16

The Voice in the Glass

The knife shone more brightly as they approached the platform. Gafferty stepped on to the black table of rock, the pink glow reflected in its polished surface. She noticed it wasn’t entirely flat. There was a pile of rubble at one end. A stone structure of some kind had either been broken or collapsed there. Perhaps it had been a statue.

‘Your knife is putting on quite a show,’ observed Willoughby. Spots of light emerged from the blade and orbited Gafferty’s hand, as if the knife were on fire, but Gafferty felt no heat. Just an odd tingling sensation that ran through her.

‘It has a connection to this place,’ she said. She held the weapon up like a torch. ‘I feel like it’s trying to tell me something. I’m sure it was trying to protect Gobkin and me from the monster. I thought it had a personality the first time I touched it. But there’s more to it than that. There’s some power in it.’

As she spoke, she heard words that were not her own. There was another voice: she knew it was coming from the knife and yet the sounds echoed inside her head. The words didn’t make any sense. It was as if she were listening to fragments of a conversation broken into pieces.

‘Can you hear that?’ she said.

‘What?’ Willoughby stared at her.

‘That … that sound. A voice. It’s faded now. I think it was from the knife. Couldn’t you hear it?’

‘I didn’t hear anything.’ Willoughby’s eyes narrowed. He thinks I’m mad, Gafferty thought.

The knife-light suddenly changed colour, switching to dark purple. It cast deep shadows throughout the cavern, black, gaunt shapes creeping and skulking across the walls, cavorting in the silence. Gafferty was aware she could hear herself breathing – short, nervous gasps – and felt a chill run down her spine, as if her bones were being prodded by spikes of ice. It was too silent. Was there someone there? Had the smoke monsters followed them?

She spun around, scanning the chamber, but the rapid movement of the knife only made the shadows dance faster, the silhouettes rising and falling in a frenzy. Animal shapes, savage creatures with many limbs and snarling mouths, all twirling and swaying together. Dragons danced with serpents, wolves with giants.

‘Stop!’ Willoughby’s hand grabbed her wrist, halting her mid-spin. The dancers paused, their soundless music ended. ‘What are you doing?’ His voice was shaky. She was scaring him.

‘I thought there was something there,’ she whispered. ‘I felt like I was being watched.’

Willoughby stepped away from the platform. He looked around nervously.

‘I don’t see anything.’

He was right. There was nothing to see. Only shadows.

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s go.’

Gafferty reluctantly turned to follow him but her eye caught a twitch of movement. One shadow had stirred. By itself.

She turned back, missed her footing in her haste and fell from the platform straight into the back of Willoughby.

‘Watch out!’ he said, elbowing her away.

‘I saw something move! At least, I think I did.’ They both glanced behind them. Everything was still.

‘There’s nothing there.’ Willoughby was cross now. ‘We haven’t got time for this weirdness. I thought you wanted help.’

Yes, Gobkin, Gafferty thought. He was all that mattered now. She needed to focus. She didn’t have time for magical talking cutlery and imaginary shadow things. She nodded guiltily.

They hurried from the chamber, Gafferty risking a last look behind her. Whatever she had seen, or thought she had seen, it was gone, although the fear, the sense of being watched, didn’t leave her until they had passed through an archway at the chamber’s edge. As she tucked the knife in her belt, its colour returned to pink, the light dimming with every step.

They walked in silence for a few minutes before her curiosity got the better of her.

‘The symbols on the skirting board,’ she asked, as they followed another tunnel. ‘Do you know what they mean?’

‘Not really,’ Willoughby said grumpily. ‘Though I’ve seen the second triangle in several places at the Roost.’

‘I think they stand for the three clans of Smidgens.’ She brought out the atlas and showed him the book’s cover. The knife still gave enough light to see the pages. She turned to the page with the Smidgenmoot. ‘This book can show me all the routes of the Tangle. See? Here’s the tunnel we’re walking through.’

‘I don’t know anything about any clans,’ said Willoughby, ignoring the atlas and walking on. ‘There’s only ever been us in the Roost. We don’t use the tunnels much. I know of the Tangle but never been into it beyond this bit. It’s not allowed.’

