A Riddle in Bronze, page 28
"Replace the padlock, but do not close the hasp," Roberta told me. "We may have to leave this place in a hurry."
I did as I was told, and then we took the steps down to the platforms, our footsteps reverberating around the big tiled area. At the bottom Roberta climbed down onto the tracks without hesitation, then held her hands out so that I might pass down the equipment. I joined her, and she pointed down the tracks towards the gaping mouth of the tunnel. "We go that way."
"I hope they're not running any trains," I muttered, as we strode along parallel to the rails.
"Do not concern yourself about those. Rather you should be seeking my father's trail."
"Yes, of course."
We walked on, with only the noise of our footsteps on the clinker to break the silence. Roberta guided me, walking close, for my vision was badly affected by the lenses in my spectacles, and in addition I was peering to my left and right as I tried to pick up the trail. Deep within, I feared the spirits may have carried the professor's life force to some deep dark hole far below the Earth, in which case he was already as good as dead. But I said nothing, for there was still a slender hope and I did not wish to trouble Roberta unduly.
"Do you see anything?" she asked me in a whisper.
I shook my head.
"Tell me if you detect the slightest hint of a trail. I do not care if you are mistaken."
"Are you sure you don't want to wear these?" I asked her, indicating the glasses.
"No, I trust you."
My heart warmed at her words, and I redoubled my efforts, staring into every shadow with my eyes open wide. I scarcely dared blink, even though they watered from the effort. And then, as I was beginning to lose hope, I saw it. "There!" I muttered, pointing at the faint strand of light which emerged from the curved brick wall. "It leads away from us, down the tunnel."
"Faster," said Roberta, and she all but dragged me along with her.
I was following the trail, and after two hundred yards or so I took Roberta's arm. "Left here," I whispered, pointing.
There was a big opening in the tunnel wall, surrounded by unfinished brickwork and piles of broken earth. All of a sudden I recognised the place, for we'd passed these diggings on the way to the Snetton house just a day or two earlier. It was the new underground tunnel, the one where a collapse had killed several workers.
"In there?" Roberta asked me.
"I'm afraid so." Then I noticed something even more troubling. "The line we're following… it's getting thinner." It was true, for now I could barely see the fine thread in places, as though it were stretching to breaking point.
"We must hurry!" said Roberta desperately.
We had no choice, and so we strode into the diggings with no regard for our own safety. There were tools stacked against the walls, and fortunately there were flickering oil lanterns to illuminate the way, the glass in the frames dirty and stained. I wondered why there were not gas lights instead, but then I imagined the danger if one should go out. The tunnels would fill with explosive fumes, which would be ignited by the first train to pass by.
Then we rounded a bend, and I saw a patch of ghostly light ahead. Three phantasms were drifting along the tunnel, heading away from us, and they bore the professor's life spirit between them. Beyond, further around the corner, a dull red glow lit the tunnel. "Do you see them?" I asked Roberta.
"I do indeed," she muttered grimly, and she tightened her grip on the sword.
We caught up, moving as quickly and as silently as possible, and more details were revealed to us. There was something wrong with the life force they carried, for instead of a gleaming, coalescing ball of vital energy, it was weak and dull. It seemed a life force could not survive long outside of the host body, and vice versa.
"They're killing him," growled Roberta. "I must put an end to this."
"That weapon alone will not stop them," I said. "In the warehouse, I had to add power from your cousin's machine to defeat the phantasms attacking us."
She stopped dead and looked at me. "Could you not have mentioned this a little earlier? At times, Septimus, I really do wonder about you."
"I'm sorry, I—"
"No matter. Help me with the things."
We placed the knapsacks on the ground, and Roberta used the light of a nearby lantern to dig out the items she needed. A handful of metal discs, the trap with its suspended cylinder, and the small glass vial with its stopper… she placed them in a line, then retrieved a tool with a bulbous handle and wide jaws at both ends. Finally, she took out the net made from copper wire.
