by Glenn Dakin
Behind them, Sam could hear other slaves being herded along.
Freddie looked terrified.
‘Locked up?’ he cried. ‘You – you haven’t thought it through! I mean, come on, old chum . . . who’s going to work the levers? Scrape out the ash and all that? I was getting pretty good at that. Better than Sam anyway! Evil machines don’t run themselves, you know.’
Hollister gave a cruel laugh. ‘Dincha hear the bell? That phase is over. The steam power was only needed to open up the vault and reveal them Wunnerful Machines. But the next stage ain’t about steam power. It’s “alchemistry”,’ he said, sounding out the word with relish.
‘Now you lot is expendable,’ he rumbled on. ‘And we don’t want you runnin’ free in case we has a rebellion on our hands. Plus, if them crelp ever comes back – well, they might be nice and hungry.’ He licked his lips in a horrible way.
‘Look,’ Sam said, turning to face Queasley. ‘If you have to lock me up, put me in a dungeon with Magnus – you know . . . the old man. He’s my grandad. I want to be able to look after him. You blokes are a gang, a – a sort of family. You must know how I feel . . . having my grandad down there on his own – in this awful place!’
Hollister approached Sam with what appeared to be a look of pity. Then he let out a raucous laugh and hurled Sam with a sickening thud against the back wall of the cell.
‘No chance, mate. The old ’un’s in solich’ry. He knows some big secret or something. No visitors allowed. Now shut up. Yer lucky we don’t put you down in the vault with the garghoul. He’s got a special cage too.’
‘But, listen,’ Freddie tried again as Queasley locked them both in the cell. ‘You chaps aren’t daft. Dr Pyre is going to do something awful, I know it. They say he wants to burn the city down. Why are you helping him? I mean, what’s in it for you?’
Hollister and Queasley exchanged a surly look.
‘Surfacers!’ growled Hollister. ‘They think the world was made for them.’
Queasley cleared his throat in a horrible way and spat at the foot of the cell. ‘We’re Sewer Rats, ain’t we? Orphans, misfits, nobodies – we ain’t wanted in that ’appy world up above. Well, when Dr Pyre’s had his fun, it’s not going to be so pretty up there. The Sewer Rats will know how to survive though. When he’s had his little bonfire we’ll be kings of the ashes.’
‘B-but –’ Freddie stammered.
‘Don’t leave us here!’ shouted Sam.
But the Sewer Rats were gone.
‘What, by all the moons, are you doing?’ Tristus snarled.
Dr Pyre stood before him, a golden cage separating him from the garghoul. They were far below the level of the dungeons, deep down among the silver wheels and spires of the Wonderful Machines. The garghoul was clutching at the bars angrily.
‘You will never escape from there, treacherous one!’ Dr Pyre gloated. ‘Those bars are made from oronium, the alchemist’s own metal. A stone prison could not hold you, I know that well – garghouls can speak to stone – but oronium will hold you forever.’
Tristus still tested the bars.
‘I know you, Dr Pyre,’ he said grimly. ‘I know your secret.’
Dr Pyre turned away from his prisoner. ‘The secrets are all gone now,’ he said. ‘They have no power. Only actions have power – and that is what I am taking.’
‘What are you planning?’
‘Destruction,’ Dr Pyre said. ‘The biggest catastrophe this underworld has ever seen.’
Tristus looked dismayed. ‘I used to think your madness was just an act. Now I believe you are truly insane.’
Dr Pyre faced the garghoul, his hands flickering with fire as his rage grew.
‘You dare to talk about sanity to me – do you deny my accusation . . . traitor?’
‘I do deny it,’ Tristus replied. He smashed against the bars with a futile fist. ‘If you would but listen! I could tell you many things –’
Dr Pyre allowed himself a cold laugh. ‘I’ve listened to too many lies in my life,’ he said. ‘Now, nothing will distract me from my purpose.’
‘They are not lies –’
‘All of the world above us is nothing more,’ Dr Pyre interrupted. ‘Only fire can save us now. I see you are not for me, so I consider you against me!’
‘I am against the madness,’ Tristus cried out as Dr Pyre strode towards the doorway. ‘Not against you!’
