The Circle Line (9 page)

Tarak Everune struggled but could not move. His eyes looked madly at the match as it moved down a couple of inches in the air. Then the flame entered one of his nostrils and he screamed.

Ferus held the match there a second, his head cocked to one side as if he were watching a scene of only mild interest. Then he allowed the match to fall out and he sighed.

‘You really have lost your presence haven't you? I almost didn't believe it. Well, secret keeper. Let's see if we can't have some of those famous secrets of yours. Tell me where the boy is. What's his path?’

Tarak swore. A new match sparked and moved to his nostril and he screamed. After a few seconds the match burned out and the scream echoed and died.

‘Okay, okay’ gasped Tarak ‘I'll tell you how to find him. There's a girl, she will find him. Follow the girl. The prophecy. The boy. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters. That's not what the secret is. Your precious King doesn't need to feel threatened. I've seen the future of their world.’

As Sam arrived, feeling the ground appear under his feet, his vision swimming into focus, he was aware of an enormous roaring sound and he felt a pressure across his chest. The noise of a huge heartbeat reverberated up from the ground, through his feet, into his stomach. TA-TAK TA-TAK. Yellow lights flashed in his eyes. As he became aware of his surroundings he realised that his face was inches from something moving very fast past him. A blur of light whipped past. The roar was deafening. Then there was a loud pop and some of the light disappeared and there was a squeal of metal. He stayed motionless, unsure of what was happening and then the rushing stopped and he looked up to see an underground train slowing on a track next to him. He looked down to see Hadan's arm across his chest. Had Hadan not been there he might very well have walked into the side of the train.

‘Thanks.’ he said, unsure what else to say.

Hadan gave a rare smile. ‘Don’t mention it.’ he said. ‘I think we want to keep you alive a bit longer yet.’

Sam turned and saw that Weewalk was smiling too. ‘This way.’ said the kobold, setting off through the dark tunnels. As they walked away down a side passage Sam saw people on the train peer at them curiously and he could hear the gasps of the people inside. They turned a corner as the train powered up again and accelerated away. Weewalk explained that the nearby line played havoc with the electrical systems of the trains, causing them to stop and cut out.

London.

Sam felt his heart leap. It would be good to return to somewhere with lots of people. London felt a world away from magic and monsters and cold deserted beaches.

It wasn't long before they came across a station. They could see the lights long before the station itself came into view. Several times they had to press themselves into recesses set in the wall to allow trains to move past.

As a train pulled into the station they jogged up a slope onto the platform. A few people were around but no-one noticed that they hadn’t simply stepped out of the last carriage. No-one even seemed to notice Weewalk's unusual appearance. It wasn't often one saw a small bearded man in a dress. But apparently London was used to the unusual and no-one stopped to bother them. Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He was with real people again. Ordinary folk in London for a day's work, tourists eager to see the sights.

Weewalk motioned them over to a set of seats.

‘We need to work out what to do.’ he said ‘We can't just chase around for ever with no direction. I don’t know how that garoul found us but you can be sure that the Riven were behind it in some way. Hadan, where shall we make for? I think it would be good to find somewhere properly safe.’

‘Well,’ said Hadan, ‘there are other lines down here. We can get just about anywhere.’ He twisted his mouth as he thought.

‘Whatever we do we should take a train. If whoever sent the garoul is following us then we'll be harder to track.’ Weewalk said hopping off the hard metal seat. ‘Besides, I think I have an idea.’

