by Lexi Rees
With a small pearl-handled pen-knife, she saws at the tape binding Aria’s hands until they ping free.
‘Yeuch,’ Aria says, rubbing her wrists. ‘That’s sticky.’
‘Why are you helping us?’ I ask.
‘Been doing a bit of research,’ the girl says. ‘Don’t think it’s right to go messing about with people in the name of science.’
‘What do you mean?’ I ask, surprised.
‘Sir Waldred forces my dad to do experiments on people, to make them more “normal”. Dad says it’s cruel. How does Sir Waldred know what “normal” is? Why does he even get to decide? It’s not right.’
I gasp, thinking of the blood-magic. “Normal” doesn’t come close to describing that. Is that what he’s trying to do? Take away the blood-magic?
The girl chatters away, ‘But Sir Waldred won’t listen. He just keeps on experimenting. Are you special? Guess he was going to experiment on you. Well, that’s what happens to most people who get brought in here anyway. So here I am, rescuing you. You won’t regret being on my team …’
‘Your team?’ I say, raising my eyebrows.
‘Well, you aren’t fully rescued yet but, once you are, you can be on my team,’ she says. ‘Come on. I’ll show you the way out. They’ll be back soon and then we’ll all be in big trouble.’
‘We can’t leave yet,’ I say, leaping up and dragging Aria behind me. ‘We need to find Dad. We know they’ve got him here somewhere. And we think he has Mum prisoner too.’ And I need to ask Sir Waldred what he knows about Morgan.
Bouncing up and down like an excited puppy, Pippin says, ‘A mass rescue. What a great day for my campaign. I know where the prisoners are kept, follow me.’
We head off down the corridor, our soft shoes making no noise on the floor. This time we watch out for the cameras, ducking out of sight as they pan around in front of us.
I see the guards ahead, puffing and panting. We slow our pace to match. They stop in front of an opaque glass door and scan a security pass. It slides smoothly open and they step through. It closes behind them.
‘We lost them. What do we do now?’ I ask.
Pippin rummages in the pockets of her lab coat and pulls out a bundle of cards.
‘What are those?’ Aria asks.
‘Security passes. People keeps losing ’em. Can’t believe how careless they are,’ Pippin says.
‘So how come you have them if they’re lost?’ Aria asks.
‘Depends on what you mean by lost,’ Pippin says, a wicked grin spreading over her face. ‘Did they lose ’em, then I found ’em? Or did I find ’em, then they lost ’em?’
‘You mean you stole them,’ Aria says, her eyes wide.
‘Just borrowed. I’ll give them back one day … Here we go.’ Pippin says, waving one of the cards in front of my nose. It has a picture, the name “Professor Waserchen”, and a barcode on it. ‘Told you I ’ad a plan. This one will work.’
She holds the card up to the security pad and the flashing red light goes green instantly. ‘Security really should learn how to cancel these cards permanently,’ she says, grinning.
‘Permanently?’ Aria asks. ‘Tell me you didn’t hack the computer system to reactivate them?’
‘Course I did! Be a waste of a perfectly good security card otherwise,’ Pippin beams.
The door slides silently open into a laboratory. Rows of shelves are filled with glass bottles, all neatly labelled. The smell of chemicals wafts through the air. Equipment hums and buzzes, the noise covering us as we slip in unnoticed. Pippin pulls us sharply to the left and we crawl behind a desk.
Two scientists sit on high stools at a lab bench; one is thin with a deep scar running across his face and steel grey hair, the other is stouter, with a slick of dark greasy hair and an anxious look on his face. They’re wearing lab coats like Pippin’s, but of course theirs don’t trail on the ground.
The guards are standing beside the bench, shuffling from foot to foot.
‘Get me the notebook,’ the thin scientist barks.
The other scientist leaps to his feet as if he’s just had an electric shock. He scurries across the room and starts flicking through piles of paperwork.
‘That’s my dad,’ Pippin says, pointing at the harassed looking scientist. ‘Sir Waldred is always being mean to him. He’s a bully.’ She pulls a face and spits on the ground in a very unladylike way.
‘Is that Sir Waldred?’ I whisper to Pippin, pointing at the thin scientist.
