the rosebush," Warren suggested to the others, "where we belong."

"Oh, Mr. Ages!  What just happened?  The children," Mrs. Brisby gasped.

"They…they're good," Mr. Ages replied, "Nicodemus is.....dead."

"Oh…oh, dear…" Mrs. Brisby grew distraught.

"That's an emergency lie, you mooky-faced little voicebox," Jenner bellowed.

"You're in great danger," Mrs. Brisby replied, "NIMH is coming!"

"Come, come, let's return to the rosebush…" Jenner swiftly warned the others to distract them.

"NIMH is coming," Mrs. Brisby said.

"NIMH," one of the rats asked out of fear.

"In the morning," Mrs. Brisby exclaimed.

"NIMH," a rat asked hesitantly.

"Yes.  You will all die if you don't leave the farm tonight," Mrs. Brisby warned them.

"Liars," Jenner frowned.

"Please, wait!  You have to believe me," Mrs. Brisby added.

Soon the rats got into a panicking chatter.

"What if it's true?"

"We'll all be murdered!"

"Don't panic!"

"Don't listen," Jenner warned the other rats, "she's hysterical!"

"Go out now," Mrs. Brisby urged the rats.

Soon with a vicious backhand, Jenner sent Mrs. Brisby flying, shucking his cape and drew his sword. "You're going out," he frowned at the widowed mouse, "I've had enough!"

"Jenner," Mr. Ages cried out in grief as he tried to block Jenner's path.

Jenner swept him to one side with a snarl and lunged after Mrs. Brisby as Sullivan ran to get Justin.

"Justin!  Justin," Sullivan cried out to the brown rat in grief.

Soon Jenner saw what was going on, who ran between Jenner and Mrs. Brisby. "Jenner, stop this," he frowned at the evil rat.

Soon the amulet around Mrs. Brisby's neck glimmered in Jenner's eyes.

"The Stone…" Jenner said, feeling entranced.

"Jenner…" Justin warned his fellow rat.

"Get out of my road," Jenner frowned, pushed Justin backward and slashed at him with his sword for good measure.

The sword connected with Justin's arm, making the brown rat flinch with pain.

"I want that Stone," Jenner frowned as soon as he came towards Mrs. Brisby.

Jenner jumped at Mrs. Brisby, and tried to catch the amulet from around her neck as she fought as hard as she could.

"Jenner," Justin frowned before running up and kicking Jenner off the widowed mouse.

Soon Justin fought Jenner in the mud until Sullivan came back.

"Justin!  Justin, my sword," Sullivan cried out in grief as he threw Justin his sword.

Jenner, in fury, slashed Sullivan open, making him fall to the ground, yet breathing...for now.

"It was you.  You did it!  I murdered Nicodemus," Justin frowned at Jenner, "that wasn't an incident!"

"Yes.  I murdered him," Jenner frowned back as the fight continued.

Justin struck furiously at Jenner, but Jenner's greater size and strength eventually sent Justin tumbling from the top of the rock face down into the mud. Jenner descended from the top slowly, savoring the moment.

"He wanted to destroy everything," Jenner continued from what he was saying, "I've learned so much; take what you can, if you can!"

"Then you haven't learned anything," Justin frowned.

Jenner raised his sword to strike, but Justin got to his feet under a piece of wreckage and kicking it up, blocking Jenner's path. Jenner got up again as the fight briefly continued until he struck low under Jenner's sword, piercing him in the belly. Jenner shrieked and dropped his sword.

A short distance away, Sullivan was yet breathing weakly.

Then Justin turned to the rest of the rats, and threw his sword away. "Friends, tonight we're traveling to Thorn Valley," he warned them, "we will leave a trace.  No evidence that the mice of NIMH ever existed…come."

Unknown to Justin, Jenner was above him, ready to strike him. Mrs. Brisby pointed and gasped, trying to warn Justin what was going on right behind him. Then luckily, Justin whirled right as Jenner raised his sword to strike, but Sullivan pulled a dagger from his belt and with the last moment of his life, he threw it into Jenner's back.

"I dub thee...EXCALIBUR," Sullivan yelled out, striking Jenner's sword out of the rat's hands.

Soon Jenner let out a loud, anguished shriek as he toppled from the stone and fell to the ground, he growled in frustration before shouting out an enraged "SARABI!!"

This yell was so loud that it echoed across Thorn Valley. Suddenly, some bubbling was heard under the mud as the Brisby home started to sink.

"Hello, is anyone up there," Martin's voice called out.

"Martin," Mrs. Brisby asked as she ran up to the side of her house.

"Mum," Martin called to her.

"Mother, have we almost moved," Teresa asked.

"Soon, now…" Mrs. Brisby said before burying her face in her paws in despair until soon she realized something, "it's sinking...it's sinking...Justin, the block!  It's sinking!"

This caught everyone's attention.

"What," Justin asked until he saw the block sinking and jumped into action, "c'mon!"

Soon everyone rushed over to help out the Brisbys since this wasn't a happy sight for any of them. Soon the other rats swarmed into the block to continue helping out even if the situation looked hopeless.

