"We must hurry!" said Roberta desperately.
We had no choice, and so we strode into the diggings with no regard for our own safety. There were tools stacked against the walls, and fortunately there were flickering oil lanterns to illuminate the way, the glass in the frames dirty and stained. I wondered why there were not gas lights instead, but then I imagined the danger if one should go out. The tunnels would fill with explosive fumes, which would be ignited by the first train to pass by.
Then we rounded a bend, and I saw a patch of ghostly light ahead. Three phantasms were drifting along the tunnel, heading away from us, and they bore the professor's life spirit between them. Beyond, further around the corner, a dull red glow lit the tunnel. "Do you see them?" I asked Roberta.
"I do indeed," she muttered grimly, and she tightened her grip on the sword.
We caught up, moving as quickly and as silently as possible, and more details were revealed to us. There was something wrong with the life force they carried, for instead of a gleaming, coalescing ball of vital energy, it was weak and dull. It seemed a life force could not survive long outside of the host body, and vice versa.
"They're killing him," growled Roberta. "I must put an end to this."
"That weapon alone will not stop them," I said. "In the warehouse, I had to add power from your cousin's machine to defeat the phantasms attacking us."
She stopped dead and looked at me. "Could you not have mentioned this a little earlier? At times, Septimus, I really do wonder about you."
"I'm sorry, I—"
"No matter. Help me with the things."
We placed the knapsacks on the ground, and Roberta used the light of a nearby lantern to dig out the items she needed. A handful of metal discs, the trap with its suspended cylinder, and the small glass vial with its stopper… she placed them in a line, then retrieved a tool with a bulbous handle and wide jaws at both ends. Finally, she took out the net made from copper wire.
"Do you think those will work?" I asked.
"I believe you will have your answer a few minutes from now." Roberta gathered the items and stood. "Leave the rest here," she told me.
I took the net and the discs, and we set off after the spirits. They were drifting slowly along the tunnel, following a gentle curve to the right. Ahead of them was that baleful red glow, and as we got closer I turned to Roberta. "Where do you think they're taking your father?"
"They are not taking him anywhere," she said firmly. "Even if I must stand my own body in the way."
"Yes, but—" I gestured towards the glow. "What lies around the corner? Do you think it is the men at the tunnel face?" Even as I asked the question, I knew it could not be so. The red light was like the gleam of an open furnace, not the flickering yellow of candles and lanterns.
"It's possible that light shines from a rift," said Roberta slowly. "A gateway between worlds, like those which the attractor devices created. You recall the glimpse of a hellish domain, with countless spirits striving to pass through?"
I shuddered, for the memory of the red demons was still fresh. Then I saw the error in her argument. "But Edgar's machine was on the surface, and here we are below ground. Are you suggesting there is another of those devices in the underground tunnels?"
"No." Roberta indicated the ceiling, ten or fifteen feet above. "I'm suggesting we are somewhere beneath the warehouse, and that the red glow ahead of us may be positioned directly beneath."
"So even now, more of those foul demons might be gathering around the corner?"
"At this moment they are not our concern, for I plan to save my father first," said Roberta firmly. "If there is a greater evil beneath the streets of London, we will need his help to defeat it, for you and I cannot hope to prevail on our own. For that we shall need powerful weapons, stronger equipment, and every ounce of knowledge my father possesses."
By now the spirits were just ahead, and they'd just detected our approach. Two of them turned to meet us, while the third continued onwards with its prize. "We will capture them quickly," said Roberta. "Unfurl the netting, and do not let those spirits touch you!"
I did as I was told, while Roberta set the trap on the ground and inserted a fresh, empty cylinder. Then she took the discs, and with a series of overarm throws she placed them neatly ahead of the spirit carrying her father's life force. When it reached the discs it came to a stop, turning uncertainly from side to side. Roberta took one end of the net, and we took several paces away from each other, stretching it out. Then we advanced towards the pair of spirits nearest to us, the net held between us at the height of our waists.
They reversed direction, gliding backwards towards their companion, their features stretching into distorted caricatures of human faces. One moment they appeared to be elderly ladies, and the next one of them was a crying child while the other was a middle-aged man with whiskers. But no matter which face they presented, their eyes were black, bottomless pits.
We were still driving the spirits backwards towards the line of discs, which lay in the dirt at various angles. Some of these discs reflected the weak light from the oil lamps nearby, while the finely traced lines on the rest gleamed at me from the shadows. They had powers though, that was undeniable, for the retreating spirits came to a halt as though they'd encountered an invisible barrier. Roberta and I continued to approach, and now she unstoppered the small glass bottle with her teeth and threw