She nods.
Sir Waldred sits upright, pushes the microscope away, cracks his knuckles, and glares at the guards. ‘What was so important that you felt it necessary to interrupt my work?’ he asks the guards with a sneer.
‘Kids. We found two kids,’ stammers the first guard.
‘Who?’
‘Dunno. Didn’t ask their names.’
‘Idiots. What did they look like then?’
‘Uh, there was a girl with long straight white hair and a boy with messy brown curls.’
‘It’s them,’ Sir Waldred says, thumping the desk. ‘Finally. So where are they then?’
‘We tied them up and left them in the other lab. We thought …’
‘Don’t think. I don’t pay you to think. Bring them to me, now.’
Sir Waldred leans over the microscope again, scowling, and the two guards jog away, bickering.
‘It’s your fault the boss isn’t happy with us.’
‘No, it’s not. You were the one who said to tie ‘em up.’
‘But you said he had the package and that was more important.’
Their voices fade into the distance.
‘What do we do now?’ Aria whispers.
‘Shhh,’ I hiss. ‘We need to wait and see what he does. Then we’ll make a plan.’
The guards come back, red faced, empty handed, and still bickering.
‘You tell him.’
‘No, it’s your fault.’
‘Tell me what?’ Sir Waldred snaps.
‘The kids, they’ve gone,’ says the first guard. ‘Escaped … but I swear we tied ‘em up proper.’
‘Looks like they ‘ad an accomplice,’ says the second guard. ‘The tape what we used to tie ‘em up with was cut. They couldn’t ‘ave done it themselves.’
Pippin giggles from behind the bench, ‘That’s me. I’m an accomplice.’ Aria clamps her hand over Pippin’s mouth, smothering a snort of laughter.
‘An accomplice? You mean there are even more intruders? Do I need to find a new Head of Security?’ He glares at the first guard.
He turns back to Pippin’s dad. ‘Where is that notebook I asked for? Could you move slightly faster than a sloth?’
Pippin’s dad extracts a notebook from the pile, pushing the rest of the papers aside.
‘Look,’ Aria whispers, pointing at the microscope which is now visible past the stack of papers. ‘It’s the pearl. He’s studying the pearl.’
‘That means Dad has been here,’ I say.
‘Yes, but where is he now?’
Suddenly Sir Waldred leaps up, knocking his stool over. He kicks out at it, cursing. He grabs the fake pearl and flings it across the room. It shatters into pieces.
‘I guess that means he knows it’s a fake,’ I say.
‘Bring the woman here this instant,’ Sir Waldred spits at the scientist. Take that useless pair of guards with you.’
‘Right away, Sir Waldred,’ he says. Pippin’s dad dashes away, the guards trot obediently after him.
Pippin springs to her feet. I try to grab her but it’s too late.
‘Leave the woman alone,’ Pippin shouts, her hands on her hips. ‘She’s been kind to me.’
‘Pippin, what are you doing here?’ Sir Waldred snarls.
Aria shrinks further under the desk, bumping the table
leg which makes a loud scraping sound.
Sir Waldred spins round. He heard it. He leans over the desk. Aria and I shuffle as far away as we can, but he drags Aria out by the ear.
‘I see you brought your friends,’ he hisses at Pippin.
I scramble to my feet.
Sir Waldred looks at us and bursts into laughter, clutching his belly. ‘Well that’s a surprise,’ he says. ‘All this time trying to catch you, and here you walk freely into my lair. Since you’re here, you might as well just give me the real relic. It will be a lot less painful for you, and your family, in the long run.’
‘Never,’ I cry. ‘Why should I? It’s not yours.’
‘It will be soon. Your parents will give it to me.’
‘Ragnar and Isolda would never do that.’
‘When they discover I have taken both of you prisoner, they will. And Morgan would without hesitating,’ he taunts.
Anger rises in me and I clench my fists. ‘Leave my family alone. And that includes Morgan,’ I shout.
Sir Waldred’s lips curl into a crooked smile. ‘Haha. Morgan has already betrayed you. How does that feel?’
‘She didn’t mean to. You forced her.’
