Blue Dome (The Blue Dome Series) (26 page)

“We need to leave,
Thomas, right now. Something’s not right,” said Min, reaching for his arm and pulling
him back. They had barely taken two steps when they heard someone approaching rapidly
behind them. The passageway had suddenly darkened and a streak of green now marked
the entrance. The light drained instantly from Min’s face.

“Morana! I might have
known,” she said.

Morana smiled with thin,
sharp lips.

“Min-Isis, Thomas, so
glad you could join me.”

Thomas glared at her.
“Where have you put them?” he said.

“Put who?”

“You know exactly who we
mean. The Shards. Where are they?”

Morana shrugged and raised
her eyebrows dramatically. “I’m sorry, I really have no idea what you’re
talking about.”

“We know they’re here, we
heard their voices,” said Thomas.

Morana met his gaze. “Oh!
Those
voices! My apologies, that was actually
me
,” she said,
laughing in mock sheepishness. “Call me paranoid, but I wasn’t sure you’d
accept an invitation into a mine full of heavy tungsten if there wasn’t a very good
reason.” Her eyes swivelled away from him dismissively to focus on her glossy
red fingernails.

“Stop playing games.
Where are they?” said Min.

“You’ll have to take it
up with Demarge.” Morana glanced up abruptly, her metallic voice slicing away
any last traces of humour.

“And where’s he?” said
Min coldly.

“Demarge? Back at the
Cathedral of course.”

“Let us pass,” said
Thomas.

“I don’t think so. You
two aren’t going anywhere.” Morana returned to the business of her fingernails.

“We’ve had enough,
Morana,” said Min. “You heard Thomas, let us pass.”

“No.” Morana’s eyes
flicked up like a switchblade as she began to walk towards them.

Min held her ground. “Come
any closer and you’ll have both of us to deal with,” she said.

“Both of you? In a tungsten
mine?” Morana’s eyes narrowed and her face hardened into a cruel sneer. “
Six
of you would be no match for me in here. Of course, we could have a quick round
of ‘death-by-lightning’ for old time’s sake, but you know as well as I do that
it would take every last bit of your energy.” She glanced at her hands, turning
them this way and that in the light. “Besides, I’d rather not risk breaking a
nail over either of you.”

Min and Thomas exchanged
glances. They knew Morana was right. If they got into any sort of skirmish
they’d have no energy left to find to find the true location of the Shards.

“So are you simply going
to stand there and watch us then?” said Min.

“I will, but only for a
little while. I actually have better things to do, like kill a couple of Shards
for instance.”

“You don’t have to do
this Morana,” said Min.

Morana smiled. “No. But
I’d like to.”

Thomas quietly reached
down and felt for Min’s hand, lacing his fingers in hers. By the time Morana
realised what was happening it was too late. She was now staring at a
bluish-green ball of soft, fuzzy light. The ball hovered for a moment, before
hurling itself at the entrance.

“So, it’s a game of
tennis you want is it?” Morana flicked her fingers and a bolt of muddy-green
light snaked towards Min and Thomas. They darted sideways, the missile
ricocheting off the wall behind them. The sound of cracking rock was deafening
as the side of the passageway crashed to the floor, disintegrating into large,
misshapen chunks.

Quick, she’s going to
bring the whole place down,
thought Min.

The ball of light flew up
and double-backed on itself, circling for another attempt at the door. Before
they reach it, Morana fired a further ragged streak of light. It missed the
ball narrowly and struck the opposite wall, sheering off another huge slab of
rock. Morana stepped backwards neatly, just outside the mouth of the entrance.

“So you Aeons think you
can outsmart me? Well try outsmarting this!”

She cupped her hands and
this time unleashed a rapid volley of lightning. The bolts struck the walls in
diagonal criss-crosses, making the passageway look as if someone had thrown a
net of jagged neon over it. The stone began to groan as angry cracks tore open
the walls. Chunks of rock flew into the passageway, as Min and Thomas’s ball of
light bounced around frantically, trying to avoid being crushed. Within seconds
the only thing visible was a thick shroud of dust. The entire passageway had
collapsed under several tonnes of tungsten, burying even the slightest glow of
bluish-green. Morana stepped away from the carnage, smiling triumphantly.

