Children Without Faces, page 10
“Tunnels,” Trip said. “They go all over underneath the Thicket, maybe underneath the whole bloody town. Ya can get from one place to another without bein’ seen, if you know the way.”
“But darkness lives there,” Leaf said, sharply. “Bigs, some, but mostly darkness. Shadow and monsters, all waiting to snap ya up. That’s why we don’t go there; that’s why I didn’t tell ya, fool,” she added, cuffing her brother on the head before he could argue.
“Show it to us,” Dani said, raising her hand to cut off any argument. “Toby and I’ve already been chased by a man. We call him Rider, and he has a demon with him, stuffed into…into a boy. One of us. He came and went like a shadow. This might be how he gets around. If we can figure out the right opening, we can take this to the Watchers as proof.”
There was more, Toby could see it, but she shut her mouth. He looked at Trip — he knew, but Pip’s face made it clear that she didn’t. Toby struggled to swallow, guilt and fear gnawing at him, and it took struggle to replace it with anger.
“We’ll take ya,” Trip said, finally.
“We ain’t goin’,” Leaf said, shaking her head. “Not for anythin’.”
“Leaf,” Kale said, but she glared at him.
“No, ya hear? Neither of us, not ever. Let this lot get killed if that’s what they want. We’ll have no part.” She grabbed his arm, dragged him away from the group.
“Let them go,” Dani said, and Toby grunted his agreement.
“I’ll show you the way,” Trip said, again. “But Pip and I ain’t comin’ in. Can’t risk it. ’Sides, I reckon there ain’t anything there for us, is there now?”
“No,” Toby said, softly. “I don’t think there is.”
“Is there any hope?”
“Maybe,” Dani said. “Don’t know much about demons, to be frank. I’m learning, though.”
“What are you talking about?” Pip demanded, her small face scrunched into a scowl.
“Nothin’,” her brother said, pulling her into a tight hug. “Just, nothin’.”
“Let’s go, then,” Glen said, cracking his knuckles. “I want to see this darkness. If it took Shay, I aim to do something about it.”
Toby managed a shaky grin, but all he could think of was Grim, and how it’d look if the demon wore Dem’s face. He didn’t think he could bear it. “I’m comin’, Dem,” he muttered. Dani’s hand found his, and he squeezed hers tight. At least he didn’t have to do this alone.
The thought carried him through the silent walk, taking care to follow after the others closely. The Thicket pressed in on Toby, twisted old buildings towering above them, some a whole three stories high. Now and again, he thought he spotted someone peering at them through broken slats, or from over a rooftop. They were always gone when he looked, though, and the others didn’t say anything or stop long enough for him to check.
Eerie silence hung around them, broken only by the scrambling sound of their own footsteps, and the occasional explosion of wings and angry caws from crows they disrupted.
Finally, Trip stopped in front of a pile of old broken barrels and crates. “Here,” he said, his arm tightening around Pip’s shoulders. “This is one of the openings. Gotta dig down a little, and you’ll find it. Tad kept stuff over ’em, to keep ’em hidden.”
“Thanks,” Toby said, stepping past Glen to shake Trip’s hand. “I won’t forget this.”
“I ain’t doin’ it for you,” he said, but he accepted the hand — Toby wiped his on his pants leg after, and couldn’t help but notice his clothes were getting downright filthy. He’d be doing laundry for ages after all this blew over.
Dani stepped over, her own skirts only mildly more clean. “Leaf mentioned darkness being down there. Do you know what she was talking about?”
Trip didn’t quite meet her eyes, his shoulders hunching as if to avoid a blow. “Tad said the same thing. Shadows moved, and sometimes, he heard whispers when there weren’t nobody there. Kids go missin’, sometimes, down there. Get et — that’s what he said, but it was safer than the surface, with bastards like him runnin’ around.” He glared at Glen, who frowned back.
“I don’t know what the big deal is,” he said.
“You don’t?” Trip laughed darkly. “You find people’s nests, take their stuff. If they get in your way, you rough them up, and ya keep comin’ back.”
