The Return of the Witch (38 page)

“I have some carrots for him.” I held up the bag, feeling a little foolish. There were children here whose need for the things was probably greater. “I promised Nipper I would give them to the pony, so I could tell him I'd seen him.”

Robin glanced around. “Well, we'd 'ave to be quick. If Mister Antrobus sees us there'll be hell to pay.”

“There's sixpence in it for you,” Erasmus suggested. I knew he meant well, but he had judged the boy wrong. Robin frowned at him.

“I'll take you,” he said, “but I don't want your money. Missus 'ere fixed us all up, right as rain,” he pointed out, raising his broken fingers, which were still bandaged in the strip of my scarf. “Come on, then.” He turned and we followed him through the low arch of the entrance.

The tunnel was wide enough to allow broad wagons to pass along it, and this breadth gave the impression that the ceiling was pressing down upon us as we traveled deeper down its slope. The air quickly became stale and dusty, and soon we had to rely on the oil lamps placed at irregular intervals along the way, as we were beyond the reach of both streetlights and any natural light had it been daytime. As we descended, all sounds became curiously distorted. It was not so much that they were muffled, more that they were compressed, so that everything sounded close-up. A wagon trundling some distance ahead of it sounded as though we were walking beside it as its wheels creaked and groaned beneath the weight of its load. Shouts and whistles made me start, as I had the impression they had been uttered up close to my own ears.

Robin led us along a rising ramp that spiraled downward again before opening into a long row of stalls. It was quite incredible to find here, so far under the city pavements and cobbles, stables housing dozens of ponies and horses. The larger animals had stalls to themselves and were snatching mouthfuls of hay from overstuffed mangers. The smaller ones stood three or four to a space, resting wearily, content to share their rations of fodder. Despite the subterranean setting and the scant air from vents, which presumably led up to street level, there was a cozy, homely feel to the stables. The smell of hay and horse was not unpleasant, and there was something comforting about the sound of all those animals munching their feed, at rest, peaceful.

Robin gently slapped a skinny white pony on the rump. “This is Stardust. Nipper an' him's best friends. Never see one without the other, you don't. Or least, you didn't.”

I moved carefully between the ponies and offered Stardust a carrot. He sniffed the unfamiliar vegetable for a moment, then decided it was good to try and took the whole thing into his mouth, chomping happily.

Behind me, Erasmus laughed. “He appears well enough,” he said. I passed him the bag and we shared out the rest of the carrots.

“Is this where Nipper comes every day?” I asked Robin.

“Comes? Nipper doesn't go anywhere, so 'e can't come, can 'e? Nipper lives 'ere, missus. With the ponies.” He nodded toward a pile of sacking and hay in the corner of the space. A nest for a small boy.

Erasmus asked, “Has he no family at all?”

Robin shrugged. “None I've ever heard about. None 'cept Stardust,” he said, rubbing the pony's ears.

I could feel Aloysius wriggling in my pocket. “Robin, I wonder if you could show us where the accident happened.”

“You want to see where the wagon tipped over?”

“If we can.”

“Won't do you no good. Nothing there now.”

“No, but, well…” I hesitated. How safe was it to talk of a girl held prisoner? I trusted Robin, but he might tell the wrong person about our search, and if word got back to Gideon that we were close he might move Tegan before we could find her. And I could put Robin in danger. I decided not to draw him into the situation any further than was absolutely necessary. “Nipper thinks he dropped something there. A pocketknife.”

“He never mentioned he had one of those.”

“It was very precious to him, he told me. I expect that's why he kept it a secret.”

With a sigh, Robin took one of the oil lamps from its stand on the wall and marched ahead again. “This way, then, only if we sees Mr. Antrobus, we'll 'ave to leg it.”

We left the warmth of the stables and followed a tunnel which led around Dead Dog Basin, joining the canal to the network of underground passes, some of which would ultimately lead to the railway station at King's Cross. There was a chilling dampness about these passageways, and their proximity to water seemed to increase the number of rats we saw scurrying this way and that as we passed.

