‘Berrin! How can you be so callous?’
The Gadge ignored Olanda’s cries. ‘I’ll be careful,’ he growled, as though Berrin had a good point.
‘But there’s an easier way. See those swords over there? They are razor-sharp, you know. You could cut her in two before you start. Then you’d know for sure when you’d eaten your half.’
‘What are you saying?’ wailed Olanda. ‘I thought you were my friend!’
‘I’m trying to get you a quick death,’ he lied, hoping the Gadge would be convinced.
He had convinced Olanda. She went white with fear. If her companion thought there was no hope, she might as well give up and accept the worst.
‘It’s a good idea, don’t you agree?’ Berrin continued.
The Gadge thought about what he had said. He turned and looked at the swords. ‘A neat cut. Gadger couldn’t complain then,’ he muttered to himself. He reached for one of the weapons.
Berrin let out a sigh of relief, but only for a moment. The first part of his crazy plan had worked, but the second part was far more dangerous.
The Gadge had the sword in his hand now. To a creature of his strength it was very light. He came towards Olanda, who backed away into the corner as far as she could.
‘You’ll be like a human, eating with a knife,’ said Berrin, ‘except you’re nothing like a human. You’re an animal, an ugly beast. You’re nothing like a real human at all.’ He crammed as much contempt into his voice as he could manage. Every word was like a slap to the Gadge’s face.
The Gadge ignored Olanda and came towards Berrin instead. ‘Speak like that and it’s you who’ll feel this sword.’
‘Go ahead,’ said Berrin, with savage disdain. ‘You might be good with your claws, but with a human’s sword you’re too clumsy.’
As he spoke, he tensed his arms and legs in readiness. Even so, the Gadge took him by surprise. With a flick of the wrist, he lashed out with the sword and Berrin ducked just in time.
It was a half-hearted effort. The Gadge was smiling, playing with him. The next swipe of that deadly blade might not be so lazy.
‘See what I mean?’ Berrin taunted him. ‘You missed.’
The Gadge took a firmer grip on the handle. This time he aimed a low, sweeping blow at Berrin’s legs. Berrin jumped just in time to avoid losing both limbs at the knee.
Instantly the Gadge came at him again. The game was over now. Berrin had deliberately driven him to such anger. He would get only one chance to make use of it.
The Gadge aimed a vicious blow straight down at Berrin, who moved just in time. The sword flashed again and only nimble reflexes saved Berrin from losing an arm.
The Gadge was swinging wildly now. This was Berrin’s last chance. The blade whistled towards his stomach with enough force to cut him in two. He fell flat to the floor, tugging the rope into the path of the sword.
Snap! The rope went limp as the blade sliced right through it. He was free!
He darted straight for the other sword and grasped it just in time to parry a savage blow from the Gadge. Such force. No Rats could hit like this. The sword flew from his hand, scuttling across the floor towards Olanda.
Instantly the Gadge was after him again, the next blow even more ferocious. Berrin threw himself to one side but couldn’t quite get his foot out of the way. He felt the strike and yelped in pain as the blade took off the tip of his shoe and stayed there, wedged into the floorboards.
The Gadge didn’t bother to yank it free. With a quick flick of his paw, he sent Berrin crashing head-first into the brick wall. The pain in his temple exploded through his entire skull, drenching his vision with sickly colours. Though his eyes remained open, he couldn’t move and the Gadge knew it.
Behind the Gadge, Berrin saw that Olanda had not given up. She was doing her best to retrieve the sword that had been knocked from Berrin’s grasp. Her hands were held by the rope, but not her feet. She strained and stretched desperately, and just as the Gadge readied his claws for a fatal slash at Berrin, she managed to hook it with her foot. A skilful flick and she had tossed it into the air. Though her wrists were tightly bound, she forced her hands open and caught the handle as it fell.
