Blue Dome (The Blue Dome Series) (28 page)

“Let him go!” she
screamed.

Demarge said nothing. He
glanced at her with a mix of curiosity and disgust, as if she was an insect
that had just flown in through the window.

Freya drew her hands
together and a ball of sparkling gold light sprung to life, hissing and
crackling like a nest of electric snakes. Before Demarge could move, she
flicked the missile from her fingertips, aiming it at his head. He glanced up,
smiled, and raised his hand like a policeman stopping traffic. The light
shattered instantly, prickling the walls with golden splinters.

“Nobody tells me what to
do,” he said.

Demarge’s eyes shifted slowly
from Freya, back to his victim pinned against the wall. He twisted his wrist
once more, forcing a startled yelp out of Daden. Freya glared at Demarge,
biting her tongue as she fought her instincts not to fire a further missile. She
hated to admit it, but Demarge had gained the upper hand. At least for the time
being.

“Good, I think you’ve
both got the message now.”

Demarge unclenched his
fist and Daden slumped to the ground, beads of waxy sweat pouring off his face.
Freya leant down, snatched him under her arm, and hauled him to his feet. There
was no time to think, she knew she had to get Daden to safety. Without stopping
to glance back at Demarge, Freya grabbed Daden’s hand and dragged him up
remaining steps of the staircase. They were moving so quickly that neither of
them noticed that Demarge wasn’t following. As they finally rounded the last
spiral and came to the final step, Freya and Daden were suddenly confronted by
a solid oak door.

“We won’t pass through
that, the wood’s too dense,” said Freya.

She quickly grabbed the
door handle and threw her weight down on it but it was locked.

“Quick, the light,” said
Daden.

A huddle of coppery sparks
glimmered from Freya’s fingertips and snaked their way into the keyhole. There
was a sharp clacking sound as the lock broke instantly. Freya slammed open the
door and leapt onto the narrow mezzanine balcony that circled the base of the dome,
high above the marble floor beneath. Had she or Daden glanced up they would
have seen the huge, imposing figures of St Bartholomew performing various
miracles, but paintings were the last things on their minds.

“We need to get out of
here and find the mine,” said Freya.

Daden paused. Something
wasn’t right.

“Where’s Demarge?” he
said uneasily.

“I don’t know, perhaps we
lost him,” said Freya, scanning the room for another door.

“Demarge isn’t someone
you just
lose
,” said Daden, laughing bitterly. It bothers me Freya, this
is all too easy.”

Freya barely seemed to
hear. She was now standing in front of a wooden panel carved with an elaborate woodland
scene. A thick handle was camouflaged among the foliage.

“This has to be the door outside,
there’s no other exit.” She began to wrench the door handle but again it was
locked.

“Freya, wait,” said
Daden.

It was too late, another flurry
of coppery sparks had already flown into the keyhole. Within seconds, gales of
wind were galloping inside the dome with a high-pitched whinny. Freya turned to
Daden.

“Come on,” she said,
stepping through the door and onto the balcony outside.

Daden peered out at the
night sky, the dark purple mist churning restlessly like a giant tide. He
stepped cautiously through the door and joined Freya, now surveying the
Wiltdown neighbourhoods sleeping peacefully below.

“The mine is over there,”
she said, pointing vaguely to the north east of the city.

“You may need a map.” A
cold, familiar voice sliced through the bruised sky.

Daden and Freya turned
slowly to see Demarge approaching from around the side of the dome. His coat
billowed in great, black plumes behind him, the emeralds at his throat gleaming
in the light.

Freya stepped backwards,
her eyes urging Daden to follow. He ignored her, determined not to let Demarge get
the better of him this time as a ball of red light blossomed in his cupped
hands. Before Demarge could take another full step towards them, Daden hurled
the missile. The red light streaked across the black sky as if someone was
gutting the night. Caught off-guard, Demarge pirouetted awkwardly. The light
slid past him, glancing off the metal railing and disintegrating into a million
fiery embers. A thin spiral of black smoke curled up from the hem of his coat
where one of the sparks had landed. His eyes flashed with fury.

“You’ll pay for that.”

Freya glared at him. “We
are
going to rescue the Shards, Demarge. There’s nothing you can do to stop us.”

