by Glenn Dakin
‘Lord Wickland!’ Theo gasped. ‘You’re . . . you’re all right!’
The figure before Theo shimmered and now appeared to be standing, but not on the ground. Theo could have sworn the man was standing over the bomb shaft, above the inner well . . . in thin air.
‘Yes, I’m all right now, my clever Fool. And I leave you to sorrow. Will you do one thing for me? Release one very stubborn old man from the deepest of my dungeons. He will be found below the ash tunnels. Will you promise me that?’
Theo nodded. But it was strange to hear Lord Wickland sounding so sad, so final, when he stood there looking so young and bright.
‘I go now,’ Lord Wickland said. ‘I go into the candle light.’
As Theo gazed, astonished, a large, black, hooded bird landed next to the ashes of Lord Wickland’s skull.
Chapter Thirty-nine
Unearthed
‘There,’ said a cool female voice. ‘We found you.’
Theo turned to see a tall woman in a ragged silver costume strolling into the ruined chamber. Her wild, dark hair was singed and faintly smouldering. More hooded crows swooped to follow her. Just behind her were a handful of men in torn white coats, covered in blood and ashes. A pack of grinning wolves loped beside them, some limping, their fur scorched and smoking.
‘Lady Blessing!’ Theo cried.
She made a wry face. ‘I wanted to go home and have a shower,’ she remarked. ‘But he insisted we check up on you.’
She nodded back to the doorway, where a bizarre procession was arriving. Slow-moving Phytosaurs, the immense, waddling crocodilian monsters, were carrying a makeshift bier on their backs, a kind of bed of ropes and timber. Lying on it was the blackened, still-smoking form of the Dodo.
‘I knew we would find you,’ whispered his cracked voice. ‘All humans stink to the sensitive noses of my creatures, but you, Theobald, with your knack for getting in and out of extraordinary situations, stink more than most.’
‘You made it,’ Theo said, smiling to see the old man. ‘You survived!’
‘Just,’ commented Lady Blessing.
Theo peered at the scorched and ragged form of the Dodo. His skin was mostly blackened and blistered. One of his hands was like a piece of charred meat, and his left eye was bloated and pale, reminding Theo of a poached egg.
‘Surprised? You haven’t been paying attention, my boy,’ the Dodo groaned. ‘Thanks to the touch of your ancestor, who transfigured my cells with his cursed power, I cannot die.’
‘Yes, but you’d still be cooking down in that pit if we hadn’t turned up to haul you out,’ Lady Blessing said sharply.
The Dodo, wincing with pain, turned his head slightly to look at Theo.
‘Now, young man, be so kind as to tell me . . . Dr Pyre?’
‘He – he’s gone,’ replied Theo. And after a moment’s thought he added, ‘He never really existed in the first place.’
The Dodo’s face twisted into the tiniest suggestion of a smile. ‘Quite the sort of answer I would expect from a curious boy like you!’ he sighed.
‘He – he said we’re in great danger, from the Philanthropist,’ Theo added.
The Dodo scowled. ‘You might be in great danger,’ he said, ‘of all, each and every kind. But I am not. When you have become a Reluctant Immortal, then danger is a thrill reserved for others.’
Lady Blessing raised her eyes to heaven. ‘Listen to him! You’d think he came out of this without a scratch,’ she said. ‘We’d better get you home, Sir Peregrine,’ she added in a respectful tone, ‘where I can look after you.’
The Dodo gave a small nod.
‘Come,’ snapped Lady Blessing. Theo followed as they headed out of the control dome.
‘The men have been studying the machinery here,’ Lady Blessing remarked. ‘The place is a wreck. The bomb cannot be activated now. It seems the threat from these Wonderful Machines is over.’
Theo nodded. ‘But what about the greater menace? The original Philanthropist has returned. Do you think we should do something about that?’ he asked anxiously.
‘Looking for more adventures already?’ sighed the Dodo from his bier. ‘Oh, what it is to be young.’
Theo suddenly felt tired and unable to care any more. Now that Dr Pyre had gone, his words, his warnings, seemed to be fading like a dream.
‘This battle is won,’ the Dodo said. ‘I only wish to return home and calm my beloved beasts – the dear Phytosaurs and the delicate Wolf Rats.’
Theo sighed. He felt lost, tired and confused. Lady Blessing took him aside and pointed up a narrow side passage.
