All the buildings had been carved from the blue-grey rock of the great cavern; their walls were rough with the marks of a mason’s chisel and in patches, where veins of the phosphorescent mineral were embedded, they glowed, lighting up the alleyways.
Eventually, when I was totally confused and had lost all sense of direction, Tom stopped me and peered round a corner.
‘We really don’t want a scruffer to spot us,’ he said, looking left and right. ‘Now! Come on!’ And he was off again. I followed, hot on his heels, out of the narrow alley and into a wide, open square, where I saw the castle for the first time!
The Castle
The great fortress loomed high above us, and I stopped and stared in wonder. Its thick walls had been painted white, making the whole palace shine under the rock light. The conical roofs of its huge towers were covered with terracotta tiles and it looked just like a fairytale castle.
Before I had time to take it all in, Tom pulled my sleeve and we went racing across the square towards the quayside, where a series of jetties stuck out over the muddy shore of the Wide Subterrestrial Sea.
‘Jump!’ yelled Tom, and I launched myself from the end of the jetty and landed with a squelch, knee-deep in the mud of the flats below. ‘This way,’ he went on, guiding me under the jetty and towards the harbour wall, where a series of wide drainpipes led under the square.
The Mudskippers
As I got used to the gloom under the jetty, I realized we were not alone. There was a crowd of children, all up to their calves in mud, bent double and silently sifting through the gloopy gunge with their hands.
Occasionally, one of them would bring up an item from the mud, rinse it in a puddle, examine it and either throw it back or put it in a sack hanging from their belt.
‘Mornin’, Tom,’ came a voice from the shadows, and Eliza came over, mud dripping from her collecting bag. ‘You all set?’
‘Sure,’ said Tom. I wished I had his confidence, because my knees were knocking together like a pair of castanets! ‘How did it go with the Trog slaves last night?’
‘Good news! It’s just like we ’oped,’ said Eliza, her big eyes shining bright in the gloom. ‘If the townsfolk will ’elp, the Trog slaves will fight their dreaded guards! They’re just waitin’ for the word.’
‘Brilliant,’ said Tom. ‘But first Charlie and I need to recce the castle. We’ll know more when we’ve talked to the King and tracked down Charlie’s friend. Let’s meet at my ’ouse this evenin’. Then we can put the last touches to our plans!’
‘You bet,’ said Eliza. ‘Good luck.’
‘Ready, Charlie?’ asked Tom. ‘Come on then. I’ll take you right to the ’eart of the castle – the King’s throne room!’
I gave a loud gulp as we waded through the thick mud into the deepest shadows below the quayside.
Down The Drains!
I followed Tom into the mouth of the drain that led under the cobbled square and right beneath the castle itself. As soon as the light faded, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a lump of stone marbled with the phosphorescent mineral that illuminated the whole of the great cavern. It gave off enough light for us to find our way along the wide, stinking waterway.
We waded through ankle-deep sludge, and every now and then Tom’s hand darted into the murky water and brought out a scrap of food. It was as if he had a sixth sense because I couldn’t see anything at all, and soon his bag was bulging with his meagre finds. All I was aware of was the overpowering smell of rancid food and stagnant water.
After a while the tunnel widened out into a brick-lined, arched chamber, into which a number of other drainage channels emptied.
‘This way,’ whispered Tom, leading me along the new channel, which climbed steeply until it levelled out below an iron grille. Looking up, I could see we were under the castle’s huge and busy kitchen. Above us, the Head Chef was barking orders to his team of Sous Chefs, Pastry Chefs and Line Cooks, who were frantically chopping and rolling and salting the food that filled the tables.
‘Oh, just smell that delicious food!’ said Tom, closing his eyes and holding his rumbling tummy. ‘And to think it must be going to feed the Shadow and his henchmen, while my poor old ma is sitting at ’ome with only a crust of bread. It ain’t fair.’
Just then, a scrap of raw pastry dropped off one of the tables and fell right through the grille. Tom’s hand shot out as fast as a striking snake, caught it and put it in his sack.