But the Gadge had heard the commotion. He turned just as Olanda reached out and slashed through the rope that bound her. Moving quickly, the Gadge caught the rope’s end before Olanda could pull it free of the ring. She came at him desperately and he let her come. Then, with a grin of triumph, he tugged hard on the rope. Olanda was pulled off her feet in mid-stride and hauled up, hands first, to the ring above her head. Despite the vicious jerks, she had not let go of the sword.
The Gadge didn’t care. He could afford to relax again now. Berrin was stunned and immobile for the moment, and as long as he held on to that rope the girl couldn’t hurt him with her sword.
‘I’m going to do what Gadger Red suggested,’ he growled menacingly. ‘I’m going to eat you slowly. First your toes, then a foot and on up your legs.’ He licked his front teeth with a wet tongue.
Berrin could do no more than watch as his friend struggled. If she could only free her arms! When the Gadge reached over and took hold of her flailing legs, she tugged even harder.
‘Scream all you like,’ he said as he opened his jaws wide.
Across the room, Berrin’s head swam. He could feel his arms and legs again now. He looked up, wondering if they would move when he urged them to. Then he heard Olanda’s final defiant cries as she struggled to strike at the Gadge with her sword.
Sword. Wasn’t the other sword nearby? He managed to sit up, and there it was, wedged into the wooden floor. Stifling a groan as he felt the pain in his foot, he took hold of the handle and worked it free. At least he knew now that his muscles still worked. There was no time to worry about how well they would serve him. He raised himself painfully onto his knees and launched the sword with all his might towards the Gadge. He watched it in flight … then cried out in despair when he realised it was sailing wide.
In the next instant, he heard three sounds. The first was a taut snapping noise, the second a desperate grunt of effort and the third a terrible tearing of flesh.
He could barely believe what he saw along with these sounds. His sword missed the Gadge, yes, but instead it severed the rope the Gadge held so tightly. Straining, struggling against that same rope, Olanda’s hands suddenly shot down and forward, hands that still held her sword. Her eyes had been closed in terror. She had not aimed the blow, but it was deadly all the same. That razor-sharp blade sliced clean through the Gadge’s throat.
The beast was dead before he hit the floor.
FOURTEEN
Buildings Made of Glass
‘THAT WAS A FANTASTIC throw!’ Olanda sighed in awe. ‘I don’t think I could have cut the rope like that, with just one shot.’
Berrin considered telling her the truth. Then he changed his mind. ‘Thanks. I’ll teach you how one day,’ he said as he retrieved his sword.
Olanda had to wipe the blood from hers before she slipped it into place on her back. This wasn’t the only blood on show. ‘Look at your foot,’ she exclaimed to Berrin.
He knew he had been wounded, but he couldn’t bear to look. ‘Tell me how bad it is, would you? How many toes are missing?’
He turned away while she investigated. He heard her take in a sharp breath.
‘Tell me,’ he urged.
‘How many toes did you have before?’
‘Five, of course,’ he answered hotly.
‘Well, you’ve still got five, but some of them are a bit shorter now.’
Berrin found the courage to inspect his foot anyway. The end of his shoe had been neatly sliced away. So had the last few millimetres of his two longest toes. A red stain leaked onto the floorboards wherever he rested his foot.
But there was no time to bandage his wounds.
‘Quickly! Gadger Red will know you’ve tricked him by now. We’d better get out of here,’ said Olanda, pulling Berrin to
his feet.
‘Yes, but not without this,’ he answered. He stooped to pick up the map. While Olanda waited impatiently, he opened it and stared again at the enormous buildings dotted across it, with so many red lines radiating out from each one.
‘Let’s go.’
‘All right, all right,’ said Berrin as he folded the map until it would fit inside his shirt.
Fortunately there were no Gadges in the corridor or the stairwell as they hurried down to the street. When they opened the door just a few centimetres, they were startled by daylight.
Again, there was no-one to stop them, but Olanda felt exposed in the early morning sunshine. She pointed to a bridge they could see in the distance. ‘There might be a pipe under there,’ she said, heading quickly towards it.
She turned around to find that Berrin hadn’t followed. ‘Come on!’ she hissed.