‘This tunnel,’ she said, ‘will take you back to your friends. Our spies –’ here she glanced at a couple of tiny bats, nestling by the Dodo’s enormous head – ‘tell us the Orpheus squad are still stuck behind a wall of fire up there.’
‘Then how did you get through?’ Theo asked.
‘Aha,’ Lady Blessing looked smug. ‘We discovered a way after rescuing the Dodo from the pit he was dumped in. There’s a whole catacomb connecting the Furnace up there with the vault down here. Old service tunnels and waste chutes. A delightful place when you get to know it!’ She offered Theo the shadow of a smile. ‘Anyway, run along, and get your party hat on – a great celebration is about to begin.’
‘For the Society of Dread?’
‘No,’ groaned the Dodo. ‘For the police. And we cannot rub shoulders with that rabble. I rather suspect the part the Society of Dread played in this day will be erased from history.’
Theo frowned, but he was too drained to feel any great surprise.
‘Go, Master Wickland,’ the Dodo said quietly. ‘Go and enjoy as much of the glory as you can.’
Theo looked bleak. ‘I don’t think there is any glory, actually.’
The Dodo nodded. ‘Perhaps, but you are too young to know that. Now do as I say for once. Go away and pretend to enjoy yourself, for heaven’s sake.’
It was the smoglodytes who found the way through. Theo stumbled on a band of young imps, little more than smoglings, in the catacombs that Lady Blessing had discovered.
Theo had set them to work, finding a way up through the tunnels until they located the dungeons that Lord Wickland had spoken of. The smogs had even found a way wide enough for Theo to crawl through, so he could be there at the official rescue in person.
The playful young smoglings snickered and smirked at Theo’s efforts as he followed the subterranean obstacle course they had pioneered for him. Here and there, the walls were cracked and the roof had fallen in, evidence of the great tripudon explosion that had rocked the whole cavern.
‘Why do they make humans like that?’ a smogling asked. ‘They can’t squeeze through cracks or pour themselves down holes . . . horrible great lumbering things – how do they ever get about?’
‘Shush! This is the Candle Hand. If you annoy him he’ll pop you. Do you know he’s killed about a hundred smogs already?’
‘No!’
Theo grimaced at this banter. He recalled, not so long ago, resolving never to use his powers again to hurt anybody or anything. Now look what he had done: added another terrible chapter in the myth of the Candle Hand. He crawled on hands and knees through the ruins, coughing on the remnants of acrid smoke, pricking his hands on thorny bits of dead crelp.
‘Oh dear!’ gasped a young smog with mock concern. The dead bodies of two human guards, Sewer Rats, lay outside the dungeon doors, crushed by rubble from the caved-in roof above.
‘Funny, isn’t it?’ the smog said. ‘The prisoner is safe in his cell, while the guards get smashed to death outside.’
‘Look at the expression on this one’s face!’ giggled another smogling, chuckling over the crushed corpse.
‘This is it,’ said Theo, regarding the dungeon door. A smogling stooped, took the keys from the belt of one of the dead figures and gave them to Theo.
‘They use these,’ the smog said, with a small frown on its turnip-shaped face. ‘I’m not sure h
ow they work.’
But Theo had already spotted that the lock was made of golden oronium. He touched it and it melted away.
‘Whooo!’ exclaimed the smogs appreciatively. The door creaked open and Theo peered inside. Something stirred slowly in the shadows. It was Magnus. His mottled, bald head turned and his small, squinting eyes blinked in surprise.
‘Theo,’ he said with a strange, sad smile. ‘Of course.’
The old man rose slowly, resting his weight on his two chipped and worn walking sticks. ‘There’s been quite a commotion,’ he added. ‘I take it the Wonderful Machines did not destroy us all?’
Theo tried to smile, but could not.
Magnus gave him a searching look.
‘Is he – is he gone then . . . the terrible Dr Pyre?’ Magnus asked cautiously. He spoke the word ‘terrible’ with strange emphasis – almost tenderness.
‘Gone, said Theo softly. ‘Into the candle light.’
Magnus looked thoughtful. ‘Ah.’ He followed Theo out of the dungeon. ‘So you know.’
There was a moment’s silence. Theo frowned. ‘Magnus, did you know who Dr Pyre was all along?’ he gasped.
