by Glenn Dakin
This reckless attitude shocked Theo quite as much as Lord Dove popping up from the park in the garb of a tramp.
Lord Dove went pale and sombre again. He continued in a low voice. ‘Last night a work party went down into the network. A group of thirteen.’
‘I know,’ said Theo. ‘I waved them off.’
‘Half were found dead this morning.’
‘Dead?’ Theo felt a chill pass through him. He stared stupidly at his visitor, waiting for more.
‘I may be on the run, but I have a very efficient spying network in place. I monitor police communications. The rest of the work party appear to have escaped – and are now somewhere in the network.’ Lord Dove continued, ‘The survivors – as far as we know – include two of your friends . . . and my sole son and heir, Frederick.’
Theo felt weak, but also giddy with relief. Whatever terrible thing had happened, his friends had escaped it.
‘Why – why have you come to me?’ Theo asked.
‘I want you to help find my son,’ Lord Dove said. ‘He is obviously in terrible danger. Every second could count. But the police –’ he suddenly looked exhausted and bitter – ‘the police are shutting down every known way into the network.’
‘Yes,’ said Theo. ‘They stopped me going in earlier.’
‘There are terrible creatures on the loose down there,’ Lord Dove said. ‘I’ve heard police reports –’
‘I know,’ interrupted Theo. He did not want to mention Chloe. ‘I – I’ve seen them. I destroyed one last night.’
‘Destroyed one!’ Lord Dove exclaimed with excitement. ‘Yes, there . . . I knew you could do it! I knew I should come to you.’
For a moment it seemed to Theo that Lord Dove gazed at him with a look of awe.
‘But what can I do?’ Theo asked.
‘You’re the Candle Man,’ Lord Dove said. ‘There are things you can do that no one else can. In the Society we’ve all heard rumours of the old stories. If half of what we’ve heard is true, then . . .’ His words faltered, as if he dared not give voice to his hopes.
A strange, desolate feeling welled up inside Theo. ‘If I’m so special then why did you all try to kill me?’ he asked bluntly. He tried to look tough, but inside he was quaking with emotion.
‘Dr Saint poisoned our minds against you,’ Lord Dove said. ‘He said the Wickland blood made you wild, uncontrollable. He said your power had to be contained, siphoned off and used without you knowing.’
Theo felt almost overcome with rage and misery for his wasted childhood of lies and captivity. For a moment he felt as if he could hardly stand. Taking a deep breath he supported himself, leaning against a chair.
‘Can I have one of those sausages?’ Lord Dove asked suddenly. Theo was glad for the distraction, glad not to be held by that glassy stare.
‘You see,’ said Lord Dove, ‘we didn’t know that our dear kind leader was secretly planning to become the Candle Man himself.’
Theo nodded. Lord Dove took some toast.
‘I haven’t eaten for thirty-six hours,’ he said through a big mouthful. Theo wasn’t surprised to hear that Lord Dove was starving. He knew from all his story books that bad men didn’t prosper, and not getting to eat much was the least he expected them to suffer.
Theo felt off-balance. Suddenly he remembered Chloe – how he wished that she were there to advise him! She would say it was bad tradecraft to let an enemy eat your breakfast or something clever like that.
‘So tell me,’ said Theo. ‘What can I do?’
Lord Dove jumped up as a heavy tread sounded at the door.
‘Rapscallion,’ said a lowered voice. It was Montmerency. ‘I think the time might be right, sir,’ he said. ‘I would get moving if I were you.’
‘All right,’ said Lord Dove. He turned back to Theo. ‘So will you help? If I give you the means to enter the network, will you go?’
Theo nodded. Freddie Dove was with Sam and Magnus. They were all survivors together. Anything Theo could do to help Freddie would also benefit his friends. It might – Theo hardly dared to hope – also lead him towards Chloe.
Lord Dove leant forwards. A little nerve was quivering under the haggard man’s left eye.
‘Do you have the seal of the Society of Good Works?’ Lord Dove asked.
Theo nodded. The Society’s solicitor, Mr Sunder, had made it clear Theo should keep the seal secret, and near to him at all times. Theo had already used it once or twice, making documents official by pressing its symbol into wax.