They made a strange looking trio as they sat on the train in a row facing an opposing line of commuters. Weewalk swung his legs slightly, his hairy knees showing under his yellow dress.  Sam felt a bit embarrassed but it was testament to the strangeness of people using the Underground system that no-one stared too hard. Sam tried not to catch anyone's eye. Instead he looked into the window opposite, over the shoulder of a suited, middle-aged man who had his eyes closed, his head back and his mouth open. The man's slumped position and the tilt of the window allowed Sam to see his own reflection. He gave a huge yawn to himself and realised that it was a long time since he had had any decent sleep. His eyes watered with the effort of stifling another yawn and his reflection blurred. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the reflections again. This time he studied Hadan, his handsome face looking disinterested and bored. Sam wasn't really sure how he felt about Hadan. Hadan clearly was not going to make much effort to be friends.
Perhaps he resents me joining their gang
, thought Sam.
But is that what I've done? Am I staying with them? Given what has happened so far I might be putting myself in more danger by staying with them. Or even putting them in danger by staying with me.
Sam resolved then to leave them. When they got to the line that Weewalk wanted them to take he would say goodbye and go out into the bright streets of London and not think of all this magic again. He would be sad to leave Weewalk though. He had quickly become quite fond of the little man. The train lurched to a sudden stop causing the sleeping man opposite to rock wildly from side to side with a snort. Sam turned his gaze to Weewalk's reflection and jumped. The reflection in the window was not Weewalk's at all. A ghostly pale face stared back at Sam but as quickly as he'd seen it, it disappeared and the window was blank. Sam could only see the top of Weewalk's head reflected next to his own. He looked around but could see no-one that resembled the face. Had the person been outside of the train?

He leant down to whisper in Weewalk's ear as the train began to move again. ‘I just saw something odd.’ he said, ‘A pale face looking in the window.’

Weewalk looked up at him ‘Are you sure?’

‘It was only for a moment, but pretty sure, yes. Was it a ghost?’

‘No.’ said Weewalk dropping to his feet. Turning to Hadan he said ‘Sam saw a yeren, looking into the carriage. We may have been seen. I think we’re being followed. We should change trains or take a line.’

Hadan stood and the three of them moved to the doors of the train as they pulled into a station.

Weewalk spoke quietly to Sam as they waited for the train to come to a full stop.

‘The yeren are with Ferus. Remember them from the fire at your house? They patrol the lines down here.’

The train stopped and the doors opened. They stepped onto the platform and a few other people left the train too and hurried away through archways towards the exits. The train doors closed and the train accelerated away leaving Sam, Weewalk and Hadan alone on the platform, several sheets of newspaper twisting in loops from the warm wind that blew along the tracks.

‘I don’t know which way to go’, said Weewalk ‘but I want to get away from here quickly, take a line, cover our tracks.’ He went quiet and seemed to be listening. Then he pulled out his compass and studied it for a moment.

Sam listened too, at the edge of his hearing there was a faint hum, a chime. ‘I think I can  hear a line.’ he said carefully.

‘Really?’ asked Weewalk ‘Which way?’

Sam concentrated. He had to move his head slowly to identify the sound but it was coming from the tunnel into which the train had just vanished. He pointed ‘That way, I think, but I'm not sure.’

‘It's our best bet.’ said Weewalk.

They moved along to the end of the platform, where several television monitors showed bright grey images of the station behind them. As they passed by the televisions Sam caught sight of a flash of movement in one, then it was gone again. Then there in another. Then gone. Sam turned to look back down the platform behind him. A black-cloaked figure stood at the opposite end, immobile, staring at them.

‘Uh-oh.’ he said.

Weewalk and Hadan turned and saw the figure too.

‘Run!’ said Hadan, and they ran.

‘Wrath of Pyxidis!’ cursed Hadan, as they jogged along the track ‘Why do we always run? I wish we could fight!’

‘I'd rather live.’ said Weewalk.

They felt a rumbling behind them and then heard the screeching of a train pulling into the station they had just left. It was quiet for a minute and they continued to run. Then they heard the train accelerate behind them.

‘I can't hear the line.’ said Sam, ‘It's too noisy.’

‘There's a side tunnel up ahead.’ said Hadan, looking over Weewalk's head.

Weewalk studied his compass ‘I think it's in there.’

They ducked into the tunnel just as the train thundered past. Within a moment it was gone, the lights leaving images dancing in Sam's eyes.

In the sudden silence they could all hear the steady hum echo down towards them. They quickly followed the passageway towards the sound. Sam kept nervously looking over his shoulder but it was pitch black behind them. He had no chance of seeing a figure in a black cloak. He tried not to imagine a cold hand grabbing him from behind and he quickened his pace. Then they were there. The portal lay before them. Weewalk performed his trick, small flickers of electricity sparking brightly from his fingers in the darkness. The doorway opened and they stepped through.