Demarge smiled as if Freya
had just told him a slightly funny joke.

“How incredibly arrogant,”
he said. “Do you think can you stop me from simply killing them as well? Freya,
you are here by my
grace. Just as I will soon be in the Slipworld,
enjoying your fine hospitality.”

“That’s interesting Demarge,
but we actually have things to do,” said Freya.

Demarge took a small step
backwards. “Funnily enough, so do I.”

Suddenly, he threw his arms
skyward. A jagged bolt of lightning exploded from each of his gloved hands, the
first zigzagging its way towards the Aeons, while the second wrapped itself
around the circumference of the balcony. The dome was now wearing a ring of
neon white, with Freya and Daden caught in the middle of it. By the time they realised
what Demarge had done it was too late – the lightning struck, disintegrating
each of them into a hailstorm of red and gold light, emblazoning the
purply-black night.

Daden could sense the
fragments of himself fluttering in the wind, calling to one another. As the
currents swirled and changed direction, pieces of light collided, blending to form
larger and larger pieces. Within minutes a solitary ball of red light was pulsing
like a heartbeat in the night’s dark chest. Around him, the tremors of rain
clouds buffeted his body and he flattened himself into a disc to cut through
the wind. The horizon ahead was a thick vein of dark purple, the sky bleeding into
indigo as it rose to meet the moon.

The night’s brewing
for a storm
, Daden thought grimly. It was going to
be difficult enough carrying two dry mortals back to the Cathedral, let alone
two that had become waterlogged with rain. He quickened his pace, wishing that Freya
was flying alongside him.

The tungsten mine loomed out
of the earth ahead like a huge metal plate. As Daden approached, the atmosphere
grew eerily still, as if there was some sort of force field protecting it from
the wind. The shapes of the old miners’ huts were just visible below, the row
of roofs like a strip of corrugated iron. Remembering what Hester had said, Daden
began to descend, the disc of light slowly morphing into a starfish of arms and
legs. By the time his foot touched the ground, Daden was completely back to his
human form. He cupped his hands, the soft red glow made a make-shift torch which
illuminated a black door in the side of the rock. He recognised it instantly as
the door through which Min and Thomas must have passed, and approached it cautiously.
Even in the gloom it was clear that the door wasn’t sitting squarely on its
hinges, but hanging limply to one side. That alone was worrying.

Daden crouched and rolled
a ball of red light slowly towards the bottom of the wooden panels. It struck
the door, oozing like a tide over the black paint and squeezing itself
underneath. There was a loud metallic crack as the door heaved itself off its
hinges, shuddering heavily to the ground. A solid wall of rocks glared
defiantly at Daden. The horrible realisation struck him – Min and Thomas must
be in there somewhere, buried under hundreds of tonnes of raw tungsten.

Stepping away from the
mine, Daden hurled a ball of red light at the doorway, shielding his face as
the missile exploded against the wall and scattered chunks of sharp,
bluish-grey rock all around him. The dust was still clearing as he glanced up
to see he’d only made a small dent. At this rate it would take hours to clear
the wall. He needed to find another way into the mountain, fast.

Daden ran to the doorway
and pressed his hands against the rock. The wall was solid and cold and he
could feel the heaviness of the tungsten seep into his body. He closed his eyes
and ran his fingers across the crater of the explosion, trying to sense Min and
Thomas’s presence. Something extremely faint pulsed in his fingertips. The
signal was so faint that at first he thought he was imagining it. But the
harder he concentrated, blocking out all other noises or sensations, the clearer
the signal became. His eyes snapped open.

They’re in there, I
can feel it.

Daden began tearing at
the gaps between the rocks. Some were as wide as his wrist, while others were
barely the width of a straw. He chose one of the larger gaps and eased his hand
into it. Then he started burrowing as fast as he could. Each time his hand hit
a dead end he allowed his fingers to explore the sides of the rock, searching
for cracks or fissures, anything that whispered the possibility of another gap.
Eventually, he was able to rest his entire forearm in the nook. Concentrating
his energy into his hand, Daden willed his body to slowly melt. First his hand,
then his forearm, dissolved into a fluid stream of bright red light, forming a
soft fringe around the base of his elbow. Then that too, slowly started to
dissolve. Soon Daden’s entire arm had become a liquid rope of light, oozing
deeper and deeper into the mountain.