These Smidgens have a lot of things that aren’t allowed, thought Gafferty. That’s not how Gafferty Sprout does things.

‘I guess that’s why I’ve never seen any other Smidgens in the Tangle,’ she said. ‘If you’re scared of it.’

‘We’re not scared.’ He shot her a look. He was annoyed but still uneasy. ‘It’s being sensible. It’s dangerous in here. We’re near the very centre of it, the darkest part. Don’t you know there are bad things hiding in there? You must have heard the stories. And anyway, we have a better way of getting about.’

‘Your so-called wings? You don’t really fly, do you?’ Gafferty couldn’t quite believe it. Smidgens belonged underground, not up in the air with the birds.

‘You’re very argumentative for someone who wants to make new friends,’ Willoughby remarked drily.

Gafferty bit her lip. She wasn’t used to talking to people outside her family. She could say what she felt to the other Sprouts and knew they would give as good as they got. But it wasn’t going to work with everyone.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m only interested. It’s so strange to think of other Smidgens out there, other Smidgens doing things differently to the way I’ve always been taught.’

‘It’s fine,’ he said, although he still sounded irritable. ‘I’m sure your own way of doing things works for wherever it is you live.’

‘In the House – here.’ She turned to the page in the atlas showing her home. ‘See, it has the other triangle symbol.’ Then she flicked back to the page showing the tower with the upside-down triangle next to it. ‘Is that where we’re going?’ she asked, showing it to the boy.

‘Yes – that’s the Roost. Maybe you’re right about the symbols.’

‘I don’t remember ever seeing a building like this in the town, or at least in the parts I visited with my mum and dad.’

He smiled. It was the first time she’d seen him smile. It suited him.

‘It looks different now,’ he said. ‘You’ll see.’

The tunnel had climbed back up to street level, as Gafferty soon discovered. It ended in a doorway that opened into a shallow drain, running under the surface of the road. They clambered out of the drain grille and into the street, busy with people coming out of work. They would have to keep their wits about them, as there were lots of quick, trampling feet to avoid. But on the upside, no one was paying attention to anything other than getting home. The two Smidgens dashed across the pavement and stopped behind a rubbish bin.

‘I’ve not been here before,’ Gafferty said. ‘Do we have to go much further?’

‘Nope – this is it,’ said Willoughby. ‘This is where we live.’

The building that stood before them was many storeys high and ran the length of the street. Everything about it was meant to impress. From the engraved stone columns on either side of the wide doors, to the large windows framed by rich velvet curtains, to the huge, illuminated sign that hung over them.

‘Hotel,’ Gafferty read. ‘You live here? It’s the biggest Big Folk building I’ve ever seen! What do the Big Folk do in it?’

‘They sleep and eat in it. It’s a place for Big Folk from other towns to stay in when they visit this town.’

Gafferty gaped at him.

‘There are other towns? Other Big Folk towns?’

He grinned.

‘Didn’t you know? There are lots of other towns. Hundreds probably. And lots and lots of other Big Folk.’

Gafferty put her hand against the bin to steady herself. It had never occurred to her that there might be places outside the town she knew – it was so enormous already! The Big Book of Big Folk Facts had never said anything about this! Did Mum and Dad know? Did those towns have Smidgens too? There wasn’t time to take it all in. She’d have to think about this revelation later. Willoughby was pointing to the far end of the hotel.

‘We only live in that one bit of it. Down there.’

The hotel was old and grand but Gafferty realised the structure attached to its end was much older, with a wall built from large, irregular stones. This circular wall had a conical roof at its top with one large window. It was like a very ancient stone rocket had been stuck on to the oblong of the main building.

‘The tower in the atlas!’ Gafferty said.

‘That’s it. In ancient times the Big Folk used it as a lookout tower, to protect the town from marauding invaders – from other towns. Now it’s just a stairwell, a fire exit. The Roost is hidden inside.’

‘So, you fly there. On your wings.’

He laughed.

‘Normally. But as I don’t have any wings, I’m afraid we’re going to have to go in by the front door.’