“It’s just stuff!” Glen protested, and Trip stepped forward, shoving the bigger boy back.
“It ain’t! It’s home and safety and survival. It’s how we eat, and how we keep from freezin’. You take it all, ’n we can’t do a thing about it.”
“I got mouths to feed too,” Glen muttered, turning away. “Least, I did.”
“We all got ’em,” Trip said, and Pip clung to his side, her large dark eyes watching everything. “We all do.”
“This isn’t helping,” Dani said.
“Yeah. We gotta get going.” Toby went over to the barrels, thankful for something to do. Their house had gotten broken into, a few years back. The Watch wasn’t easy on those that took what wasn’t theirs, but no one starved because of it. What would it be like, to know that his whole world could be shattered cause someone found his home?
Dem’s terrified white face flashed, and Toby shivered; he thought he had an idea, now.
“Find anything?” Dani asked at his shoulder, her side pressing lightly against his.
Toby grunted, forced himself to look. The barrels weren’t stacked neatly, and most of them wouldn’t hold nothing more than dust, but one of them at the base lay on its side, and was mostly whole. Peering down, he squinted — shadows lay deep and dark, and it smelled funny, like the sea.
“I think that bottom’s been knocked out,” he said, and got on all fours. Likely, he could squeeze through the barrel’s rim without trouble. Glen would have to wriggle, but it served him right. Crawling forward, Toby prayed to any god that would listen that he wouldn’t run into any spiders that would kill him. There were some that would; others would just leave him paralyzed to get eaten.
Thankfully, no webs broke against his face or his groping hand, and Toby pushed in deeper. At the end of the barrel, he could barely feel the opening in the ground, rough rocks rimming a sharply sloping tunnel.
“I found it,” he called back, bashing his head against a low-hanging rock, enough to make him yelp.
“Can you go further in?” Dani asked, her voice a hushed whisper. “Gods, I wish I had trousers.”
“You could always take your skirt off,” Glen offered, then cursed loudly; Dani had kicked him, if Toby was any guess.
“You mind your eyes, hands, and manners, or I’ll mind ’em for you,” Dani said.
“Yeah, yeah,” Glen muttered.
Toby went forward, careful, his eyes slowly adjusting to the gloom. It wasn’t pitch black down here, once he got to the bottom of the tunnel’s slope, and the ceiling was high enough that he could stand. The sides of the tunnel alternated rough and smooth, in little wavy patterns that reminded him of dirt after the rain.
Small splotches of glowing stuff clung to the rocks, giving off an eerie light just bright enough to see, though not too far. Scooting over to let Dani through, he went to take a closer look. It was moss, or looked like it, and it flickered when he poked it. “Weird.”
“Tell me about it,” Dani said, shaking her skirts out a little. “Who knew this was under our feet all along?”
“I didn’t,” Glen said, sounding unhappy about that fact. “No one ever told me, or warned me.”
“Let’s keep our voices down,” Toby said, glancing up at both of them. “Remember what the others said. Shadows and stuff, not to mention the Rider and his Grim.”
The other two grunted their agreement, and Toby started walking carefully down the tunnel. The ground stayed unpredictable and uneven beneath his feet, threatening to trip him if he tried to move faster. It wasn’t light enough to go faster anyhow, and the slight breeze carried the scent of salt and something else; something foul.
They walked in silence like that for what seemed like forever, following the tunnel’s winding curves. It branched out, now and again, and the floor plunged down even more. Each time, Toby stopped to have a whispered discussion with Dani, leaving Glen out of it as much as possible. To keep from getting lost, they always turned right, figuring that would make it easy to get back.
He was about to do the same as he reached another split in the tunnel when something made him stop. A sound, echoing through the tunnels, different from the low rhythmic roar of what could only be the waves smashing against the cliffs, different from the sounds of their own labored breathing. Voices and, up the right path, a flickering light.
“Down,” he breathed, sinking as low as he could get. Dani did the same, her hand light on his back, and he arched against it as he leaned forward to peer around the corner.
