The Society of Dread (3 page)

Magnus stopped and glowered down at Theo with a look that was almost frightening. ‘Because light,’ he said, ‘doth cast shadows!’

Theo gulped.

‘There is one more thing,’ Magnus said. ‘A further portent.’ They were in sight of the street now, where a large grey van was waiting for them. The old man
stopped under a great, bare, ruined old oak.

‘Yes?’

‘All is not well in the cemetery,’ Magnus said. ‘There is a disturbance in the yard.’ Magnus gestured at the great field of sloping graves and tumbledown mausoleums. The door of the nearest tomb hung slightly ajar, as if inviting morbid curiosity.

‘Bones have gone missing,’ Magnus said in a low tone. ‘Robbed out of old tombs. Graves have been found open, with no remains to be found inside.’

‘Is – is that normal?’ Theo asked feebly.

Magnus’s shrivelled lips puckered in a small smile. ‘Theo, this is a graveyard, not a library,’ he said darkly. ‘We don’t lend bones out.’

‘Room for one more?’ a haughty voice called out, as the Network Repair Team clambered into the big unmarked grey van outside Empire Hall. Sam and Magnus had boarded first, followed by a crew of engineers and security guards.

The van was ready to set off for the Monarch
Fields pumping station – the Society of Good Works’ traditional point of entry to the network.

Theo, who was ready to wave Sam and Magnus off, was surprised to see a figure he recognised, in a stylish frock coat, by the driver’s window.

‘Let me in the front with you, driver,’ he said. ‘I’m not getting in the back with all the riff-raff!’

It was Freddie Dove.

‘I’m sorry, sir,’ the driver said. ‘You’re not on the mission list.’

‘I am now,’ said Freddie, walking round to let himself into the front passenger seat.

He gave Theo a little half-bow before getting in.

‘Got to keep an eye on my interests, Theo. I hear there’s a world of wonders down there.’ He flashed a smile as he slammed the door.

Theo watched the van drive off into the London twilight.

‘That’s what I like to see,’ he said. ‘A bit of enthusiasm.’

‘Charming fellow,’ said Chloe. ‘Wonder if he’s brought his rapier?’

‘I
t’s for you, sir,’ Montmerency the butler said, calling Theo over to the telephone in the main hallway. Theo had just finished a late supper of millet broth, and had been pondering whether to go up to bed.

Maybe it will be Sam calling from the network entrance at Monarch Fields,
Theo thought.
I wonder if they’ve managed to get down the main shaft there yet?

He picked up the antique instrument, taking great care to get the mouth and earpiece the right way round.

‘I need to see you,’ Chloe said urgently. ‘Can you meet me at the gates of the cemetery, about now?’

Theo nodded.

‘I can’t hear you – are you there?’ Chloe asked suddenly.

‘Of course I’m here – I just nodded, didn’t I?’
Theo said. He heard an exasperated noise at the other end of the line.

‘Theo, it’s a phone,’ Chloe groaned. ‘I can’t see you nod your head! Are you trying to win idiot of the week?’

‘I’m not used to them yet,’ Theo said. ‘Dr Saint never let me use one.’ He tugged at the tangled wire. The main landline at Empire Hall was inconveniently located next to an immense, potted aspidistra plant.

‘And I’ve got a plant in my face,’ he added.

‘Well, I’ve got the whole of Scotland Yard in my face,’ said Chloe, ‘and half of the Home Office. You’ve turned into an issue. Finley says he’s discovered something and he needs a meeting tonight. He’s in the Condemned Cemetery right now.’

Moments later, hastily wrapped in his long black coat, with a woolly hat pulled down over his ears, Theo met Chloe at the gates of the Condemned Cemetery. The night was freezing, and Theo could see his steamy breath plume out under the gateway
lamps. Chloe was wearing her enormous navy greatcoat, with her familiar peaked cap angled low over her eyes.

‘I was dragged into headquarters today,’ Chloe said. ‘Some new bloke called Gold is in charge. Suddenly everyone at Scotland Yard is on their toes. You will not believe the hassle I’m going through. And guess what it’s all about? You! That’s why I asked you to meet me here.’

‘You know it’s past my bedtime,’ Theo said.

‘Ever the great adventurer,’ Chloe remarked.

She led Theo through the dark headstones at a pace he found rather tiring. His guardian had never allowed him much exercise, and now any kind of physical activity took its toll quickly.