‘Come on,’ he whispered, pulling on my sleeve, and we carried on along the drain below the kitchen, past a series of small and extremely smelly pipes, until we were standing below another grille. This time Tom signalled for a leg-up and I clasped my hands together into a stirrup for his foot.
I hoisted him up and Tom pushed at the iron grating. It fell back with a clatter, and he waited for the noise to die away before levering himself through the hole. As soon as he was up, he pulled me after him.
Between The Walls
Now we were in a tall, dry passage. I followed Tom as he crept along, holding up his piece of light rock and glancing every now and then at his plan of the castle. Soon we came to where a new passage led off to the left.
‘This way,’ whispered Tom. Just then, I tripped over some loose stones and fell against the side wall.
‘Shhh! A Trog guard might hear us!’
‘Sorry!’ I whispered, and followed more carefully.
We took another turn, and climbed some little stone steps to the next floor. Soon I could see a square of light ahead, and as we got nearer I saw it was a ventilation grille set into the wall.
‘Take a look,’ whispered Tom, and I peered over his shoulder. There, sitting on his throne and staring into space, was the King, a tiny, mud-grey little man, and possibly the saddest-looking person I’ve ever seen.
The King Of Subterranea
The King sat with his head in his hands, sighing and muttering to himself.
‘I won’t have it,’ he said. ‘Enough is enough. I’ve got to tell him straight: I’m in charge and he’s got to clear off and leave my people alone. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. He doesn’t scare me … Oh dear, who am I trying to kid? What on earth can I do?’
Just then, the big doors to the throne room burst open with a crash, and in stormed a tall man dressed in black.
The Shadow Of Subterranea In Person!
A shudder went down my spine as the malevolent masked figure marched up to the King. His hat was pulled down low on his head, which was thrust forward from his long black coat like a tortoise peering from its shell. The scariest thing about him was the shiny metal mask that covered his face. It was sharp and angular, with a spike of a nose and a long, vicious-looking chin. The figure’s piercing, angry eyes blazed from behind two narrow slits.
That’s the Shadow,’ whispered Tom a little unnecessarily.
‘I guessed that!’ I said.
‘You wanted to see me,’ the Shadow said impatiently. ‘What do you want? Hurry up, I haven’t got all day.’
The King stood up nervously. ‘I – I’ve had enough!’ he stammered. ‘You’ve got to stop treating my subjects so badly – you’ve –’
‘WHAT?’ bellowed the Shadow, shaking with anger.
‘Give my people food,’ said the King, his voice fading away to a petrified squeak. ‘They are starving. I want you out of here, you great bully.’
‘Good for you, Your Majesty,’ whispered Tom. ‘Stand up to the creep.’
‘Aren’t you forgetting who’s in charge here?’ growled the Shadow, stepping threateningly towards the King. ‘Aren’t you forgetting about your pretty, precious wife?’
The King collapsed back onto the throne. ‘What have you done with her?’ he asked. ‘When can I see her again?’
‘I’ve told you: you can see her just as soon as my work is done. Until then, you must do exactly as you’re told, or she will end up at the bottom of the fiery pit, like all the others who have dared to disobey me.’
‘So that’s why the Shadow ’as such power over the King,’ whispered Tom. ‘He’s taken the Queen hostage.’
‘You evil despot!’ screeched the King. ‘At least give my people food. You can’t need it all.’
The Shadow started to get angry again. He marched around the room, gesticulating wildly; and somewhere at the back of my mind, I realized there was something very familiar about this figure. You know this man, I said to myself. But who is he?
‘When are you going to learn, you royal twit,’ thundered the Shadow. ‘I need all the food I can get for my henchmen. They need their strength to keep these wretched slaves in order. Soon, when that whiskered buffoon has finished making my marvellous mechanical mole, I can speed up my operation.’
‘And then you’ll leave us in peace?’ asked the miserable King.
‘And then I’ll leave you in peace … and in darkness, I’m afraid, for I intend to take every last seam of light that runs through this godforsaken Underworld.’