The light flickered and grew, the voices continuing, low and deep; men’s voices. Grown men, not those like Dale, just a few years past their majority, but strong and full, like Da’s or Mr. Thatcher’s. One of them was familiar, too, and he could just barely make out words if he stopped breathing long enough.
“…not sure why we’re waiting, or what for,” said one, his voice harsh and ugly, and horribly familiar. Toby struggled to remember where he’d heard it before, but it eluded him.
“Trust the boss,” the deeper voice said. “He knows what he’s doing.”
“No time better, though, ta do what needs doin’. The Hand is gone; how often does that happen?”
The sharp sound of a hand slapping flesh preceded a curse. “Fool,” Deep said, and the light stopped getting closer. “You think that was an accident? You’re thicker than rock.”
“Alright, no need to get mean,” Raspy whined, and the light started moving again. “Just, I don’t like skulkin’, that’s all.”
“It’s all you’re good for, you mean.”
Carefully, Toby eased forward to see if he could get a look, judge how close the light was. They had to move back before it got too close, find somewhere to hide. As his face cleared the turn’s edge, something smashed into his eye. Toby yelped without thinking, swatting — his hand smacked something large and furry, and the rat-like shape bounced off of a wall, squeaking.
“What was that?” Deep said, the light stopping again.
“Rats,” Raspy said, and a rock sailed out of the darkness, bouncing close to Toby’s face. “Missed it.”
Dani grabbed Toby’s shirt, hauled him back and away. Glen glared him, and pushed them both back.
“No, before that,” Deep was saying, suspicion in his voice. “Sounded like a kid.”
“Rats, like I said,” Raspy snickered, and the distinct sound of boots scraping followed.
“They’re coming,” Toby hissed, his heart starting to pound, and he nearly tripped on the uneven floor.
“No duh,” Dani muttered, her hand still on his shirt, the pressure helping him keep his balance.
“Shut it,” Glen said, behind them.
The lamp’s light spilled around the corner just as they turned another, plastering themselves against the wall’s curved surface.
“See anything down there?” Raspy asked.
“No, but that doesn’t mean we’re not missing it. Someone’s down here. We’d better tell the boss.”
The light swayed, then left, the two men moving off down the tunnels. Relief made Toby’s knees weak, and he sagged against the wall. “Too close,” he said, struggling to slow his breathing.
“What’d you go and scream like a ninny girl for?” Glen demanded, his voice still pitched low.
“There was a rat.” Saying it aloud made Toby flush with shame, and he forced himself to his feet. “Don’t laugh, there was.”
“No one’s laughing. Thank goodness it wasn’t a stinkrat.” Dani’s hand covered her mouth, her brown eyes belying her words.
“You’re both rats,” Glen muttered, shaking his head. “Come on, can’t explore this place with Bigs around. They’ll gut us faster than the Fishers gut fish.”
“Don’t push,” Toby said, stumbling from the shove, and he headed back the way they’d come. If this was here, what else did Cold Harbor hide in plain sight?
13
Shut it,” Dani said as they tromped through the darkening streets. The light had fled swiftly when the storm clouds gathered overhead. The stiff breeze blew them in, swirling leaves around Toby’s boots. Forest-wind; death-wind.
“I wasn’t sayin’ anything,” Toby protested, cranky because it was true. He hadn’t, not since they’d left Glen at the Thicket’s edge.
“You weren’t saying anything plenty loud,” she said, giving his shoulder a smack. “Loud enough to interfere with my thinking.”
Toby sighed, dodged a small goat being chased by an even smaller child, and bumped into Dani deliberately. “I’m just thinking about what we know, and what we just think we know, you know?”
“No. Why don’t you tell me.”
He ignored her tone, and figured he might as well answer her not-question. It’d serve her right. “Tunnels go all through the Thicket, likely all through Cold Harbor. That’s how the Rider can go around, that’s how he appeared outta nowhere at the warehouses ’n scared Dem. It’s how he disappeared at the Golden Peach’s cellar, and how he grabbed Dem at my cellar.”
“You sure that was all him?”