“Try rescuing the Shards
now
!”
she said.

Fire raged in my lungs,
my short, hungry gulps of air simply fanning the flames. I could feel the rolls
of sweat squeezing their way down the inside of my T-shirt, squashing themselves
against my skin. Worse still, I had a bad case of stitch which was stabbing me
in the side. I tried to ignore it, but after a while it had become unbearable.

“Hey, I’ve got to stop,”
I said, puffing out each word to Calix. “I’m knackered.”

Calix stopped mid-stride
and gave me a relieved smile. “I’m glad you said it. Didn’t want to be the
wuss.”

“Wuss? Looks like you’ve
stopped too,
wuss
,” I said with mock indignation.

Calix clipped the back of
my head. “Oy, enough of that. Haven’t you heard you’re supposed to respect your
elders?”

I raised my eyebrows scornfully
and fixed her my best ‘how gullible do you think I am?’ stare.

“You’re hardly what I’d
call my ‘elder’,” I said.

“Okay, fine. I’m
definitely wiser though,” Calix retorted.

“How do you figure that
one?” I said.

“See, you’ve proved my
point!” said Calix gleefully. “A wise person would already know that!” She
laughed at the hilarity of her own joke, while I rolled my eyes.

“If you were so wise your
jokes would be a lot funnier,” I said.

“Cheeky cow,” said Calix.

I laughed, just like I
would’ve done if she’d been Bede. I felt a knot tie itself in my stomach as I
began thinking about him again, wondering for the umpteenth time where he was
and if Demarge had hurt him. I could barely allow myself to even consider the
possibility.

“Are you okay?” said
Calix, suddenly breaking into my thoughts. “You’ve gone pretty quiet.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said quickly.
“I was just thinking, that’s all.”

“Don’t think too much, it
can be dangerous to your health,” she said.

I smiled. Maybe Calix had
a point.

“Hey, back there, with
the snake, thanks,” I said.

“Yeah, whatever.” Calix
shrugged dismissively.

“No, I mean it,
seriously, that was pretty amazing what you did,” I said. “There’s no way I
would have escaped if you hadn’t been there.”

Calix blushed. “So, got
any ideas where you want to go?” she said, promptly changing the subject.

“No,” I shook my head. “Demarge
knows everywhere there is in Wiltsdown.”

“There is one place he might
not know,” said Calix. “I used to go there with
Troy
sometimes, usually after we’d shoplifted stuff and needed to hide
from the cops. It’s not exactly scenic and you need to have your wits about
you, but it may be okay.”

“It sounds like somewhere
Demarge might recruit his scouts from,” I said. Worryingly, Calix nodded.

“Now you mention it,
there are a few people down there who’d probably come in pretty handy on his
payroll.” She turned to me. “Look, it’s your call. I’ll understand if you’d
rather not risk it.”

“It’s not like we have
loads of other options, is it?” I blurted out, before realising how ungrateful
I probably sounded. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that,” I said quickly. “Your place
sounds great.”

Calix smiled. “I don’t
know what you’ve done girl, but whatever it is, I’m glad it’s you Demarge is
after and not me.” I gave her a queasy smile. “C’mon, this way,” she said,
nodding towards
Gregory Street
.

“Isn’t that where
Troy
went missing?” I asked. “What if
Stanley
’s hanging around?”

“I doubt
Stanley
knows about it. He wouldn’t be
able to fit through the doorway for a start. You’ll see what I mean when we get
there.”

We turned down a dark,
narrow side alley. There was just one lonely streetlight in the middle of it,
sputtering as if it had a bad cough.

“This place is pretty
creepy,” I said.

“Yeah, well it gets
creepier yet,” said Calix.