‘But if you leave us in the dark, there’s no way my people will survive!’
‘Not my problem, Your Majesty. All I’m interested in is taking the rocks of light above ground. Imagine the riches I will accrue, selling this miraculous mineral up there. No more need for oil lamps, or gas lamps, or electric light bulbs. Whole cities are going to be illuminated by my rock light, and I will be the richest man in the world before a month has passed. Ha-ha, ha-ha!’
‘You’re nothing but a cowardy custard, hiding behind that mask,’ said the King. ‘If I knew the Queen was safe, I would kick you out of my kingdom for good.’
‘Oh, you are so amusing, Your Majesty,’ laughed the Shadow. ‘Now, if that’s all you wanted, I must go and see how the idiot inventor is getting on with my mole!’ With that he turned on his heel and swept out of the throne room.
‘Come on,’ I said. ‘We’ve got to follow him. He said he’s going to see the inventor. That must be Jakeman. He’ll know what to do.’
‘OK!’ said Tom. ‘Let’s go!’
Sneaking About Like Rats!
We rushed along the secret passage and down some steps to another air vent in the wall. Looking out, we saw the Shadow crossing the great hall.
‘What now?’ I asked, watching our quarry disappear through a small door on the far side.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Tom. ‘I’ve been through ’ere before.’ He gave the grating a good tug, pulling it from the wall with hardly a sound, and we stepped cautiously into the hall.
‘Quiet now!’ he hissed, replacing the grating into the hole. ‘The throne room is just at the top of that big flight of stairs. We must make sure the guards don’t see us.’
We scampered noiselessly across the great hall, crouching low and dodging behind bits of furniture to avoid being seen.
Then we were through the door on the far side and pattering down a narrow spiral staircase, until we were deep beneath the castle; deeper even than the drains we had entered by. We came to a long, dark passage. It was lined with wide buttresses to support the rickety walls, and there, right at the other end, was the Shadow. He was standing with his back towards us, outside a heavy door with a barred window in the middle.
‘Quick!’ I whispered, and we dived behind a buttress for cover. I watched as the Shadow took a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. Then he did the most surprising thing. He reached under his chin and ripped away the mask … and I got the shock of my life!
An Old, Old Enemy!
‘It’s Craik!’ I croaked before I could stop myself.
I’d recognize that face anywhere, with its large, square jaw and the livid scar running through the stubble of the left cheek.
Craik spun round to see where the noise had come from. He clumped along the passage in his heavy shoes, looking about him. Finally, he stopped, just the other side of our hiding place. Everything went very quiet, and Tom and I held our breath, our hearts beating like billy-o! Eventually, Craik turned and marched back along the passage. He heaved open the door and went inside. Tom and I let out our breath.
‘Close one!’ whispered Tom. ‘Who’s Craik?’
‘He’s a double-crossing, low-down, no-good son of a snake,’ I replied.
‘Wow! You really don’t like ’im, do you?’ said Tom.
‘He’s my deadliest enemy, Tom. I robbed him when I sailed with the pirates and he swore to follow me to the ends of the earth and see me hang!’
Just then, we heard raised voices coming from the room ahead.
‘That’s Jakeman!’ I said. ‘Stay here, Tom. I’m going to have a closer look.’
‘No, Charlie …’ whispered Tom, but I was already halfway to the door. It was standing ajar, and I warily peered round it.
There, in a room brightly lit by rock lights, was my friend Jakeman. At last I’d found him! He stood next to a huge machine that had a tangled mass of wires spewing from its side.
It was a huge grey hulk of a thing, made of thick metal plates and bolted together with a thousand rivets. At one end of the contraption was a large corkscrew nose, encircled by a spiral blade edged with glittering diamonds. It was awesome.
Around it hung tools of every description; workbenches and lathes stood along one side of the room; plans and working drawings littered the floor, and Jakeman’s scribbles covered a large blackboard against the far wall.
‘I can’t say when it will be ready,’ Jakeman was explaining. ‘A week, maybe two.’