"Do you think those will work?" I asked.
"I believe you will have your answer a few minutes from now." Roberta gathered the items and stood. "Leave the rest here," she told me.
I took the net and the discs, and we set off after the spirits. They were drifting slowly along the tunnel, following a gentle curve to the right. Ahead of them was that baleful red glow, and as we got closer I turned to Roberta. "Where do you think they're taking your father?"
"They are not taking him anywhere," she said firmly. "Even if I must stand my own body in the way."
"Yes, but—" I gestured towards the glow. "What lies around the corner? Do you think it is the men at the tunnel face?" Even as I asked the question, I knew it could not be so. The red light was like the gleam of an open furnace, not the flickering yellow of candles and lanterns.
"It's possible that light shines from a rift," said Roberta slowly. "A gateway between worlds, like those which the attractor devices created. You recall the glimpse of a hellish domain, with countless spirits striving to pass through?"
I shuddered, for the memory of the red demons was still fresh. Then I saw the error in her argument. "But Edgar's machine was on the surface, and here we are below ground. Are you suggesting there is another of those devices in the underground tunnels?"
"No." Roberta indicated the ceiling, ten or fifteen feet above. "I'm suggesting we are somewhere beneath the warehouse, and that the red glow ahead of us may be positioned directly beneath."
"So even now, more of those foul demons might be gathering around the corner?"
"At this moment they are not our concern, for I plan to save my father first," said Roberta firmly. "If there is a greater evil beneath the streets of London, we will need his help to defeat it, for you and I cannot hope to prevail on our own. For that we shall need powerful weapons, stronger equipment, and every ounce of knowledge my father possesses."
By now the spirits were just ahead, and they'd just detected our approach. Two of them turned to meet us, while the third continued onwards with its prize. "We will capture them quickly," said Roberta. "Unfurl the netting, and do not let those spirits touch you!"
I did as I was told, while Roberta set the trap on the ground and inserted a fresh, empty cylinder. Then she took the discs, and with a series of overarm throws she placed them neatly ahead of the spirit carrying her father's life force. When it reached the discs it came to a stop, turning uncertainly from side to side. Roberta took one end of the net, and we took several paces away from each other, stretching it out. Then we advanced towards the pair of spirits nearest to us, the net held between us at the height of our waists.
They reversed direction, gliding backwards towards their companion, their features stretching into distorted caricatures of human faces. One moment they appeared to be elderly ladies, and the next one of them was a crying child while the other was a middle-aged man with whiskers. But no matter which face they presented, their eyes were black, bottomless pits.
We were still driving the spirits backwards towards the line of discs, which lay in the dirt at various angles. Some of these discs reflected the weak light from the oil lamps nearby, while the finely traced lines on the rest gleamed at me from the shadows. They had powers though, that was undeniable, for the retreating spirits came to a halt as though they'd encountered an invisible barrier. Roberta and I continued to approach, and now she unstoppered the small glass bottle with her teeth and threw the contents ahead of us. Thick purple smoke boiled across the ground, quickly filling the tunnel, and the spirits began to shrink within themselves, getting smaller and smaller. The one cradling the professor's life force bent its head and began to feed on the dull, glowing cloud in its arms, and as it did so it began to grow once more. The other two saw this, and moved towards it so that they too might feast on the professor.
Roberta was having none of this. Gripping the strange tool with its open jaws, she released the net and sprang forwards, leaving whirling eddies in the thick purple smoke at her feet. Then, as she reached the spirits, she thrust at them one-two-three with the device, eliciting a sharp crackling noise from each. There was an unholy wailing noise as the spirits were stretched out, the lower portion of their bodies drawn towards the trap like water to a hole in the ground. The metal cylinder at the heart of the trap began to gleam as it consumed its prey, and the more it gleamed, the faster it drew the spirits in. Soon there was only a head and shoulders for each of them, the rest being stretched out thin over a span of twenty feet or more. Then these too were drawn into the trap, and the cylinder's gleam went out.