‘No. I want to look inside one of those huge buildings. There’s one not far from here. I saw it on the map.’
‘Are you crazy? The Gadges will be after us any minute. They’ll spot us easily in daylight.’
‘Remember what Ferdinand said? We have to take risks.’
‘I’ve nearly been eaten once already today. I don’t want to make it twice.’
He ignored her and started up the street, keeping to the shadows where he could. He heard Olanda sigh and saw her look longingly towards the bridge. Then she turned to follow him.
She didn’t notice, and neither did Berrin, but every step he took marked their route with his blood.
THEY FOUND NARROW ALLEYWAYS that helped them stay off the main streets. In one tiny lane, they came level with a window. Berrin dropped instantly to the ground. But when they dared peek over the windowsill they saw something they had never seen before.
‘Grown-ups!’ Olanda whispered.
Some were working at desks. Others carried boxes. One man was even high on a ladder. They seemed no more than larger versions of the children from the dorms. But these people worked slowly, with few words, a lifeless expression making their faces seem dull and inhuman.
Berrin and Olanda moved on. After three more blocks, the old decaying buildings came to an end. Here was what they had come for. A strange-looking building, just what Ferdinand had asked them to find.
‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ Olanda breathed. ‘What’s it made of?’
‘Glass, I think.’
‘Then why can’t we see inside it?’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps the glass has been made that way, all frosty, like ice.’
There were no guards in sight. Berrin and Olanda ran to the glass wall and crouched down. ‘What’s that noise?’ Olanda asked immediately.
A dull drone surrounded them. Berrin put his hand against the glass and felt the faint vibration. ‘It’s coming from up on the roof, I think.’
A narrow ladder was attached to the glass wall. Berrin started towards it and felt the blood drain from his face. He’d rather face another Gadge than climb that high.
Olanda saw his whitening face. ‘I’ll go,’ she said with mild disgust. ‘You see if you can get inside.’
This proved easier than he could have hoped. There was a door only twenty paces away. He took a breath, counted to three and opened it. He was barely inside before a voice said, ‘Please be sure to close the door behind you.’
He looked around but found no-one. Meanwhile, he had closed the door as instructed. ‘Thank you for closing the door,’ said the same voice. This time he traced the voice to a small black box hanging on the wall. He relaxed a little and at last felt secure enough to take a look around him.
Flowers. Thousands of flowers, hundreds of thousands. There was another word, for a bigger number still. The Dfx had muttered it occasionally. A million.
All the flowers were the same, all the palest purple. As far as he could see, the glass building was filled with row after row of identical plants with their purple blooms.
He could smell them. In fact, he couldn’t avoid it, closed in with so many. It was a sweet, friendly smell, he decided, a little cloying in his nose, but he liked it.
A shadow fell across his face for a moment. Looking up, he could make out the dark shape of Olanda scampering about on the roof. He could also see outlets in the glass, but they didn’t lead directly into the open. There were solid shapes above them and that was where the droning noise was coming from.
He would leave that mystery to Olanda. Yes, to Olanda, he repeated. Then for a moment he couldn’t quite remember Olanda’s face. Actually, he wasn’t sure who Olanda was, and then her name seemed to float away from him into a mist. He didn’t want it to go but he couldn’t stop it.
This was strange. His limbs seemed a little heavy but he wasn’t drowsy. What had he come here for? He couldn’t remember. He didn’t care much either. It was nice here. He sat down on the path between the flowerbeds. He wished he knew what he was supposed to do. Perhaps someone would come along to tell him.
Suddenly he felt wet. There, he could see why. Water was spraying out of black pipes that ran beside the garden beds. It didn’t seem to matter that he was getting wetter by the second. He didn’t move.
Now someone was coming towards him. It was that nice girl. What was her name? Perhaps she would tell him what to do. He hoped so.
‘Berrin! What are you doing sitting there like that?’
Her voice seemed angry. He didn’t understand.
‘Get up!’ she commanded.
He didn’t hesitate. If she wanted him to get up, he would obey.