They arrived in what looked to be a dim cellar. A candle on a shelf gave some light and Sam could see Hessian sacks against one wall, barrels in a corner and shelves stacked with jars and pots. The warm smell of freshly baked bread filled the air.

‘Come on.’ said Weewalk, ‘Away from the line.’

He started up some stone steps towards a heavy wooden door.

‘Hello everyone.’ came a cold voice. They turned in horror. A single figure stood at the same spot at which they had just appeared themselves. Meaty hands pulled back a dark hood and the man's face came into view. Candlelight flickered in his eyes and he gave a grin. It was Ferus. He had found them.

Chapter Nine

Aleksy's mind had trickled back into his brain like tiny rivulets of water filling a glass as he had tried to throw off the mental control of the man he had come to know as ‘Grim’, the most brutal and by far the most regular of the jailers. As usual Aleksy had been the first to come round. Today he had found himself alone in his cell and when he had wandered over to the bars to call out to the people who had become his friends a few more names were missing from their roll-call.

Each time he had been able to resist Grim a little longer as though his ability to push the man away had increased over time. However, there were other jailers and Aleksy knew each of them by their mind control. Grim was the weakest and easiest to resist but he was also the cruellest. Aleksy's back was covered in scars as a result, but he refused to be broken by the jailer. If anything the beatings only made him more determined and more angry. He felt a deep hatred burning within him like a flame, always there, always hot. One day he would open the door on it and it would explode in rage. He would squeeze the jailer's throat until his eyes bulged and he begged for his life. Aleksy would offer him no mercy but first he had to break the control once and for all. He was not the only one who felt such anger towards their overseer but many had had their spirits or minds broken long ago. Aleksy knew of a few who were barely able to think for themselves any more, little more than husks waiting for Grim to fill their minds and set them to work. For them Grim's mind had become familiar, almost a comfort and they struggled to function without his presence. But a few, Middie and Worsen in particular, still had the presence of mind to look for a way out of the hell that had been imposed upon them. Down in the dark cells they always thought about a way out. However, not even the gruff Middie or the eloquent Worsen were able to achieve clarity in the way that Aleksy could. He wasn't sure how he did it but he knew he had to keep that flame of anger burning within him. He visualised it now. A steady light in a darkened room, held secret inside his chest where Grim could not touch it.

Aleksy had formed a plan. It wasn't much of a plan but his options were limited and he was desperate to escape. It would probably only get him as far as the end of the corridor at best, but he had to try. He would continue to push the boundaries that held his mind. One day he would break that bond permanently. He was sure that he would do it. He had been practising keeping his mind empty to fool the guards. He refused to be beaten. If he could just push away the grip on his mind for long enough to get close to Grim whilst pretending that he was still under control. Then when the bars were opened he could seize the jailer and force him to release them all. Grim was not a physically strong looking man, it was only the power of his mind that allowed him to hold them captive. Aleksy's time within the mines had developed his muscles in a way that he thought was never possible on the meagre rations they were given. His hands were used to holding a pick for hours at a stretch, his shoulders and biceps were bunched under his skin from continually striking the heavy rock.

He had tried and tried to resist the control and felt that he was almost there. Perhaps today would be the day. The prisoners had been able to relax for a few hours but, despite his tiredness, Aleksy felt unable to settle and paced his cell like an animal, restless and nervous. He ran his hands over his smooth head. He had shaved his head every day whilst living in London. He couldn't do that now, but at least he could finally admit that he didn't need to.

Worsen called out to him ‘Hi, Aleksy, you really must save your strength. I know how dearly you would like to get us out of here, but it just isn't possible. Concentrate on surviving, man.’

Aleksy sighed and moved to the bars, running his hands over the smooth cold metal.

‘I just can't rest. I have to get out of here. I have to see the sun. Lie on grass. Eat some proper food.’

He kicked the wooden bowl that had held the gruel on which they survived, sending it spinning across the rocky floor.

‘You can try and try to resist Grim but one day he'll beat you to death.’ growled Middie. ‘I'm surprised that he's let you go this long.’

‘He enjoys the beatings.’ said Aleksy. ‘I can sense how much he enjoys the violence. He doesn't think I'll ever beat him. It amuses him to watch me try.’

