“What is it?” came Valerian’s voice from the darkness. “Where are we? Why is it dark?”
“The torch went out,” said Boy. There was no need for Valerian to know that Willow had dropped it. “It went out ages ago.”
“Where are we?” said Willow.
“What difference does it make?” asked Boy. “It’s dark everywhere.”
“No, it isn’t,” said Willow. “Look there!”
“Where?” asked Valerian.
In the dark it was impossible to know where Willow was looking, but then Boy saw.
Away to one side of them was a speck of light in a distant tunnel. It seemed to be very far away.
“Can you get out of the boat?” Valerian said.
“Who are you talking to?” asked Boy.
“Either of you!” Valerian barked, and his voice echoed around them, finally dying away after many beats of their hearts. They were at the edge of some vast chamber, from across the far side of which came the faint light.
“I think I can,” said Willow, but Boy was already slithering over the side of the boat onto what turned out to be a quayside, long forgotten in this abandoned subterranean world.
“Find my hand,” said Willow, holding it out in the blackness.
Boy worked along the side of the quay, gripping the low edge of the boat, until his arm bumped into Willow’s.
“Take the rope,” she said, passing it to Boy, who, fumbling around, found an iron ring to tie it to.
He pulled Willow up, and then they both helped lift Valerian out.
Once on firm ground, he seemed to recover and take charge again.
“We may as well head for the light. Perhaps it is coming in from the outside.”
And so they walked.
It was like walking on a black night, lit only by a few stars. They could make out their destination clearly enough, but the ground under their feet not at all.
On more than one occasion they caught their boots on rough ground, and twice Willow was unlucky enough to walk into low stone bollards and fall over. It was an ancient square, which seemed to slope slightly uphill away from the canal, and with every step they could see more clearly that the light they were heading for was not daylight but artificial.
It was coming from a low archway in the corner of the square, and beyond it a series of smaller arches led into tiny tunnels, each half the height of an average man.
Boy and Willow hesitated, but Valerian strode through the entrance arch and then bent down at the opening of the small passage that now seemed to their eyes to be dazzling with light.
He jumped back.
The light wavered and then emerged from the hole. It was followed by a man.
“Valerian!” he gasped.
“Kepler!” spluttered Valerian.
6
The two men stood staring at each other.
Kepler was thin, and dwarfed by Valerian. His receding hair lay in black straggles scraped across his head. He wore small glasses of his own design and manufacture. He was dressed in a black frock coat and worn boots and his two gold teeth shone.
“What’s happened to your arm?” he said.
“Broken,” said Valerian. “I ran into Meade and his gang.”
“I warned you-”
“You warned me about a lot of things. But how are you here? The book! What about the book?”
“You would have done better to listen to me,” said Kepler, ignoring Valerian’s question. “If you had, you might not be in this mess.”
Boy and Willow were amazed by the light he was carrying. It was one of his own devices, without doubt. Slung over his shoulder on a wide canvas strap was a box with a brass handle protruding from it. From this, one of his special wires connected to a wooden handle with a glass ball on the end. It was this glass ball that was glowing with a strong yellow light. From time to time the light weakened and Kepler would wind the handle on the box furiously. As he did so the light would return to its full strength.
Kepler walked over to Boy and Willow and inspected them by the light.
“Boy I know. Who is this?”
“A girl. Of some use. She’s cleverer than Boy.”
Kepler grunted.
“What are you all doing here?”
“Listen!” said Valerian. “Have you found the book?” He grasped Kepler with his good hand.
Kepler sighed deeply.
“Alas, Valerian.” He sighed. “I have not.”
“But what were you doing in there?” asked Valerian, pointing at the small tunnel from which Kepler had emerged.
Kepler hesitated just a fraction before answering.
“That was my last attempt,” he said. “My investigations, on your behalf, led me down here. I was led to believe that the answer lay in these catacombs. It has not been easy. Finding a safe entrance to this world was hard enough. I succeeded, but now I have failed. I am sorry, Valerian. There can be no other way.”
“But the motto!” Valerian cried. “The Beebe motto led you down here?”
“Yes. The motto. That led me close. I learnt that the Beebes knew of the catacombs. The family were advisors to the Emperor for many years. They came and went from Linden to the Palace through the canals. I thought the book was hidden here. It was not. You will have to face your past and your future tomorrow night.”
Valerian raged, cursing himself, cursing Kepler and Boy, cursing life itself. Again and again he cried, “No!” It seemed there would be no end to his anguish, but at last he fell silent. His head dropped.
“There is no other way,” Kepler said eventually. “You know that. It is over after all.”
Valerian fell to his knees and did not move.
Boy put his hands to his head. What could he possibly say? Willow looked at Boy, then at Valerian.
“It can’t happen!” she cried. “You can’t give up!”
Valerian remained motionless as she wrapped her arms around his head.
“Come on!” she cried. “Boy, tell him.”
But Boy knew it was hopeless. Tears poured down his face as Kepler watched, motionless.
Finally Kepler spoke.
“We should go. Back to the City.”
No one answered.
“There is no point staying down here,” he said.
“Not for you three,” said Valerian. “You go. Leave me here.”
“We can’t leave you,” cried Boy.
“It may as well happen here as anywhere,” said Valerian. “There is no escaping it now. If I die here, at least no one will have to bury me.”
“No!” cried Boy. “Don’t give up!”
“I am not moving,” Valerian said. “Give me the last of the medicine, Boy. Kepler, do you have any more of these with you? No? Never mind. I shall not be moving far now.”
He sat against a wall and bowed his head.
“I can’t believe he’s giving up,” Willow said to Boy, but Boy did not answer.
Kepler came and crouched by Valerian.
“Valerian! Listen! You will do what I say. You will come with me.”
“I will not! The only reason I like you is because you never preach at me, so don’t start now. I am too ill and tired to move. I will stay here.”
Kepler got to his feet and gave his light another few cranks of the handle.
“Very well,” he said. “You leave me no alternative. I will not see you die in this way. I am going to mend your arm at least. I will take Boy, for help. The girl can stay with you.”
“But I don’t want to go!” cried Boy.
“And I don’t want to leave Boy!” cried Willow.
“You will both do as I say,” said Kepler, “for Valerian. I need Boy to help me carry things to mend his arm. Someone must stay with him.”
They argued awhile longer, but Kepler would not be dissuaded and eventually Boy and Willow agreed. Valerian watched it all-it seemed to have no effect on him now.
Kepler had brought some torches in case his light device stopped working. He handed one to Boy and set it burning with a chemical match.