Tunnels

In contrast, Cal hardly touched a thing, picking unenthusiastically — before withdrawing again to the other side of the chamber. Will didn't have much of an appetite, either, particularly after witnessing Imago's performance. He pulled out a can of Coke and had just started sipping it when he suddenly thought about the jade green pendant that Tam had given him. He found it in his jacket and took it out to examine its dull surface. It was still smeared with Tam's blood, which had congealed within the three indentations carved into one of its faces. He stared at it and ran his thumb across it lightly. He was certain he'd seen the same three-pronged symbol somewhere before. Then he remembered. It had been on the milestone in the Labyrinth.

* * * * *

While Imago was working his way through a bar of plain chocolate, savoring each mouthful, Cal spoke from the other side of the chamber, his voice flat and listless.

'I want to go home. I don't care anymore.'

Imago choked, spitting out a hail of half-chewed chocolate globs. He spun his head around to face Cal, his horsetail braid whipping into the air. 'And what about the Styx?'

'I'll talk to them, I'll make them listen to me,' Cal replied feebly.

'They'll listen, all right, while they're cutting out your liver or hacking you limb from limb!' Imago rebuked him. 'You little idiot, d'you think Tam gave his life just so you could chuck yours away?'

'I… no…' Cal was blinking with fright as Imago continued to shout.

Still holding the pendant tightly, Will pressed it to his forehead, covering his face with his hand. He just wanted everyone to shut up; he didn't need any of this. He wanted it all to stop, if only for a moment.

'You selfish, stupid… what are you going to do, get your father or Granny Macaulay to hide you… and risk their lives, too? This is going to be bad enough as it is!' Imago was yelling.

'I just thought—'

'No, you didn't!' Imago cut him off. 'You can never go back, d'you understand? Get that into your thick head!' Casting the rest of the chocolate bar aside, he strode to the opposite side of the chamber.

'But I…' Cal started to say.

'Get some sleep!' Imago growled, his face rigid with anger. He wrapped his coat tightly around him and, using his satchel as a pillow, he lay down on his side with his face to the wall.

* * * * *

There they remained for the better part of the next day, alternately eating and sleeping with hardly a word passing between them. After all the horror and excitement of the past twenty-four hours, Will welcomed the opportunity to recuperate, and spent much of the time in a heavy, dreamless sleep. He was eventually woken by Imago's voice, and lethargically opened one eye to see what was going on.

'Come over here and give me a hand, will you, Cal?'

Cal quickly jumped up and joined Imago, who was kneeling by the center of the chamber.

'It weighs a ton.' Imago grinned.

As they slid aside the metal circle in the ground, it was patently obvious Imago could have managed by himself and that this was his way of patching things up with Cal. Will opened his other eye and flexed his arm. His shoulder was stiff, but his injuries didn't hurt nearly as much as they had.

Cal and Imago were now lying full-length on the ground, peering down into the circular opening as Imago played his light into it. Will crawled over to see what they were looking at. There was a well a good three feet across and then a murky darkness below it.

'I can see something shining,' Cal said.

'Yes, railway tracks,' Imago replied.

'The Miners' Train,' Will realized as he saw the two parallel lines of polished iron glinting in the pitch- blackness.

They pulled back from the hole and sat around it, waiting eagerly for Imago to speak.

'I'm going to be blunt, because we don’t have much time,' he said. 'You have two choices. Either we lie low up here for a while and then I get you Topsoil again, or—'

'No, not there,' said Cal right away.

'I'm not saying it's going to be easy to get you there,' Imago admitted. 'Not with three of us.'

'No way! I couldn't take it!' Cal raised his voice until he was almost shouting.

'Don't be so hasty,' Imago warned. 'If we did make it Topsoil, at least you could try to lose yourselves somewhere the Styx can't find you. Maybe.'

'No,' repeated Cal with absolute conviction.

Imago was now looking directly at Will. 'You should be aware…' He clammed up, as if what he was about to say was so terrible that he didn't quite know how to put it. 'Tam thinks' — he quickly corrected himself with a grimace — 'thought that the Styx girl who passed herself off as your Topsoiler sister' — he coughed uneasily and wiped his mouth — 'is the Crawfly's daughter. So Tam just killed her father back there in the City.'

'Rebecca's father?' Will asked in a nonplussed voice.

'Oh, great,' Cal croaked.

'Why's that important? What does—' Will managed, before Imago cut him short.

'The Styx don't leave be. They will pursue you, anywhere you go. Anyone who gives you shelter — Topsoil, in the Colony, or even in the Deeps — is in danger, too. You know they have people all over the surface.' Imago scratched his belly and frowned. 'But if Tam was right, it means that as bad as your situation was before, it's worse now. You're in the very greatest danger. You are marked now.'

Will tried to absorb what he'd just been told, shaking his head at the unfairness, the injustice of it all.

'So you're saying that if I go Topsoil, I'm on the run. And if I went to Auntie Jean's, then…'

'She's dead.' Imago shifted uneasily where he sat on the dusty rock floor. 'That's the way it is.'

'But what are you going to do, Imago?' Will asked, finding it impossible to grasp the situation he was in.

'I can't go back to the Colony, that's for sure. But don't you worry 'bout me; it's you two that need sorting out.'

'But what should I do?' Will asked, glancing over at Cal, who was staring at the opening in the floor, and then back to Imago, who just shrugged unhelpfully, leaving Will feeling even worse. He was at a total loss. It was as though he were playing a game where you were only told the rules after you made a mistake. 'Well, I suppose there's nothing Topsoil for me, anyway. Not now,' he mumbled, bowing his head. 'And my dad's down here… somewhere.'

Imago pulled over his satchel and rummaged inside it, fishing out something wrapped in an old piece of burlap, which he passed to Will.

'What's this?' Will muttered, folding back the cloth. With so many thoughts racing through his head, he was in a state of confusion, and it took him several seconds to appreciate just what he'd been given.

It was a flattened and solid glob of paper, which easily fit into his fist. With torn and irregular edges, it had evidently been immersed in water and then left to dry, the pieces clumped together in a crude papier-mвchй. He glanced inquiringly at Imago, who offered no comment, so he began to pick away at the outer layers, much as one might peel the desiccated leaves from an ancient onion. As he scratched at their furred edges with a fingernail, it didn't take him long to separate the pieces of paper. Then he laid them out to inspect them more closely under his light.

'No! I don't believe it! This is my dad's writing!' Will said with surprise and delight as he recognized Dr. Burrows's characteristic scrawl on a number of the fragments. They were mud-stained and the blue ink had run, making very little of it legible, but he was still able to decipher some of what was written.

''I will resume, ' Will recited from one fragment, quickly moving on to the others and scrutinizing each of them in turn. 'No, this piece is too smudged,' he mumbled. 'Nothing here, either,' he continued, and 'I don't know… some odd words… doesn't make any sense… but… ah, this says 'Day 15 !' He continued to scour several more fragments until he stopped with a jerk. 'This piece,' he exclaimed excitedly, holding the particular scrap up to the light, 'mentions me!' He glanced across at Imago, a slight waver in his voice. ''If my son, Will, had, it says!' With a puzzled expression, he flicked it over to check the reverse side but found it was blank. 'But what did Dad mean? What didn't I do? What was I meant to do?' Will again looked to Imago for help.