Min, Thomas,
he called in thought.

The red glow curled into the
dark spaces between the rocks, as the particles of raw tungsten bore down on
it. Daden’s entire body was now inside the mine and he could feel himself
growing more and more sluggish. A small voice began to chew on his fears – unless
he could find Min and Thomas quickly he would have to leave without them.

Yes, but not yet
, he snapped back. The thought of leaving them was unbearable. Daden
called again, his thoughts bounding back to him. There was no sign of the Aeons
anywhere. He called again. And again. By the sixth time. Daden knew he had to
leave immediately, or risk losing any chance to leave at all.

Yet, as he began
retracing his route, each millimetre felt to Daden as if he was betraying
everything he had even known. There was no way of telling how long it would be
before the Aeons had another chance of finding Min and Thomas. He hoped they’d
be able to forgive him.

Then, just as he was approaching
the door to the mine, Daden suddenly felt another twinge. Or, at least, thought
he had. The sensation was so faint. He paused, as a second pulse tremored
through the rock, then a third.

Min? Thomas?

Daden tried to
concentrate on the sounds, but the weight of the tungsten was blurring his
senses, as if he’d been plunged underwater. Then, very faintly, he was sure
he’d heard something – a small whisper of thought clawing its way through the
rubble. There were no words exactly, just a breath, but it was enough.

I’m here
, he called to them.

Daden felt something to
his right pulling him. In the distance, through the cracks in the rock, he
could see a very pale bluish-green glow inching its way towards him like a
creeping moss.

Daden, it’s us
, a small, weak voice whispered.

Daden felt a jolt of
elation surge through him.

Wait there. I’m coming
to get you!

Troy
yawned, one arm creeping slowly out of his sleeping bag, followed
reluctantly by the other. As he wriggled from side to side the nylon sleeping
bag worked its way down his body in folds, like a snake shedding its skin.
Calix stared at him, almost forgetting to blink.
Troy
yawned again and dabbed gingerly at his left eye. The puffy socket
was rimmed in metallic-blue. I could hear the air wheeze through
Troy
’s teeth as he recoiled in pain. He
glanced up, his eyes widening as Calix came into focus.

“C, Is that you?”

“Yes!”

Before
Troy
could say another word, Calix lurched
across and flung her arms around him. “I can’t believe it, I thought you’d been
caught!” she said, muffling the words as she buried her face in his neck.

Sitting behind them, I
could see
Troy
’s face crinkle,
first into a smile, then into a pained wince.

“Are…you okay?” I said.

Calix sat back sharply, her
eyes flitting quickly over
Troy
’s
body.

“What’s wrong? Are you
hurt? Did someone do something to you? Where are they, I’ll show them…”

“No, no, no, it’s
nothing, I’m fine,” said
Troy
quickly. He tried to sit up, before slumping promptly back down again.

“It doesn’t
look
like you’re fine,” said Calix. She slid her hands under his armpits. “Here, let
me help.”

“Thanks,” said
Troy
, propping himself against the wall.

“So what happened to
you?” asked Calix.

“A bunch of stuff, most
of it bad. Ian got away though, so at least that’s something.”
Troy
smiled wryly. “How about you?”

His eyes had a soft,
melting look about them, the way my dad used to have when he spoke to my
mother. Calix briefly told him the same story she’d told me in the park.

“Trust you to be
suspicious, C, but lucky you were. That guy’s a right nut-job,” said
Troy
.

“You should meet his boss,”
I said before I could stop myself. Calix and
Troy
looked up at me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” I
said, mortified that I’d gone and put my great stonking boot right in the
middle of their moment. I could feel my cheeks start to burn, as I made myself
a mental note not to bowl into other people’s conversations in future.

“This is Clare,” said
Calix. “Kind of ran into her on the way here. She’s not great with snakes, but
apart from that she’s all right.” She smirked at me before turning back to
Troy
. “Long story, will fill you in
later.”