Toby snorted. “Who else would it be? But see, the barrels in the Thicket got me thinking. If that entrance was hidden, it’s cause Tad hid it before he got snatched. So, who hid the entrances in the buildings? I sure never seen a hole in my cellar, ’n I’d know. I scrub it often enough.”
Dani stumbled, then checked her boot, scowling at it. Her skirts lifted enough for Toby to catch glimpse of another mottled bruise; Dale and his friends had done a number on her. It made him angry just thinking about it, so he didn’t.
“Well?” he said instead.
“Look, Toby. I don’t know, alright? I just don’t. There aren’t any answers that I can see.” She checked the sky, whistled. “Gonna be a big one tonight, I’d reckon.”
“Yeah, sure.” He stepped in front of her, getting in her way. “You ain’t sayin’ much.”
“I never say much,” she said, pushing past him, and turned down the street that led to Toby’s house. He ran to catch up, bumping into her again to make her stumble.
“So,” he said, catching his breath.
“So what?”
“Who were those thugs workin’ for? They sounded familiar to me.”
Dani gave him a funny look, and he rolled his eyes at her. “What?”
“All adults sound familiar. It’s Cold Harbor.” She shook her head.
“So, you don’t know who they were?”
“Did I say I did?”
“No, but you didn’t say you didn’t. Come on, Dani. It’s important.”
“I don’t know who they were. Leave off it.”
Toby scowled, not sure what had suddenly crawled up her skirts and bit. Something fierce, likely. “Fine. Well, if the Rider’s got men workin’ for him, that means others know. Makes it more dangerous checkin’ into it, you know?”
“Yeah,” she said, more softly. “I know.” Dani glanced over, smiled politely at an older couple that stood underneath the overhang of their roof.
“Gonna be a big one,” the older man said, gesturing at the sky.
“I reckon,” Dani agreed pleasantly.
“Blowin’ from the forest,” the woman said, shaking her head. “Gotta bring in the plants ’fore they get scorched. Hurry home, now.”
“Yes ma’am,” Toby grumbled, and took the hint, stepping up the pace. They were getting close to his place anyhow.
“I’m gonna talk to Da about this,” he said once his house was in view. The light in the window suggested Da was home; probably hadn’t even left his sullen place by the fire. Probably hadn’t done anything to find Dem at all. Figured.
“You sure that’s wise?” Dani asked, slowing. “Say he don’t believe us?”
“He already thinks I’m a child.”
“You are a child,” but she grinned to show she was kidding.
It didn’t help. “You keep saying,” Toby snapped.
“You were the one who screamed at a rat.”
He glared, squared his shoulders, chin lifting. “I’m nearly a man grown. Don’t know why you keep going on about it. I’ve been man enough, I think, taking care of Da and —”
“I’m sorry, alright?” Dani said, saving him from saying it. “Let’s go talk to him.”
Toby grunted and led the way, still angry. They all kept on about it. Ouraen’s Day couldn’t come swift enough; everyone might be a year older then, but only his was the important step. Then they’d give him some respect.
Da sat by the fire; Toby could see his hunched shoulders when he walked in, outlined by the flickering flames. No lamps were lit, and the dishes were still stacked in the wash tub that was likely dry as bones. It smelled stale, with an acidic bite brought by the wind that followed him and Dani in.
Worse of all, Da didn’t even raise his head, like he was sleeping or dead.
“I’m home,” Toby said, firm enough to banish the thought, and head off any argument Da might have.
“Fine,” Da said, still unmoving.
“Evening, Mr. Weldon,” Dani said, using her polite voice that she normally used on the Mayor or the Watch. Toby rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms. He wasn’t gonna be overly polite, not till Da earned it.
“Daniella. Best you get home, now. Your Pa will be missing you.” Geol laughed, a harsh sound like a crow’s call. “He’s been here too often already. Another time, that’s all I have left.”
“She ain’t goin’, not yet,” Toby said, stomping over toward the fire and slouching against the warm mantle. Severine’s heart, the warmth felt good against his wet and cold clothes. Even he couldn’t miss the dirty, wet tracks he left behind on the floor. His floor.
Finally, Da raised his head, regarded Toby through hooded eyes. “She isn’t?”