“This is the spot.” Robin held up the lamp so we could see more of the area. Erasmus was better at playing out our pretense and began searching for the nonexistent pocketknife. There were still small piles of spilled coal which had not been cleared up, and a stomach churning gouge in the brickwork where part of the heavy cart had dug into it as it fell. If Nipper had been a few inches farther back he would have been crushed.

I peered into the darkness down which the tunnel disappeared. “Does this lead only to the canal unloading point?” I asked.

“Oh, no, missus. There's forks and junctions all along.”

“And where do the other tunnels go?”

He shrugged. “Some to storage spaces, one goes to the marmalade factory—you can smell that one! Back there is where they keeps the ice.”

“The ice?”

“Comes in all the way from Norway on a big ship. It's stored deep so it don't melt. Some of it goes to the posh houses, but most is for the ice-cream factory. Hard stuff to offload, missus, I don't mind telling you.”

Erasmus whispered to me he thought it was an unlikely place to keep a prisoner for fear of them freezing to death.

Robin pointed. “There's another tunnel leads back up top. Couple more, I don't know where they go.”

Erasmus ran his hand down the rough brickwork of the wall. “It is a veritable maze. A person might easily become lost in such a place.”

“Some do,” Robin agreed. “You learn quick down 'ere—stick to the ways you know. Canal to railway station and back. Up to the stables at the end of the day. And then up top, for those who 'as somewhere to go.”

I exchanged worried glances with Erasmus. How were we to find Tegan with so little time? We could waste the whole night wandering fruitlessly in the grimy labyrinth. I took Aloysius from my pocket. “Tell me, Robin, have you ever seen this mouse before?”

He peered at it, amused that I should be carrying such a thing, but clearly puzzled by its presence. “That's a rare 'un. Mostly big brown rats down 'ere. Nah, I ain't seen 'im before.”

I spoke quietly to Erasmus. “I think we should set Aloysius down and see which way he goes. He could lead us to Tegan.”

“He could, or he could scuttle around in circles, or get set upon by his somewhat larger brethren,” he said, pointing at a particularly fat rat that sat watching us.

“We are running out of options.”

A small voice startled us both.

“I could 'elp you, missus.”

We turned to find Nipper standing behind us.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him, bending down to check his splint and bandage. “Indeed, what are you doing out of bed at all, Nipper? You need to rest or you will become ill again.”

“I came to see Stardust.” He grinned. “He smelled of carrots!”

“I told you I'd check on him for you. Oh, Nipper.”

Erasmus put a hand on the boy's shoulder. “Strikes me you are a clever fellow if you managed to escape Mrs. Timms's watchful eye.”

“'Ave you found your friend, missus?” Nipper asked. “The one who was lost?”

“What's that?” Robin shook his head. “No one said anything about someone lost.”

“I'm sorry, Robin, perhaps we should have told you more…”

“The truth is,” Erasmus put in, “our friend, she is in grave danger, and we need to find her tonight. We believe she is being held captive down here somewhere.”

Nipper tugged at my sleeve. “I can 'elp you, missus. There's no one knows these tunnels better than me. I've lived down 'ere long as I can remember.”

At that moment there came shouts from the far end of the tunnel. A gruff voice was issuing orders and underlining their importance with oaths.

“Antrobus!” Robin turned to us. “We 'as to go. If 'e finds out I've brought you down 'ere I'm for it!”

“You go, Robin,” I told him. “We have to continue our search. Don't worry, I promise we won't let Mr. Antrobus catch us. Go quickly now, and take Nipper with you.”

“No!” Nipper insisted. “You'll get lost without me.”

Aloysius, as if sensing a decision needed to be made, hopped out off my shoulder and trotted purposefully away down the tunnel.

“We should follow him!” Erasmus said.

Nipper needed no further prompting and ran after the mouse.

Robin thrust the lamp into my hands. “You'll need this. Good luck, missus!” he called to me as he hurried back up the tunnel.