Troy
shifted his eyes from Calix to me and smiled. Man, what a smile.
Between him and Thomas (the man-sized version, not the kid I went to school
with), I was in serious Tongue-Tied Land. Calix stared at me for a second
longer, smiling slyly as if she could read my mind, through and through, before
turning back to
Troy
.

“So did
Stanley
do this to you?” she said, gently
running her fingers across the scabby gouges on his face.

“Yeah, with a little help
from his friends.”
Troy
shifted
position, cradling his left side and wincing as he moved.

“So they got you in the
ribs then?” asked Calix.

“Yeah. Think they might
have broken one.”

Calix made a ‘sheeshing’
sound. “I don’t get it. What did they want from you?”

Troy
shrugged. “Dunno really. They kept asking me about Bede’s sister.
Saying that I was a friend of Bede’s so I must know where she was. I barely
know Bede, let alone his sister.”

“You just met her,” said
Calix, turning to me again.

Now I was really embarrassed.
For some reason this poor guy, who I’d only just met, had ended up getting
badly bashed because of some random connection to me and Bede. A connection
that, right up until that point, I’d had no idea about. I shook my head in
disbelief. It was all too crazy for words.

“I’m really sorry,” I
said. I still wasn’t entirely sure what I was apologising for, but it seemed
the right thing to do. “Are you a friend of Bede’s?”

“Yes and no. Like I said,
I barely know him. He’s a friend of my cousin.”

 “Your
ex
-cousin,”
Calix snorted. “So what’s this job you’re supposed to be doing?”

Troy
gave a sly smile. “Let’s just say I’m in the ‘catering business’.”

Calix looked at him suspiciously.

“You see those guys at
the barbecue?”
Troy
nodded
towards the group clustered around the burning drums. “It’s all knock-off
meat.”

“You don’t say?” said
Calix. “And here I was, thinking they’d all gone down to the local supermarket
on a day trip.”
Troy
ignored
her sarcasm.

“It’s all right though,
isn’t it?” I said, suddenly feeling sick at the thought of having just eaten
dodgy meat.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” said
Troy
. “There’s a guy at the meat works
who’s a mate of Legs. He gets us all the off-cuts and whatever else he can
nick, and swaps them for cigarettes and stuff that Legs gets on the sly from
another mate of his. Legs is kind of like a negotiator really.”

“Right, well the only
thing we need to negotiate right now is getting you to a hospital,” said Calix.

Troy
shook his head, quickly and definitively. “Nah, Calix, I got to
work.”

“Are you kidding, look at
the state of you.”

I had to admit, Calix had
a point. Great smile or not,
Troy
looked like a scarecrow whose legs might drop off at any moment.

“Anyway,” Calix
continued, “your friends have already left.”

“I’ll catch them up,”
said
Troy
.

“C’mon,
Troy
. The world of sausages doesn’t need
you tonight.”

I knew that tone by now –
Calix wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She leant down, scooped
Troy
under the arms and started to pull
him up. At least, she tried to.

After a few seconds it
was pretty clear that
Troy
wasn’t going anywhere. Calix turned to me red-faced.

“Well don’t just stand
there!” she barked.

“Oh, sorry, yeah of
course,” I said stupidly as I grabbed one of
Troy
’s arms.

“Man, you’re bossy,” he
said, winking at Calix. She returned the comment with a look that was somewhere
between a smile and a scowl.

Troy
staggered to his feet, leaning on me heavily. He was quite a bit
taller than me, and surprisingly heavy for someone who looked so skinny. I felt
my knees buckle slightly, but luckily managed to catch myself before he
noticed.

“We can get out by
following the train tracks,” said Calix. “It’s got to be easier than trying to
get out the way Clare and I came in.”

Calix and I started to
inch towards the edge of the platform with
Troy
sagging between our shoulders, staggering painfully.

“Are you going to be able
to get down okay?” said Calix.

Troy
peered down at the drop. “Yeah, should be all right” he said.

Calix jumped off the
platform, balanced herself on the rails and looked up at us.

“C’mon, I’ll catch you,”
she said.

“Don’t want to be rude C,
but you’d be knocked over trying to catch a cat, let alone me,” said
Troy
, smiling sceptically.

