Chaos Storm (The Flight of the Griffin Book 2) (22 page)

It was going to be a long trip back to the ship, reflected Tarent. A long, cold, dangerous trip made twice as bad by the presence of Bartholomew Bask. Maybe bringing him
had
been a bad idea he mused, and not for the first time, but at least it meant
The Esmerelda
would be waiting for them.

* * *

'Where are you going you stupid girl?' hissed Elisop. 'Don't take us that way! Are you trying to get us caught?' Mahra, Quint and Pardigan pulled up abruptly from their run through the teeming crowds of Bedlam's streets and turned to face the spy. Mahra glared at the dirty little man as he stood with a smug expression, partly hidden in the near darkness on his sooty face. He had stopped close to a narrow street that they hadn't even noticed on their flight towards the river and was tapping his foot impatiently. He appeared quite unaware of making any insult to Mahra as she slowly approached him, growling softly under her breath.

'This way leads us directly down to the river and the biggest bridge across,' she spat back irritably, then turned and glared at a man who had just bumped into her. After taking one look at her scowling face, the man held up his hands in apology and quickly continued on through the crowded street. Mahra turned back to Elisop. 'Well?'

'Come, come!' he waved them on, then dashed down a side ally, only to reappear a few moments later when he realised the others hadn't followed him. He stood frowning at them then took a deep breath. 'This is the main street of the city,' he began in a lecturing voice, pointing down the crowded thoroughfare that they were on. 'It will be even busier closer to the river, especially as it runs near the pit. However, this other, smaller street,' he gestured theatrically to his left, 'runs in the same direction, but will be far less busy.' Mahra glanced at Quint who shrugged and they set off with Elisop quickly pushing to the front.
'Follow me!'
he cried happily and skipped ahead. Reluctantly, they followed.

There were indeed fewer people on the new street, but it was awash with puddles and broken or missing cobbles. Closely set hovels lined either side, obviously housing some of the less affluent of Bedlam society. Few lights shone and the whole feeling was one of derelict despair. A ripe smell oozing up from the open drain that ran down the middle was almost overpowering in its intensity. Pardigan stifled a reflex to gag and quickly pulled up the edge of his cloak to cover his nose and mouth against the noxious fumes.

'When we get out of here I want to sit and clean myself for a whole week,' he heard Mahra mutter behind him, and then he groaned as his foot sank into a pile of something that squashed beneath his boot, almost making him slip into the drain. 'This is a
horrible
place!'

'
Shhhh!
' cautioned Elisop, then turned and ran on before either could retort.

'I'm beginning to take a serious dislike to that little man,' said Mahra, but both Quint and Pardigan merely shrugged.

It really was an awful part of town, none of the residents would have argued with that. Thick glutinous water ran from broken gutters, splattering onto the ground to collect in large unpleasant puddles and the sounds of scuttling rats came from the shadows and the central open drain.

As the street meandered on, they had to keep dodging obstacles, leaping from one side of the drain to the other to avoid less accommodating footing. They occasionally came upon a flickering lamp or a spluttering torch throwing a welcoming pool of light into their path, but for most of the way, they had to use their senses and the small amount of ambient light that was available to guide them. Mahra, with her heightened feline senses, could see a little more than the others were able, and was able to lead them at a slower pace through the darkest parts avoiding accident. Unfortunately, for her, she could also smell more than they could, which in this street was becoming a curse.

Curse or not, it was those senses that brought them up short as Mahra leapt forward and grabbed Elisop by the collar then held an arm out to stop Pardigan and Quint from running on.

She held onto the indignant Elisop as he struggled with one hand over his mouth, Quint and Pardigan got closer to hear her whisper. 'There are people ahead… at least two. They went into a building a little further… on the left.'

'Do you think they saw us?' whispered Pardigan peering about. 'I can't see anything!'

'They may not have seen us, but they might well have heard us. Wait here,' she said, letting go of Elisop who had finally stopped struggling.

They watched as the dark shape that was Mahra fell forward, disappearing instantly into the darkness in the shape of a grey cat.

