Word of Honour (23 page)

From all around came tiny groans, clicks, rustlings that
seemed to fall silent when they neared, only to start again
when they passed.

Side tunnels appeared, opening up at irregular intervals,
right and left. Most sloped downward and these
showed signs of flood damage. Others curved upward,
toward the surface.

All of them had bundles of cable, or chains, or pipes
running along the bottom. Sometimes they were buried,
sometimes they ran exposed along the bottom of the
tunnel. Aubrey grew used to picking across intersections
where wires or ropes criss-crossed before disappearing off
into the darkness.

Aubrey's sense of the underground world beneath the
city grew as they crossed shafts that admitted light from
grates high overhead – gas street lights, he assumed.
Pipes crossed their paths, emerging from tunnel walls
and disappearing again on the other side. These pipes
were mostly cast iron, but some were large-bore earthenware
pipes and others, on closer inspection, were tarred
bundles of wires. They stepped over or crawled under
these with extreme caution.

Throbbing. As they pressed on, Aubrey thought he
could hear throbbing. No, more than hear it – he felt
it through the soles of his boots. It was as if mighty
engines were at work around them. But the sound
didn't disappear as they moved; it was with them constantly,
as much a background noise as one's own
breathing.

After half an hour of stumbling and slipping, George
stopped and cursed with unaccustomed vehemence.
When the lantern light moved and shifted, Aubrey
turned to see his friend crouching. 'Resting, George?'

George didn't answer immediately. He used his pry bar
to shift some loose earth. 'Vandal,' he growled.

'Who?' Caroline peered at where George was
working.

'Dr Tremaine or whoever it was that drove this shaft
through here. He's smashed through . . . Here.'

George handed Aubrey a shard of rock. Aubrey turned
it over and saw the incised letters. 'What is it?'

'It's marble.' George grunted, then put the pry bar
aside and used his arms to scoop earth away, ignoring
the disastrous effect this was having on his jacket. 'Latin
inscription. Tremaine has shorn off the corner of a
Roman ruin.'

A few minutes' work and George had enlarged the
hole in the wall enough for Aubrey to see the remains of
a pillar.

George leaned back and wiped his brow. 'Roman.
From when Albion was part of the empire. Nearly two
thousand years.'

'And what's it doing down here?' Aubrey asked.

'Cities are built on the remains of what went before.
I hadn't realised how literal this was, until now.' George
leaned into the hole with the lantern. 'Mosaics.' He
leaned back. 'It's collapsed, in places, but looks pretty
solid.'

'You want to explore,' Aubrey said.

'This is exciting stuff,' George said. 'We're the first to
see this place for thousands of years. We can't ignore it.'

'It does sound exciting,' Caroline said.

Aubrey had reservations, but shrugged. 'Two out of
three. Who am I to argue?'

Climbing down into the ruin was easier than Aubrey
expected. Shattered sections of pillars acted as stairs.
Some were wobbly, but plenty of handholds made the
climbing simple.

Once down, Aubrey could make out what had
happened. The ceiling was curved – not a dome, a barrel
vault. It had come crashing down, unevenly, but mostly in
one solid piece, strong enough to resist being crushed as
rubble piled around it and on top. It was a bubble, a gap
in the earth that preserved the world of two thousand
years ago.

Inside, it was a ruin – mounds of broken stone, vast
drapes of spiders' webs, collapsed pillars and broken floor
tiles. The lantern threw shadows around that swooped as
George swept his arm, surveying the space.

'This would be a high-class building, originally,
George?' Caroline asked.

'It'd need a fair bit of study to work out exactly what
it was,' George said. 'Private home? Municipal building?
You're right, though, definitely not a worker's cottage.'

Carefully, they picked their way through rubble and
cobwebs. Ahead, maybe twenty yards away, was a wall of
solid, compacted stone and earth. 'No way forward,'
Aubrey said.

'Hello. What's this?' George squatted on one knee,
right where the edge of the vault met the floor, and
inspected a slab of stone – low and about six feet long,
running parallel to the line of the vaulted ceiling.

'A bench?' Aubrey guessed.

'Don't think so. Can you lend a hand?'

Caroline took the lantern. Aubrey joined George.