The spirits having vanished, the professor's weak life force now swirled in mid-air, suddenly freed. For a moment it seemed to hover, moving this way and that, and then it stretched past us at tremendous speed, heading back up the tunnel. The swirling cloud thinned until none remained, and I turned to watch the tail end vanishing up the tunnel like a thrashing, transparent snake.
"Were we in time?" I demanded of Roberta. "Did we save him?"
"Oh, I hope so." She dropped the tool into my hands. "I must go and tend to him. Please… will you gather my things and follow?"
"Of course!" I cried. "Go!"
She needed no second bidding, turning and running back along the tunnel until she disappeared around the curve. I prayed she would find the professor made whole once more, and with a wry grin I wondered whether she'd thought to bring any brandy, for he was certain to ask for it.
Then I turned to my task, folding the net and picking up the now-featureless discs from the earthen floor. My final task was to collect the trap, and as I did so I studied the cylinder suspended within. Three powerful spirits trapped in one metal core! Would it hold, or would they explode outwards to consume me? Even as I watched, it shook savagely, and I almost dropped the trap in surprise. I recalled the shattered cylinder I'd seen several days earlier, when the professor and Roberta had returned from their cleansing at Lady Fotherington-Eames' residence. That one had failed with but a single spirit inside.
In the end I wrapped the trap tightly inside the copper net, reasoning it might afford me a few seconds of warning should the spirits escape their bronze prison. I shouldered both knapsacks, and was about to follow after Roberta when I happened to spy the red gleam further along the tunnel. She'd indicated that the three of us would be returning this way, assuming her father was fit enough to do so. We would return with weapons, and stronger traps, and we would be going further around that corner to face the unknown horrors which had crawled into our world through Edgar's rift.
So would it not make sense for me to take a very quick, very cautious look?
There was a risk I would have to flee back down the tunnel with a score of slavering demons at my heels, but it would be worth it if I returned with valuable information. The number of enemies, for example, and perhaps a description of their appearance. I knew it was the right thing to do, and so I set the haversacks against the wall and began my stealthy approach to the curve in the tunnel and the baleful red gleam beyond.
– — Ω — –
The closer I got to the bend in the tunnel, the louder my footsteps seemed to become, and the more certain I was that I would be heard. I stopped once or twice, knowing it was madness to continue, but I had an overwhelming need to see what terrors might await the three of us when we returned.
I had the revolver in one hand, still fully loaded in case I encountered Edgar. As for spirits, if I ran into a less than human opponent I resolved to turn and run until my legs would carry me no further.
As I reached the gentle curve I pressed myself to the smooth green tiles lining the wall, continuing around the corner in a crabwise fashion. In the newspapers, I'd seen claims that these underground tunnels would serve the city for a hundred years or more, and I wondered what marvels might exist in the year nineteen hundred and seventy-one. I would never know, of course, but I only hoped these people of the future did not have to face a world ravaged by foul spirits and demons. For if they did, the blame would lie entirely with me. Why, I should have taken a knife to Edgar the first time I met him, and then none of this would have happened!
I pushed these self-recriminations aside, and continued creeping along the wall. As I did so, the scene ahead came into view, and what I saw froze me in place.
The tunnel broadened into a large cavern with a high ceiling, which I guessed was to be a new station for the underground. But at this moment, instead of passengers, the entire cavern was filled with ghostly apparitions. There were spirits of all sizes, and they whirled clockwise around the circular area as though blown by a powerful wind. Only they moved in complete silence, and there was not even the hint of a breeze on my cheeks.
This gathering of spirits was revolving around something hidden in the centre of the cavern, something that glowed with the baleful red light that had attracted me here. I squinted to determine the source, and through the whirling clouds of gauze-like spirits I made out a narrow oval shape floating in mid-air, around eight feet tall with indistinct edges. The red light came from within, and the effect was like peering through an open door into a boiler's fire box. I had seen something similar in the professor's cellar, only on a much smaller scale. It had come into being when he'd started his attractor machine, opening what looked like a gate into a hellish, otherworldly place.
