9

Billy was transfixed by the scene before him. Large stalagmites rose from the cavern floor and stalactites hung from the high ceiling. Some met in the middle, creating milky white columns that seemed to glow in the gloom.

The wall opposite was dotted with dark holes, like a huge slab of cheese. Inside were cushions and blankets, and he guessed each hole must be a tiny bedroom. It all looked so welcoming after the darkness of the tunnels, and he immediately felt reassured.

A long, rickety table stood in the centre of the cavern with about ten other night-children sat around it – a couple were peeling potatoes; others chopping cabbages, and one small girl seemed to be fixing the workings of a large, rusty clock. All of them were grey-skinned with large eyes, and wore long habits, just like the lines of children Billy had seen marching along the cell block landings.

‘Welcome to our lair. My name’s Lightning,’ said the girl. She was still holding his hand and Billy self-consciously pulled it free. Then, indicating the boys who had helped rescue him, she added, ‘And this is Ace and Dusty. You’ll soon get to know the other Runners.’

‘Hi,’ said Ace, with a friendly grin. He had a smiling, freckled face and looked a little older than the others, but it was Lightning who was definitely in charge.

‘Runners?’ said Billy, perplexed.

‘We escaped from the cells, just like you, and we call ourselves the Runners,’ said Lightning. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Billy,’ said Billy. He realized everyone was staring at him, and he suddenly felt awkward under their silent gaze. His cheeks started to blush with colour.

‘Are you ’ungry?’ asked a boy. He had a shrill voice and an incredibly grubby face.

Billy nodded. His adventures had made him famished. ‘You bet. I could eat a horse, um – what’s your name?’

‘You can call me Grubby,’ said the boy. ‘Everyone else does.’

Billy sat down at the table and Grubby brought him a bowl of thick potato soup, dished up from a deep pot over a roaring fire.

‘It’s not an ’orse, but it should fill yer up!’ he said with a chuckle, and when Billy looked up to say thanks, he found all the Runners staring back at him with wide friendly grins. He began to feel a little more confident.

‘Thanks for rescuing me,’ he said between spoonfuls of delicious soup.

‘That’s OK. It’s what we do,’ said Lightning.

‘But how did you know where I was?’

‘We didn’t! We were out scavenging, looking for food and stuff, when we heard the bellowing of a snuffler. We knew someone must be in trouble so we came running.’

‘The snufflers were after you?’ asked Grubby, with a shudder. ‘I hate them things – they chase me through all my worst nightmares.’

‘It’s horrible dreams about witches that make me wake up screaming,’ said the small girl who had been working on the old clock, her squeaky voice shaking with fear.

‘The fortress is teeming with terrible creatures, and each one is somebody’s worst nightmare,’ explained Lightning. ‘Like witches for Compass there, and snufflers for Grubby. You were lucky we got to you when we did, otherwise you’d have been hauled before the Magician.’

At the mention of a magician, a spasm of fear jolted Billy. ‘Who’s he?’ he asked, his voice suddenly dry and croaky, but he already knew the answer. It had to be the terrifying figure he’d glimpsed in the Bright Room.

‘He’s the supreme ruler of this whole dark world. This is his fortress, and all the other creatures are just his lowly minions,’ said Lightning, her eyes as clear and bright as two new marbles. ‘They keep the night-children under control, doing the Magician’s bidding.’

‘Yeah, they force the kids to build more rooms and higher towers to the fortress, but the Magician is never satisfied. He always wants more,’ said Ace. ‘It’s a back-breaking job, and it never ever ends.’

‘Blimey!’ murmured Billy, realizing what had been in store for him if he hadn’t managed to escape.

‘We’re better off than most, though. At least we know we don’t come from here,’ said Lightning, pursing her lips in thought. ‘All the other night-children think this fortress is their real home! Their brains have been frazzled by the Magician’s magic – we escaped before the Bright Room fully changed us. We got chatting amongst ourselves and planned our escape. We broke out of the cells and ended up here.’

‘So, why haven’t you gone home?’ asked Billy, utterly astonished.

‘Home?!’

‘Yes, why—’

‘Don’t you think we would if we could?’ snapped Lightning, and Billy saw tears well up in her large, luminous eyes. ‘Course we would. We can get out and go into the town – but none of us can remember where our real home is, or what it was like. We can’t even remember our proper names!’

‘Oh! Sorry,’ mumbled Billy, feeling terrible. There was an awkward silence as the Runners stared into space, lost in their own thoughts.

‘What about you,’ Grubby asked him, breaking the silence at last. He wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve, leaving a new streak of dirt on his cheek. ‘Can you remember anything about your ’ome?’

‘Well, yes … I can,’ said Billy cautiously, not sure how they would react.

‘Oh, really? And what makes you so different?’ asked Ace, a little belligerently.

Billy shrugged. ‘I dunno,’ he said. ‘But I reckon it’s got something to do with this.’ And he took out his pocket watch and laid it on the table.

‘Oh, wow,’ said Lightning, her large eyes shining with wonder. ‘That’s amazing. What does it do?’

‘Well, my dad said it would protect me,’ said Billy. ‘But I don’t know how it works.’

‘Mind if I …?’ asked Compass, excitedly reaching for the watch.

‘Help yourself,’ said Billy.

