“So,” she said, “I shall remain prisoner here.”
Blackall watched her face. His own betrayed no emotion.
“You shall be treated well.”
Well, at least that was something to be grateful for. But she hated the idea of being trapped here in this dark hole.
“For how long?” she asked.
Something flashed in Blackall’s eyes, but it was gone before she could study it.
“As long as necessary.”
She sat in bitter silence, not looking at him, though he watched her closely. After several moments, he stood up. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead walked away without a word. The door flapped on it’s hinges after he left, and she listened as his heavy steps pounded down the hallway. She kicked the table leg, angry that she’d been left here again without satisfaction. Why did he have to get her hopes up? What was the purpose of his visits if nothing had changed?
While she resented her imprisonment, she knew why he couldn’t release her. It was an intelligent choice really, though it came at her expense. Any man with the slightest sense of self-preservation would make the same. The risk to him and his men was simply too great. She swallowed hard and kicked the ground. The thought of staying here, locked up underground, was overwhelming. She couldn’t bear life as a prisoner, a life with no sun and nothing to occupy her time. No one to speak to. No choices. No freedom. But then she remembered the fireplace door, and a flicker of hope returned.
She tuned her ears to listen for approaching visitors before returning to the hearth, tip-toeing to the room’s door to check the lock. Sadly, Blackall had left it unlocked. She cracked it open and peered out. At the end of the hallway were other doors like this one. Their thresholds were large and dark in the green light. Turning her head, she saw the green-tinted lamp that provided the hallway’s dim glow, with a small flame flickering behind the foggy green glass. Just out of its glow, a man stood watch. He turned and slowly faced her, his look bored, but dark and pointed. It seemed to say I’ve known you were there all along, don’t try anything with me, or you’ll certainly regret it.
They were profoundly alone down here after all. Isolated from light, sound and life of any kind. Likely, any of these men could do as they wished with her, even against Blackall’s wishes. Who would arrive in time to stop them? And what would such a man have to do other than manufacture a lie to cover his crime? She shriveled back into the room and closed the door with a sheepish thump.
There was no way to lock the door from the inside. She would just have to be stealthy and hope no one interrupted her. If discovered, she could always claim she was stoking the fire or seeking warmth. She approached the secret door and touched it’s surface. It was caked with thick layers of ash that blanketed her fingertips. It was also heavy and scraped loudly as she pushed it open. She felt cool air from beyond wash over her arms and face. Though she was frightened, she knew she had to try. For despite what Blackall claimed, he may have other things in store for her. It seemed almost too good to be true that she would be kept here without cost or sacrifice. Surely, Blackall wanted something. She just didn’t know what.
She only hoped she wouldn’t run into one of the men who lived down here alone. Without Blackall’s protection, who knew what might happen? And hopefully she wouldn’t get lost in this thick labyrinth of twists, turns and dark holes.
Summoning courage, she pushed the door open, hoping the squeaking noise wouldn’t alert the guard outside. Between the hearth and door, cobwebs draped and cold air poured in. Beyond the threshold lay absolute blackness and a silence so thick it felt like a cloud. She was afraid to even look through it, or leave the space open. But she knew she must go through. Her other choice was imprisonment and an uncertain fate decided upon by violent men. She’d started this herself when she made the decision to strike out on her own. Courage was the choice she must make now, and many more times to come.
She roused herself with a deep breath, fighting off the paralyzing fear that would take her body and mind. The boy had led her to this door. Perhaps he was her friend after all. There had to be a reason. Surely, it must be that he meant to help her. This could be a way out. She wanted to take the lamp with her, but then thought better of it. If she was to escape, she must take refuge in the shadows. Light, in a dark city like this, was the biggest sign one could carry, announcing one’s position to all. But she knew she must have something. So, she ran back to the vanity and rummaged through it’s drawers. Inside she found a dusty, half-burned candle. Surely, such a small, pathetic light wouldn’t give her away. She wiped it off with her fingers and held it to the fire, lighting it’s tiny, waxy wick. Then, she returned to the edge of the darkness and peered into the emptiness beyond, holding her small light out like a talisman.
