The Society of Dread (23 page)

‘For the Society of Dread?’

‘No,’ groaned the Dodo. ‘For the police. And we cannot rub shoulders with that rabble. I rather suspect the part the Society of Dread played in this day will be erased from history.’

Theo frowned, but he was too drained to feel any great surprise.

‘Go, Master Wickland,’ the Dodo said quietly. ‘Go and enjoy as much of the glory as you can.’

Theo looked bleak. ‘I don’t think there is any glory, actually.’

The Dodo nodded. ‘Perhaps, but you are too young to know that. Now do as I say for once. Go away and
pretend
to enjoy yourself, for heaven’s sake.’

It was the smoglodytes who found the way through. Theo stumbled on a band of young imps, little more than smoglings, in the catacombs that Lady Blessing had discovered.

Theo had set them to work, finding a way up through the tunnels until they located the dungeons that Lord Wickland had spoken of. The smogs had even found a way wide enough for Theo to crawl through, so he could be there at the official rescue in person.

The playful young smoglings snickered and smirked at Theo’s efforts as he followed the subterranean obstacle course they had pioneered
for him. Here and there, the walls were cracked and the roof had fallen in, evidence of the great
tripudon
explosion that had rocked the whole cavern.

‘Why do they make humans like that?’ a smogling asked. ‘They can’t squeeze through cracks or pour themselves down holes . . . horrible great lumbering things – how do they ever get about?’

‘Shush! This is the Candle Hand. If you annoy him he’ll pop you. Do you know he’s killed about a hundred smogs already?’

‘No!’

Theo grimaced at this banter. He recalled, not so long ago, resolving never to use his powers again to hurt anybody or anything. Now look what he had done: added another terrible chapter in the myth of the Candle Hand. He crawled on hands and knees through the ruins, coughing on the remnants of acrid smoke, pricking his hands on thorny bits of dead crelp.

‘Oh dear!’ gasped a young smog with mock concern. The dead bodies of two human guards,
Sewer Rats, lay outside the dungeon doors, crushed by rubble from the caved-in roof above.

‘Funny, isn’t it?’ the smog said. ‘The prisoner is safe in his cell, while the guards get smashed to death outside.’

‘Look at the expression on this one’s face!’ giggled another smogling, chuckling over the crushed corpse.

‘This is it,’ said Theo, regarding the dungeon door. A smogling stooped, took the keys from the belt of one of the dead figures and gave them to Theo.

‘They use these,’ the smog said, with a small frown on its turnip-shaped face. ‘I’m not sure how they work.’

But Theo had already spotted that the lock was made of golden oronium. He touched it and it melted away.

‘Whooo!’ exclaimed the smogs appreciatively. The door creaked open and Theo peered inside. Something stirred slowly in the shadows. It was Magnus. His mottled, bald head turned and his
small, squinting eyes blinked in surprise.

‘Theo,’ he said with a strange, sad smile. ‘Of course.’

The old man rose slowly, resting his weight on his two chipped and worn walking sticks. ‘There’s been quite a commotion,’ he added. ‘I take it the Wonderful Machines did not destroy us all?’

Theo tried to smile, but could not.

Magnus gave him a searching look.

‘Is he – is he gone then . . . the terrible Dr Pyre?’ Magnus asked cautiously. He spoke the word ‘terrible’ with strange emphasis – almost tenderness.

‘Gone, said Theo softly. ‘Into the candle light.’

Magnus looked thoughtful. ‘Ah.’ He followed Theo out of the dungeon. ‘So you know.’

There was a moment’s silence. Theo frowned. ‘Magnus, did you know who Dr Pyre was all along?’ he gasped.

Magnus put a gnarled old finger to his lips. ‘The Mysteries must be respected,’ he said. ‘For now, at least.’

Snuffling keenly along the cracked and rubble-strewn passages, the smoglings soon uncovered more captives. As Theo peered through the bars in the gloom he was greeted with an unexpected outburst of cheers. There, in a ruined courtyard, still locked in their cells, were Sam, Freddie and all the other slaves.

‘Theo!’ Sam cried through the bars. ‘Grandad! I knew you’d save us!’

‘About time too,’ grumbled Freddie. And everyone cheered again.

A
grinning Orpheus officer, his face grimy, his uniform burnt and ragged, ran from the main door of the Furnace.

‘Sir,’ he called to Captain Chloe Cripps. ‘I think we’ve got some good news for you!’

Chloe looked up eagerly. Frustrated in her attempts to break through the wall of flames, she had sent men down into the tunnels below the Furnace to hunt for any signs of life. Now, on the heels of the Orpheus guard, a soot-blackened mob of survivors emerged from the main door.