This, then, must be a portal, and it could only have been opened by Edgar's scaled-up version of the professor's machine. It was a rent in the very fabric of our world, and the power it exuded was drawing spirits and phantoms from all over the city. But had anything come through from the other side?
There was a temporary gap in the whirling spirits, and at that moment I saw more details. The first was a wooden bench, low to the ground, and upon it lay a motionless figure, bound hand and foot. Light from the portal gleamed on naked flesh, but at this distance I could not see whether the person was male or female. Standing beyond this unfortunate was my nemesis, Edgar, and reddish light glinted on the cruel, long-bladed knife in his hand.
But the scar-faced man was not alone. Standing on the near side of the bench, looking down at the victim, was a tall man, elegantly dressed in coat and tails. He carried a cane and wore a top hat, and looked for all the world like a dandy out on the town. I had a sudden crazed notion that this was Charles, Roberta's suitor, but I dismissed it. This man was taller, and I could see grey hair beneath the brim of his hat. Even as I watched, he signalled to Edgar, then gestured at the unfortunate tied to the bench.
To my horror, Edgar crouched and drew his knife swiftly across the naked victim's throat. Blood welled up, deeper and redder than that hellish light bathing the scene, but the poor victim of his blade did not move. Were they bound so tightly as to make movement impossible, or had they mercifully been reduced to unconsciousness before they were brutally slain?
I recoiled in horror at the ghastly sight, and as rivulets of blood ran down the victim's neck to splash on the ground beneath the wooden bench, a cry escaped my lips. It was not only the horror of the murder that shocked me, but also the sudden widening of the portal, for it had grown larger at the moment of the killing.
Unfortunately, I had larger concerns than the growing portal. The moment I cried out, the tall, well-dressed man turned in my direction, looking directly into my eyes. His face was twisted by blood-lust and fury, but I knew him all the same.
The man with the top hat, the man directing Edgar, was none other than Lord Snetton.
Chapter 36
I stood rooted to the spot, shocked beyond measure. Lord Snetton! He was behind the killings? Was Edgar nothing more than a hapless pawn in his master's devilish plans?
Snetton's features relaxed as he spied me, and suddenly he smiled. It was not an evil sneer, but the self-confident look of a man completely in command. And, to prove it, he raised his cane and pointed the tip at me. Instantly, the whirling phantasms formed into a stream, and after a half-circuit of the cavern they came straight towards my location. Edgar, meanwhile, sprang right over the unfortunate victim and started to run towards me. There was an intent look in his eye, and he gripped that knife as though he were most desperately keen to use it.
I did not hesitate. I turned and fled, my feet slipping and skidding on the loose soil underfoot. As I did so, Lord Snetton laughed long and hard, the sound magnified by that huge chamber. The echoes chased me along the tunnel, but I dared not look back because I knew what I would see… an army of spirits, each and every one of them ordered to chase me until I dropped, exhausted beyond measure. And then, when I could move no more, they would strip my life force and carry it back to their master so that he might feast on it. And afterwards, would Edgar take my near-dead body and tie it to that bench, in order to finish me utterly and completely?
But for now I was ahead of the spirits, and the scar-faced man with his bloodied knife, and I ran for all I was worth. The revolver was in my hand, and as I ran I pointed it behind myself, firing off two shots in the hope they would dissuade my human pursuer at least. The reports were deafening, and as the echoes faded I heard fragments of tiles smashed from the walls, and the whine of spent bullets ricocheting down the tunnel.
I ran on until I saw the haversacks propped against the wall where I'd left them. Was there anything inside I could use? There was no time for nets, and the small discs had been drained of their power, but Roberta's curious tool might hold the spirits at bay while I held Edgar off with my pistol.