The cobbles felt cold and wet under her paws as she made her way past the cold empty doorways. She slowed her progress as she came closer to where the two figures had disappeared and crossed to the opposite side of the street. One of the buildings was set further back from the others by about half a pace and in that shelter were two large men trying hard to stay out of sight. They hadn't heard her silent approach; it was far too dark in the alley for them to see a dark grey cat, so Mahra was able to observe them as they quietly waited. They wore the 'Bedlam black' as was normal in the city and both had matching short pleated cloaks and large floppy hats. However, the strangest thing about them was that they faced the wrong way. Their intent was obviously no good, but it wasn't her and the others that they were waiting for, but somebody coming up the street from the opposite direction.

Studying the darkness ahead, she saw shadowy shapes silently approaching, flitting from doorway to doorway. Deciding this wasn't something they wanted to be involved in, and that the way was blocked, she turned away but then slunk back into hiding as a flare of light swept back the darkness.

The two men close to Mahra had stepped out and uncovered lanterns lifting them high to throw a pool of light over four men who had been creeping silently towards them. The four threw their hands up to cover their eyes and glanced about seeking escape.

'Hold there! Give yourselves up or you die here and now without honour.' Two others dressed similarly joined them from a little further down the alley. 'Return to the pit and you will die as men! The cornered men cast fleeting looks about them saying nothing, their faces reflecting calm, almost relaxed expressions in the flickering light of the lanterns. There must have been more hunters behind them because they made no attempt to turn and flee.

Mahra looked back to where Pardigan and Quint had been and was pleased to see they had wisely found somewhere to hide. She ducked beside a doorstep to wait and see what would happen, she didn't have to wait long.

One of the hunters closest pushed his lantern out as a blinding shield and marched forward swinging a huge club in a whistling arc. From where Mahra was hiding, it was difficult to see where he was aiming, but the club didn't connect. Instead, a hand stabbed out of nowhere catching the hunter a crunching blow to the throat. He collapsed to the ground and lay in a puddle, a few feeble twitches and he stilled, dead eyes staring into the flickering lamp. A shocked silence followed this moment of violence and then a murmur of anger rose from the six remaining hunters. However, none of them seemed ready to make a similar move. They resorted to hiding behind taunts and threats instead.

'Where do yer think yer gunna go?' growled one of the attackers as he sidestepped, searching for a weakness in their victim's guard.

'We got yer, fair n square. Be sensible and come quiet like,' added another, and then he lunged forward, his sword flashing, only to receive a blow to the side of his head for his trouble. He staggered back keeping to his feet and for a short while, the alley filled with shouting, cursing and the sounds of both groups vying for position.

Mahra took the opportunity to creep a little further forward to get a closer look. Something about the four strangers was familiar, and then as she neared, it struck her, they were the same tall grey fighters she had noticed in the pit. She turned back to find the others.

'I'm sorry, Mahra, but it's not our fight.' Quint peeked round the corner to where renewed sounds of violence had just flared. 'It sounds nasty down there.'

'Well we have to get through, or go back and down the main road,' said Mahra. 'I think we should help them if we can. I can't explain, but I have a very strong feeling that we should do so.' She looked at the shadowy outlines of Quint and then Pardigan, but it wasn't either of them who spoke.

'She's right. We have to get past. The tunnel is quite a bit further down the street… part of the old drainage system…' Elisop's voice trailed off as he saw the others looking at him. 'What?

'Why would we need a tunnel? Where does this street take us?' asked Pardigan.

'The street takes us directly to the back entrance of the pit, but we don't want to go there,' said the little spy. Thunder rumbled close to the city and a flash of lightning lit the alley showing a frown of confusion on Elisop's face. 'The pit is an awful place, and it will be swarming with pitmen… nasty brutes with short capes and…'

'… big floppy hats,' finished Mahra.

'Yes, that's right! We certainly don't want to meet
them
. The tunnel will take us under the pit, right down to the bridge.'

'So we have to get past them?' confirmed Quint.

'Best we do, it's safer than the main road, and we don't want to go…'

'Come on,' muttered Quint, leading them closer to the growing sounds of fighting.