She wanted to go through, but felt like she was frozen stiff on the edge of a great precipice. But, there was nothing for it, she must be brave. She took a deep breath and held it in. She decided to do it. It was decided. Yes, she would go through, and bravely. She would step over the threshold in a very brave manner. Any moment it would happen. And then it would be done.
Lifting her booted foot, she took her first step. Her heel hit hard stone with a clack. Taking another step, and then another, she soon found herself in a narrow stone tunnel with a rounded ceiling. The walls were rough, their edges jagged under her fingers as she touched them lightly to guide herself down the passage, careful not to scrape her skin. The tunnel went on longer than she expected. But when she reached the end, the walls disappeared and faded into black; and all around her was a dark void.
She touched the ground in front of her with a toe. It felt solid. She wasn’t moving towards a real precipice, at least. After a few deep breaths to gain the courage, she stepped into the open space. Her footfalls cracked against the floor loudly, sounding out into the dark, empty nothingness. It seemed to echo off for miles. The smell down here was strange - stale but earthy. The air was damp and cold. But most unnerving was the silence, one so thick and complete it seemed to ring in her ears, making her feel deaf. She felt especially uneasy about disturbing it.
As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could see dim impressions of her surroundings. She seemed to be in a large, stone room with giant stone columns scattered around that reached up to the ceiling. And before her - she shuddered to notice - was what looked like a stone altar. It was surrounded by strange stone objects that she couldn’t identify. They looked like sculptures, but without more light to study them, she couldn’t be sure. Every surface was blanketed with cobwebs and other signs of decay. She realized with cold dread that the room appeared to be an old temple, long unused.
Looming over it all, against the farthest wall and directly behind the altar, was an ornate threshold made of large stone columns and a thick lintel; all covered in carvings. She walked towards it, feeling chilled as she strained through the dark to make out the engravings. She wasn’t quite prepared for what she saw when she got there. At it’s dark center, stone steps led down, down, down into the hollow gloom. She held out the candle as far as she dared. The crooked steps crawled down until darkness engulfed them. The air that rose up off of them was cold. She shivered at the sight. She didn’t wish to contemplate where they led or what may live there. She pulled her hand back sharply, fearful that the dark might take it as an offering, and backed away. Up close, she could see that across the lintel, large letters were carved into the massive stone.
LACUM
Downward didn’t seem like a way to escape from an underground city. Besides, the Archangel Gabriel himself couldn’t get her down there if he threw her. So she backed away slowly, praying she hadn’t disturbed anything from within it’s depths. She turned around, determined to search for another option - any other option. On the left and right sides of the room were dark openings, large holes that seemed to open into nothing. Likely they were hallways extending from each side of the room. But should she go left or right? Both options seemed equally
terrifying after what she’d just seen. And she knew nothing of this place, so had nothing to base a decision on. It was heads or tails.
She took a deep breath and tried to be brave. It felt as if something was watching her in the dark. But she endeavored to ignore the sensation. If she stood still too long she might lose her nerve, so she decided on a whim to move to the right. Making her way towards the gaping hole, she kept mindful to check for floor beneath her. The hole proved to be a passageway, as she’d predicted, so she moved timidly forward, ever watchful for threats or sudden changes in her environment.
She inched further and further down the passage, holding the candle out in front to guide her. She watched hungrily for a ladder or stairwell that would lead upwards. But the tunnel dragged on, cold stone flat wall stretching on forever. There were no escape routes, no ladders or doorways, and no break in the darkness. Just solid stone wall that went on and on. There was only darkness and her pale hand reaching into it. But she shuffled continually on into the black, trying to keep heart. She muffled her steps as best she could, fearful of disturbing the silence and whatever lurked in it. But surely, anything accustomed to such silence would hear a pin drop. Her own steps would likely sound like earthquakes to a strange, sleepy dweller of this fetid place.