‘Did I? Are you sure about that? Maybe she wanted to help me? Maybe she wanted revenge on the elders. Maybe I used that desire for my own purposes. Maybe she was a fool.’ His face contorts with rage. ‘Anyway, she’s not here. She’s gone on a new quest. To find the next relic. For me.’ He throws his head back and roars with laughter.
Pippin’s dad slinks back into the room, followed by the two guards, dragging something behind them … a woman with long straight white hair …
‘It’s Mum,’ Aria whispers, her eyes wide. She runs and flings her arms round her.
‘Make her stand up,’ Sir Waldred barks. ‘And get that kid away from her.’
The guards pull Aria off and yank Mum to her feet. Her eyes are bleary and heavily hooded. She looks in our direction, blinking hard as she struggles to focus. A flicker of recognition passes Mum’s eyes. She starts to struggle.
‘Now!’ Aria says, sticking her leg out and tripping one of the guards. He lands heavily and screams in pain.
Pippin leaps onto the back of the other one. He tries to peel the little girl from his back but she clings on like a limpet. She covers his eyes with her hands and bites his shoulder.
‘Ouch’ he cries, stumbling blindly around the room, flailing his arms at the irritant attached to his back. He trips over the stool that Sir Waldred knocked over earlier, and lands with a crash. ‘Pippin, you little rat,’ he shouts, wiping away few drops of blood from the teeth shaped punctures on his shoulder as he lumbers to his feet. ‘I’ll get you for that.’
‘You can’t catch me,’ Pippin chants, dancing away down the corridor.
In the chaos, Mum breaks free and runs to us. She draws us towards her and hugs us both tightly.
‘Hello Pippin,’ she calls. ‘I see you already met my kids.’
‘I rescued them,’ Pippin says proudly.
‘Well done, Pippin,’ Mum says. Then, seeing the guard lumbering to his feet, she pushes us forward. ‘Quick, follow Pippin. That way.’
I glance over my shoulder and shout, ‘Faster! They’re getting closer.’
‘Mum, where have you been all these years? How did you end up here?’ Aria pants.
‘Questing. It was Morgan … I was following her. I had to stop her from destroying the world. But it was a trap, she wasn’t here. I have … to warn … Ragnar.’ Mum struggles to catch her breath as she runs.
‘Warn him of what?’
‘Morgan …’ But she looks at me and doesn’t finish the sentence.
What was she going to say about Morgan?
Aria tugs at Mum’s hand. ‘He’s here. Mum. Dad’s here. We need to get him. I think he’s been taken prisoner. We have to go back.’
‘I know. I saw him. They were holding him in a cell just along from me. I can rescue him,’ Isolda pants.
‘I’m coming with you,’ Aria says.
Ahead of us, a second corridor runs off to the right, sloping downwards.
Mum points to it. ‘Finn, you and Pippin go that way. It’ll take you to the river. Aria and I will get Dad. We’ll catch up with you back at the boat. I promise.’
‘We should stick together,’ I protest. ‘Dad always says we should stick together.’
‘You must deliver the relic to the elders. Promise me you’ll do that?’ Aria begs.
‘Relic?’ Mum asks, raising her eyebrow. ‘How do you know about the relics?’
‘Later. It’s a long story,’ Aria says.
‘How will you rescue Dad?’ I ask.
‘I know where they’ve taken him,’ Mum says. ‘And I know how to get out of here. I’ve been studying the layout every time they moved me, and Pippin has given me some great tips for escaping too. You go with Pippin.’
Hand in hand, Aria and Mum sprint away.
Mum turns her head back towards me. ‘Finn, if we’re not back at the boat by daybreak, you need to leave us. You have to take the relic to the elders.’
‘But what about you?’
‘Don’t worry. I know lots of people in New London. We’ll be fine. We’ll catch up with you, I promise.’
As she disappears around a corner, I hear her call once more, ‘Please, Finn. You must deliver it safely, or it’s all been for nothing.’
My heart thumps. ‘I don’t know if I can do it on my own,’ I whisper to the empty corridor.
FIFTEEN
Tunnels
‘They’re splitting up,’ Sir Waldred screams. ‘Guards, catch those two. I’ll get the boy myself.’