‘Well, don’t count on it that he won't get bored.’ said Worsen. ‘Somebody once escaped on his watch and Grim has been in the doghouse ever since. I'm surprised they let him live to be honest. He won't take the risk that you might confront him.'

'What?' said Aleksy. 'Someone escaped?'

'Yes,' said Worsen 'Only one lad has ever escaped. He was young. A fighter. He wouldn't be beaten.'

'Who was he? How did he escape?'

'We don't know really. He never said where he was from. But Grim hated him and punished him mercilessly. He was a young and handsome lad, and proud. Grim couldn't stand that. No matter how he punished him Grim could never break him, not inside his head. As to how he escaped? We're not sure. He was in a cell one minute, then gone the next. I remember waking up. I heard his voice, speaking quietly, and another voice coming from the same cell. I couldn't see anything but there was a weird feeling in the air. It made the hairs on my neck stand up. Then suddenly there was silence. He was gone. Disappeared. It must have been a line but who opened it and where he went, I guess we'll never know. I don't know what the Riven did but no-one has ever come through again. They must have sealed it off somehow. But it has given us hope. We're always hoping that someone will come for us. But no-one has ever come again. The lad always swore he'd have revenge on the Riven, that something he would do would bring them down. He believed it too. I hope he’s out there somewhere, causing them problems. He was a good lad, for all his pride. I can't remember his name. Hey, Middie, what was that lad's name. The young chap who escaped?'

'Hmmm,' Middie grunted. 'Hadan. His name was Hadan.'

‘So, it can be done. I will get out of here,’ said Aleksy softly, more to himself than anyone else, ‘I will get us all out and I will pull this entire place down around me as I leave.’

The flame inside him burned brighter than ever. Then he felt it, the faint touch of a presence. ‘He's coming.’ he said. But the others had already fallen silent. Aleksy steeled himself, positioning himself near the front of his cell and, focusing on the image of a flame within his chest, feeling the creep of Grim's mind, he pushed back.

By the time Grim appeared at the bars Aleksy was sweating and shaking with the effort of keeping his mind clear. He forced a grin at the jailer, barely managing to shape his face. Then suddenly he allowed his body to go rigid and allowed a little more of Grim to enter his mind. Aleksy sank within himself, hiding his own thoughts deep within his head. Not thinking thoughts, as he had practised.

Grim smiled to himself and parted the thick iron bars with a wave of his hand. Instantly Aleksy leapt for him and seized the startled man by the throat. Grim immediately began to struggle and Aleksy tightened his grip on the man's windpipe. He held the jailer between the gap in the bars so that if Grim tried to cut off his escape route and close the space then he would be crushed. Aleksy's grip was iron and the struggling stopped. Grim shut his eyes and stood motionless. Aleksy had expected the mental attack but was stunned by the force of it. Grim pushed and pushed his way into Aleksy's mind until his fingers began to release their grip.

‘Stop it or I will kill you.’ Aleksy said through gritted teeth, managing to get his fingers a little closer again. He saw fear enter Grim's eyes and finally the man gave up allowing Aleksy clarity.

With his vision now clear Aleksy felt a brief moment of triumph. But as he looked into the corridor he was startled to see another man standing there. A man in a black cloak. The black cloaked man stood silently. Aleksy's stomach clenched. He had not seen him arrive. There was no way he could defeat another. The man stared at him, immobile. Hanging his head Aleksy released Grim who fell to the floor clutching at his neck. Aleksy closed his eyes and prepared himself for death as the man at the entrance raised an arm towards him. He had failed.

Hearing a sudden noise and a startled cry Aleksy's eyes flickered open involuntarily. Grim lay in a broken heap behind him, his empty eyes fixed on a heaven that he would never see.

‘What's the point in a prison guard who cannot control the prisoners?’ said the cloaked man, his voice a smooth purr.

Aleksy stood dumbfounded. He had been certain that he was about to be killed. He still wasn't sure whether he might.

‘Follow me.’ said the cloaked man. ‘The Riven King has noticed you and wants to keep you close. You are of interest.' He turned and strode along the dark corridor. ‘From today you are no longer a miner. You are a servant.’

Stunned, Aleksy rose and followed.

‘Hey! What about the others?’ he called after the man.