Lord Dove now looked very nervous. Theo awaited what he had to say. He had the feeling that a lot depended on what Lord Dove was about to ask. The whiskery face drew nearer to him.
‘And have the police said anything to you about the ice house?’
‘No.’
‘Then let me show you a little secret.’
Chapter Eleven
The Capsule
‘Where are we?’ Sam whispered.
Darkness was all around them. The prisoners were exhausted after a long march down a series of broken stone stairways and winding tunnels. Every step of the way, thorny tendrils had slithered over their feet and around their ankles, reminding them of their peril. Now they had stopped on the edge of a big black crater, the rim of which could just be made out, due to a faint glow from within.
The air was full of drifting fumes. The distant rumble and clank of machinery reverberated all around them.
‘Judging from the acoustics,’ Magnus said, ‘my guess as to our location –’ Here he stopped and gasped for air, his eyes bulging. ‘Hurrrrgh!’
Magnus opened and shut his mouth like a drowning goldfish.
‘Great Scott,’ Freddie Dove gasped. ‘He’s going to drop dead!’
Sam slapped Magnus on the back.
‘No, he’s not,’ Sam said. ‘Magnus always does this. His eloquence is too long for his wind. Keep it short, eh, Grandad?’
The prisoners fell silent as one of the Sewer Rats walked by, then disappeared down a stairway into the crater. Sam went to peer down after him, but a tendril pulled him back sharply.
‘Don’t annoy them, you idiot!’ Freddie snapped.
‘I was going to say,’ whispered Magnus, ‘that I believe we have now reached the bottom of the Well Chamber, the great cavern where Dr Saint performed his experiments.’
Sam looked puzzled. ‘But – but I thought all this was destroyed in the big battle.’
Magnus nodded. ‘The great alchemical explosion did destroy the mechanical contrivances of the Well Chamber, but – hurrrgh – they appear to have awoken something else . . . underneath. There are old Society legends,’ he added, ending with a deep frown, and silence.
‘Go on,’ said Sam. ‘Don’t stop there!’
‘I don’t want to worry you,’ said Magnus.
‘For Pete’s sake!’ Sam exploded. ‘What could be more worrying than you saying: “I don’t want to worry you!”?’
‘Silence!’ bellowed Hollister, the enormous Sewer Rat chief.
‘The Mysteries must be respected,’ muttered Magnus, lapsing into silence.
‘But, Grandad – arrrgh!’ Sam cried out as he received a blow to the head from Hollister’s wooden staff. The great, bearded brute glowered at the captives then descended into the crater.
‘That’ll learn yer,’ the one-eyed Queasley snickered in passing. The Sewer Rats went ahead, leaving the prisoners alone again.
‘Yes,’ whispered Freddie, after a moment. ‘Shut up, Sam, for goodness sake. Didn’t your secret society teach you to whisper quietly when trapped by bloodthirsty maniacs? It’s on page one in my book!’
‘Ow!’ Sam fingered a bruise arising on his head. ‘Who are these charmers, anyway?’
‘They are Sewer Rats,’ said Magnus. ‘Rogue Foundlings and assorted villains who have made these tunnels their home. They formed themselves into a gang many – hurrrgh – years ago.’ Magnus reached into the pocket of his long brown coat, pulled out a little bro
wn bottle, then stuffed it into his nose and breathed deeply.
‘That’s better,’ he croaked. ‘Hollister’s their leader. He’s the worst of the lot – a bully,’ Magnus said. ‘Occasionally, this gang of pirates used to do a bit of dirty work for Dr Saint – I’ve spotted them on my monitors.’
Sam winced as a stinging tendril tugged at his leg, urging him to move. The captives were shoved towards the crater by one of the Sewer Rats.
‘Rest’s over,’ shouted Hollister, appearing again with a cracked grin on his ash-smeared face. ‘The boss is ready to see you now!’
A narrow staircase wound down the walls of the crater. The prisoners stumbled through a thick, foul-smelling darkness, lit by a faint fiery glow ahead. Finally, dry-mouthed and with stinging eyes, they emerged into an enormous cavern. How far it stretched could only be left to the imagination. Its jagged roof could be glimpsed in the fitful fires that spat and glowed from an enormous stone building that loomed before them.