‘That’s not good enough, you old fool,’ screamed Craik. Then, stepping towards my pal, he grabbed him round the throat. ‘I’ve a good mind to fling you into the pit,’ he growled.
I gasped in fear, and this time Craik not only heard me – but with one swift movement he dropped Jakeman, swept over to the door and grabbed me by the scruff of the neck as I tried to scramble away. With a loud hiss, like the low-down snake he was, Craik threw me into the room.
Jakeman At Last!
I landed next to the huge, oily machine.
‘Charlie!’ cried Jakeman, helping me to my feet.
‘Hello, Mr Jakeman.’ I smiled. ‘I’ve been looking for you!’
‘Well, well, if it isn’t my old pal, Charlie Small,’ spat Craik, curling his top lip into a sneer and exposing a row of rotting teeth. ‘I thought you might turn up, you little pest.’
‘I thought you’d been squished under the Icicle Arch,’ I said defiantly.
‘Oh, you wish!’ said Craik. ‘I’ll tell you exactly what happened, shall I, you interfering worm? When you sent that colossal load of ice crashing down on top of me, the ground started to rumble and shudder beneath my feet. It split wide open, and I dropped right in. I fell and fell for such a long time I thought I would fall right through the earth! But, luckily for me, I ended up in the Underworld … and I didn’t have a scratch on me!’
‘And now you’ve bullied your way into taking over the whole of Subterranea. Typical!’ I cried.
‘Yes, I’ve managed to make quite a go of it down here,’ he said with a smirk. ‘It’s surprising what a creepy mask and a royal prisoner can do. Anyone who stands in my way ends up at the bottom of a big, fiery pit. It’s so easy – like taking candy from a baby.’
‘And what’s with the silly mask? It’s not scary,’ I lied.
‘Oh, I think it is,’ said Craik, holding it up. ‘Without it I’d be just a pink outsider. No more scary than you, Charlie. With this I’m terrifying; horrific; EVIL!’
To be quite honest, I thought he looked scarier without it.
‘But even though I’ve been busy down here, I never forgot my promise to you, Charlie,’ said Craik. ‘I have spies everywhere, and I heard all about your pathetic victories with the Daredevil Desperados of Destiny, and how you met up with Jakeman.
‘It just so happens I had need of Jakeman too, and when I heard he was trekking across the desert with a small boy in tow, I sent one of my Troglodyte guards up the tubes to get you both. Imagine my disappointment when he only turned up with on
e of my prizes; but I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist your meddling. I knew you’d be along eventually.’
‘Clear off, Craik,’ I muttered. ‘You didn’t scare me then and you don’t scare me now.’
‘Yes, leave him alone, or you’ll be sorry,’ growled Jakeman.
Another Horrible Surprise! (Yikes!!)
‘Big talk for a small boy and an old man,’ scoffed Craik. ‘Oh, I forgot – there’s another friend of yours you might like to meet, Charlie; someone who’s been helping me. I found her abandoned on the Betty Mae. Heaven knows how that old wreck ended up in the Wide Subterrestrial Sea, but she did, and who was still on board but – No, just a minute, here she is. Why don’t you say hello yourself?’
I turned round, not knowing who to expect – Captain Cut-throat perhaps, or Rawcliffe Annie, or any one of the bloodthirsty pirates I had sailed with. But it was worse than that. Much worse.
‘Bobo!’ I squealed as the malicious mandrill padded into the room. I’d hoped never to see her again. Bobo sat back on her haunches and bared her teeth in an ear-splitting scream.
‘Charlie Small!’ she grunted in Ape language, giving me a look of pure hatred. ‘Oh, how utterly delicious; what terrible chores can I dream up for you?’
‘I thought you’d be pleased to see your old pal. And you do remember my promise, don’t you, Charlie?’ said Craik, sticking out his tongue and miming someone being hanged. ‘For now, though, you can stay and help this idiot inventor finish my mining machine. Get a move on – you’ve got two days or it will turn out bad for the boy.’
Charlie in the Underworld Page 6