I gulped, silently.

We had only taken few
more steps when Calix beckoned me to follow her down another side alley that
veered off sharply to the right. This one was so dark that the blackness of it
was like oil. I paused at the entrance to the street, watching Calix’s back
disappear.

“Okay, so this is what
you mean by things getting creepier?” I said.

“Yeah, sorry about that.
If you want a hiding place though, believe me, you won’t get found here in a
hurry.”

Peering into the
darkness, I could barely see my own feet. I stepped carefully, paranoid about
falling into a pot-hole and doing my ankle in again. The street reeked of
rotten potato skins and urine and my nostrils curled in protest.

“Stinks a bit, doesn’t
it?” said Calix, her voice muffled by the sleeve she’d slapped tightly against
her face. “Ahh, there it is.”

She was now pointing to a
black iron grate set into the pavement. It looked like the type of grate that
might cover a drain, except that it was much bigger. Beneath it, a wooden door
lay flat on its back, its handle facing towards the sky.

“What is that?” I said.

“The entrance to a
storage cellar,” said Calix. “It’s really old.
Troy
used to say it went back five hundred years, but who knows? It’s
been used for a whole lot of stuff, like a prison and then an underground
bunker during the war. People have built tunnels leading off it. They run
underneath most of the city.”

“No way,” I breathed. I’d
heard all the old stories about the tunnels, growing up, but I’d never been
quite sure what to believe.

“Here, help me up with
this, it always sticks.”

I leant down to help
Calix wrench open the grate. The iron bars were thick and heavy in my hands and
the chipped paint scratched my skin.

“One, two, three…”

We heaved on Calix’s last
count, my tiny muscles popping in my arms as the grate shifted slightly. I
glanced across at Calix.

“How did you find out
about this place anyway?” I said.

“
Troy
knew about it. He’s was living on the streets for quite a long time
before I met him.”

“Is this the only
entrance to it?” I said.

“No, not by a long way.
There are so many tunnels, the entrances are all over the place. Most of them
are much easier than this one, but this is by far the most hidden.”

We concentrated on the
iron grate again, counting to three and heaving until my arms felt like there
were about to drop off. Eventually, we managed to scrape the thing far enough
onto the concrete, exposing the naked wooden door beneath. Calix tugged on the
handle, opening up a long dark chasm that stretched into the ground.

“See, this entrance has
been forgotten for so long that no one even bothers to lock it anymore. Suits
me fine.” She flashed a grinning set of white teeth.

As my eyes adjusted to
the darkness, I could just make out a narrow flight of iron stairs. The first
three steps were visible enough, but after that they disappeared into a black
oblivion.

“After you.”

I looked at her
doubtfully.

“Are you sure this is
okay?” I said.

“It’s fine, I’ve done it
loads of times before.”

I knew from her tone that
she thought I was being a complete wuss. Maybe she was right, but going
underground was freaky enough, without the stairwell looking like it had come
fresh out of a horror movie.

“Look, I’ll go first if
it makes you feel better,” said Calix, brushing past me. She stepped down into
the hole until her chin was level with the road, turning to look up at me.

“C’mon.”

Reluctantly, I started
climbing down into the stairwell. Calix had now stopped and was waiting for me.

“We’re going to have to
close the grate behind us. The last thing we need is the cops poking about,”
she said.

“Oh yeah, of course,” I
said, turning back towards the grate as if I’d remembered all along. Truth is,
I’d been so worried about getting down the stairs that I’d completely forgotten
about covering up my tracks. Life as a fugitive was definitely taking some getting
used to.

“Swap places,” said
Calix. “You’re taller than me.”