‘Come on. I don’t like it in here. Let’s go back outside.’
She opened the door. A voice told him to close it again. He tried to obey, but the girl pushed him outside and slammed the door shut herself. Immediately the fragrance of the flowers was gone and this made him sad.
‘Berrin!’ Olanda called, shaking him. ‘Will you listen to me? Wake up!’
But this order didn’t make sense. He was awake.
Then her name swam back to him, like a fish struggling upstream. ‘Olanda,’ he murmured.
‘Yes, it’s me.’
With every breath, he claimed more of himself back from wherever he had been. ‘What happened? I was looking at some beautiful flowers. So many of them.’
Olanda glanced around them anxiously. ‘Berrin,’ she urged, ‘what happened to you in there?’
He was almost himself again. He shook his head to clear it and took another deep breath. ‘I don’t know. You tell me.’
She explained the state he had been in, just moments ago.
‘And when you brought me out here, I was all right again?’
She nodded.
‘The flowers. The fragrance they give off. It took me over, or at least it took away my will to do anything for myself.’
‘How could it do that?’
‘I don’t know.’ He pushed such questions aside, forcing others into their place. ‘What did you find on the roof? What’s making that noise?’
‘I couldn’t see much. There are huge fans turning inside those boxes along the roof.’ She pointed over his shoulder, though he couldn’t have seen them even if he had turned.
Fans. Pipes. ‘There were openings cut into the glass from the inside. The vapour,’ he said softly. ‘The fans collect the vapour given off by those flowers. Then it’s pumped along those pipes …’ He fell silent, remembering what he had seen last night.
‘Where does it get pumped to?’
Berrin pieced it together in his mind. The thin red lines he had seen on the map, the pipes he had seen turned through the walls of the houses. It made sense now.
‘Malig Tumora,’ he murmured. ‘Millions of those flowers, and this is just one of the glass buildings. That’s how he does it! We have to get back to the tunnels. We have to tell Ferdinand what we’ve discovered.’
Berrin took the map from inside his shirt. ‘We’re here,’ he said, touching the paper with the tip of his finger. He searched for the nea
rest place where they could enter the storm-water pipes. It must be hidden, under a bridge or in the basement of a building.
Before he could find it, Olanda went stiff beside him. ‘Berrin!’ she whispered in horror.
He looked up from the map. Thirty metres away, a Gadge stood on three legs, the fourth raised toward his face as he examined something spread on the pads of his paw.
‘He followed the trail of my blood,’ whispered Berrin. Not that it mattered much now. Two more Gadges appeared. All three were smiling venomously. All three looked particularly hungry.
FIFTEEN
An Old Friend and a Wild Ride
BERRIN AND OLANDA WERE surrounded. Or so it seemed. There was only one direction that wasn’t already cut off, and if they didn’t act quickly even that last hope would disappear.
‘Quickly!’ Berrin called. ‘Back into the building.’
‘But the flowers!’ Olanda complained.
‘Would you rather stay here and be eaten?’
She beat him to the door.
‘Please be sure to close the door behind you,’ said the mechanical voice.
Berrin didn’t bother. ‘Across to the other side!’ he called to Olanda ahead of him. ‘Maybe there’s another door.’
He tried not to breathe, but running at this pace he couldn’t avoid it. There wasn’t much point pressing his hand over his face. They would just have to escape before the fragrance of the flowers overcame them.
He had already drawn his sword. Feeling it in his hand, he slashed at the flowers as the two of them dashed past. It was futile. What did a few dead flowers matter among millions?
Their luck held out. There was an identical door in the opposite wall. ‘Please be sure to …’ the voice began calmly, but they didn’t hear the rest. They were out in the open again. But which way should they go?
The Gadges had already burst through the same door, on all fours now, those deadly jaws pulled back into a fierce grimace that would have chilled the blood of anyone who saw it.
Berrin saw it. Olanda too. They glanced around desperately for a chance of escape.
The Tunnels of Ferdinand Page 8