by Piers Torday
The only thing for it is to pedal on, overriding the engine. Now in total blackness, fol lowing the ridge of the tracks as my guide. I only hope that another formula delivery isn’t due soon. The tunnel seems to stretch on forever, blackness ahead of me, blackness behind.
All the while, the whispering grows louder and louder, as if it is rising out of the ground itself. The chants start to pierce and stab in my head, as if I’m being attacked.
I have to get out of this tunnel.
Sweat runs down my forehead and into my eyes.
The whispering grows louder and louder, and I can no longer think, and begin to feel dizzy.
The handlebars grow slippery with sweat, and the bike swerves as it bounces into a rail, and then I judder off the tracks on to the chippings and bump along as I try to find the rail again to guide me.
My foot sticks out in the dark, trying to feel for the metal rail, but the lines seem to be widening, drifting apart, and the bike is bouncing along the space in between the tracks when I hit the concrete block –
A spare sleeper, just chucked to the side –
The front wheel hits it hard with a bump, and the back of the bike tips up, sending me flying over the handlebars.
I thrust my arms out in front of my face, bracing for the fall, the cut and bump of sharp chippings against my head and hands …
But they never come.
I’m falling –
And falling.
Wherever I am, it’s cold.
Deep bone cold, like the sun has never reached here. There is not one ray of light, not one shaft or crack to tell me whether it is still early morning or the next night.
The whispering that led me here seems to have faded back into the ground.
Although my head hurts – a large bump swelling on the front of my head, too painful to touch – the rest of me seems still together. Both my arms move up and down, and I can stretch my legs out, wiggle my toes and twist my neck from side to side. There is spongy soil beneath me, firm enough to have knocked me out but nothing worse.
*General, are you OK?* I say, remembering my passenger.
There is no reply.
*General?*
Feeling around with my hands over the ground, there is no sign of either a cockroach or an oily chain or spinning wheel or anything that might be a bike. I hope for a moment that perhaps at least the headlamp has come loose with me, but all I can feel with my hands are clumps of gritty earth.
Which is when I remember my watch. I feel for the button and press it, showing the time with a luminous glow. It’s six in the morning, but you wouldn’t know it from the blackness down here.
I try to stand up, and can. I wave my hands around till I hit something. A metal panel. Aiming the watch light, I can see the panel forms one side of a shaft that slopes up and away from me. Towards the surface, and open air, I bet – a maintenance shaft for the train track, or some kind of drain.
I try to scramble up, but the sides are too smooth to get a grip, and time after time I slither back into the pit with a bump.
I unstrap my watch and shine it around to see if there is anything I’m missing. Maybe a ledge, the rungs of a ladder or even a hole in the ground. But there’s nothing. Only tightly packed walls of concrete blocks stretching far above my head on four sides, at the bottom of a slippery metal shaft. I’m trapped in a concrete box with no easy way out.
I swing my watch light around one more time, just to be sure I haven’t missed a crack or a hole, when –
What was that?
Am I imagining it?
No. I’m not. There they are, in the corner. Two white dots of reflected light.
Eyes.
*Dagger?* I say.
There’s no reply, apart from a scratch in a corner of the box, like something moved. I whirl round with the watch, but there’s only more concrete, silent and still in the pale glow.
Then there are more scratches behind me. I whip round again, and just spot a blurred shadow slipping out of sight, on the fringe of the watch’s beam.
Surprised, I drop the watch.
Now I’m blind again, sinking to my knees and fumbling around on the ground to find my one light source. My hands hunt in the dark for the plastic strap and find nothing but soil, gravel and – fur.
Greasy fur over a warm body that pulses and squirms away from my touch.
I jerk my hand and fall back on the floor –
Then the fur grows legs, running over and around me. A tail whisks, teeth chatter.
Silence.
I can’t see anything without my watch. But I know there is another creature in this pit with me somewhere: watching, waiting.
*Hello?* I say, my hands held up to cover my face.
Whatever is there doesn’t speak, but it’s not Dagger; it was too small to be a dog – and certainly not a wolf. But those legs and tail did not belong to a mouse.
There’s a snuffle in the corner, more chattering of teeth.
I sit up now, straining to see in the gloom. And there are those eyes again, staring back at me from the corner of the concrete box.
The eyes of a very big rat.
*I come in peace, Rat,* I begin. *I’m sorry if I—*
I’m interrupted by a very big, drawn-out sigh, followed by a very miserable voice. *Yes, yes, off you go.*
The voice is so flat it sounds like it’s bumping along the ground towards me. *You’re just like all the rest. You’re sorry but you have to go. If I had a piece of grain for every time I’d heard that—*
*No, you don’t understand …*
*What is there to understand?* says the voice, with another long sigh. *What’s the point? Off you go, follow the others, have a nice life, thanks for dropping in. I’ll just get back to being on my own. It’s all I deserve really.*
Then there’s a snuffling, and I can hear the rat start to scratch and poke around the box, his long tail frisking over the uneven ground. As he does, he half sings to himself, almost as if he thinks he can’t be heard.
*I’m a lonely rat, as lonely as can be.
Old and fat, don’t mind me!