We made a curious search party; two adults, a child with his arm in a sling, and an increasingly grubby mouse hastening along the passageway. Aloysius turned right and then left into a much narrower tunnel and I had the sense we were descending even farther, the ceiling lowering, and water puddling upon the rough floor. Our single lamp threw an inadequate pool of light, so that we were frequently stepping in shadows, stumbling and splashing in our eagerness not to lose sight of Aloysius. The heat of the day could not penetrate this far, so that the fetid warmth of the higher tunnels was replaced with a biting coldness now. If Tegan really was being kept down here, she could not have been doing so in any comfort.

Aloysius took a turn down a singularly filthy tunnel and Nipper hesitated.

“What is it?” Erasmus asked him. “Do you know where this passage leads?”

He shook his head. “No one goes down there. It's full of dead bodies.”

“A catacomb,” I said, reminding Erasmus of the nickname for all the tunnels. “There is nothing to be afraid of, Nipper. The dead won't hurt you. They are sleeping now.” I took his hand, and we continued. We passed stone slabs set into the wall, which must have been the tombstones of those buried behind them, though I couldn't make out any inscriptions. Sometimes we found wooden coffins simply stacked one upon another.

Nipper shuddered at the sight of them, and I could feel his fear, but still he pressed on, and I marveled at the bravery a six-year-old could be capable of. At one point he stopped me and asked in a whisper, “Them's small boxes, missus. Was they for babes?”

Erasmus paused, waiting to see how I would reply. Like me, he knew that these were viscera boxes, into which the vital organs of the deceased were sometimes put when they were buried. I didn't want to raise Nipper's levels of anxiety.

“They are for things that were very precious to those who died,” I told him. “To keep them safe.”

We moved on, and were so intent on hurrying forward that we almost walked into two burly men standing at the entrance to the next tunnel. I moved to stand in front of Nipper. I saw Erasmus's hand drop to the dagger hilt in his belt.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” he said, though even in the low light it was plain to see they were anything but.

The foremost man raised his lamp and studied us.

“Well, well, well. What have we here?”

“Not your usual sewer rats,” his friend observed, pushing his cloth cap a little farther back on his head. Both men were brawny and tall, so that between them they all but blocked the tunnel. I knew at once that they had been put there to guard the entrance, and my heart quickened. If you find guards, you have also found something worth guarding.

Erasmus said calmly, “There appear to be two courses of action available to us. The first is that you tell us how much your master is paying you to bar our way, and we promise to pay you more to allow us to pass.”

The taller of the two men gave a grunt. “Carry large sums of money for your walks in the tunnels, do you?”

“No, but you would have my word…”

The other man took a step forward, so that he was almost nose to nose with Erasmus. “We don't work for promises,” he said, twitching his hand so that a heavy wooden cosh fell down his sleeve. He caught the handle and gripped the weapon tightly.

“Ah,” said Erasmus. “Regrettably, I see you have chosen the second possible course of action.” He had barely finished this statement before he struck the man in front of him. He moved with such speed and such strength that the guard was taken entirely by surprise and fell to the ground clutching his face. As the second thug lunged forward Erasmus whipped out his knife. His assailant halted, but only to take out his own fearsome blade. As the two danced around one another, the first man got to his feet and decided to direct his fury at me. He raised his cosh, intending to rain blows down upon my head. I heard Nipper shout. As a reflex, I let fly a pulse of magic. Ordinarily it would not have been enough to seriously harm anyone, but at such close quarters it had the effect of not only staying the thug's hand, but flinging him backward, sending him crashing against the tunnel wall. The scuffle had been overheard, for there came shouts from farther up the tunnel, and the sound of heavy footfalls. In seconds there were more men upon us, four or five, it was hard to say. Figures emerged from the shadows, only to be hidden by the dark seconds later. However many there were, it was clear we were horribly outnumbered, and Erasmus and I would not be able to overpower them. One bearded henchman grabbed hold of Nipper.

“Let him go!” I shouted, but could do nothing to help, as I myself was held fast by an arm around my throat and another twisting my hand painfully behind my back.

Nipper was accustomed to having to defend himself, however, and demonstrated how he came by his name by sinking his sharp little teeth into his assailant's hand. The man yelped at the pain of the bite and let the boy go.