Finally, her eyes adjusted to the darkness. The stone walls were easier to discern. She squinted to test her newfound advantage. But there remained nothing to see, only flat walls and darkness stretching on forever. Her journey continued on for so long she began to feel dazed. It’d been an age since she’d seen anything but blackness and damp stone wall. So when she finally noticed something, she wondered if she’d imagined it. Through the hazy stillness, she heard a shuffle. She froze and listened, straining to hear the slightest creak.
Yes - there it was again. A shuffling sound echoed from further down the passage. Her heartbeat pumped madly and her eyes bulged in the dark. What could it be? An animal? A man? Or perhaps something else? Possibilities flooded her mind until she was quite panicked. She possessed nothing but her courage and the pathetic candle in her hand. She tried to hide it’s light behind her palm. She even considered blowing it out. But without it, she’d get lost down here. Finding her way in the black would be impossible. But what did she risk if she left it lit? Fear of discovery overtook her qualms, and on a whim she blew it out.
The sounds continued down the passageway while she listened, frozen in terror. Her other senses heightened as she reached out with them, clenching her fists to hold back panic, hoping that whatever it was would pass by. She stood like this for some time, until a noise rang out of the darkness, a gravelly, low voice calling low.
“Come here.”
At the sound, a shock of frozen terror ran through her chest like a knife. Could this being see her? Did they have eyes like a cat that penetrated the darkness? She didn’t know what to do, so she stayed still and silent.
“I heard ye before,” The voice said, “I know ye’re there.”
She felt like a cornered animal. She no longer had a light, nor any idea where she was. For all she knew, she’d wandered into a lion’s den. But the loss of her own light had revealed things she couldn’t see before. She’d been so focussed on the tiny flame in front of her, she hadn’t seen the dim light in the distance. She moved toward it slowly. The knowledge it would bring of her surroundings would be a definite advantage, her only advantage. As she moved, she saw vague shapes and structures around her, but she paid them little heed, seeking the light. Her eyes scanned back and forth watching for movement that could signal an immediate attack.
Soon, she saw that the light was a small fire. It’s light emanated up into a vast, open space, and over it’s flames hunched an ancient-looking woman. Annabelle drew closer and studied her. The woman was covered in thin rags, her skin caked with filth and covered with the deep lines of age. Rough, short and round as a potato, she appeared harmless enough. So Annabelle shuffled closer, conspicuous of her feet’s noise as they skimmed dirt and small stones on the floor. When she’d come within a few yards of the fire, the old woman looked up. Her eyes stared blindly through milky-white coverings. Annabelle’s gasped, but covered the sound with her hand.
“Who are ye,” the old woman said. “Why have ye come to this place?”
The woman’s eyes danced to and fro as she spoke. A prickling washed over her skin as she stood before the old creature. She felt strange and dizzy in the woman’s presence.
“I am Annabelle,” she said, wishing to be courteous. “And I... I’m looking for a way out of the city.”
Her voice echoed through the vast, open space as she noticed that the woman’s encampment was outside the facade of a dark building. No light showed from within, but the firelight showed piles of clutter in it’s interior. It was filled nearly to the top. There were piles and crates outside the doors as well. It looked like an old junk shop, filled to the brim and left to rot generations ago, and seasoned with the damp abandonment of this underground world.
They stood in a courtyard surrounded by buildings. It looked like an old, open marketplace with streets smattered with garbage and clutter. All the structures were dark and abandoned. Or at least appeared to be. The old woman wheezed a few breaths and stoked the fire in a strange way, as if by feel, using invisible reference points to guide her movements.
“Out?” she croaked in reply. Her speech was slow and deliberate.“There’s no way out here. These caverns run deep. They reach out into the darkness and bore down into the depths. But none go to the light.”
