B00DW1DUQA EBOK (42 page)

‘Finn and Diane are going to try and get back inside Engn.’

‘No.’ Bran looked stunned. It took him a few moments to reply. ‘But why? Why would you do that?’

His father looked at Finn but didn’t reply.

‘There are others still in there,’ said Finn. It seemed they could trust Bran but, still, there was no point in telling him everything. ‘Others we might be able to get out.’

‘Ah,’ said Bran, nodding, as if it all now made sense. ‘Did I tell you my own son is in there?’

‘You did,’ said Finn. ‘What’s his name?’

‘Owyn. I heard he was a master. Did you ever come across him at all? He was short, like me.’

Finn could suddenly see it. There in Bran’s face, unmistakably, were the features of Master Owyn staring back at him. Perhaps if things had been different Owyn would have been different, too. More like his father. The masters were victims as well, in their own way.

‘Yes,’ said Finn. ‘I knew him. A few years back. He was … alive and well then. A master, like you said.’

‘Ah!’ The old man simply looked at Finn, a look of pure joy on his lined features.

‘The thing is, Bran,’ said Finn’s father. ‘We need your help to find a tunnel.’

‘A tunnel?’

‘It goes directly into something called the Directory,’ said Finn. ‘Do you know it?’

Bran looked thoughtful for a moment. He said nothing but his lips moved. Finn had the clear impression he was singing a song to himself. Finally, the old man nodded. ‘Yes. I know it. But you shouldn’t go that way. A few have tried and most haven’t come out again.’

‘Will you tell us where it is?’ asked Finn.

Bran considered. ‘I couldn’t help you before when I should have. But I will help you now. For that and because of the news about my son.’

‘We have to hurry,’ said Finn. ‘There are Ironclads looking for us.’

‘Let us go then,’ said Bran. ‘The sooner we go the sooner I can be back to keep watch for Owyn.’

The four of them set off in a line, away from the warmth of Bran’s fire towards the looming bulk of the walls of Engn. The walked for an hour or more, none of them speaking. Three times they heard further whistles, but always in the distance. Each time they stopped and listened in absolute silence, Finn dreading to hear the thunder of hooves charging towards them.

They clung to the shadows, threading their way between the fires. Only the lights from Engn illuminated their path. Finally they stopped at the top of a steep bank, a depression in the ground on whose slopes grew thickets of scratchy bushes. A jumble of boulders lay all around the bottom of the pit, as if it had once been a quarry. They were very close to the walls here. Finn could feel the familiar thrumming and booming noises through his feet. It was strange, he had almost missed them.

‘It’s down there,’ said Bran. ‘It’s well hidden. There’s a stone cap you’ll need to pull aside.’

‘But there must be hundreds of boulders down there,’ said Finn.

‘The one you want is half-way down the slope, hidden in the bushes,’ said Bran. ‘It’s big. You’ll need to be strong to budge it.’

‘I can do that,’ said Finn’s father.

‘Why is it here?’ asked Diane, suspicion clear in her voice. ‘If the Ironclads know there’s a tunnel here why don’t they seal it up? They must guard it at least.’

‘No, no,’ said Bran. ‘The Ironclads don’t know about it do they? You won’t find any of them at the other end. This takes you to the Directory. No Ironclads there, are there?’

‘How do you know that?’ asked Diane. ‘And why haven’t you used the tunnel to get inside yourself?’

‘I know that because I have used the tunnel myself.’

‘You?’

‘Many years ago now. I crept inside looking for Owyn. Then I crept right out again when it became clear he wasn’t there.’

‘But that makes no sense,’ said Diane. ‘You could have looked for him in the rest of Engn.’

‘No,’ said Bran. ‘You don’t understand. The Directory is isolated. You can’t get anywhere else from there. It’s the secret heart of Engn. The centre, the control. And the Ironclads aren’t allowed there.’

‘But the masters control Engn,’ said Finn. ‘And the Inner Wheel governs them. Everyone knows that.’

‘Then they know nothing,’ replied Bran. ‘The masters just do what they’re told by the Directory. Always have. Even the Inner Wheel is just a tool of the Directors. They’re the real power in Engn. The masters carry out their instructions.’

‘So there’ll be Silverclads there?’ asked Finn.