Calix scowled. “I’m a lot
stronger than I look, even if I’m not as tall as Clare.”

Troy
stifled his laughter while I gulped inwardly – I suspected I was
actually a lot weaker than I looked. I jumped down from the platform and waited
with Calix, bracing myself for
Troy
’s impact. He landed heavily, bowling us back against the far wall
of the tunnel.

“Youch,” he said,
wincing. Calix and I exchanged glances, silently agreeing to let
Troy
make the next move.

“Okay, I think I’m all
right,” he said eventually.

The three of us hobbled
slowly towards the arched mouth of the tunnel.

“Hey, lucky swine, how
did he end up with two women? I can’t even get one,” someone yelled as we
passed the burning drums.

“That’s because you’re a
hairy meatball with a gammy leg,” someone else shouted. Laughter erupted from
the crowd.

“Hairy meatball,”
guffawed a woman. “That’s a good one.”

We ignored them and
continued along the track. It was slow going, as
Troy
needed to stop every few steps to catch his breath. He’d gasp and
wince, clutching his ribs in pain, as Calix and I took turns to ask how he was.
After a while the words started to sound a bit hollow – it was pretty obvious
how much pain he was in. Soon, the only sound was our feet crunching on the
gravel, the wooden struts of the tracks stretching out in front of us like
rungs on a dark, ghostly ladder. I was so paranoid about tripping over a strut
that it took me a few minutes to realise that the tunnel was actually becoming
lighter.

“Hey, is that the end of
the tunnel up there?” I said, pausing to glance up.

“Where are you looking?”
said Calix.

“Up there. That greenish
light.”

Troy
followed the direction of my finger. “Yeah, I think I see it too,”
he said. “Not sure if it’s daylight though, the colour’s too strange.”

“Yeah, I see it now,”
said Calix. “Is it me or is it actually coming towards us?”

“Dunno, is it?” said
Troy
.

Peering into the gloom I
could see what Calix meant – the light definitely seemed to be getting closer. There
was also something else I’d noticed.

“Can you hear those
voices?” I whispered.

Troy
shook his head as Calix paused, concentrating.

“I think I can,” she
whispered back.

Suddenly, someone
coughed.
Troy
, Calix and I
glanced at each other. The cough was quickly followed by a loud whisper.

“Can it or they’ll
hear
us. Idiot!” The man’s voice sounded wheezy, as if he was out of breath.

Troy
’s face had suddenly become even paler. “Oh no, it can’t be,” he
said.

“Can’t be who?” said
Calix.

“Stanley and his lot.
Quick, we’ve got to hide.”

But it was too late.
Before any of us could move, the full force of the green light was bearing down
on us. A short, fat, sweaty man had his fist wrapped around the handle of a
large fluorescent torch, his face ghoulish in the light.

“So
Troy
, thought you’d come clean about Clare
after all?” He turned to the two huge men standing either side of him. They
both had robotic square heads and no necks. The one on the right was dark, with
narrow-set eyes and tufts of hair sticking out of his ears. The other one had
tight blond curls, watery blue eyes and a red bulbous nose. “I think you’ve met
my associates before but, for the benefit of your lady friends, may I introduce
Len and Morris.”

“What do you want,
Stanley
?” said
Troy
.

“Don’t play cute with me,
boy. You knew where Clare was all along.”

The mention of my name sent
a cold, clammy shiver down my back. How did this guy know who I was and what
did he want? I stared at him like a dumbfounded mullet, as large beads of sweat
gathered on his forehead and threatened to roll down his face.

“See boys, what did I
tell you? The kid’s a filthy liar.”
Stanley
turned back to
Troy
.
“You know, you’ve just proved we were too soft on you last time.”

“What do you want?” said
Calix.

“Well girlie, that’s a
good question. Let me see. First, we’d like Clare to come with us, like a good
girl. Secondly, we’d like to show your friend
Troy
here what happens when someone lies to us. And thirdly, because
you’ve now seen us, we’ll have to ask you to join our little party until we can
find a convenient point to…” He paused, ominously. “…drop you off.” Len and
Morris laughed like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.

“You’re crazy if you
think Clare and me are going anywhere with you!” Calix shouted.