The woman’s voice croaked like a frog’s, and from time to time, she sniffed the air. Perhaps to make up for her lack of sight.
“Sit if ye will,” she offered.
Annabelle accepted the invitation and sat cautiously on a small, overturned barrel. Up close, the woman looked even more ancient. She was gnarled and hunched over, from hard work or long years, it wasn’t clear. Her face was marked not only by age, but with strange dotted scars and long, thin lines. Annabelle tried to assess their origin, squinting in the dim light, but felt she shouldn’t stare. Perhaps the woman could see a little. But even if she couldn’t, force of habit forbade Annabelle from staring rudely.
“Your voice,” the woman continued. “You are not from this place. You come from above.”
“Yes,” Annabelle replied.
“Your bustling streets are not for such as me,” the woman continued “I have forgotten them, long since. They are too much for one as me. Too much unlike my home.”
“...Where is your home?” Annabelle asked.
The woman’s wrinkled eyelids dropped over her white eyes.
“Another place,” she said darkly. “A place without your sun.”
“And, what brought you here?” Annabelle asked, swallowing hard.
The woman’s look darkened further before she answered.
“I was called,” she said, “By another who needed me and turned into a guard dog. That is what I am. A dog.”
The old woman chuckled weakly. It was a coarse, painful sound.
“Forgive me, ma’am,” Annabelle pressed, speaking softly. “But, what do you really do down here all by yourself?”
“Such questions,” the woman replied in her drawn-out, sleepy way, “Would be better put to the little miss.”
Annabelle told her whose “hospitality” she’d been enjoying, what she knew of him and his clan of thieves, as well as everything that led up to her capture. The old woman’s eyes flitted back and forth as she listened, turned wide. She seemed to be considering it all carefully. When Annabelle finished the story, the old woman’s face turned up to hers as if her whitened eyes could see. She wore a strange expression that chilled Annabelle, something like surprise, or awe. It was hard to tell.
“A strange story,” she said finally, her voice suspicious. “Could it be true?”
“I swear it, ma’am.”
The woman turned her face away. Her eyes glazed as if seeing off into a gr
eat distance. She mumbled indistinguishably to herself, looking agitated. Then she began to tremble all over, causing her rags to shuffle as if blown by the wind. Annabelle grew anxious, wondering if the woman was crazy or perhaps having a fit. She might lash out at any moment. Annabelle watched anxiously, glancing left and right, wondering if she should run. But then the trembling stopped, and all was silent.
“Ye are to go back,” the old woman croaked quietly.“Go back, while ye can.”
She was surprised at the woman’s answer. She thought the advice unsound at best and malicious at worst. It must be due to senility, madness or corruption. Of course she shouldn’t go back. But she feared the woman, and didn’t wish to openly defy her.
“D-Do you really think so, ma’am?” she said.
“Doubt me not,” the woman said.“Ye must.”
As the old woman spoke, her blind eyes seemed to look straight at Annabelle. It sent a chill down Annabelle’s spine. She didn’t know how to respond. She felt something strange in the woman’s presence, something she couldn’t describe. It crept up over her mind and covered her eyes like small hands. She felt the woman could see her, despite her blindness. It made her feel disoriented, dizzy. Confused. And as if a new sense was overtaking her.
“I am the keeper of these halls,” the woman said in her low voice. “Watching through eternal night. I watch for the fiends who steal in through the darkness. Here is the dwelling of dust and shadows. An innocent girl cannot eat shadows, nor drink the dust. Go back. The candle that brought ye here shall take ye back, but not forward.”
Annabelle swallowed back a chill, imagining who or what the woman meant by fiends. And how, indeed, the woman could “watch” when her eyes were blanketed with thick cataracts? She was stone blind.
“I- I believe I shall,” she said, her voice shaking. “Thank you for... your counsel ma’am. I-I am much obliged.”
Annabelle stood up awkwardly, and turned to go.
Beyond the Blue Light Page 7