Compass snapped the back off the watch and unscrewed the top plate. ‘Let’s have a look at its workings,’ she said. But when she lifted the plate, there was nothing inside the watch at all. No cogs or springs or wheels. ‘I think your dad must’ve been having you on,’ she said. ‘This couldn’t work in a month of Sundays.’

Billy was shocked. ‘But it does go – I’ve seen the hands move,’ he said. ‘And I do remember my home, and how I got here too.’

‘Really?’ said Lightning, her nose creasing in disbelief.

‘Sure – I got home from school one day and my house was deserted, except for a trapped jackdaw—’

‘Jackdaws are some of the Magician’s familiars,’ interrupted Lightning earnestly.

‘It attacked me, and when I rushed outside everything was dark,’ continued Billy. ‘If I can only retrace my steps and get back inside my house, I’m sure things will return to normal.’

‘Yeah, right,’ muttered a Runner with long cornrowed hair.

‘It’s true,’ insisted Billy, and he told them all about his home and his mum and dad and the school he went to. The Runners couldn’t believe their ears, and a ripple of excitement passed through them.

‘If we came with you and got into your real life, do you think we would get home too? Back to our own real lives?’ asked Lightning.

‘I don’t know, but it’s got to be worth a try, hasn’t it?’ said Billy.

Compass squeaked with excitement.

‘There’s a problem, though – my house is locked up tight. I tried to get back inside, but it was impossible,’ Billy explained.

‘Don’t worry about that,’ smiled Ace. ‘I’m an expert lock-picker, and there isn’t a door I ’aven’t managed to open yet!’

‘Brilliant. What are we waiting for – let’s go now!’ said Billy jumping to his feet, hardly able to contain himself. Compass and Nipper, her friend with the cornrowed hair, were carried away on a wave of excitement too, and began to chant.

‘We’re going home, we’re going home,’ they sang.

Then, pausing to think for a moment, Compass asked, ‘But what if we get back to our real world and still can’t remember where our own houses are? What if it’s nowhere near our homes at all?’

‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,’ said Lightning. ‘Let’s escape from this dark place first.’ She turned to Billy and gave him a serious look. ‘You’re sure about this, Billy?’ she asked. ‘It’s dangerous going out into the town, and we need to be sure it’s worth the risk.’

‘I’m sure,’ said Billy, though he wasn’t feeling as confident as he sounded.

‘Excellent! So where do you live?’

‘On Merlin Place, up on the ridge above the park.’

‘Then our best route will be through the badgers’ sett,’ she said. ‘It will take us to the far side of town.’

‘Hold on,’ said Ace. ‘Don’t you think Billy should change out of those weird clothes first?’

Billy looked at his sweatshirt and jeans. ‘Weird?’ he asked.

‘He’s right. The watch creatures are always on the lookout for Runners, and in those clothes you’ll stand out like a sore thumb. Get him a gown, Grubby,’ said Lightning.

Grubby dragged an old night-child’s gown from a chest in the corner, and Billy pulled it on over his clothes. It was heavy and felt rather itchy, even through his sweatshirt.

‘OK?’ he asked, feeling slightly daft.

‘Perfect,’ said Lightning. ‘Now, let’s go.’

Billy followed Lightning to a corner of the cave where a flight of rough-hewn steps led further down into the ground. Jiggling with nervous energy the Runners pushed and jostled behind him.

‘We’re going home, we’re going home,’ chanted Compass again.

‘Sshh!’ ordered Lightning. ‘Everyone keep your noise down.’

The Magician, a brooding, swirling dark fog, was in his apartment at the top of the great fortress’s keep. Across the table stood a werehound, one of his elite guards. It was a fearsome creature with wild eyes set in shaggy, matted fur that had moulted in great chunks, leaving the top part of its muzzle bare to the bone. In front of the Magician, though, the werehound cowered like a street mongrel.

‘Gone?’ enquired the Magician in a menacing whisper, his misty shape ballooning upwards to loom threateningly over the hound before sinking back again.

‘Yes, s-sir. S-sorry, sir,’ whimpered the hound. ‘The witches nearly caught him, but – waaooow! – he got away.’

‘Who was looking after him?’ asked the Magician, and the air around him rumbled like thunder.

‘Grrr-Rickett, sir,’ said the werehound, shaking uncontrollably.

‘Punish him,’ the Magician hissed, his shifting dark shape sparking and flashing with energy. ‘Punish him now!’

CRACK! A bolt of lightning zipped across the room and sent the hound scurrying out of the door.

On his own again, the Magician’s vaporous shape became focused, solidifying into a towering, angular man with a face as hard and sharp as a hatchet. With a scowl he opened the ledger on his desk and ran a finger down the margin. 5126 – so, it was that child again. Despite his best efforts, the quivering wretch had still not conformed. Just like the others it was fear that had brought him here, and if anything, his fear was stronger than most – but his spirit had not been broken. He still remembered too much.

Why was that – what made him tick?

The Magician smashed his fist onto the table and hissed like a giant serpent. 5126 must be recaptured, and then he would be taught a lesson he would never forget. He needed all the night-children’s sad and pathetic fears, but now, more than ever, he wanted this child’s fear. With a grin of pure malice, he dissolved back into the darkness.