Dr Pyre halted for a moment at the door and looked back with his shadowed, glinting eyes.
‘The madness is all that is left of me,’ he said.
Chapter Twenty-six
Friends in Need
They’ve killed everyone.
Colonel Fairchild’s words echoed in Theo’s ears among the screams and cries in the tunnel.
Everyone?
He raised a glowing hand to fend off a tentacle. Everywhere, Orpheus officers were being suffocated under the slimy bodies of the crelp that had attacked from above.
Had Chloe, too, died this way?
Thwoom! Theo reached out and exploded the creature that was trying to engulf him.
‘Please to putting away horrible glow – glowing – hands please,’ another crelp hissed in a polite tone as its tendrils snaked round his legs.
Theo grimaced and plunged his fingers deep into the crelp’s slimy body.
Whoom!
Steaming slime streaked Theo’s face as the creature perished. Theo noticed blood streaming from a gash in his arm, where a spiny tentacle had ripped into his skin. Yet he was too numb with horror to register the pain.
‘Fall back to the lift shaft,’ Colonel Fairchild screeched out. Theo could see the wounded man, his uniform in shreds, turn and stagger away into the darkness. A couple of other officers followed.
They’ll never make it, Theo thought. Not without my help.
‘Stand still to dying – to die,’ requested one of the crelp. ‘Don’t you really wanting to die?’
‘No!’ screamed Theo, oblivious to the pain of his scratched limbs as he dived to touch the nearest crelp. It went up in a howling hiss of smoke.
He blocked the middle of the corridor, making it hard for the crelp to get round him.
Whoom! Shroom!
The crelp vanished, squealing at his touch, as he held their forces back, buying time for the fleeing Orpheus men. Gradually, Theo backed away, hoping to join the retreat to the lift shaft.
But suddenly he stopped. He could feel tendrils in his hair. He span around and saw a horrible sight. Once more, the crelp had been using the cracks in the roof and were getting behind him in great, seething numbers.
He watched in horror as their soft, prickly bodies flopped down from the ceiling, filling the tunnel behind him. Now he was surrounded, and there were far too many to fight. He couldn’t press onwards to the Well Chamber, but neither could he make it to the lift.
He gritted his teeth. There was one other way. A narrow passage to his right led away from the main tunnels, into the unknown. Only a few crelp blocked that exit. Theo held both illuminated hands before him and, ignoring the hideous wails, he raced through a rain of burning slime.
Theo collapsed against a tunnel wall, gasping for breath. He had run until his legs would work no more. Slowly, he became convinced he had left the crelp far behind.
If only I had a light, he thought. Then an idea struck him. He wasn’t in any peril, or attempting any self-defence – but surely a Candle Man could produce a little light to see by? He concentrated on his hands and willed them to release a tiny gleam of their power.
Suddenly there it was, wavering around his fingers – a soft green glow. Using his own hand as a torch, he began to inspect his surroundings.
The network is mine, Theo told himself. I will not fear it. I am the Candle Man. I drive back the darkness, he told himself. He sank down on to a rock with a sigh.
Scary. I’m really starting to think like a Candle Man now.
He was at a junction of three tunnels. One appeared blo
cked by debris – more damage from the great explosion after his battle with Dr Saint. Another led down, he didn’t know where. He took a couple of steps and saw that it was full of water.
Anything could be lurking in there, Theo thought. He sat back down and looked at his cut arm. Remembering Chloe’s attempts at first aid, he pulled a strip off his already torn shirt and bound up his gashed arm.
As he sat adjusting the bandage, he heard a sound. It was coming from the half-collapsed passage to his left. Something – or someone – was coming down it. Theo extinguished the light of his hand and waited. The slightest sound was amplified by the tunnels. There was none of that eerie hissing that often accompanied the crelp. So who – or what was it?
It could be Chloe, Theo hoped wildly. She was clever, she was sure to have escaped the crelp somehow.
Theo heard a pained gasp, and a pathetic sob. No – that was not Chloe. His heart sank. But it didn’t sound like a dangerous presence either. The small, feeble movements were more like the exertions of a child. Whoever it was, was hurt.