Three of the pitmen were now down. Two were silent, but the other was screaming, holding a hand to the side of his head where blood dripped through his fingers. The three that remained were losing and being forced back down the street, although they possessed the weapons, the grey men were dodging and weaving about them easily avoiding them whilst landing blow after blow on the pitmen.

'This is taking too long, I'm going to end this,' said Mahra, and before anyone could say anything, a black panther ran down the street and launched itself at the pitmen. She struck one, paws outstretched in the square of his back, sending him flying. When she landed and growled at them, the others immediately broke and fled.

The tall grey men remained eyeing her warily in the faint light from the discarded lanterns. Behind her, the others edged past and ran on down the street as Mahra resumed her human shape.

'Good luck,' she muttered, before chasing after her departing friends.

Sensing a friend in a hostile city, the tallest fighter raised a hand before following his companions and melting into the shadows.

* * *

Quint read the message again before passing the Book of Challenges to Mahra. 'There's a message from Tarent, they're out of the Bolt and heading back to the ship.' Mahra took the book, read it, and passed it over to Pardigan. It was hard to be enthusiastic when you were wet and shivering from the cold.

'So what are you going to write back? We still don't have the skulls,' said Mahra looking thoroughly fed-up as she wrapped her cloak tighter about her. A dim glow globe hovered over her, casting its feeble light on the group.

Pardigan handed the book back to Quint. 'But we know where they are… or at least we think we know where they are.' He cast an uncertain frown at Elisop. They were resting now, and the little spy was sitting with his back to the slimy curved wall of the tunnel, chattering happily to himself. Pardigan shook his head, dumbfounded. He reached up and brushed his hand against the ceiling, absently studying the closely fitting brickwork. It was soft, and bits came away, falling down on him, so he hastily ceased his exploration, the tunnel was obviously on the verge of collapse.

To enter, Elisop had led them to a heavy wooden cover in the centre of the street close to the back entrance to the pit. They had pried it up, worrying all the time that the pitmen would see them, and then clambered down a fixed wooden ladder. The wide tubular tunnel they entered had turned out to be one of the cities large crumbling drains and, unfortunately, was still very much in use. Along the base of the drain, slime, mud and sewage ran in a black gloopy stream with smaller pipes set at different levels every few paces adding their own deluge of filthy contents to the flow. When they could they had walked at the side, ducking and weaving around cascades of evil smelling liquid, but in the parts where it ran deeper they had to get in and wade up to their knees. Elisop had already been told several times what they thought of his route to the river, and none of the comments had been good. He had long since given up on the others and begun exchanging animated conversations and arguments with himself.

Pardigan crouched down and watched the current exchange with a smile on his face.

'The King must hear of this threat to the Realm immediately!' Elisop's face was set in a determined frown.

The frown turned to a look of utter dejection, 'But we're trapped in a filthy drain with a gaggle of horrid children, and they aren't being nice.' He sat bolt upright, once more the bold strong spy.

'Nevertheless, it is the children that hold the answer.'

'The answer?'

'The answer, to be sure!' He was fidgeting as his characters argued back and forth, jumping from one to the other, with sometimes a completely different personality butting in to offer a different opinion entirely.

'Well, I think you're both on the wrong track. We should kill the children and…' Elisop cast a fearful glance across to Pardigan who was still watching, intrigued by the exchange.

'Shhh, he watches!' whispered Elisop pulling his cloak about him.

The conversation continued but in whispered tones so Pardigan could no longer hear. He shivered, the drain was even colder, wetter and smellier than the street, but at least there were no pitmen. No pitmen, but there were voices, whispering voices, and they were starting to upset him.

When they had first entered the drain system they had supposed the scuffling sounds they had first heard were no more than the rats, but when they heard talking and then a light was seen, plus further on they found the remains of a small fire; they knew they weren't alone. They called out, but whoever was there was scared and obviously didn't want anyone to find them.

Now it was closer, it was the sound of singing, a single child's voice slowly repeating the same short verse.