‘No, not them neither! The Directors don’t allow them, don’t allow anyone. No-one goes in or out, don’t you see? The Directory has walls all of its own inside the walls of Engn. It’s the brain in the body.’

‘Yet they have this tunnel people can crawl through to get inside,’ said Diane. ‘And they let you get in and they let you escape. How can that be?’

‘You’ll see why, young lady. It’s not a tunnel to them, is it? It can’t possibly be a tunnel, can it? I escaped because they didn’t think escape was even possible.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Diane.

‘You’ll see.’

‘You said others have used the tunnel,’ said Finn. ‘Has anyone else ever escaped this way?’

‘None I ever heard of,’ said Bran. ‘I was lucky I suppose. I didn’t hang around when I saw how things were. Now if you’re going, go now, before the Ironclads find us. Plenty of them out here at least, especially with you two on the run.’

Bran was right. They couldn’t stand here all night debating what to do. Finn began to scramble down into the dip. He worked his way awkwardly through the dense, stubborn boughs of the bushes. He could see nothing around him and had to feel his way: reach out with his hands to pull aside the bushes, use his feet to feel around for the stone cap. His father and Diane followed him. Bran stayed where he was, up on the lip of the hollow.

Finn stumbled over the entrance half-way down the slope. A round boulder half-embedded in the earth. It was certainly in the right place. A tunnel behind it would lead directly towards the machine.

The three of them set to work. Wrapping their fingers around the edge of the boulder they began to pull. The stone
was
massive, but Finn could feel it moving slightly as they pulled. It was awkward standing part-way down the slope, slightly off-balance. He imagined the rock coming suddenly loose and the three of them tumbling down the slope in an avalanche of soil and stone.

‘Rock it,’ said his father. ‘Rock it loose.’

They worked away for some time, getting into a rhythm of pulling the stone aside then letting it fall back. Slowly it began to work free.

‘One more heave,’ said his father.

They put all their strength into it, Finn grunting with the effort. The great stone budged and came forwards. For a moment it balanced on its end, deciding which way to fall. Finn grasped one of the thicker boughs around him and tried to swing out of the way. The stone came to its decision and toppled forward, down the slope, crashing between the boughs of the bushes to land at the bottom of the hollow.

‘Have you found it?’ Bran shouted down. He sounded distant, as if he’d walked some way away.

‘I think so,’ called Finn. He kneeled at the place where the stone had been and felt the ground. There was a hollow there. He reached forward and touched stone-lined walls, leading away under the ground. It was low; they would have to crawl on hands and knees.

‘How long is the tunnel?’ Finn shouted up. ‘Do we need directions like before?’

‘No directions, no turnings,’ called Bran. ‘Just go straight and you’ll get there.’

‘How far?’

But the old man didn’t answer.

‘You’d better go,’ said Finn’s father.

They hugged again, almost overbalancing and sending themselves after the boulder. Then Finn let go and crouched down at the tunnel entrance.

‘You don’t have to come any farther, Diane,’ he called back. ‘You said you’d come with me to the entrance. I can go in alone.’

‘Oh, no,’ she said. ‘You’d only mess everything up. Look how long it took you to escape last time.’

She was trying to make light of it but he could tell she was terrified. He was, too. His insides fizzed with fear at the thought of going back inside.

‘I’ll wait here as long as I can,’ said his father. ‘In case the tunnel is blocked.’

Finn felt his father’s hand on his shoulder, his grip strong. Finn squeezed it, then began to crawl forwards into the darkness.

They crawled for a long time, the sound of their laboured breathing filling the narrow tunnel. Finn’s knees soon ached sharply; he felt as though his bones had worked his way out of his skin to jut against the stones of the floor. The tunnel was utterly dark. Every now and then something tickled his face: the fronds of a tree’s roots or a spider’s web. For a while his father called to them, asking how they were, his voice hollow and sounding strangely near. But now, when Finn called back, there was no reply. His father had gone. Perhaps the Ironclads had been sighted nearby.

The air grew warmer and thicker. It was impossible to know how far they’d travelled. Somewhere up above them were the walls of Engn: those massive stone ramparts pressing down into the ground. He imagined he could feel their crushing weight. He thought the tunnel sloped down slightly, but it was hard to be sure. Perhaps it burrowed down to get under the walls. He thought about Bran’s words, the tunnel not really being a tunnel. It made no sense but he was too tired to try and work it out. He couldn’t think straight. He had to just keep going.