They brushed through the little holly wood that bordered the cemetery keeper’s cottage. In front of the house stood the policemen they knew well – Inspector Finley and Sergeant Crane. Finley was impressive as ever in his vast beige coat, a Russian fur hat and a neatly tucked-in grey scarf. Crane cut an almost comical figure in shiny black shoes
and the ghastly suede jacket he was so fond of.

As he approached the policemen, Theo noticed they were studying him with keen interest. Finley loomed over him, ominously silent, and Theo waited anxiously, a strange sinking feeling in his stomach.

‘We know who you are,’ Finley said at last.

Theo blinked. He gulped. He opened his mouth but no words would come out.

‘Yes,’ Finley continued. ‘We’ve finally worked it out. Despite the attempts by Special Detective Cripps to hide your identity under a smokescreen of confusing and misfiled reports.’

‘Or,’ added Crane wryly, ‘by using something we in the police call “lies”.’

Theo looked at Chloe. The game was up.

‘You’re the Candle Man,’ Finley stated.

For an instant, it seemed to Theo as if every frosty tree in the graveyard was suddenly listening to their conversation.

‘Some of the villains from the Society of Good Works who we arrested recently have been
blabbing. Your name kept coming up,’ Finley explained.

‘You can melt people,’ blurted out Sergeant Crane with a strange relish.

Theo had gone white.

‘Are . . . are you going to put me in prison?’ he asked.

For a moment there was a surprised silence. Then, to his astonishment, Sergeant Crane laughed. This was followed by a kind smile from Finley.

‘Certainly not,’ Finley said.

‘You’re a hero!’ Crane added with a grin.

‘We’ve been reading the old Wickland file in Scotland Yard’s Black Museum,’ Finley continued. ‘We know that the original Candle Man worked closely with the law, especially with a certain Inspector Edward Rooke. Dark days. Most of the files don’t make pretty reading.’

Theo’s eyes lit up.

‘You’ve got files – real stories about the Candle Man?’ he gasped. ‘Can I read them?’

‘Told you,’ muttered Chloe, looking away.

‘Maybe,’ replied the inspector. ‘But we need to get one thing clear. Like your ancestor, you must use your power in cooperation with the police.’

Theo looked away from the inspector, down at his feet.

‘I – I don’t want to,’ he said quietly.

‘Don’t want to?’

Theo looked up, his eyes clear, his voice calm and decided.

‘I’ve told everyone,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to go around melting people and making enemies. I just want to help people – if I can.’

Inspector Finley looked grave. ‘The original Candle Man helped Scotland Yard,’ he said, ‘during an evil time for this city. Now, I’m afraid to say, those dark days are returning.’

‘Hold on a minute,’ Chloe said, hopping from one foot to the other, trying to keep warm. ‘Why are we having this conversation in a freezing graveyard at midnight when we could be arguing in your cosy office?’

Finley looked grave. ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘That’s just it.
You see, we might have a spot of Candle-Manning for our young friend here,’ he said. He turned to the other officer.

‘Sergeant Crane, how are our teams doing?’ he asked.

Crane exchanged swift radio messages with the police teams that were stationed elsewhere throughout the cemetery. ‘This way,’ he said.

Theo was uneasy. What did the police have in mind? Suddenly all the efforts of his day caught up with him and he felt almost faint. Chloe seemed to sense this and grabbed him by the arm.

‘I wasn’t expecting this, Theo,’ she said. ‘If you don’t like it, just say so. I’ll stand up for you.’

‘We . . . we’d better see what the inspector wants,’ said Theo.

‘We’ve got a signal!’ hissed Crane. ‘Come on!’

Now everyone was running along a narrow track. Torch beams flashed in the darkness. Crane shone his torch on a great stone casket, with a headless angel standing at one end.

‘Stop here,’ Crane ordered. They stood in a little grove about a hundred yards from the tomb. Theo could see a police officer pointing a scanning device, not unlike a metal detector, towards the foot of the grave.

‘Ground-penetrating radar,’ explained Crane with a nod.

‘What’s going on?’ Theo asked anxiously. He could feel the trap closing around him, his grim fate taking over from the quiet life he sought.

‘Bones,’
said Sergeant Crane. ‘Bones disappearing from graveyards all over London.’

‘With no sign of the graves being touched . . .
above
ground,’ added Inspector Finley.

Crane nodded. ‘Plenty of evidence of them being taken from below!’ he concluded, almost smugly.

‘Below?’ Theo couldn’t help but sound intrigued.