‘Theo!’

Chloe ran towards her friends, who all seemed to be coming out of the ruins at once. A jabbering crowd of smoglodytes sprang out of the doorway too, adding their gleeful howls to the celebration.

A bandaged, drained-looking Colonel Fairchild
limped across the broken ground to give Theo a rather shaky salute. In a hopeful voice, he posed the question in all of their minds.

‘Mission accomplished?’

Before Theo could answer, Skun sprang into view and danced around him with a crazy grin on his face.

‘We did it, didn’t we?’ Skun asked. ‘We smashed Dr Pyre and his disgusting crelp? Tell me we won!’

Theo didn’t know what to say. Magnus caught his eye.

The truth isn’t always welcome,
Theo thought.
There is a right time and a wrong time for it.
He knew that now. It wouldn’t be right to reveal that Dr Pyre had been the original Candle Man – that his desperate battle with the Philanthropist had led him to become dark, destructive and bitter against all humankind.

‘Dr Pyre won’t bother us any more,’ said Theo finally.

‘Yoo-woo-hooo!’ cried the smoglings.

‘You are the dreadest of the dread,’ said Skun with great respect.

‘I never doubted him for a minute,’ said Freddie Dove, trying to beat the ash out of the remains of his frock coat.

Theo had been glancing around anxiously. ‘Did anyone see a – a garghoul?’ he asked. ‘He was in the fortress too.’

The thought of his horned ally made Theo feel uneasy. Lord Wickland had claimed that Tristus had tried to lead the garghouls in an uprising against mankind. Could it be true? There had always been a cloud over the garghoul, a mystery of some unhappy kind. Theo wasn’t sure now if he wanted to face the creature or not.

‘The proud one has flown,’ said Skun. ‘We held up the whole cavern together and saved all these horrible polices.’ He grimaced at Colonel Fairchild and his team. ‘Then the ungrateful melch flitted away.’

‘But he was blind –’

‘Yes, I know,’ Skun interrupted. ‘But the
stubborn golamphous said that the stone would talk to him and tell him the way. The way where, I don’t know.’

Theo smiled. So the garghoul was gone. But Theo’s heart felt lighter, somehow. Tristus had played a part in saving everyone, then chosen to disappear. It was typical of the mysterious asraghoul.

Just then there was a stir among the Orpheus guards on the bridge. One of the officers posted at the entrance to the Well Chamber was crying out.

‘They’re here! They’re here!’

Some kind of rescue force was arriving. Swarming down the tunnel from the Well Chamber were dozens of men and women in blue versions of the Orpheus uniform. Smart, clean, brisk, they were a sharp contrast to the dishevelled mob that had survived the battle with the crelp.

‘Excellent,’ said Colonel Fairchild, recovering a little of his composure. He even managed a fleeting smile. ‘Lord Gold said there would be a
recovery force after the victory. They’ll help the civilians back to the surface.’

Sam nodded. ‘Best place for them.’

‘That includes you,’ Fairchild snapped at Sam.

‘We’re not civilians,’ Sam objected. ‘We’re the Society of Unrelenting Vigilance!’

Freddie grinned at Sam’s indignant red face. ‘The time for griping is over,’ he said. ‘Time to sit back and lap up the praise . . . the brave and glorious survivors! I expect I shall dine out on this adventure for years – and not on crelp moss and cave-water!’

Theo said goodbye to Sam and Magnus, who were among the first to be allowed to return to the surface, and home. He longed to go with them, but Chloe had told him that one or two Orpheus duties still remained.

Watching his friends departing across the rock bridge to the Well Chamber, Theo felt a little finger dig him in the ribs.

‘We’re leaving,’ piped up Skun. ‘Too many humans!’ He bowed to Theo. ‘I’m taking my tribe
out of here,’ he said. ‘Goodbye, great Candle Hand. We shall always be brothers now.’

Theo smiled. He liked that idea. ‘You won’t change sides again?’ Theo asked.

‘Ah well,’ said Skun. ‘It would be easy to promise that. But don’t forget what great liars we smogs are.’

Skun bowed towards Colonel Fairchild. ‘This victory was brought to you courtesy of the Society of Dread. Our dreadfulness is always at your disposal.’

He sprang away, cackling. Theo watched as the smoglodytes disappeared like little shadows into the cracks in the ground. Finally, only humans remained, and suddenly the world seemed a little drabber for it.

Down Street Headquarters was silent. The corridors were lined with the returned Orpheus forces – those that had survived. The lucky unscathed ones supported the wounded.