In a moment of decision, Theo rekindled his hand and turned the corner.
‘No!’
A startled black imp staggered away from the light and fell against the wall. Theo stopped in surprise. Both figures gazed at each other, wide-eyed.
It was Skun.
‘Go on – get it over with!’ Skun cried, covering his eyes with a spindly hand.
‘Get what over with?’
‘You might as well kill me now! It’s all over. My tribe is slaughtered. Only I escaped. And now you have hunted me down, I suppose! What a waste – of the glorious Skun,’ he sobbed.
Theo forgot his own woes for a moment and felt a pang of pity for the wretched smoglodyte creature.
‘I’m not hunting you, Skun,’ he said. ‘In fact, I’ve been hunted by the crelp. Look.’ He showed Skun his wounded arm.
‘The crelp?’ Skun echoed, fear in his little voice. ‘How – how did you escape?’
Theo felt unexpectedly affronted at this remark. He scowled.
‘Well, I am the Candle Man,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ hissed the smoglodyte, ‘but they are so many now – and learning new tricks all the time. They can come from anywhere – and vanish to anywhere. Not even brave smogs stand a chance!’
‘They can be destroyed,’ said Theo.
Skun crept closer to Theo and looked up at him with his small inquisitive eyes.
‘You survived – for now – like me,’ Skun said. ‘But soon we will be dead. The crelp are everywhere. They have begun their outvasion.’
Theo frowned. ‘Out-vasion?’
‘They have emerged from the dark places beneath the earth – now they want to come out – out into the big world on the surface. I spied on them before I – before we, the Ilk tribe, were discovered.’
Theo sat down on a fallen beam. In the middle of all this peril he and Skun had found a moment of calm. They were both lone survivors, lost underground – both hunted by the same foe.
‘What did you learn?’
‘That you are a bad man!’ Skun cried. ‘A bad, selfish, crazy man! I told you we must unite against the crelp – told you before! But you didn’t want to.’
Theo felt uncomfortable. That was true.
‘But you were my enemy before, Skun. I didn’t have any reason to help you.’
‘Well, you do now,’ Skun snapped. ‘But of course it’s too late! I heard the crelp speak to some humans they had captured. They are sucking in human brains and learning all about you. The more they learn, the more they want your precious world up there.’
A whisper of movement, amplified by the tunnels around them, made them both start.
‘Unbogoglia,’ Skun whispered. ‘They are coming!’
Theo stood up, dimming his hands to the faintest of glows. ‘Let’s go,’ he said.
‘Me?’ Skun gasped. ‘You’re asking me?’
‘Yes! We could work together. Smogs know things.’
‘Work together? Me with the great Theo – the dreaded Candle Hand?’ Skun almost bounced with excitement.
‘If you wish,’ Theo replied. ‘And if you’ll try and be quiet!’ He was worried that the crelp would hear their every word in the strange acoustics of the tunnels.
‘But,’ Skun said, ‘there is nowhere to go! The crelp are everywhere. There is no way up and no way down!’
Theo waved his hand to left and right, studying the three-way junction again.
‘There might be a way,’ Theo replied. His eyes burnt as ideas raced through his head. He had finally worked out exactly which part of the network he was in. He had travelled this way with Chloe, once before – fleeing from a very formidable character. With his singular memory for detail, Theo could retrace the route they had taken then. It was the only solution.
‘This way,’ Theo said, striding off down the third tunnel. ‘There’s another way to the surface, away from this section of the network.’
Skun followed warily. ‘Is it safe?’
‘Not very.’ Theo took a deep breath. ‘We will pay a visit to the Dodo.’
Chapter Twenty-seven
Lairs
‘Your Lordship?’
Colonel Fairchild stepped into the gloomy office of Lord Gold. A fresh uniform concealed the colonel’s scarred and bandaged body, but a single slash was clearly visible across the bridge of his nose, and a shadow of fear touched his once-arrogant eyes. He found his leader studying the great network map by a single desk lamp.
‘Yes?’
‘You have studied my report, sir? They made me go to the medical centre before I could see you in person.’