"There must be a....a collapse downstairs," Mr. Ages suggested.

Soon Justin joined Mrs. Brisby on top of her home. "Here, tie these lines together.  I'll get a line around the stone," he suggested, "Brutus, run, catch some rope.  Tie off these block-lines.  Hurry up, c'mon!  Move it!"

Then the Brisby home was rapidly filling with muck.

"Mother!  Mother," Teresa cried out in grief.

"What's all that black stuff," Cynthia asked, seeing the muck.

"C'mon, Teresa, sit up on the table," Martin warned his older sister before frowning down at his younger sister, who had clung to his leg, "lift me up!"

"What about Timmy," Teresa frowned.

"Get us out of here," Martin warned her.

"Mother," Teresa cried out in grief.

On top of the block, one of the makeshift lines snapped.

Justin used that time to run to the bank to get more rope, leaving Mrs. Brisby on the block alone. "Another line!  Catch a rope!  Hurry up," he commanded.

"Justin," Mrs. Brisby called out to the rat.

Justin threw Mrs. Brisby a life ring as the block had sunk so far that anyone approaching risked being sucked down.

That did it. His work was ruined, and where it was holding up the Brisby home until the amulet around Mrs. Brisby's neck started to glow.

Mrs. Brisby looked over and saw the glowing amulet. "Courage of the heart is very rare," Nicodemus said as she memorized, "the Stone has a strength if it's there."

Soon Mrs. Brisby held onto the amulet, but only for a while before she let go as it burned.

Then Mrs. Brisby tried to hold onto the amulet as she let it go and soon, a deep power seemed to console her.

Soon the rope connecting to the Brisby home floated up to Mrs. Brisby. Soon Mrs. Brisby caught the rope and the power of the amulet ran down it onto the mud. Soon, the mud was glowing and churning as the block raised up with light streaming from it in all directions, eventually floating free above the ground. Mrs. Brisby guided it over to the hole stuffed by the rats, and lowered it into place.

The rats gathered around the widowed mouse, who seemed to have passed out in exhaustion.

The next day came and where Timmy was starting to awaken. Soon Teresa bandaged up Mrs. Brisby's hands.

"Mum, I'm sick of bed, I want to get up," Timmy spoke up.

"Well, you're not awake," Mrs. Brisby warned him, making him sulk.

"Miss Briz!  Oh, Briz," Jeremy's voice called out, "where are you?"

"Over here," Mrs. Brisby called back to him.

"Here it is!  I brought all the mess," Jeremy beamed as he came over, dumping an entire mess. "There's yet a lot of where this came from.  I have a connection," he realized something, "hey!  Your house has moved!  Oh, dear!  What are you going to do with this string?"

"Oh, you'll think about something," Mrs. Brisby said.

"Ah, what do you use it for," Jeremy sighed heavily as he turned and started to walk off with his head down low, "what's a man like me going to do with the nest of love any matter?"

Then out of nowhere, another crow flew in and where it was a female as she smashed into Jeremy. The others looked over in a bit of surprise.

"Excuse me, forgive me," Jeremy said to the female crow.

"Excuse me, forgive me," the female crow replied.

"Look, Mummy!  Another turkey," Cynthia pointed out as she crept closer to the grass for a better look.

"Be there," Jeremy warned the female crow before exploding out of the grass, sending Cynthia running for shelter as he came to the widowed mouse hopefully, "Miss Briz!  Miss Briz!  Let me have the glitter!  I just gotta have that five G's!  Miss B, I have to do it!  Girls can't exist shining, oh, please!  Pleeeeeeeaaase?!"

"I gave it to Justin," Mrs. Brisby warned him.

"Justin," Jeremy asked, "who is Justin?"

"Leader of Smashed Team," Mrs. Brisby nodded to that.

"The rat leader," Jeremy yelped to the widowed mouse, "how can I do this to me?  What do I say?  Mrs. B, what have I done?"

"Well, uh…" Mrs. Brisby paused.

"Athletic," Jeremy spoke up.

"Yes, athletic," Mrs. Brisby added.

"Oh!  Yes!  Athletic!  I'll just be a little--AAUGH," Jeremy said as soon as he ran, but tripped over Cynthia, vanishing back into the grasses.

Cynthia went to the undergrowth and soon she heard some laughter. She peered out and found that Jeremy and the female crow were both fully tangled in his string, laughing and barking their heads off.

Soon Cynthia went back to Mrs. Brisby.

"Mum, did the mice really go to Thorn Valley," Teresa asked.

"Yes, they did," Mrs. Brisby nodded.

"Do we ever see them," Martin asked.

"Maybe," Mrs. Brisby shrugged.

"Today," Cynthia grinned.

"No," Mrs. Brisby laughed, "if you're older."

"Briiiiisby," Auntie Shrew's voice called out.

"Oh!  Auntie Shrew," Teresa realized.

"Oh, Auntie," Cynthia called out.

"Oh, dear," Martin moaned.

Soon Jeremy and his new girlfriend flew off together to live happily ever after on their own.