Heavy footsteps pound on the stone floor, getting louder, closer and closer behind us. Corridors snake off to the left and right.
I sprint after Pippin, blindly trusting her to know the way out of this maze.
Boom. An explosion shakes the building. The tunnel ahead of us collapses in a pile of rubble. Pippin and I spin round and dart down another corridor.
Sir Waldred is right behind us, flinging blast after blast of energy at the walls.
Another huge blast and the corridor collapses. A dead end.
‘We’re trapped,’ Pippin cries.
‘Now I’ve got you,’ Sir Waldred says, gloating. He takes a step forward.
‘I’ll never give the relic to you,’ I shout.
‘You’ll have no choice,’ he sneers.
I look left and right, searching for a way out. Half way between us, one of the explosions has left a crater in the ground. I glance down into the dark, jagged hole. Water bubbles inside it.
‘What are you looking at?’ Pippin cries. ‘We can’t get out that way.’
‘We can,’ I hiss under my breath. ‘Jump in.’
‘No way.’
‘We need to get into the water,’ I whisper as Sir Waldred takes another step closer to us. ‘It’s a river. It’s our only chance of escape. He won’t dare follow us. The Earth-Wanderers hate water. Plus, I have a walrus cloak. It’s supposed to help underwater. Oh … can you swim?’
‘Don’t worry about me,’ Pippin chirps, shrugging off the huge lab coat to reveal a threadbare grey dress and stick-thin legs. ‘I’ll be fine. Somehow I’m always fine.’
‘The cloak will protect you.’ I cross my fingers as I pull the cloak out of my backpack, hoping that’s true.
I wrap the cloak tightly around us both. Clutching my pirrfu charm for luck, we count to three, run towards the hole and leap.
‘Nooooo,’ Waldred screams, realising just a moment too late that we aren’t trying to get past him, that we’re going to jump. He grabs at us as we plunge into the pool but his fingers clasp at the air.
It’s deeper than I thought, and even colder. I wondered if the c
loak would make us sink, but it feels weightless in the water. Underneath the cloak, Pippin is cocooned in a big air bubble.
I point to a black eel. That’s a surprise. I expected rats in these tunnels, not fish. Flipping its snake-like body around, it calls to me, ‘Follow, follow.’ And darts off down the tunnel. I gesture at Pippin that we’re moving. She nods her head. I give her the diving signal for ‘OK’ and kick off after the fish. Is Pippin humming?
After several minutes, I start to worry this was a mistake. The air bubble is rapidly shrinking. The eel urges me on, oblivious to the basic human need to breathe. Even Pippin has stopped humming.
A few more seconds and the air bubble will be gone. It’s not enough. There’s no obvious end to the tunnel. We’re trapped. I start to panic, it’s too late to turn back now. We’re not going to make it. Even with my powers and the cloak, we will both run out of air in the next few minutes.
I kick harder. I won’t let us die. Kick. I won’t let Sir Waldred win. Kick. I will deliver the real pearl. Kick. I will find Morgan. Kick.
The tunnel turns upwards. At last, there’s air above us. Pippin claws her way to the surface, coughs up some water and gulps down the fresh air.
‘It stinks in here,’ she says, pinching her nose closed.
We’re no longer in the shiny white laboratory tunnels. This tunnel is dark and dank with a curved brick roof. I guess it was probably part of the old Victorian sewage system.
We continue swimming until the water is shallow enough to stand up in. I pull off the cloak. Underneath it, I’m surprised to find we’re completely dry. I shake it out, watching the water droplets slide straight off the glossy walrus skin, and shove it in my backpack.
Knee-deep in water, my feet are sucked into the sludgy ground. I try not to think about it as I squelch through the rat-infested swamp.
‘Do you have any idea where we are?’ I ask Pippin, hoping that her local knowledge covers this area.
‘Don’t you know nothin’? It’s the River Fleet. It runs underneath London all the way from Hampstead Heath and spits out into the Thames near Blackfriars Bridge. It used to be above the ground, obviously, but it got built over in about 1800. It’s more of a ditch than a river.’ She tugs at her leg in an attempt to free it from a particularly sticky patch.