'The sun has gone; the rain is here,

Oh, come and play with me down here.

The sun has gone; it's night all day,

Why did my mamma go away?'

The sun has gone … '

Hearing such an odd, sad song in the misery of the drain, and not seeing the singer was creepy. They began dreading when the song would start again in that high childish voice, but when they tried to catch up then the voices would still remain ahead, out of sight. After at least a turn of the glass of navigating the tunnels, they found a dry section of the drain and stopped for a rest and another chance to look at the book. There were enough bits of wood and rag to start a small, smoky fire, the only problem was chasing off the dozen or so large rats that were calling the island home and weren't too happy at being evicted, however, the sight of the biggest cat in Bedlam sent them squeaking furiously in retreat.

Quint thought for a moment before gripping his last stub of pencil and licking the end, ready to write. Leaning closer to the fire, he carefully composed his reply to Tarent.

Quint put the book away and stood up. 'Come on, let's try and get out of here.' He turned to Elisop. 'Do you actually know which way we're meant to be heading? There are several tunnels to choose from up ahead.' Pardigan rose next to him and helped Mahra to her feet, but stopped moving as the sound of childish laughter echoed through the darkness.

Elisop, already bordering on complete madness, became even more agitated at the sounds. His head swung rapidly from side to side as he tried to locate the laughter. 'Of course I know the way!' he spat. His voice filled the drain, and the laughter abruptly stopped. 'Follow me!' he cried and was off again. However, within a few steps he stopped, allowing the others to catch up with him. He was stammering incoherently and staring down at something by his feet.

'Nasty, horrible little children… nasty… na… na… nasty…' he muttered.

There, in a small stream of muddy water, was a paper boat. It was almost soaked through and in danger of sinking, yet it was still gamely riding the rapid flow as it bounced against Elisop's boot.

The laughter came again, and Mahra pushed past the quivering spy sending the glow globe a little further on.

'Hello? We won't hurt you, please come out and see us; we need help to find the right way out of here. I think we're a bit lost.' There was silence for a moment, the sound of splashing footsteps and then three small figures stepped out of the shadows, huddling protectively around the dim light of a battered lantern. The two smaller figures were pulling an older boy who seemed somewhat more reluctant to come forward. He appeared to be around ten summers, and his smaller friends probably half that. He was frowning at Mahra.

'What'cha doing down 'ere?' he challenged. 'Nobody comes down 'ere, 'cept us.' The little girl pulled loose from his hand and came running over to Mahra.

'
Nella!
' the boy made to catch her but held back as Mahra opened her arms in welcome and crouched down to the little girl.

'Hello, Nella,' said Mahra, smiling fondly. 'My name is Mahra. What are you and your friends doing down here?' The little girl looked up and smiled.

'We live 'ere,' she said softly, her Bedlam accent as thick as the slime they were standing in.

Mahra looked about at the foul wet drain and felt a wave of pity for the three children. She held her hand out towards the other two and the little boy ran over, followed, yet still quite reluctantly, by his older companion.

'If yer looking for a way out we can show yer, I s'pose,' said the older boy, still frowning.

'We need to get to the river, past the pit.'

He nodded, turned and the two smaller children followed him as he set off, pulling Mahra along with them. The others trailed along behind as Mahra tried to learn a little of the children's lives.

Apparently, there were several groups of children living below the streets, refugees and orphans from the madness of the city above who could find no better place to go.

'Do you 'ave any food?' asked Nella, looking from Mahra to the others in the group. With a sigh, Pardigan reached into his cloak and pulled out half a pie, recently the property of the palace kitchen.

'That was cooked for the Queen,' he explained, handing it to Nella. Her eyes lit up, and she took it as if she had never seen anything so wonderful, and then broke it evenly to share with her two companions. They smiled happily as they crammed the pie into their mouths, catching any crumbs in dirty hands before stuffing them firmly back in. The others watching said nothing.

When the pie was finished, even the older boy was a little friendlier. He introduced himself as Tad and said Nella was his sister.