Theo walked slowly through the ranks.
Many heads turned to follow his progress as he passed, covered in soot, scratches and scars.

In the central hall, Lord Gold was waiting. There was a hush from the men as Theo walked up to their leader.

‘I want to hear it from your own lips, Theo,’ Lord Gold said gravely. ‘Is Dr Pyre gone? Did you see him destroyed, with your own eyes?’

Theo nodded. At first it seemed as if his voice would not come. Then he managed a quiet reply.

‘He’s gone, yes.’

Lord Gold smiled. Suddenly the room erupted with cheers of relief and cries of emotion from those who had witnessed a day of terrible deeds. Some had tears streaking their faces.

‘A great day, Theo,’ Lord Gold said. ‘We did it.’

Theo nodded. ‘Yes, sir,’ he said. ‘We did.’

Everywhere the Orpheus forces were talking – some slumped in chairs, others receiving medical attention. Everyone was reliving the events of the day. Through the hubbub, Theo was amazed to
see a pristine figure in a white suit approaching. The figure acknowledged Theo with a tight little smile.

‘Lord Dove!’ Theo gasped.

The Ex-chief Benevolence of the Society of Good Works looked refreshed and resplendent. His son Freddie, still caked in the grime of the furnaces, stood happily by his side.

‘Well done, Master Wickland,’ Lord Dove said. ‘I knew the Candle Man would succeed. I showed great wisdom in sending you down there when I did. I’ve always been clever like that.’

Freddie grinned. ‘Seems like Father has turned over a new leaf,’ he said cheerfully. ‘A day of wonders all around. There might be hope for the Dove family yet.’

‘But Lord Dove!’ Theo gasped. ‘What are you doing here?’

Lord Gold appeared by Theo’s side, beaming. His Lordship was the only person wearing the black Orpheus uniform who was not exhausted and filthy.

‘A new age, Theo,’ he said. ‘With Dr Pyre gone, and with me in charge of law and order in this city, it’s a fresh start. The police pulled in Lord Dove a short while ago. I’ve decided that he, and everyone else in the Society of Good Works who was still on the run, shall receive a full pardon.’

Theo was surprised, but he gave a tired smile. ‘That’s . . . that’s what I wanted too,’ he said, a little uncertainly. ‘A new start. No more enemies.’

‘Exactly.’ Lord Gold beamed at everyone.

‘With you in charge, Lord Commissioner,’ Lord Dove said, ‘it really will be a golden age!’

The room started to fill up with other dignitaries and police officials. Lord Gold received congratulations from them for the success of the mission. The Dodo had been right, Theo reflected. No one seemed to mention the role the Society of Dread had played at all.

Strangely, Theo rather liked it that way. He and Chloe took the first opportunity to make themselves scarce.

* * *

‘So you didn’t tell Lord Gold that Dr Pyre was really Lord Wickland?’ Magnus said to Theo that night as they all gathered around the open fire in the tiny grate at the cemetery keeper’s cottage. Sam passed around some hefty slices of homemade flapjack, burnt to a crisp around the edges.

‘No,’ Theo replied, scooting over to make room for Chloe on the lumpy old red sofa. ‘I didn’t want my ancestor to be remembered only for the shadow he became.’

‘Well, I’m glad you told
us
the whole truth,’ Chloe said.

Sam looked slightly puzzled. ‘Why didn’t you want to stay at the victory bash, Theo, and lap up the glory? You’ll be the police’s number one man now, London’s great hero!’ Sam gave a big grin, but no one else joined in.

‘It seemed wrong,’ Theo sighed. ‘Everyone talking about a golden age, when for all we know, Lord Wickland was right – there might be a bigger danger out there, a menace greater than any we’ve faced before.’

‘Ah, Theo,’ said Chloe, nursing a chipped mug of dark coffee. ‘That’s very vigilant of you.’

‘Is it?’ For the first time in hours, Theo felt a smile flicker on his face.

‘That’s what being the Candle Man is all about,’ she said. ‘Shining a light into the dark places where other people don’t want to look. They want cheers, champagne, glory and happily-ever-after –’

‘While we,’ interrupted Sam, ‘are always looking for new trouble, new menaces – and a hundred and one reasons to be miserable.’

‘Are there really a hundred and one?’ Theo asked.

‘Oh yes,’ Chloe replied with a smile. ‘In fact, I’ve got them all written down. If you’re very good I’ll let you see the whole list tomorrow.’

‘Great,’ Theo sighed, and bit bravely into one of Sam’s cakes.