The Circle Line (6 page)

‘And do you believe him? Do you believe in ghosts?’

‘Sort of.’ said Sam carefully ‘It's complicated. I mean I'm not sure but my house was pretty strange at times. Bumps and noises at night, cold patches, that sort of thing. I'm not saying it was ghosts, perhaps there's a more scientific explanation but there is, was, definitely something odd about it. These tunnels must run pretty close underneath it.’

‘Well.’ said Weewalk with a laugh ‘I promise you have nothing to fear in here. And perhaps I can shed some light on your hauntings.’

Sam had to squeeze through on his stomach. The cold empty room beyond was pitch black but a match sparked into life before him and he saw Weewalk had produced a candle which he lit quickly and raised above his head.

‘This way.’ he said, and walked through a doorway, over pale grey dust and rubble into another room. This room was just as bare as the first. There were no windows and only one other doorway. The one opposite that which they had just entered led to a passageway and then down a slope and into even greater darkness. The light of the candle could not penetrate it.

‘Sit here a minute.’ said Weewalk ‘I think we need to discuss a few things before we go any further. It's going to get a little... strange down there.’

‘It's already pretty bloody strange up here.’ said Sam ruefully. ‘Who are you? Why did you bring me here?’

‘Please sit.’ said the little man.

They sat with their backs against one wall. Sam was horribly aware of the gaping mouth of the tunnels to the side of him. Deathly cold air seemed to leak from the doorway like the breath of some malevolent phantom and he pulled his scarf more closely around his neck. Every now and then a sound seemed to echo up from the depths, indistinct clunks and ticks. Once Sam thought he heard a sad moan escape the maw of the open doorway, but it could have been his imagination. He strained his hearing but did not hear the sound again, although he felt no less comfortable to be near the door for all that.

Weewalk dripped a little wax from the candle into the well of a crumbling red housebrick and set the rest of the candle into it, placing the brick on the floor where the candle guttered and spat in the cold wind.

‘So, Sam.’ he said ‘Where shall we start? What do you know?’

‘I don’t know anything other than three men tried to kill me by burning down my house.’

‘Not men.’ said Weewalk ‘They’re no more men that I am, although the heavy looking one, Ferus, might have been one once. The other two were yeren. So, you have no idea why they wanted to kill you?’ He scratched his beard. ‘You said that you believe in ghosts?’

‘What's that got to do with anything? Why me? What do these people want? I haven't done anything wrong!’

‘Tell me. Ever sense anything strange? Been on your own at night and felt like there's been someone else there? A presence? Ever seen a misty figure walk through a wall? Glowing orbs passed your face but when you focus there's nothing there? Things moving on their own? Heard funny sounds in the darkness?’ 

‘I can hear them now.’ said Sam shooting a look at the entrance to the tunnels.

‘Can you?’ said Weewalk with a small smile, also looking at the doorway ‘Very interesting. And what do you think it is? Making those noises?’

‘Ghosts.’ said Sam softly ‘Spirits of the dead. Echoes of those who have died.’

He felt strangely keen to talk about this now. Having lived his entire life in a house which he was sure was possessed he wanted to know more, however scary it was. His grandfather had always dismissed his questions and he hadn’t felt comfortable discussing it with anyone else. This Weewalk, whoever he was, seemed to know something. Right now Sam just wanted some kind of theory that he was not completely mental. That thought stuck him suddenly. Was he even awake? It had been the most bizarre night. He had heard of grief affecting people in funny ways. Was he still in his bed at home? He surreptitiously pinched his arm not sure whether the ensuing pain was good or not.

Weewalk must have noticed for he said ‘Don’t worry, you're awake. You can pinch me if you like.’ His face softened then ‘This must all seem very strange. Okay, I'll tell you some things, but I can't guarantee that this is going to make your life any more straightforward. Perhaps I should show you something first. Something very very few people have ever seen.’

He produced a long stemmed pipe from a pocket somewhere under the grubby yellow dress.

Sam laughed and Weewalk raised an eyebrow.

‘Just wait.’ The small man lit the pipe and took a couple of deep puffs until there was a small cloud of smoke above his head. ‘Now, watch.’

Weewalk closed his eyes and seemed to go into some kind of trance. In the flickering candlelight Sam was astonished to see the smoke move in a way that was unnatural. Where the grey blue smoke should be dissipating it had become immobile and then as Sam watched, his mouth open, it began to take shape until an insubstantial figure, a ghostly torso, hovered above their heads. Sam pushed himself to his feet and began to back away, terrified, his eyes fixed on the thing before him. Weewalk opened one eye and looked at Sam from under a bushy eyebrow then he gave his head a quick shake and the smoke seemed to revert to normal as it disappeared into the cold dark air.

‘Sam, come back and sit down. You have nothing to fear.’ said Weewalk as he tapped out his pipe and put it away.