‘I’ve read the report,’ Lord Gold replied. He seemed strangely distracted, as if lost in thoughts too deep to share.
‘I lost all contact with Detective Sergeant Cripps. Only one man made it back with me. We had no choice but to leave young Wickland behind.’
His own words made him shudder. It was a confession of utter failure. There was a silence.
Lord Gold nodded. ‘The Candle Man is not afraid of the dark, Fairchild. Left down there, or otherwise, he fights for me – for us. Have no doubt about that.’
Fairchild’s face was white.
‘They took us by surprise, sir. Smothered us. We couldn’t use the eradicators for fear of blasting one another.’
Lord Gold turned from his map to face the colonel. ‘Is the second wave ready?’ he asked without emotion.
‘Ready to go, sir,’ Fairchild replied. ‘Are you sending them – I mean, us – straight back down there?’ His voice quivered with the faintest trace of emotion.
Lord Gold ran his eye over the report on his desk.
‘I’m sending no one,’ he said. ‘You are free to do as you please.’
‘Sir?’
‘Proceed, colonel, as you think best. You are my second-in-command and have my complete confidence. You are free to do precisely what I want you to do.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Fairchild replied, a little puzzled.
Lord Gold rose and walked with Colonel Fairchild to the door.
‘Ask yourself this,’ he said. ‘What would Lord Gold do?’
Fairchild nodded, a little blood returning to his baby-like face. ‘Yes, sir. You would want me to lead the reinforcements, now that the enemy have shown their strength and revealed their tactics.’
‘Excellent,’ Lord Gold smiled. ‘Then all is going according to plan. I don’t know why you felt compelled to interrupt my meditations.’ He gave a patient smile. ‘They are most important, you know.’
Colonel Fairchild saluted and made to leave, but Lord Gold held him with a steady gaze.
‘Do not fear, colonel. Victory will be ours,’ he said. ‘I am certain of it.’
Fairchild looked troubled for a moment. ‘Should I send a squad to search for young Wickland?’
Lord Gold eyed the colonel with amusement. ‘You think he must be dead, don’t you?’ he asked. ‘But I believe other
wise. I’ve studied the old Scotland Yard files. Young Theo is a Candle Man,’ Lord Gold said with an almost poetical air. ‘Not the original Victorian hero, but of true Wickland descent. He is the Keeper of the Flame; the bearer of an ancient power that cannot, that will not be killed, no matter what.’
‘Very good, sir.’
‘Very good indeed.’ Lord Gold smiled. ‘Wickland will be all right,’ he said slowly. ‘He will do precisely what I want him to do. As will you.’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Colonel Fairchild.
‘Launch the second wave,’ Lord Gold said, returning to the shadows of his room.
‘You are mad, bad and crazy,’ grumbled Skun, peering down the low, flooded tunnel. ‘Taking me to dangerous places.’ There was a loud plop in the water ahead and the smoglodyte sprang up on to the wall.
‘Dangerous for others,’ Theo said, ‘but not for us.’
I hope, he added to himself. He didn’t really have much choice, he reflected. The crelp armies were all around. In order to get to safety and find a way to get help for Chloe – and for Sam and Magnus – he had to take the only other available route out of the network.
The water was getting deeper and it stank. Theo waded through it grimly. Skun crawled along the ceiling above him.
‘This way!’ Theo said. The route he and Chloe had used to escape the Dodo, after their first encounter the previous November, was coming back to him. Back then, he had seen so little of the outside world that every new tunnel, every dripping passage had been a source of wonder to him. The many stages, junctions, bridges and stairways of that journey were deeply impressed upon his memory.
Turning a narrow bend, both Theo and Skun jumped as a bat took flight from the roof above them and vanished, squealing, in the dark. Theo could see Skun’s little heart palpitating in his transparent smoglodyte chest.
‘Candle Hand!’ whispered Skun, scowling. ‘Truly you are the terror of legend to drag a poor smoglodyte this way!’
The smog sprang on to an iron pipe and scuttled along it as nimbly as a squirrel. ‘Stirring up trouble,’ the creature added darkly.