She stepped up as I
stepped down, evening out our heights. We both reached up and grabbed hold of
the grate. The screech of iron against concrete ripped through the alleyway and
for a moment I wondered if we were doing more to alert the police than if we’d
just left it alone. Finally the grate scraped back into place and we pulled the
doors closed, listening for the catch to click back into place. We were now
standing in the stairwell in total darkness. I felt Calix brush past me as she
began climbing down the stairs again, her footsteps echoing off the walls as
she descended further and further underground. I followed, inching my way down
walls with my fingertips, as the noise from my boots filled the gaps between
each of Calix’s footsteps. Suddenly Calix came to an abrupt stop.

“Where are you?” I said. My
disembodied voice echoed eerily in the darkness. I reached out to see what was
in front of me. There was a loud squeal as my fingers struck something soft.

“Oops, sorry!” I said, realising
that I’d just poked Calix in the throat.

“It’s fine,” she choked.

“I don’t suppose there’s
a light switch down here?” I asked.

“Nah, not in the
stairwell anyway,” said Calix. “They’ve rigged up a lighting system in the
tunnels themselves, but I guess it didn’t make sense to bother with the entrances.”

She turned and began
twisting something that was attached to the wall. It took me a couple of
seconds to realise that we were now standing next to a door and that the thing
Calix was fiddling with was the handle. There was a loud click and a blinding
slice of light cut around the edges of the wood. The door creaked open to
reveal a large, rectangular room. Calix stepped confidently over the threshold
while I followed, less confidently, behind her.

The first thing I noticed
was how old the place was. A musty smell of dust hung in the air, and the walls
were dotted with clusters of exposed red brick where the cement had fallen
away, making me think of islands in a cold, grey sea. To my left, silver pipes the
width of my body clung to the walls, hugging the sides before curling
mysteriously out of sight. A man with shaggy long hair was sitting on a
moth-eaten green sofa, talking to a woman who was sitting in an old, beat-up
paisley chair. The woman was bald and had a tattoo of a scorpion covering half
of her head. Both were half way through a bowl of spaghetti.

“Hey,” said Calix,
nodding in their direction.

“How’s it?” said the man
before returning to his conversation.

Calix nudged me. “So what
do you reckon?”

“It’s pretty cool,” I
said, distracted by the gas cooker that was propped against the wall to my far
right. It looked like it had some sort of makeshift extraction system made of
aluminium foil. Calix seemed to read my thoughts.

“Pretty clever that
thing,” she said. “Funnels all the steam and cooking smells out into the
alley.”

Next to the cooker, a
very battered gas heater was popping away quietly to itself and a generator
whirred constantly. I figured that was probably what was making all the lights
work. Numerous bulbs of all shapes and sizes had been scattered everywhere
around the room. In the corner directly behind the spaghetti-eaters, a naked
blue bulb dangled from the ceiling, dripping a shimmering pool of light onto
the floor. In the corner opposite, a collection of light bulbs shone from the
belly of a huge, deadly-looking white flower which had copper filaments snaking
out of it. As I looked at it more closely I could see the petals had been
shaped out of random pieces of plastic, meticulously glued or stitched
together. To the right of the flower, on the mantelpiece above a bricked-up
garret, an animal’s skull had been turned into a macabre lampshade. I shuddered,
watching the bulb glow ghoulishly through the eye sockets – there was no way I
was going to ask where that had come from. I glanced away quickly to the light
suspended from the centre of the ceiling. A single bulb hung from beneath a
large red plate that had been turned upside-down. Around the edges of the plate
dangled a series of ornaments: a small plastic, palomino horse on a silver
chain; a frond from a plastic fern; a ceramic pigeon; and a couple of sparkly
mirror-balls.

“Not bad for a bunch of
homeless people, eh?” said Calix. “All this stuff,” she pointed to the things
surrounding us, “was junk that was found out on the street, brought down here
and turned into something new.”

As I glanced around I
could see that Calix was right. It was amazing how a place that might have
otherwise been quite desolate had been completely transformed into something
actually homely. She began walking towards the door directly opposite us
glancing back at me to follow. We stepped out into a dim hallway, the naked
light bulbs hissing and fizzing like over-ripe fruit with an attitude problem,
hanging precariously from cables attached to the walls.