Sam stumbled and put one hand on the wall, still open-mouthed and staring at the air where the figure had disappeared. ‘What, what was that?’

‘An illusion of sorts, nothing more. Nothing that can harm you. There are places Sam, where we don’t want men to go. So, we scare them off. Here, come sit down and I'll explain.’

Sam took a deep breath and wobbled back to Weewalk and sat down again, his knees drawn up to his chest. Once his heart rate had returned to something approaching normal he gave a weak nod and the little man began to talk.

‘Your world, this place in which you live, is not the only world. There is another and it lies alongside your own. Our worlds, yours and mine, rub against each other, causing friction. This causes strange things to happen, things which people in your world do not understand and have tried, over the years, to explain without success. Ever walked into a place and it felt odd? A sudden change in temperature? A charge in the air that causes the hairs on the back of your neck to rise? That's where the worlds are close and are pressed against each other, rubbing, causing the friction. Electricity. Static. It can even cause metallic objects to move or shift.'

Sam looked up 'All the cutlery on the table moved the other day when no-one was there!'

Weewalk nodded. 'Occasionally, but only rarely, the worlds are pressed so tightly together that it is possible to cross between them. These doorways, lines we call them, are dotted around the place. Sometimes when we need to use them we have to scare men away from them so we can come and go. Because these places already feel cold and strange to many of your people it takes little effort from us, a noise here, some smoke there, to chase you off.’

Weewalk turned to face Sam and fixed him with a hard stare, ‘Sam, it is not ghosts you must fear. They are but a trick. It is those who shape the ghosts and cross the paths where the barrier between worlds is thin that you must beware. There are many lands in my world and many different peoples but one group, people from the land of Rivenrok, are coming to kill you and your kind. People have been disappearing. The Riven have been taking some and killing others. They seem to be very keen to get to you.’

Suddenly they heard a noise from the direction of the woods, where they had entered the building. The '
kerlok'
noise of a rock moving under foot. Weewalk stiffened and held his breath. Sam, seeing the fear in the little man's face, did the same. They both heard a quiet voice, coming closer, but could not hear what it said. As it neared a sense of dread settled into Sam's stomach and deepened. Weewalk put his lips to Sam's ear.

‘Come with me. These people will kill you or worse.’

Sam nodded, suddenly fearful. Everything that the little man had said had been utterly incredible but what Sam did feel sure of was that the fire had been no accident and now he could feel a palpable sense of malevolence coming from the direction of that voice. He stood as quietly as he could and snapped the candle from his makeshift stand, spilling warm wax down his fist. It began to gutter more wildly as he lifted it. He stood in the middle of the room. He looked at Weewalk and the sloping tunnel behind him. He swallowed a lump in his throat and then followed Weewalk down into the darkness.

Chapter Six

The tunnel sloped steadily down, a concrete and brick shaft into the cold earth. Blackness had enveloped them almost as soon as they had entered, pressing in around them. The flickering candle seemed to have little effect. They had been walking for several minutes before the oppressiveness of the room behind them seemed to ebb away. After a short while doorways began to appear to either side but the candlelight did not penetrate far. Sam stopped to look in one, feeling braver in the darkness than he expected thanks to Weewalk's presence. The room was almost entirely empty except for a very old looking machine in one corner and a bundle of faded newspapers and battered cardboard boxes in another. Weewalk did not wait for Sam to look and so he had to hurry to catch him up again. The little man seemed perfectly able to navigate without the light of the guttering candle that Sam carried.

As they walked into the depths of the earth, Sam became aware of a hum ahead of them. It was a sound that he couldn't quite focus upon. Unsure of the source Sam turned his head but couldn't locate it. He had a friend who lived well outside the village near one of the giant electrical pylons which towered over the surrounding fields. The noise was something like that made by the current in the cables but with a slight ring to it, like distant bells. A thousand questions flooded Sam's mind. He wasn't sure what to believe. Here in the darkness, by candlelight, walking behind this strange little man with noises swirling up from the depths of the inky blackness, Sam could almost believe the story he had been told. That there was another world. There was no doubting that the last twenty-four hours had been bizarre. He risked a whisper.

‘Where are we going?’

Weewalk whispered back over his shoulder ‘There is a line down here, one of the passageways I mentioned to another place, Dragsholm, far from here. We’ll be safer then.’

‘Are you from the other world?’ Sam asked

‘Yes,’ said Weewalk ‘I am a kobold.’

‘A what?’

‘A kobold.’ repeated Weewalk. ‘A mine kobold to be exact. My people used to work in the depths of the ground in Mu harvesting valuable minerals. Some of us have travelled to your world before, in the past. There are entrances to our world to be found deep underground and sometimes your people would hear us mining and knocking at the rock. I think we gave rise to your myths about goblins, dwarves and something called tommyknockers. As well as mine kobold there are house and water kobold. Each tribe prefers to live in different places. I'm more of an underground kind of person.’