Magnus put a gnarled old finger to his lips. ‘The Mysteries must be respected,’ he said. ‘For now, at least.’
Snuffling keenly along the cracked and rubble-strewn passages, the smoglings soon uncovered more captives. As Theo peered through the bars in the gloom he was greeted with an unexpected outburst of cheers. There, in a ruined courtyard, still locked in their cells, were Sam, Freddie and all the other slaves.
‘Theo!’ Sam cried through the bars. ‘Grandad! I knew you’d save us!’
‘About time too,’ grumbled Freddie. And everyone cheered again.
Chapter Forty
Vigilant
A grinning Orpheus officer, his face grimy, his uniform burnt and ragged, ran from the main door of the Furnace.
‘Sir,’ he called to Captain Chloe Cripps. ‘I think we’ve got some good news for you!’
Chloe looked up eagerly. Frustrated in her attempts to break through the wall of flames, she had sent men down into the tunnels below the Furnace to hunt for any signs of life. Now, on the heels of the Orpheus guard, a soot-blackened mob of survivors emerged from the main door.
‘Theo!’
Chloe ran towards her friends, who all seemed to be coming out of the ruins at once. A jabbering crowd of smoglodytes sprang out of the doorway too, adding their gleeful howls to the celebration.
A bandaged, drained-looking Colonel Fairchild limped across the broken ground to give Theo a rather shaky salute. In a hopeful voice, he posed the question in all of their minds.
‘Mission accomplished?’
Before Theo could answer, Skun sprang into view and danced around him with a crazy grin on his face.
‘We did it, didn’t we?’ Skun asked. ‘We smashed Dr Pyre and his disgusting crelp? Tell me we won!’
Theo didn’t know what to say. Magnus caught his eye.
The truth isn’t always welcome, Theo thought. There is a right time and a wrong time for it. He knew that now. It wouldn’t be right to reveal that Dr Pyre had been the original Candle Man – that his desperate battle with the Philanthropist had led him to become dark, destructive and bitter against all humankind.
‘Dr Pyre won’t bother us any more,’ said Theo finally.
‘Yoo-woo-hooo!’ cried the smoglings.
‘You are the dreadest of the dread,’ said Skun with great respect.
‘I never doubted him for a minute,’ said Freddie Dove, trying to beat the ash out of the remains of his frock coat.
Theo had been glancing around anxiously. ‘Did anyone see a – a garghoul?’ he asked. ‘He was in the fortress too.’
The thought of his horned ally made Theo feel uneasy. Lord Wickland had claimed that Tristus had tried to lead the garghouls in an uprising against mankind. Could it be true? There had always been a cloud over the garghoul, a mystery of some unhappy kind. Theo wasn’t sure now if he wanted to face the creature or not.
‘The proud one has flown,’ said Skun. ‘We held up the whole cavern together and saved all these horrible polices.’ He grimaced at Colonel Fairchild and his team. ‘Then the ungrateful melch flitted away.’
‘But he was blind –’
‘Yes, I know,’ Skun interrupted. ‘But the stubborn golamphous said that the stone would talk to him and tell him the way. The way where, I don’t know.’
Theo smiled. So the garghoul was gone. But Theo’s heart felt lighter, somehow. Tristus had played a part in saving everyone, then chosen to disappear. It was typical of the mysterious asraghoul.
Just then there was a stir among the Orpheus guards on the bridge. One of the officers posted at the entrance to the Well Chamber was crying out.
‘They’re here! They’re here!’
Some kind of rescue force was arriving. Swarming down the tunnel from the Well Chamber were dozens of men and women in blue versions of the Orpheus uniform. Smart, clean, brisk, they were a sharp contrast to the dishevelled mob that had survived the battle with the crelp.
‘Excellent,’ said Colonel Fairchild, recovering a little of his composure. He even managed a fleeting smile. ‘Lord Gold said there would be a recovery force after the victory. They’ll help the civilians back to the surface.’
Sam nodded. ‘Best place for them.’
‘That includes you,’ Fairchild snapped at Sam.
‘We’re not civilians,’ Sam objected. ‘We’re the Society of Unrelenting Vigilance!’
Freddie grinned at Sam’s indignant red face. ‘The time for griping is over,’ he said. ‘Time to sit back and lap up the praise . . . the brave and glorious survivors! I expect I shall dine out on this adventure for years – and not on crelp moss and cave-water!’