Don’t take a second glance, don’t say another word.
Why should you stay, that would be absurd!
I’m a lonely rat, as lonely as can be …*
*But, Rat, I’m not going anywhere.* And leaning my head back against the smooth metal of the shaft, I add, *I’m really not.*
*Promises, promises,* says the rat, muffled, like he has his back to me. *And just so you know – the longer you do stay, the more miserable I am bound to be when you leave. So there really is no point in prolonging the inevitable disappointment, is there?*
*But I can’t leave! I’m trapped!*
*Yes, yes, I suppose we’re all trapped,* ponders the rat. *Trapped in our thoughts, no way out of the misery.*
I can imagine Polly rolling her eyes.
*No – I’m actually trapped, Rat, in this hole with you.*
There’s a patter of feet, and I can feel the rat draw near. He leaps up to nip my ear and I cry out in pain, jerking away. *What did you do that for?*
*To see if you were real. I’ve never met a human who can talk properly before.*
*And are you satisfied?*
The rat gives a groan that is so long and ghostly it could be wind blowing down the shaft. *I’m never satisfied, human. And you chattering on like any old rat is a bit off-putting, if you don’t mind my saying. But at least you haven’t disappeared immediately, not like the others.*
A prickle of fear and excitement runs across the back of my neck.
*What others?* I say.
*They didn’t talk to me, of course. Why would they? I’m just a fat old rat who nobody cares about any more.*
He edges a bit closer. I put my hand out and feel that, in fact, the rat is anything but fat. He’s long and skinny, nothing but loose fur, poking ribs and claws.
*An old, fat rat,* he repeats in a voice nearly as young as mine, *left her
e to rot till the flesh falls off my bones.*
*Rat,* I say, as cool as can be, ignoring the sound of my heart thudding in my chest. *These others—*
*Barging straight in,* the rat continues, as if he hasn’t heard me. *Not even a how-do-you-do – just ran straight past me as if I wasn’t here, when they know perfectly well—*
*Please!* I don’t even bother to hide the frustration in my voice this time. *Rat, this is really important. You have to listen to me.*
There’s another unhappy wail from the darkness, like a rattle of wind chimes.
*But of course, I should know better by now. There’s always something more important than a useless fat old rat to think about. It’s all right for them lot – places to go, animals to see …*
I spell out my words as clearly as I can. *Them lot, those rude others who … ignored you. Were they …? Did you see a white dog following some wolves?*
And then, to my surprise, the miserable rat begins to snicker. He begins to chortle, chattering his fangs. I can feel him shaking softly from side to side. He’s laughing. I’ve made the most miserable rat in the world laugh.
*Oh splendid,* he splutters. *That is good, I must say, really quite priceless. Oh dearie me, you poor fool, you’re even more of a lost cause than me. That does make me feel a bit better.* He scampers on to my chest. *Did you actually think the dog was following the wolves?*
I can feel his whiskers brush my chin. His claws clamp into my belly, pressing me down. He doesn’t seem so young any more.
*Yes, the dog chased after the wolves down the railway track, following them into the tunnel …*
The rat laughs. A ratty laugh, honking all over my face. *Oh dearie me, I really do take it all back. You are the most entertaining visitor I’ve had in moons.*
He leans right in, and even in the gloom I can see the sharp flash of his bared incisors, as he hisses straight into my head. *But he wasn’t following them, you foolish visitor from above. He was guiding them.*
A feeling of dread tightens round my heart. *Where? To what?*
*Why – to his lair, of course.*
PART 3: UNDEREARTH
I push the rat on to the floor of our underground prison with a flump.
*What do you mean? What’s this really about?*
The rat is less miserable now, darting around me in the dark, pricking his claws into the soil with each word. It’s like the more stupid I seem, the happier he is. *Ah, well, that’s for me to know and you to guess, isn’t it?*
And he scuttles back off into a corner. I can see I’m going to have to try a different tactic.
On all fours, feeling my way towards the sound of his grinding teeth, my fingers find my watch and I shine it once more in the rat’s face.
The two orbs of his eyes reflect the light back with a ghostly glow, and his sluggish body recoils from the flash. He covers his face with his short front paws. *Put that away! Why are you trying to look at me?*
*I’m just trying to look around and find out what’s actually going on down here.*
*There’s no point in that,* he says. *Nothing worth looking at here, I can assure you. Hasn’t been for years.*
I try to argue and tell him to stop being so stupid, but he won’t back down. *You will discover that, in the Underearth, looking is not nearly as important as listening.*
*What’s the—*
*Shh. Please. Not so much talking, I’m simply not used to it.* He tucks his tail behind him. *Now, that’s more like it. If you want to find out more about your friends, try listening for once.*
If he had any idea how many times I’ve had to do that … But I keep quiet, crouch with him in the corner and listen.
*Wait,* he orders.
Then, with his sharp little paws, the rat scratches and nips at three blocks right in one corner of the concrete wall. The surrounding mortar comes away like dust. In its place there is a soft breeze from below, wafting through the fresh cracks in the wall.
And with the breeze comes something else. I can hear it again.
