Eritopia

Into the Unknown

Not-Bear looked over to the others.

'They will not go without you,' Jod said.

Drinking great gulps of air, Not-Bear steadied himself. At least he was not alone as he was in his dreams. He walked back over.

'All right, Wolf?' Martin said. Beetle patted him on the back.

'Fine,' Not-Bear gulped.

'One of us will walk ahead, and I will be behind you, if that helps,' Jod explained. Not-Bear nodded. He was shaking.

'Let's go then,' he declared.

They pushed through the space between the door and frame, closing the door behind them. Mighty hinges unused for years stretched and shrieked. They wanted to remove the keys, but the oak creaked as they tried. They gave up and faced the first obstacle – steps leading down to an unlit chasm.

'I wish we had light,' Jod said.

There was a spluttering sound and light flooded the way ahead.

'I forgot ter say,' said Beetle. 'I found these in the kitchens when I was searching for the keys.' He held a handful of long sticks up to view.

'Matches.'

'I didn't want to light them back there.'

'What are matches?' Not-Bear asked.

Martin replied. 'The chefs use them. They are very rare in the city. You rub two together and they ignite in flame. They use them to get fire in the ovens.'

'Fire from nothing?'

'Yes. Clever isn't it?' said Beetle.

He was leading the way and they saw the steps ahead of them. One by one they went down. Long shadows stretched and shimmied on the walls and ceiling. Not-Bear had to walk sideways. Jod kept murmuring behind him, 'Nothing here. Everything is good.'

They got to the bottom and for the first time heard water. Rushing, gurgling water. And although Not-Bear could smell it, it didn't seem to be close. What he could smell was dampness, mould, and the scent of small creatures. Rats, he thought.

Beetle's match spluttered and went out.

'I won't light another yet,' he said. 'We haven't got many.'

They stood in the gloom, listening and waiting. Not-Bear panted; it was the only sound apart from the water.

'We head towards the river,' Beetle said. 'Come on.'

****

Above ground soldiers were searching the dungeons, cells and the gardens beyond. Chefs and kitchen hands were being rounded up and interrogated. Looking for the wolf.

Soon Barnabas appeared and moved from room to room. 'Search every crevice. Interrogate everyone. I want that wolf found.'

He swept though the corridors, pursued by Spume and eager-to-please soldiers. But search as they might, they couldn't find him.

Then a soldier wandered into an old storeroom and saw a bunch of keys dangling from a massive oak door.

They summoned the King.

'Well don't stand there! You, you, and you two,' he appointed four soldiers. 'Get after them.' Gingerly they stepped through the doorway into the dark unknown. They linked arms, feeling their way down the steps. They didn't talk – fear of the king drove them. Their eyes could barely make out a step ahead. One in the middle stumbled, almost taking the others down. Their swords clattered against the wall as they descended.

In the storeroom behind, Barnabas was growing in rage and opinion. 'That damned Melos,' he shouted. He shook the keys that were stuck in the door. 'Bring me someone who can get these out!'

He lashed at a couple of guards, told them to keep the door open and await a locksmith. Then he raged at his loyal chancellor, asking why he had not seen the danger of Melos earlier.

Spume wrung his hands, and reasoned Melos was a magician, who held the King under a spell. Melos had bewitched them all with talk of power, he said.

'Yes, he promised power,' the King admitted. He prowled the corridor. 'In which case it is power we will have, with or without his help.' He turned to face Spume. 'Call the army to arms. I want every man and youth able to carry a weapon ready.'

'But what about the escapees?' Spume asked.

'We cannot rely on these idiots to catch them. If we do, it alters nothing. An army is coming. I am convinced of it. We need to have an army to counter them.'

****

They were moving down a narrow walkway with the gurgling stream in earshot. Beetle lit another match as they reached the bottom of the steps. It revealed a wider tunnel, flanked by a dripping and lichen-crusted wall.

They pressed on. Not-Bear was relieved to find the tunnel was not as close as in his dreams. But when the match went out, his dreams came back to disturb him.

He saw faint shadows and the shimmering reflection of the wall at the edge of the stream. He could hear faint waves lapping along the path. Beetle, who was still leading, slipped and dipped a foot into the stream, cursing as he did so.

'Careful Dad, you'll be swept away.'

Then Not Bear stopped. 'Men!' He barked ahead. His voice pierced the gloom.

'Behind?'

'Yes, I can smell them. Three or four.'

'They must have found the door,' Martin said.

'It was inevitable,' said Jod.

'They've got to take the same steps as us,' Beetle hissed. 'Keep going, unless they have a torch.'

'Where do you think we are?' Jod asked.

'Still below the palace.' Beetle said. 'Until we find the well. That will tell us how far we are from the 'edge.'

'But we don't know if we can get out through the well.'

'No.'

'Or beyond.'

'No. But, but...'

It was Jod who spoke next. 'We must end up somewhere. This tunnel was built for a reason.'