They continued in silence for a long time as Sam tried to decide the best question to ask next. More than once he considered running back. What on earth was he doing here? Eventually the tunnel no longer sloped down but continued straight ahead.

'Nearly there.’ said Weewalk, making Sam jump at the sudden sound. Weewalk pulled out what looked like an old compass and studied it. Peering over his shoulder Sam could see that the needle was swinging wildly. They turned a corner and entered a room. A large metal door stood in front of them, slate grey paint peeling away from deep red rust. In the centre was a large lever. Reaching above him Weewalk pulled the lever sideways. The squeak of metal friction filled the air and echoed back up the tunnel making them both wince. Weewalk tugged and the door swung towards them with another squeal. They stepped through into another room. There was more machinery here. It looked to Sam like the equipment that appeared in submarines in the old war films his grandfather had sometimes watched. Weewalk moved on into a side room. The hum was more distinct here, not louder necessarily, but more noticeable. It still remained maddeningly elusive and made Sam want to rub his ears like a dog bothered by a high pitched sound. At the same time Sam felt cold breath flow onto him and the hairs on the back of his neck rose.

‘Here we are.’ said Weewalk studying the compass again and with a swing of his arm he indicated a patch of shadow in a corner that was perhaps even darker than the rest of the room. Sam held up the candle but no light entered that area. Indeed, it seemed to suck at the candlelight, drawing it in hungrily.

‘This is a door?’ asked Sam

‘Precisely,’ said Weewalk ‘Unfocus your eyes, what do you see?’

Sam allowed his vision to blur, and jumped as something pale floated past his nose. He looked around him, but there was nothing there. Blurring his eyes again Sam realised he could see several small orbs floating around the space where Weewalk had indicated, like dust motes catching the light. They seemed to be drawn to a particular patch of wall, and floated in and through it.

‘Now,’ said Weewalk ‘you see it, right?’

‘Yes, I think so.’ said Sam.

Weewalk began to move his hands. ‘Then step back a moment.’ he said turning to the area with the orbs.

Sam took several cautious steps backwards to lean against a dusty wall, and then he thought of spiders and stepped forwards again, his hand anxiously brushing his hair, trying to look relaxed.

Weewalk tensed. His arms ahead of him, palms outstretched. He looked as though he were lifting a great weight. His arms began to shake with the effort and his shoulders hunched though Sam could see no visible sign that he was holding anything. A sudden breeze entered the room buffeting Sam's face. He felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck again. The candle guttered and died, plunging the room into darkness. Sam immediately had the impression that someone or something else was with them and he struggled to hold his nerve. He might have run if he could have been able to see anything but the darkness was absolute. Then there was a tiny blue flash and Sam had a sudden strobe-light split-second vision of the room. Weewalk stood before a round and black hole in the wall. The lightning had seemed to flash on his fingers. He was still hunched over with the effort. Then the room was black again.

Weewalk gave a heavy breath. ‘Right,’ he said, ‘It's open. Ready to take your first line? Move towards my voice.’

Sam slid his feet forward, arms outstretched until he felt his fingertips touch something.

‘Good, that's me.’ came Weewalk's voice. ‘Now, on you go. This is going to feel weird, but don’t worry you're safe and I'll be right behind you.’

Sam felt Weewalk's hands on his arm and allowed himself to be guided forwards. ‘Wait, I'm not sure about this.’ he said. Then the hand was at his back, then it was gone and Sam, arms outstretched, shuffled forwards feeling the air suddenly grow cold again. He stepped to where he thought the wall must be and then the world seemed to implode upon him.

He was deaf and blind he thought. It felt like his ears had disappeared completely and he couldn't tell whether his eyes were open or closed. One moment he felt as though he was falling, not to the floor but away from it, then the next he felt as though he was flying. He was disembodied, not part of the world, then he suddenly found gravity beginning to exert itself on him again and, without feeling any kind of impact, there was ground under his feet. He staggered forward a step unsteadily. His vision quickly returned and he found himself standing under a large tree near a wild and remote shore. The whole thing had taken moments or years. It was impossible to tell which. He stumbled against Weewalk who had appeared behind him.

'Where are we? What happened?' he shouted in panic.

'It's okay, don't worry.' said Weewalk. 'You're safe. There's nothing to worry about'.

Sam felt his body, slapping at it like he was trying to find something in a pocket, reassuring himself that his body was still there.

‘Really. It’s okay. Don't worry.' said Weewalk again.

'But, but...' Sam didn't know what else to say. He looked around feeling panicky. How would he ever get back again? He felt his legs shaking and he sat down heavily.

