The Purple Emperor

'There must be some way out of this cell,' Henry moaned helplessly.

'Oh, there is,' said the endolg.

The creature had climbed halfway up one of the walls and was clinging there like a tapestry. Henry looked across at it. 'Pardon?'

'There's a way out,' the endolg repeated.

Henry sniffed. 'Yes, through the door, except they forgot to leave us a key.'

'I don't know why you're taking that sarcastic attitude,' said the endolg airily. ‘I assumed it was a straightforward question and I gave you a straightforward answer.' It anchored itself more firmly to the wall and closed its eyes.

'I'm sorry,' Henry said at once. 'Is there really a way out? Where? How?'

T don't think I'll tell you,' said the endolg. 'I don't react well to sarcasm.'

If it had had a throat, Henry would have strangled it. 'Sorry,' he said again. 'No, honestly, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry. Sorry. It's just – well, you were here before me. I'd have thought if there was some way out, you'd have taken it, that's all. Sorry.'

'I said there was a way out. I didn't say I could use it. I'm not strong enough. But you are. At least I think you are – you look a sturdy boy to me. Sturdy and sarcastic'

Henry contained himself with a superhuman effort. 'Won't you please tell me? You've been a huge help up to now.' A thought occurred to him and he added, 'If I get out, I'll take you with me. If it's somewhere you can't go, I'll carry you.'

The endolg's eyes opened again. 'This is one of the oldest dungeons in the palace,' it said. 'Hasn't been repaired for centuries and wasn't all that well-made to begin with. See that little grating in the middle of the floor…?'

The grating was the one prisoners peed into. There was a smallish, brown-stained hole beside it. Henry's nose wrinkled involuntarily. 'Yes…'

'Comes up if you pull it hard enough.'

Henry stared at the grating. It was six inches across at most. 'I couldn't get through that.'

'The flagstone comes up with it,' said the endolg patiently.

'What's underneath?' Henry felt the first hint of a mounting excitement. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but…

'There's a drain. It's a bit mucky and it'll be a tight fit for somebody your size, but you'll probably get through.'

'Probably?' Henry echoed.

'Well, if you lift the flagstone, you can judge for yourself,' the endolg said. 'If you're not prepared to take my word for it.'

'OK, OK, you think I should manage it. Where does the drain lead?'

'My guess would be the palace sewers,' the endolg said. 'Don't take that as truthspeak, but I once saw a map that showed the whole underground system. I think that must be where it drains to.'

'What about the sewers?' Henry asked. 'Could I get through them all right?'

The endolg snorted. 'Get through them? You could hold a party in them if it wasn't for the smell. They're enormous.'

'What happens if I can't find my way out? Out of the sewers?'

'Oh, come on!' said the endolg. 'I'm telling you how we can get out of here – you want a scale map and a signed guarantee as well?'

'Sorry,' Henry said again.

'If it makes you feel any better, I'll be sticking with you. Don't fancy facing the bilgerats on my own.'

'There are bilgerats down there?' Henry shuddered. He'd only ever seen a live rat once, but they gave him the creeps.

'Big as horses, according to some reports. But I wouldn't take that as truth speak either.' The endolg started to climb down slowly off the wall. 'With luck we won't meet any, but if we do, it's still better than rotting in here, isn't it?'

'Yes,' Henry said uncertainly.

'Well, what are you waiting for? Get the grille up.'

Henry walked hesitantly to the middle of the floor. The stench seemed stronger than it had been, and not just the smell of pee now either. The grating was stained by years of use and had some unpleasant encrustations. 'Are you sure you couldn't get this up yourself?'

'Definite. Endolgs are smart, but we're not that strong. You should do it easily.'

Henry looked at the grille. 'I don't have any gloves.'

'Just my luck,' sighed the endolg. 'Twenty million people in the Realm and I get locked up with a wuss.'

Henry took a deep breath, reached down to grip the grille (with his bare hand – yuk!) and pulled. He felt it move slightly and discovered the endolg was right – the surrounding flag moved too. But it was a long way off coming up easily.

'Use both hands and brace yourself,' the endolg suggested.

'What's your name?' Henry asked it quietly.

'Flapwazzle,' said the endolg. 'Why?'

'Shut up, Flapwazzle,' Henry said. He reached down with both hands and braced himself.

'Use your legs,' Flapwazzle told him. 'Your legs are stronger than your arms.'

Henry locked his grip and pushed hard to straighten his legs. For a moment he was certain nothing was going to happen, then the flagstone came up smoothly and fell over with a crash on the floor.

Henry peered into the foul-smelling hole below. 'I'll never fit into that,' he said.

'I'll go first in case you get stuck,' Flapwazzle volunteered. 'That way, at least one of us will escape.'

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

Henry had an unhappy decision to make. He didn't fancy getting stuck head first down a narrow drain, especially one that people had peed in… and worse. But if he went down feet first and didn't get stuck, he was going to have to negotiate backwards all the way to the main sewers with nothing better to guide him than touchy Flapwazzle, who might, or might not, decide to go off on his own at any time. So which was it to be – head first or feet first into the dark?

'Hurry up!' called Flapwazzle, who had already plunged into the pipe. 'I can't hang about all day – it's smelly down here.'

Henry took his second deep breath of the afternoon and plunged head first through the opening left by the uprooted flagstone.

He got stuck almost at once.

'Push hard,' suggested Flapwazzle.

Henry was loath to take the advice. He could still wriggle backwards and return to the comparatively fresh air of the cell, but each time he pushed forwards, he jammed solid. Pushing harder might get him stuck completely. Even a few feet in, the smell was appalling. He could think of absolutely nothing worse than starving to death while stuck in this ghastly puke-pong of a drain.

'Stop holding your breath!' Flapwazzle advised. 'You're all swole up – no wonder you get stuck.'

'It's my shoulders!' Henry hissed into the foul-smelling darkness. 'It's my shoulders that are stuck. They're not all swole – swollen up.' All the same he released his breath and tried, tentatively, to push forward again. There was a tiny movement, then he stopped.

Somewhere deep in his heart he knew he wasn't pushing hard enough; or at least wasn't pushing as hard as he could. He was terrified of getting stuck fast, but on the other hand the endolg was quite right: there was absolutely no point in wriggling back to rot in a gloomy cell at the mercy of the lunatic Queen.

The thought of the cell gave him an idea. 'I'll just go back and get the taper,' he said. 'We could do with a bit of light down here.'

'Bring a flame into the sewers and you'll set off the methane,' said Flapwazzle calmly. 'Probably take out half the palace.'

'All right,' Henry said sourly. Since he couldn't put off the moment any longer, he pushed forward with all his strength. And was stuck fast, stuck for ever, doomed, choking on the fumes, already dying in the darkness, before he suddenly shot forward like a cork popped from a bottle and found he had actually enough room to work his elbows and propel himself slowly forward.

'Gets wider down here,' said Flapwazzle's voice encouragingly.