‘How much farther do you think?’ Diane sounded exhausted behind him. Her knees must be in agony too. He was probably more used to crawling around in caverns than she was.

‘Don’t know. Do you think the tunnel is sloping?’

‘I thought it was,’ She spoke in short bursts, between breaths. ‘Now it seems level.’

The ground was certainly muddier down here, with little pools of chilling water. They were very welcome, numbing Finn’s knees. But soon the ground hardened back to stones. They seemed to be climbing once more. What was above them now? What great mechanism was up there above their heads? The deep
whumping
sound through the ground grew louder and louder. It felt as if the whole tunnel shook with each thump. He tried not to think about the ceiling giving way, the tunnel collapsing.

They crawled on and on, neither speaking. Twice Finn thought about suggesting they turn back, that the tunnel was endless, in some sort of loop. Perhaps that was what Bran had meant. But there wasn’t enough room to spin around in the cramped passage and the thought of reversing all that way was too much. They could only grind onwards. He closed his eyes as he went, drifting into a half-slumber, the pain in his knees and hands filling his mind, his whole universe. Worried he might be missing something, some side-passage, he forced his eyes open again and again, but he could never see anything. Then his eyes would slip shut and the nightmare crawl would continue.

So it was that he was momentarily confused when his head struck a solid wall of earth and stone in front of him.

‘What is it?’ He felt Diane’s outstretched hand on his foot.

‘The end of the tunnel. There’s a wall.’

‘Is there a way out?’

Finn felt about with his hands, to the sides, above his head, but felt only stone and soil. ‘Perhaps we missed it in the darkness,’ he said, trying to keep the panic from his voice, Perhaps, after everything, the tunnel was a dead end.

‘Here. It’s here,’ said Diane from behind him. ‘There’s a wooden door in the side of the passage. We crawled right past it.’

‘Is it locked?’

He heard Diane grunting with the effort of pushing and pulling the door. The end of the tunnel was slightly wider. There was enough room to turn and go back to help. He found her arms in the darkness, and then the door. Between them they tried to push it open.

‘It’s moving,’ said Diane. ‘It’s just swollen in its frame.’

Finn turned so his feet were against the door, back braced against the tunnel wall. He pushed with all his strength. With a sudden flurry of loosened soil and pebbles that made his heart leap in alarm, the door gave way. Light burst in. Diane was surprisingly close to him, her face covered in grime. Through the door they could see a flight of stone steps leading upwards. One after the other they crawled through and set off up to the surface.

They emerged, squinting, out of breath, in a square, stone room. A passageway led off from it, tall enough to walk down. Electric lights strung out along the ceiling of the passageway provided a flickering illumination. The walls were of square-cut stones, well-made. There was no-one in sight. He’d expected guards at least.

‘Do you think we’re back above ground?’ he asked. Diane stood beside him, brushing herself down with her muddy hands.

‘I suppose so,’ she said. ‘There’s no lichen on the walls. Come on, let’s see what’s down the passage.’

The passage snaked left and right as they crept forwards. There were no other doors leading off it. They could only go one way. They emerged, suddenly, into a large, airy room, windows providing bright illumination. A woman sat at a large desk in the centre, working on a contraption of iron wheels and electrical wires. A generator or something similar. The pungent smell of solder filled the air, instantly familiar to Finn from his father’s workshop back in the valley. The woman appeared to be designing the device, scribbling notes into a large book as she slotted parts of it together. She looked confused when Finn and Diane stepped warily into the room.

‘Are you lost?’ she asked. She had brown hair, cropped very short so it didn’t get in the way of her machinery. For the briefest moment Finn thought she might be Shireen. She would have changed, of course, and she certainly wouldn’t recognize him. But her strong-boned face didn’t look remotely familiar. Without waiting for an answer she turned back to her work, attempting to fit a cogged wheel into something like a gearbox.

‘We’re just … on our way through,’ said Finn.

‘Where from?’ she asked without looking up at them. ‘You’re both covered in mud.’

‘We came along the passageway,’ said Diane. ‘The tunnel that leads … away from here.’