The vast stone construction rose up and filled the cavern, in great steps, like the immense temple of some lost religion. Except there was one difference: this temple was dominated by an enormous chimney that rose like the cone of a volcano far up into the dark vault of the roof.
A couple of guards, armed with long rifles, greeted Hollister and the party of prisoners. Hollister turned, his eyes gleaming.
‘More fuel,’ he growled gleefully, ‘for the Furnace!’
‘Suppose they see us,’ Theo whispered. He was standing in the courtyard garden, a chilly breeze plucking at his coat.
‘We’ll be safe for now,’ Lord Dove replied. ‘Montmerency is taking care of the police that were hanging around.’
Theo went pale.
‘With doughnuts,’ added Lord Dove. ‘My own recipe. Sugar is a subtle weapon in my hands. I had Montmerency pretend that the cook made too many. Doughnuts will keep any guardian of the law occupied.’
Lord Dove raked his foot through the frosty mulch of decayed leaves that covered the ground behind the old Memorial. A drain cover appeared.
‘Entrance to the old ice house. Great mansions had these before fridges were invented. Rumour has it that the key to this store was lost long ago,’ he said.
Lord Dove took the seal from Theo and knelt down. ‘But rumour can be manipulated.’ Lord Dove twisted the head of the seal into a socket in the drain cover. With a delicate exhalation of air, the circular cover rose. Lord Dove glanced around nervously.
‘In! Quickly!’
Theo felt a moment of panic at following Lord Dove inside. Could he trust this man? But his anxiety for his friends overcame him.
They descended some thick stone steps. Of course, it wasn’t an ice house at all, but a small, circular chamber. Control panels gleamed in the half-light. The room was dominated by an upright, man-sized silver tube with a sliding door.
‘Over the years, the head of the Society of Good Works has had his own private means of entering the network,’ Lord Dove said. ‘This will take you straight down to the bottom.’
Lord Dove pressed a button and the door slid open.
‘You could be in the heart of the network in no time at all. Find out what you can, then come back. You might even get lucky and find . . . find someone.’ Lord Dove did not name his son again, but Theo could see the worry in the man’s eyes.
‘Would – would you be coming too?’ Theo eyed the machine doubtfully. It reminded him of the hated Mercy Tube.
‘The mechanism will only take one,’ Lord Dove said, scrutinising the capsule. ‘It is designed for secrecy and speed. You have the diabolical powers – I do not!’
‘Did Dr Saint build it?’ Theo asked.
‘No, a far more arrogant mind conceived it. A mind that could imagine needing no other help but his own – Erasmus Fontaine, the original Philanthropist. Now you are the head of the Society, his inventions are yours.’
Theo’s mind was racing. Was he doing the right thing?
‘Take a careful look at the diagram,’ Lord Dove said, pointing at a yellowing chart on the wall. It was covered with a spidery collection of ink lines. Theo was intrigued to discover another rendering of the mysterious realm beneath his feet.
‘Drawn by the Philanthropist himself. Now pay attention, this whole mission will fail miserably if you make a wrong step.’
Lord Dove said this as if making a wrong step would probably come naturally to Theo.
Theo scoured the map with eager eyes.
‘Don’t get out at Level One – it’s not deep enough. That’s where all the basic secret passages are. You probably know a few already.’
Theo nodded. He had used those several times – usually with Chloe as a guide.
‘Level Two is the next. Again: avoid. Smelly canals and blue mosquitoes. These tunnels are pretty wrecked now, cracked and flooded.’ Lord Dove gave Theo a cold look. All of that damage was a result of Theo fighting against the plans of the old leader, Dr Saint.
Now Lord Dove pointed at a large oval shape in the next section down.
‘Level Three. This is where you get out. The Well Chamber is here, the centre of all the alchemical technology. Communications are best here – there are decent tunnels, fungus globes. You’ll be close to where those survivors might be.’ His voice quavered for a moment.
Theo frowned, as the scribbled lines became more vague below Level Three.
‘What’s down here?’ asked Theo. ‘Level Four? It’s all pretty unclear on the map I’ve got.’