'Don't know where our parents are, and we don't really care much neither, they weren't nice.' His face filled with sadness for a moment as he recalled some past memories, then brightened as his attention returned to the present. 'This one 'ere's called, Nipper. We found him down 'ere all on his lonesome. 'Don't talk much. He's got one song he likes to sing, and he laughs a lot, which is a whole lot better than talk when you're stuck living in a drain, eh Nipper?' Nipper laughed, which, despite the circumstances, made them all smile.

'Tad, we need to get to the Chaos temple in Mayhem and our guide here has us lost,' said Quint, ignoring the spluttering of indignation that arose from Elisop. 'Do you know what might be the best way to get there and then get in?' Tad looked at him, his eyes wide with surprise.

'You
want
to go to the temple? You mad? Most people that go there are kicking and screaming as they drag them through the doors, that's a nasty place!' As Quint still didn't appear put off by the idea, Tad thought for a moment, his face creasing in concentrated thought. Nella stepped next to Mahra and shyly took her hand.

'Well, if yer really trying to get over to Mayhem, there are two ways of getting across the river. You either use the bridge, but I doubt you lot have passes if you're down 'ere. Yer need passes to go from Mayhem over to Bedlam and the same ter get back again. The only other way is under the bridge, but it's difficult to get down there without being seen.'

'Let's worry about that when we get there, shall we?' said Mahra with a smile. 'Now, how do we get to this bridge and out of these drains?' She squeezed Nella's hand, who in turn began chatting happily with her new friends as Tad led them on.

Pardigan began to lose track of time. Was it morning already in the streets above them, or still night? He shuffled on after the others, tripping and slipping on unseen debris, tired and unhappy that he walked in darkness while Mahra had her glow globe and the children had their lantern. Quint stumbled splashing to his knees in front of him, then cursing as he rose to his feet again, crouching so his head didn't strike the low tunnel roof. They were ready to get out, even if it was only back to the streets of Bedlam once again. The small procession halted and shuffled slowly and then, with a glow globe hovering in the centre, kept carefully to the side of yet another deep well. Torrents of thick dark water was rushing down, falling from some upper level to disappear roaring down into black empty space to exit somewhere out on the river. It wasn't the first they had passed. They took it in turns to edge around while Mahra lit the way with her globe. There was a bewildering warren of twisting tunnels and countless gushing falls of water from overhead pipes to negotiate. Twice they had found the way blocked where the top of the tunnel had collapsed and had to dig their way through by squeezing through the tiny gap to make their way forward.

Finally, with great sighs of relief all round, Tad declared they had arrived close to the river and it was time to go up. He was standing at the base of a rusting ladder and eager to be in the slightly fresher air of the street, Pardigan pushed past him and volunteered to lead the way out.

He clambered up on the slippery rungs to find his way blocked at the top of the ladder by a large slab of stone. Bracing himself and praying the ladder wouldn't give way beneath him, he heaved and managed to shift the slab and slide it to the side. Cold fresh air and the spray of rain met his efforts and with a final shove he was able to squeeze past and emerge into the wet Bedlam night; it was still raining heavily. Thunder crashed overhead as he helped the others up, then Quint helped him slide the stone back into place. They stood gazing around in the darkness, trying to get some sense of where they were.

Thankfully, it appeared that they hadn't been seen as they came out as the exit to the drain was set back from the street in the shadows. It was a cold night with a fierce wind driving heavy rain in squalls down the street. Behind them, water poured from broken guttering, splattering noisily onto the mud so after a cursory glance about, Pardigan led them under the cover of a metal stairway.

'Another lovely night in Bedlam,' he muttered.

'I can hear rushing water, lots of it. The river must be close,' said Quint.

'It's over there, behind the wall,' said Tad, pointing down the lane. 'And the main street over the bridge is round the corner there.' He pointed to their right. Pardigan ran forward to the edge of the building, hearing the noise of lots of voices as soon as he got there. He blinked and became invisible and went to scout around, a few moments later he was back shaking water from his hair.

'Well, it's a bridge, the biggest one I ever saw. It must stretch two hundred spans across the river, there are even buildings on it! It's like a street that continues on over the water!'