'Now,' George said, 'let's see if we can shift this thing.'

'Shift it? Something that's been sitting here for two
thousand years?'

'If I'm right, it was meant to be shifted.' George
pushed, and hissed with effort.

Aubrey put his shoulder to the stone and added his
weight. 'No good.'

'Let's try the other end,' George said, wiping his hands
together.

Aubrey lost some skin from his knuckles, but the stone
did indeed slide aside. Panting, he looked down into a
narrow flight of stairs.

'Now we're onto something,' George said, beaming.

'How did you know, George?' Caroline eyed the gap
into darkness.

'Something I read. Some of these old Roman places
had secret shrines underneath.'

A small bell rang in the back of Aubrey's mind,
something he'd come across in one of Professor
Mansfield's recommended books. 'So these weren't the
ostentatious, showy sort of public shrines?'

'These were private, or only known to a small group.
Not official, you see. These people were worshipping
something that would get them into trouble if it was
widely known.'

'They used them for magic, too,' Aubrey said.

'Outlawed magic.'

'I hadn't heard that,' George said, 'but it would make
sense. Fortune-telling, divination, magic like that went
hand-in-hand with some of this sort of worship.'

The possibility of discovering traces of ancient magic
removed any doubts Aubrey had about this side expedition. '
Well, I can see that you're eager to inspect this shrine,
George. I suppose we can spare the time.'

'You're awfully keen, all of a sudden,' Caroline said.

'Just being accommodating.'

'That's why I'm suspicious. What about being careful?'

'Ah. Yes. George?'

'Looks sound enough. If it hasn't fallen down in two
thousand years, I don't think it's about to collapse on
us now.'

'You mentioned magic, Aubrey,' Caroline said. 'Any
danger there?'

'Let me see.'

Aubrey stood for a moment and extended his magical
awareness.

It was like listening hard for faint sounds. The world
seemed to go away as he focused. Without realising it he
turned slightly from side to side, as a sunflower turns to
follow the warmth of the sun.

'Aubrey?' Caroline said.

He opened his eyes. 'There's magic down there. Weak,
a trace of a residue, I'd say.'He rubbed his hands together,
as if they had dirt on them. The magic was of a flavour
that he'd never encountered before. Rough, coarse, even,
but it held a ghost of power. In its day, it was probably
impressive. Now, all he was feeling were echoes across the
centuries.

'Is it dangerous?' Caroline asked.

'No. Probably not. Almost certainly not.'

'Hardly reassuring, that.' George lifted his pry bar.

'I hope this thing doesn't come in useful.'

Aubrey bit his tongue. If magic were involved, a pry
bar probably wouldn't be much help.

'I'll go first. Caroline, can you take the lantern and
come next? George at the rear.'

The third step was where Aubrey started to feel
uneasy.

It was a gradual thing. He shivered on step three, but he
told himself he was imagining it. Step four added to his
sense of disquiet, but he decided he needed more proof.

He took the next step down – five – and at that
moment Caroline, behind him, said, 'Oh.'

Aubrey stopped. 'You felt it too?'

'Felt what?' George asked.

'Yes,' Caroline said. 'It was like stepping into an ice
bath.'

'So I wasn't imagining it.' The chill he'd encountered
at first was now swirling around his calves, biting right
through the fabric of his trousers. The cold was ominous
enough, but it was the swirling that made him even more
alert. Something was moving down there.

'Wait a moment.'

Slowly, he stepped onto the sixth stair. The cold rose to
his knees. 'Brace yourselves,' he said. 'It's freezing down
here.'

By the time he reached the bottom, he was totally
immersed in frosty air. His breath steamed and he
shivered. Any exposed skin was nibbled by icy teeth.

Aubrey touched his cheek, then scratched it. Everything
about the place made him alert – the shadows, the
slightly dank smell, the sound of water trickling nearby –
but his caution had nothing concrete to fasten on. The
unfocused nature of the potential danger made things
worse, and he clenched his hands into sweaty fists.

The room was small – two or three yards long, half that
wide. The blocks of the walls, ceiling and floor were
roughly dressed. At the far end stood a stone table – a slab
resting on a solid base.

Caroline joined him. She'd wrapped her arms around
herself and she held the lantern close for its warmth.

