After checking out of the Ritz, a short walk took them to the nearest underground train station. Michael bought tickets and led the way to the stairs which descended to the platform.
Madrick seemed to take each fresh experience in his stride, although his first attempt to ride an escalator didn't go well.
"Let's take this set of stairs," Madrick said as he stepped onto the up escalator. "They're less crowded than those other ones."
Michael watched in amusement as he stepped faster and faster but was getting nowhere. When he stopped stepping a look of fear spread across his face as 'an invisible force' propelled him in reverse. Before he could adjust, his heels hit the top of the stairs and he toppled backwards. Michael had seen the problem coming and managed to catch him before any real damage was done.
"Escalator," he said, trying to be helpful.
"Excalibur?"
"Follow me," said Michael sidestepping any discussion about King Arthur.
He led the way onto the down side and, after a bit of wobbling, the others managed to get on safely behind him. As usual, Tung struggled with new adventures and became quite agitated as they descended farther and farther into the bowels of the earth. They'd beaten the rush hour by ninety minutes or so, so at least he'd missed the added scariness of packed trains and thousands of bustling bodies.
They stood on a relatively empty platform and waited.
EEERGH. WHOOOSH. EEERGH.
A violent rush of air, a putrid sulphurous smell and ear-splitting screechy shrieks buffeted their senses, heralding the approach of the train. Michael readied himself to board whereas Tung and Madrick squealed and flung themselves against the wall, clutching their heads and covering their ears.
"Here be dragons," yelled Tung, "AND THE DRAGONS ARE COMING!"
"God save us from these demons from hell," screamed Madrick.
"Calm down, guys, you don't need to be scared," said Michael. "It's just the train coming. I swear it's not going to hurt you. Trust me."
The tube drew into the station and its doors slid open. A lot of reassurance and the fact that the 'dragon' was now stationery, silent and notbreathing fire , seemed to calm the pair enough for him to beable to coax them to follow him into the guts of the monster. He tried to imagine how they were feeling. Terrified, no doubt, when the beast's orifices closed behind them as soon as they'd passed through. A sense of overwhelming fear must have engulfed them when the mammoth wormy-beast shuddered, rocked and crawled away into the total darkness of a pitch black tunnel.
He watched their anxiety build as the speed increased and the noise became overpowering, this was bound to be beyond anything they'd ever experienced before.
"At least it's not as noisy as the Noise Spell," said Madrick, proving him wrong.
Every so often, the train careered through brightly lit stations, blinding them but before their eyes could adjust, they were plunged back into the darkness of hell's tunnels. They both held on for grim death to their seats; seats they wouldn't have had if it'd been rush hour. They mightn't have survived the shaking and jolting if they'd had to stand.
In less than thirty minutes they arrived at the station nearest the apartment. The doors slid open and both Madrick and Tung rushed out onto the platform... free at last. They weren't taking any chances; the monster might change its mind about releasing them. They gulped in great lungfuls of air before collapsing onto their knees, as if in prayer.
"Come on, guys, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
They looked at him as if he had two heads.
"Okay, never mind. Just follow me and I'll get you away from the beast and back to the earth's surface."
They followed Michael's lead, checking over their shoulders every so often.
"You're safe now," said Michael, "except for the stairs of course."
"I'm right behind you," said Madrick tucking himself in close to Michael so as to avoid a repeat of the earlier 'wrong escalator' fiasco.
When they all eventually surfaced, a brisk ten minute walk took them to Michael's first floor flat in a converted warehouse. It wasn't as plush as the Ritz by any stretch of the imagination but it was a fantastic home for one so young.
Michael gave them a lightning tour of the place, ending up in the spare bedroom which would be their resting place for the foreseeable future. Tung looked disappointed.
"This isn't as good as the Ritz," he said as he flopped onto one of the beds. "No chocolates on the pillow for a start."
"You're welcome," said Michael.
"Look on the bright side for once, Tung," said Madrick as he hopped onto the other bed. "Think about the crazy twists and turns our lives have taken over the past few weeks. Who'd have thought we'd end up somewhere like this with help from someone like Michael?"
"Look," said Michael, pointing at Tung who was sleeping the sleep of the contented.
"You know what, Michael? Right now, I'm happy for the first time in years, and I mean genuinely happy. I'm actually looking forward to whatever the universe has planned for me."
The old man smiled, closed his eyes and fell asleep; dreaming his dreams.
Michael left the two snoozers and went off to do what he always did when he got home, namely logging onto his computer and trawling through his emails, messages and monitoring programs. These programs helped him stay on top of his job by keeping an automatic electronic eye on all the bank's key systems and, more importantly, they monitored what other people were doing. Information is power after all. He scanned his boss's emails, and those of the chairman and the most influential of the bank's directors but today there was nothing of particular interest so he logged off.