‘We'll find another jailer soon enough.’

Every man and woman stared at Aleksy as he walked the corridor. Seeing Worsen, Aleksy touched his hands as he passed. ‘I'll come back for you.’ he whispered into Worsen's ear ‘I'll be back to free you. Hold on.’

Ahead the cloaked man turned his head almost imperceptibly, a small smile touching the edge of his mouth, before opening a heavy iron door with a wave of his hand and leading Aleksy up, up towards his first sight of daylight in months.

Inside of Aleksy the flame of anger burned hotter than ever. He was going to gain entrance to the palace. His next plan would be justice for all and the death of the King.

In the dimly lit cellar everything seemed to happen at once. Ferus immediately turned his attention to Sam. His arms came up and Sam felt a wall of air wash over him, ruffling his hair and clothes. Ferus flashed a look of anger over Sam's shoulder and Sam half-turned to see Weewalk on the stairs, his arms outstretched, concentration etched into his face. Meanwhile Hadan leapt towards Ferus, a large knife in his hand.

Without even looking Ferus lifted an arm in Hadan's direction and it was as though Hadan had been hit with an invisible fist. He seemed to bounce off empty air and he fell back. Ferus put his forefinger and thumb together as if he was going to pluck something from the air and the shadows in the room moved. Sam realised that he had used his presence to pull the flame away from the candle and it was now suspended in mid-air and moving towards Ferus who was gathering himself to strike, his shoulders hunching.

Seeing the danger Sam cried out in fear and alarm and felt another wave of wind rush along his outstretched arms, the material flattening against his limbs; snapping and fluttering. Ferus staggered, lost his balance and was forced to steady himself against a barrel. The flame he had been holding in mid-air vanished, plunging the room into pitch darkness. A crash came from Ferus' direction and a bark of annoyance. Sam felt a hand grab him by the shoulder and push him towards the steps. Hadan had found him in the darkness.

Sam tripped over the bottom step and landed painfully, his shins connecting with a stair. But he didn't hesitate and he was already a few steps up when the door ahead opened and he saw Weewalk's small silhouette dart through ahead of him. Hadan slammed the door behind them.

They had little time to absorb their surroundings. A huge thing that looked like an oven stood to one side and the smell of bread was stronger again. They stopped in the middle of the room and Sam noticed a dusting of flour coated the floor. Again, candles provided some light.

One of the candles bobbed ahead of them. Sam squinted into it. It was being held by a short man wearing old fashioned night clothes.

‘What the bloody hell are you doing in here?’ he shouted.

‘No time. Get away!’ said Weewalk and took off at a run almost knocking the man over. The kobold dashed to some stairs opposite, Sam and Hadan in hot pursuit. A moment later they heard the crash of the cellar door hitting the wall, not just flying open but flying off its hinges and spinning through the room.

Again the shadows in the room shifted suddenly and a bolt of flame shot past them as they made their escape.

A voice called down the stairs, fear evident in the tone.

‘What is it, pa? What's happening?’

Weewalk bolted up the stairs and up another flight and into a room containing four scared looking people, a mixture of ages.

A woman let out a scream. Weewalk didn't hesitate but ran to a window. He ignored the strangers and beckoned Sam forward. ‘Can you jump?’ he panted.

Sam looked out and down. They were on the second floor above a cobbled alley. A sign swung beneath him.

‘Thomas Farrynor of Pudding Lane, Baker.’

It looked like a long way down.

‘Not down, across.’ urged Weewalk pointing.

Sam had been so intent on looking at the height that he hadn’t noticed that the next building lay only a few feet away, the sloped roofs above were nearly touching and the window opposite was open. By way of answer he took a few steps back, took a deep breath and ran at the window, getting his foot on the windowsill in just the right place so that he cleared the gap easily and flew through the window opposite.

He landed slightly off balance and allowed himself to fall and roll to a stop. He quickly jumped up and turned to see Weewalk standing on the window ledge of the house he had just left. Weewalk readied himself to jump and Hadan gave him a shove under his bottom that sent him up and towards Sam. He landed in the window and almost toppled back before Sam managed to dart forward and get a hand on him to pull him through. Hadan followed quickly behind, landing smoothly.