‘Coming in now,’ the radar man whispered.

As they all watched, spellbound, the headless angel on top of the tomb started to tremble.

‘This is it!’ said Crane, peering over the shoulder
of the radar operative. ‘This is the contact we’ve been waiting for!’

The stone angel suddenly toppled to the ground. The walls of the tomb shuddered.

‘Go, go, go!’ roared Finley.

Sergeant Crane raced to the tomb, pulling out his gun. Theo looked on, astonished, as Crane shone his torch down into the shattered grave.

‘There’s an eye! An eye down there!’ he cried out in horror.

In the darkness, Theo saw something that looked like a dark root grip Crane’s ankle. Crane yelled as he was dragged to the ground.

Suddenly the soil erupted. Chunks of rock flew outwards, cutting into Theo’s shins and bringing him gasping to his knees. Finley covered his eyes as grit hit his face.

Theo staggered up and stumbled forwards. It was hard to make out what was happening in the darkness.

‘No!’ came a pitiful cry. Crane was hanging on to the cracked edge of the tomb for dear life,
trying not to be pulled into the darkness.

‘Theo! Do something!’ Chloe shouted.

Theo tore off his gloves; already his fingers were aglow. He grabbed the long feeler that was dragging Crane downwards. It seemed to freeze for a moment, then glowed bright green. An unearthly scream rent the air as the feeler lit up, writhing and crackling, smoke streaming from it.

‘I . . . I’m free!’ shouted Crane. Finley began to pull up his comrade. Suddenly more feelers appeared, bursting from the ground and coiling everywhere, like dark snakes. Theo heard a gasp from Chloe.

By the light of his own hands, he saw her being engulfed in black tendrils. Theo reached out, his hands on fire, but a dark root snared his leg and sent him sprawling to the ground.

‘Chloe!’ cried Sergeant Crane, brandishing his gun.

‘Don’t shoot!’ roared Finley. ‘You might hit her!’

‘Theo!’ Chloe screamed as her body was dragged into the gaping darkness of the tomb.

Suddenly the ground beneath them trembled. There was a dull rumble. The walls of the tomb caved inwards, the gaping hole snapped shut.

Chloe was gone.

‘I
t’s no good,’ said Sergeant Crane. ‘We’ve lost her!’

It was past midnight in the Condemned Cemetery. A large crowd of policemen had gathered around the collapsed tomb into which Chole had vanished.

Theo stared helplessly at the ground. He sank to his knees and clawed his hands into the icy dirt. His fingers burnt with impotent green fire. The earth would not respond to his power.

‘What . . . what are we up against?’ muttered Finley, aghast. ‘What would that thing want with her?’

‘See?’ said Sergeant Crane. ‘See now why we need a Candle Man?’

All eyes looked to Theo, but he stalked off, distractedly, into the woods, his eyes scouring the
tree roots and hollows as if seeking some other opening – some way to follow Chloe.

‘There’s no way through,’ one of the technicians said, pointing his radar scanner at the tomb. ‘The ground is solid again. Whatever took her has the power to tunnel effortlessly beneath us, then cover all its traces.’

In the nearby woods, Theo stopped suddenly.

A dark shadow blocked his way.

‘There’s no other way, Theo!’ Finley was saying, back at the broken tomb. ‘This city needs its Candle Man – as it did long ago.’

There was a murmur among the officers gathered.

‘I would be down there, too, Theo – if it wasn’t for you,’ added Sergeant Crane, nursing a cut hand.

‘Theo?’

The policemen turned from the tomb and gazed around them. Their torch beams searched here and there, but found only silent trees, slanted gravestones and weathered statues.

Theo had vanished.

* * *

Theo could feel his bones rattling with cold, his eyes stream with tears as he clung on to the stony body of the winged creature that lifted him through the air. It was Tristus the garghoul, his friend.

Over the holly wood, above the ancient yew forest, and beyond the silent mausoleums they passed.

‘Here,’ Tristus said, setting Theo down just outside the back gate of the cemetery. ‘We may still be in time.’

Theo immediately recognised the place where they had landed. Before them, a circular iron hatch, surrounded by frosted weeds, glittered in the starlight. To most people it appeared to be an old sewer maintenance cover. But to Theo it was a way into the place he both loved and dreaded – the network.

‘Chloe –’ Theo began to speak as the garghoul rapped on the hatch’s central plaque,
tip-tap-tip,
commanding it to open.