The whispering I heard from the drain, that I heard in the tunnel, leading me on. Except they don’t sound like whispers now, they sound like humming and chanting.
Animals chanting, in some echoing chamber below. Thousands of animals, so many voices of all kinds. Sometimes it is just humming, and sometimes there are words:
*The earth will rise!*
Leaning in hard against the wall to hear more, I topple forward and land on a jumble of hard edges, as the blocks fall out of place under my weight. Picking myself up, cool air blowing fast in my face now, the chanting all around us, I shine the watch towards the sound and see – a tunnel, dimly lit by a bluish glow rising up from its depths, that seems to pulse with the chanting.
I start to head towards it, only to find the rat has scooted ahead and is rearing up, his fangs and claws raised at me.
*Halt! No one shall pass!*
*But I told you, I’m following that dog—*
*No one shall go to the Underearth past this sentry without permission.* He pauses, clutching a claw to his head. *And please turn that light machine off – I’ve got a sore eye. If only you knew how I struggle with my eyes down here. It’s a curse, it really is.*
The chanting rises and falls behind him.
*We have heard dark calls in our tunnels,* the mouse said. *Dark calls don’t exist, they’re only tales to scare the young ones,* said the General.
This sounds very real to me.
*I’m sorry, Rat, I have to go down there. I’m a Wildness.* I can just see him shake his head from side to side.
*Not down here, you’re not.*
I flash my watch again and see that the rat has curled up in front of the bricks, blocking the entrance to the tunnel, while he inspects his claws.
Yet the call of the Underearth, the songs of these tunnels, are drawing me on, whether I like it or not. So I try another approach, shuffling back from the tunnel, towards the shaft I fell down.
*Right. In that case, I’m going!*
*It will be very hard to leave the way you came in,* the rat says, still coiled up, although not sounding quite as smug as before. *The only way out is through this secret tunnel behind me.*
For a moment Polly’s face swims into view in my mind. Polly just as trapped as me, in the Four Towers. Right now I couldn’t be further from helping her escape. But the rat’s right. I’m also trapped. I can’t get out the way I came in. And no one knows I’m here.
Which is when I have an idea.
*That’s what you think. How do you know I can’t summon help on this human light machine? I could be out of here any time I wanted.*
Before I know it, the rat is throwing himself at my feet, wailing, *Please don’t go, the human who fell from above! Please don’t leave me here all alone! Not another one!*
I stand up.
*Only if you promise to take me to this … Underearth.*
The rat starts to sob. For the first time, I almost begin to feel sorry for him. Almost. *But I can’t … If only you knew … I’m such a disgrace to my wild, you see. They all hate me … I’m forbidden.*
*What do you mean, forbidden?*
*They … They exiled me here, to guard the entrance to their lair.*
I crouch down. The Guardians drove the stag and me out of his wild as well. They exiled their own wolf-cub. I know how this rat feels. I stroke his ratty head.
*Who exiled you? Why?*
He sounds his saddest and most ashamed. *I … I didn’t agree with their plans. So they banished me.*
*Who? What plans?* I shine the watch bright in his eyes, grabbing his jaw. *What plans, Rat? You have to tell me!*
He twists away out of my grip, his face drooping with sadness. *But I can’t. They will kill me.*
We pause, the breeze and sounds from below blowing around us and in our heads. *Rat … if I promise not to leave you here, will you show me what lies down that tunnel?*
*What?* The rat is still sobbin
g to himself.
*If I promise not to leave you, like the others – will you show me this … Underearth?*
He is wiping his face, as if there are tears to dry away. *You promise? Not to leave me?*
I feel heavy as I say it, but I don’t know why – I am sure my wild will welcome this rat as one of their own, once we have escaped from this dungeon. *I promise.*
The rat is scampering round and round in circles of excitement. *You really promise? You aren’t lying like all the others?*
*I give you my word. As a Wildness.*
*Then let me be your guide, new friend!*
Without another word, he turns about, his tail waggling in my face as he slinks over the blocks into the tunnel entrance. I slowly start to follow on my hands and knees, crouching low as we crawl together towards the breeze, all thoughts of my friends and the Iris fading away as the blue light and music lead us on, deeper and deeper into the earth.
Straight after leaving the concrete box, the ground begins to slope sharply down. I don’t know what I’m going to find down here. I just hope the others will forgive me for following these chants and whispers instead of doing what I said I would. All I know is everything started to go wrong the moment that dog appeared.
And I need to find out why.
The rat scampers along so fast on his paws that I struggle to keep up on my hands and knees.
*Try and stay close, my new friend for life!* he urges, before adding to himself, *Oh dearie me, I know I’m going to regret this. I always make bad decisions.*
I keep on crawling in silence, trying to ignore the pain in my shoulders, the cuts on my hands and elbows, the powdered stone choking my throat. A few moments later, the rat twists back to eyeball me –
*But you aren’t ever going to leave me though, are you, new friend? Not ever? Promise?*
I nod as best I can in the narrow tunnel. I thought it might be warm and damp down here, but the further we go, the colder it gets. As we wind our way further below the earth, I flash my watch at the walls of the twisting passage to get an idea of where we’re going.
To try and remember the way back.