‘Ignore those levels. They’re an environmental hazard; ash pits, heaps of waste. I wouldn’t go there if I was paid. And Level Five is empty caverns as far as I know. Probably overrun with foul creatures. Avoid like the plague.’
Theo’s heart was pounding. He moved over to the shining silver tube that seemed to be beckoning him inside.
‘How does this work?’ he asked, stalling for time. He stepped gingerly on to the threshold of the machine.
‘It’s weight activated!’ cried Lord Dove. A transparent doorway shot across the opening, knocking Theo into the capsule. A light flashed. A thrumming noise started.
‘Stop it!’ cried Theo. ‘I – haven’t decided yet!’
‘I can’t stop it!’ Lord Dove shouted. ‘Go to Level Three!’
Theo grimaced. Three was his unlucky number. He pressed the button, but a light immediately flashed for Level Four.
‘It – it’s saying Level Four!’ Theo shouted. An unnerving clicking was going on above his head.
‘Not Four!’ shrieked Lord Dove. ‘Don’t go to Level Four – or Five!’
A red panel lit up. There was a sudden explosion and Theo was rocketed down in the capsule, far below the earth.
Chapter Twelve
Level Five
The capsule did not stop at Level Three. Theo studied the controls with growing alarm. The number four glowed obstinately instead. With an ear-splitting ratcheting sound, the capsule was redirected. It sped down a new tube, deeper into the heart of the network.
The Well Chamber must be more badly damaged than Lord Dove realised. The capsule can’t stop there. Some sort of emergency override system must have kicked in. So what happens now?
The capsule reached Level Four. And passed it.
Theo gulped. We’re heading straight down to Level Five.
He gave up being brave and closed his eyes. My powers, he told himself, my powers will look after me. Please.
Like a torpedo, the capsule shot downwards through the darkness. A sickening plunging sensation was followed by a loud klaxon blast and then a great whoosh of air. Buffeted by powerful turbulence outside, the silver tube slowed down, then stopped with a jolt. Theo’s stomach felt like it had turned right over.
Silence followed, except for the low clicking of the machinery, now at rest. Theo waited for something disastrous to happen. Nothing did. Instead, the door slid open, and cool air flowed in. A sense of relief flooded over him as he stepped out into a gleaming silver control roo
m, a carbon copy of the one in the ice house.
I’ve landed in one piece, Theo thought, trying to stay calm. I might be on the wrong level but at least I can start looking for my friends. He opened the door of the terminus and peered outside. A huge dark cavern stretched before him, lit here and there by patches of bioluminescent fungus.
Shadowy fears threatened to overwhelm Theo’s mind.
Don’t panic, he told himself. You are the Candle Man. The Candle Man will find a way in the darkness.
Theo sat down on some rocks and unfolded his precious network map. He studied it intently, but tiny lights were dancing before his eyes. Theo blinked and shook his head, but the lights did not go away.
He stood up and stared around him. A cold chill went down his spine. Slithering forms crept and bubbled all around him, barely-glimpsed bodies reflecting flashes of light from the glowing fungus.
Theo was surrounded by the creatures that had taken Chloe.
He peered at them with fascination. Any normal person might have been paralysed by terror. But Theo had not been brought up as a normal person. Surrounded by fairy stories and fanciful picture books all his life, Theo knew little of what passed for normality. Being surrounded by a horde of monsters in a subterranean chamber was scarcely more unusual to him than bumping into boys playing football in the park.
That was why he did something that had never occurred to any of these creatures’ victims; he spoke to them.
‘How do you do?’ said Theo awkwardly. ‘I, um . . . I need to talk to you. It’s very urgent. There’s been a terrible mistake.’
The creatures flexed and bubbled in the darkness. They looked rather like jellyfish, with an outer rim of extendable feelers. They were very flat, several feet across, and some of them had eyes that rose and blinked on stalks.
‘You – you took my friend. Or some creatures like you did. I think it must have been a mistake . . .’
Theo desperately hoped it was. There was a pause. Then one of the creatures lashed out with a feeler. It whipped painfully around Theo’s leg and tiny prickles bit into him.