'Why is it so cold?'

George tapped a wall with his pry bar. His voice was
harsh, strained. 'So this is our hidden shrine. Any clues,
Aubrey?'

'Don't move for a moment. I must think.'

Hostility. Aubrey could feel it oozing from the walls. It
was similar to the concentrated emotion spells perfected
by Caroline's father, but cruder. He wondered, briefly, if
Professor Hepworth had gone back to Roman roots for
inspiration for his particular branch of inquiry.

The stone table shook.

Aubrey shuffled back a few steps. He felt Caroline's
hand on his shoulder, then George's reassuring bulk on
his left. His heart threatened to crack a rib with its
pounding.

'We're intruders,' he said through a throat that was
suddenly hoarse. He opened and closed his fists, realising
they were aching from being clenched so hard.

'Intruders?' Caroline breathed. He glanced to see that
she was holding out her hands in front of her, as if feeling
the texture of the air.

'This is a holy place,' he said. 'A
secret
holy place.
Guardian magic, I'd expect.'

'What can you do about it?' George said.

'We can try to convince the place that we're harmless,
before it decides to use more active deterrents than just
fear and cold.'

'How do we do that?' George asked.

'Ah. I'm afraid that's as far as I've got with my
planning.'

'Keen though I am to see its full extent,' Caroline
said, 'I'm not sure if you've got time for a comprehensive
plan.'

'P'raps we should just leave?' George said.

The shadows behind the stone table moved. 'Too late,
I'm afraid.'

'Rarely good words, those,' George said.

Then, as suddenly as if a switch had been thrown, the
chamber was no longer freezing. A drift of dust trickled
from above. Aubrey glanced at the ceiling, held the
lantern up and his eyes widened as the solid stone
blocks
rippled
.

'How far are we from the stairs?' he asked.

A grinding noise, as if a tombstone were being dragged
along rock, came from behind him.

'What stairs?' George said. 'They've just disappeared.'

'The room is reshaping itself?'

'A wall moved, swallowing the stairs. It's a bit crooked
in that corner, but you'd never know they were there.'

'Careful,' Caroline said. 'The floor.'

Aubrey had felt it, too. The stone had flexed, as if
a great beast had pushed up from underneath. He
winced. There was such a thing as having too good an
imagination.

A sudden, sharp blow from under their feet sent them
staggering. 'George!' Aubrey shouted. 'Look out!'
The wall near his friend bulged menacingly, but it was
so slow and ponderous in its movement that George had
no trouble avoiding it. 'It'll have to do better than that.'
He straightened his jacket.

Caroline had ended up in the corner where the stairs
had once been. 'Careful,' Aubrey said.

She looked irritated by his unnecessary advice, then on
either side of her, the stone walls lurched inwards and
tried to trap her in the corner.

Again, the ponderousness of the movement gave
Caroline time to skip away and back off, grimacing.
'Slow. But it's getting faster.'

They came together in the middle of the room, back
to back to back, as far from the walls as possible. 'Keep the
lantern up, Caroline,' George said. 'And I'd suggest we
find a way out of here very, very quickly.'

It seemed like a time for unnecessary advice –
Aubrey's brain had been whirring at full speed for some
time. The problem was that he was facing a magical
threat and he couldn't meet it with magic. Not if he
valued his soul.

Dread and terror. Aubrey could taste them, and he
knew they were being generated by the room. They
came from inside. A pulse fluttered at the side of his neck
like a trapped butterfly. He swallowed and it was as if a
grapefruit had lodged there.

The stones of the room quivered, sequentially, a
ghostly finger running along piano keys.

It's not used to moving
, Aubrey thought. He had the
unnerving certainty that it was learning quickly.

It began with the floor. It suddenly lifted underneath
George, tilting and sending him staggering until he
met the nearest wall. Caroline, too, was thrown off
her feet. She tumbled and landed easily, bouncing on her
toes, ready for whatever came next.

The stones underneath Aubrey heaved. He fell and,
spreadeagled, found himself on top of a column that
burst from the floor and threatened to mash him
against the ceiling. He flung himself to one side,
tumbling to the floor. The column and the ceiling met
with a crash.