Theo said goodbye to Sam and Magnus, who were among the first to be allowed to return to the surface, and home. He longed to go with them, but Chloe had told him that one or two Orpheus duties still remained.
Watching his friends departing across the rock bridge to the Well Chamber, Theo felt a little finger dig him in the ribs.
‘We’re leaving,’ piped up Skun. ‘Too many humans!’ He bowed to Theo. ‘I’m taking my tribe out of here,’ he said. ‘Goodbye, great Candle Hand. We shall always be brothers now.’
Theo smiled. He liked that idea. ‘You won’t change sides again?’ Theo asked.
‘Ah well,’ said Skun. ‘It would be easy to promise that. But don’t forget what great liars we smogs are.’
Skun bowed towards Colonel Fairchild. ‘This victory was brought to you courtesy of the Society of Dread. Our dreadfulness is always at your disposal.’
He sprang away, cackling. Theo watched as the smoglodytes disappeared like little shadows into the cracks in the ground. Finally, only humans remained, and suddenly the world seemed a little drabber for it.
Down Street Headquarters was silent. The corridors were lined with the returned Orpheus forces – those that had survived. The lucky unscathed ones supported the wounded.
Theo walked slowly through the ranks. Many heads turned to follow his progress as he passed, covered in soot, scratches and scars.
In the central hall, Lord Gold was waiting. There was a hush from the men as Theo walked up to their leader.
‘I want to hear it from your own lips, Theo,’ Lord Gold said gravely. ‘Is Dr Pyre gone? Did you see him destroyed, with your own eyes?’
Theo nodded. At first it seemed as if his voice would not come. Then he managed a quiet reply.
‘He’s gone, yes.’
Lord Gold smiled. Suddenly the room erupted with cheers of relief and cries of emotion from those who had witnessed a day of terrible deeds. Some had tears streaking their faces.
‘A great day, Theo,’ Lord Gold said. ‘We did it.’
Theo nodded. ‘Yes, sir,’ he said. ‘We did.’
Everywhere the Orpheus forces were talking – some slumped in chairs, others receiv
ing medical attention. Everyone was reliving the events of the day. Through the hubbub, Theo was amazed to see a pristine figure in a white suit approaching. The figure acknowledged Theo with a tight little smile.
‘Lord Dove!’ Theo gasped.
The Ex-chief Benevolence of the Society of Good Works looked refreshed and resplendent. His son Freddie, still caked in the grime of the furnaces, stood happily by his side.
‘Well done, Master Wickland,’ Lord Dove said. ‘I knew the Candle Man would succeed. I showed great wisdom in sending you down there when I did. I’ve always been clever like that.’
Freddie grinned. ‘Seems like Father has turned over a new leaf,’ he said cheerfully. ‘A day of wonders all around. There might be hope for the Dove family yet.’
‘But Lord Dove!’ Theo gasped. ‘What are you doing here?’
Lord Gold appeared by Theo’s side, beaming. His Lordship was the only person wearing the black Orpheus uniform who was not exhausted and filthy.
‘A new age, Theo,’ he said. ‘With Dr Pyre gone, and with me in charge of law and order in this city, it’s a fresh start. The police pulled in Lord Dove a short while ago. I’ve decided that he, and everyone else in the Society of Good Works who was still on the run, shall receive a full pardon.’
Theo was surprised, but he gave a tired smile. ‘That’s . . . that’s what I wanted too,’ he said, a little uncertainly. ‘A new start. No more enemies.’
‘Exactly.’ Lord Gold beamed at everyone.
‘With you in charge, Lord Commissioner,’ Lord Dove said, ‘it really will be a golden age!’
The room started to fill up with other dignitaries and police officials. Lord Gold received congratulations from them for the success of the mission. The Dodo had been right, Theo reflected. No one seemed to mention the role the Society of Dread had played at all.
Strangely, Theo rather liked it that way. He and Chloe took the first opportunity to make themselves scarce.
* * *
‘So you didn’t tell Lord Gold that Dr Pyre was really Lord Wickland?’ Magnus said to Theo that night as they all gathered around the open fire in the tiny grate at the cemetery keeper’s cottage. Sam passed around some hefty slices of homemade flapjack, burnt to a crisp around the edges.