As he pushed pack in his chair and relaxed, a ravenous hunger took hold of his body, so he wandered down to his small kitchen to rustle up some food for himself and his new houseguests. A scavenge through the freezer unearthed two meat feast pizzas, they were easy to heat, easy to eat and they always went well with a few bottles of beer. And he felt like a few bottles of beer.
The gas oven didn't flick into life... it did that sometimes. A rummage around the 'stuff' drawer uncovered the electronic pilot-light lighter. Holding it against the pilot, he hit the button and watched the bright blue spark jump from the tip to the gas. It wasn't a big explosion but it was enough to singe off most of Michael's eyebrows and frazzle the front of his beard. It brought the others running to see what had happened.
"Are you OK? You're not in here messing about with magic, are you?"
"No," he smiled at the thought, "just a small problem with the gas."
"What have you done to your face?"
He rubbed his hand over the prickly remnants of his eyebrows.
"Just a minor sinjury," he said as he popped the pizzas into the now lit oven.
Half an hour later they were all in front of the big television dribbling melted cheese down their chins.
"I'd forgotten the sheer joy of simple food, and beer," said Tung. "Maybe staying at your place, Michael, isn't going to be so bad after all. In my past life, I was easily pleased but the Ritz spoiled me more than just a bit."
"And it seems that the beer is gradually bringing back Mr Easily Pleased," said Madrick. "Thank goodness."
The TV news was on in the background.
"Look," said Michael, turning up the volume, "this is about you."
A reporter was talking about an inexplicable discovery at the Ritz. He was standing outside the hotel trying to describe the bizarre scene which one of the chambermaids had come across. They cut to an interview with the maid.
"It was unbelievable, seriously, you wouldn't believe it. I opened up the room as usual and wheeled my cart in. And there it was, a giant fish eating a statue which had a black fur cape on it. I couldn't stop myself, I started screaming. It was the weirdest thing you've ever seen. Seriously, we're talking weird, weird, weird."
They cut away from the interview and showed a photograph of the room. It certainly was the weirdest thing ever. The three of them laughed out loud and clinked bottles.
"All in a day's work," said Madrick. "But hold on, that's a bit strange."
"Of course it's a bit strange," giggled Tung, "I made it that way."
"No, that's not what I mean. Look, remember the shield? The shield's gone."
They all looked at the image. There was the scene exactly the way Tung had left it. There was the statue in the fur cape with its hand in the mouth of the big silver fish; but Madrcik was right, there was no shield. They started to speculate about what might have happened when the hotel manager appeared on the screen.
"Can you tell us anything about the person who'd been staying in the room?" asked the interviewer.
"Well, it was actually a bit unusual. There were two of them, a father and son. They gave their names as Tung and Madrick Tide. The father, Madrick, had long, scruffy grey hair and a matching grey beard."
"Scruffy?" said Madrick smoothing his hair with his hand.
"He seemed very... I don't know how to describe it... old-fashioned. The son didn't say much but he seemed strangely old-fashioned as well. Unusually, they paid us with cash and, we've only realised now, they didn't give a home address. It seems they told the receptionist they were from 'a place far away' and that's what they wrote in the register... a place far away."
"And where are they now?"
"I don't know," said the manager. "They checked out earlier today and left no forwarding address. We'd like to talk to them because it seems the statue and fur cape are extremely valuable. We have the items safely stored for them. We pride ourselves in returning anything our guests have left in their rooms. We're not planning to store the fish though."
The manager seemed to be relishing this opportunity to promote the Ritz on national television and no doubt he'd have continued to talk about his wonderful hotel had the interviewer not cut him off in mid flow.
"What a fascinating story," he said as he turned back to face the camera. "There are so many unanswered questions. We'll keep you posted about any developments but in the meantime, please contact us if you know who these men are because we'd love to talk to them. This is John Black, Channel 6 News, reporting from the Ritz Hotel in London, England. Now back to the news desk."
They watched for a few minutes to see if anything more was going to be said but there was nothing. Michael flicked round the other news channels but there didn't appear to be any more coverage for the time being.
"We certainly made an impression," said Madrick.
"The fur cape on the statue was genius. They'll never work out what happened," said Tung.
"Let's hope not. Media attention is the last thing we need," said Michael. He wasn't as happy as the others and tried to get them to understand how dangerous this was. His aspiration to maintain a low profile had been spectacularly scuppered. Tung and Madrick agreed but Michael suspected that inside they were both quite enjoying their fifteen minutes of fame.
That evening, the Ritz restaurant had its busiest night for years because of the excitement generated by the extremely strange findings in one of their hotel rooms. The fish pie special was particularly popular.