'It's alright. You're safe.' said Weewalk standing over him. 'Everyone finds it strange the first few times. But I'll look after you. Come on, let's get you indoors.’ He set off, his big boots leaving darker green footprints in the dewy grass. Sam hauled himself to his feet, still feeling shaky, his heart hammering in his chest, but he followed.

Weewalk headed towards a rough shack ahead of them. As they walked Sam had the time to look around him and absorb his surroundings. They had arrived on a section of deserted coastline. A few stunted trees and the shack were all that broke that horizon. The smell of salt filled the air. It was cold, the wind cut through Sam's clothes and he shivered. The light suggested that the dawn had not long arrived. The sky was overcast, a flat light grey. The crash of waves hitting the long narrow yellow sand of the beach dominated the air.

Sam took a deep breath. Despite the coldness of the air it was good to have the freshness of the salty breeze around him.

‘Hadan is waiting for us in the shack ahead’ said Weewalk, above the rhythmic roar of the waves.

‘Is he from your world too?’ asked Sam.

‘Yes, but it's probably best not to ask him about it. He doesn't have particularly fond memories of Mu and Rivenrok and he can be a little prickly about it. Don’t mind him though. It's just his way. He’s one of the good guys.’

‘Like you, you mean?’ said Sam.

‘Yes,’ Weewalk laughed ‘Like me. Don’t worry, Sam. You're safe with us.’

As they reached the shack Sam saw it was bigger than he had first thought. The absence of anything with which to compare it in the flat featureless landscape had made size difficult to judge. It was made of rough wooden planks, a stone chimney at one end billowed smoke. Weewalk thumped on the door and a voice came from within.

‘Who's there?’

‘Me’, said Weewalk and glanced at Sam as he shivered next to him, ‘With our friend.’

There was the sound of a bolt drawing back before the door opened to reveal Hadan. He glared at Sam.

‘Decided to listen to us now have you?’

‘Why’d you bolt the door?’ asked Weewalk quickly.

‘Thought I heard a ropen on the roof.’ said Hadan ‘Turned out to be a gull, but doesn't hurt to be too careful.’

Weewalk laughed ‘It's not like you to be so careful.’

Hadan simply huffed and turned away into the shack so that they could enter.

Ferus sat back in the chair watching the two slaves fight. They had started slowly at first, each man unwilling to hurt or be hurt but the incentives that had been added to the pit had soon overcome their wariness as well as their weariness. Ferus turned to the man next to him and laughed.

‘See, now they’re fighting! It's amazing what men will do when their life depends upon it.’

The man next to him merely raised an eyebrow a little higher above his hooked nose and continued to watch the bloodied men, expressionless.

A messenger jogged into the room and whispered into the man’s ear before hurrying away.

‘What is it?’ said Ferus irritably.

The man looked uncomfortable. ‘Master Ferus. I'm afraid I have some, ah, some bad news. I am sorry, but the boy escaped the fire.’

Ferus gave an angry snarl and the light in the room seemed to darken momentarily causing others to cower.

‘How did he get away? This is an embarrassment. Nobody ever lives. People will begin to think that he is the one from the prophecy. The King must not hear of this. Do you know where the boy is?’

‘Yes, master. He travels with one of the kobold. One who has some lesser presence.’

‘See if you can find him and then send one of your garoul to keep them busy, and make sure that the job gets done. I think it is time for me to collect some secrets. I need to know more about this boy.’

Ferus looked at the back of the man before him with disdain. The other patrons of the inn shifted nervously, desperate to leave but anxious not to move and draw attention to themselves. The room was silent and no-one stirred. Even the innkeeper had frozen, halfway through cleaning a tankard with a grubby cloth.

‘The mighty Tarak Everune.’ Ferus sneered as he approached the man on the stool, slumped at the bar. ‘Secret keeper and hero. Now fat, cowardly and drunk. I remember when not even the greatest of us could have tracked you down or lured you out and now here you are.’

‘Whatd'ya want Cinders?’ coughed the man, not turning to look at him ‘Use that fire magic of yours to light me a pipe or leave me be.’

The room seemed to darken and grow cold as Ferus balled his fists. Everyone else seemed to take this as a cue to leave and they all moved at once, tripping over and knocking chairs in their haste to leave. The innkeeper simply dropped to the floor and rolled under the bar. Ferus walked the last three steps to the man on the stool. Grabbing a handful of long, lank greying hair he pulled the man's head back and smashed his face into the puddle of spilled ale on the counter. The man's head bounced off the wood and he flew backwards. He landed in a heap on the floor, blinking up into Ferus' face.

Ferus wiped his hand on his black robe before bending down and cracking the man a vicious blow across the face. It was satisfying to be able to use open violence rather than the creeping around he had had to do with the boy. Here he didn't care that his arrival would be talked about.

The inside of the inn made him feel sick. It was places like these where men would plot against the Riven, to discuss rebellion. He felt dirtied by it. He struck the man again.