‘That soon cleared up.’ Emma Townsend peered from the kitchen window as the last of the dark clouds passed overhead. ‘Funny little storm. All over in no time.’
‘That’ll be the opposite of “mainly”,’ Frank said. ‘The weather bloke said it’ll be “mainly fine”, so that must be the other bit. And speaking of funny little storms ...’
Alice swung into the drive and pulled up outside. She got out of her car slowly, then gently closed the door, as if there was someone sleeping inside that she didn’t want to disturb. As she headed for the house, she held out the key and pressed a button on it. The car gave a chirp and flashed its lights.
‘She’s locking it,’ Em said.
‘Smart move. There’s some pretty dodgy cows round here.’
‘Ssshh!’ Em said.
‘Hi Em. Hello Frank.’
‘You sound like you’ve had a good day,’ Em said.
‘Yes, I have rather.’
‘Been shopping?’ Em nodded out the window. There was something on the back seat under an old blanket.
‘Oh ... just an old birdcage I picked up in town.’
‘Birdcage?’
‘Mmm. It’s a bit tatty at the moment. Needs cleaning up and painting.’
‘I didn’t think you liked caged birds.’
‘No, no you ... put plants and things in them. For interior decoration. They’re all the rage right now.’
‘Did you speak to that reporter?’
‘She’s gone away. To Fox Glacier. Might be back tomorrow.’
‘Will you talk to her then?’
‘I might. I’m ... still thinking about it. Shall I put the kettle on?’
‘We’ve just had a cuppa, but help yourself.’ Em glanced out the window. ‘Oh look at Smudge. Straight up on your bonnet. It must be the warmth of the engine.’
Alice let out a squawk, slammed the kettle down and raced out.
‘Nooooo! No Smudge. Off. Get off. Go! Scat!’
‘What on earth is wrong with her?’
‘I gave up asking that question years ago,’ Frank said.
* * *
A droplet of water ran down the wall. The movement caught Coral’s eye. It was followed by another. She turned to investigate, then Norman’s voice said, ‘Hey, hear that?’
‘What? I don’t hear anything.’
‘Exactly. The tunneller’s stopped. Either it’s broken down or it’s broken through.’
They paused and listened. He was right. There was no more steady build-up whine, no static pause, no phmmm.
They raced back to check. Ludokrus led the way and let out a whoop of joy. ‘Can see the daylight. Look. She is through! Now all we need is time for her to cool.’
‘How long?’
Coral and Norman sighted along the sides of the cutter, peering at a small circle of sky and shifting clouds at the far end.
‘Rock is still red hot, but the new air will help. Half-hour, maybe.’
‘We’d better get back to finding the others then.’
They headed back down, their steps lighter, their mood brighter, three torch beams playing over the bottom of the mineshaft. They walked side by side, then stopped mid-stride.
‘What the heck?’ Coral muttered.
* * *
The pink glow continued beneath the surface of the water. At least it wasn’t dark, Tim thought. Maybe drowning wouldn’t be so bad.
Alkemy’s head bumped against him, her hair swirling round him in the half-light. How much did she know of their predicament? How much was she aware of through her pain and the anaesthetic fungus? Not much, he hoped. And soon her suffering would be over.
He felt like crying out at the injustice of it all, like yelling one last defiant insult at the Sentinels, but fought it back, holding his breath as long as possible.
Alkemy’s head bumped him again. He touched her. The skin of her cheek was still warm. He wanted to tell her he was sorry he’d broken his promise, that he hadn’t been able to get her out after all.
Silvery strands of hair drifted past his face, clouding the cold clear water.
Her hair.
She didn’t wear it loose. She brushed and tied it back, securing the wispy bits at the sides with clips. The recollection of her doing so that morning in the caravan came flooding back to him; Alkemy brushing her hair and pinning it back.
Pinning it back.
With clips.
Hair clips!
He scrambled frantically, tugging at her hair until he found one of them. It was tangled in a swirling knot, took precious seconds to work loose. A doubled-over piece of wire with blobs of resin on each end to blunt the sharp points. He straightened it, bit on one end, and dragged it through his teeth to remove the resin.
It jerked free and he dropped it.
He wasted precious seconds, torn between diving down to try to find it or searching out another one. Forcing himself to ignore his clumsiness, he resumed combing his fingers through her hair.
There! Another one! Careful now ...
He repeated the process as his breath strained to escape, his body wailing that he had to breathe. He held on. Focussed on his task. Straightened and cleaned the wire, then swam back in search of the pinhole.
It was a tight fit, but it was his last chance. He pushed it in. Hard.
A centimetre in, it struck something. Resistance. He pushed harder, jamming the other end into the palm of his hand, breaking the skin. But he didn’t feel a thing because the rock wall in front of him slid silently away.
For one absurd moment it seemed like it had been a waste of time. The door vanished, but the force field still held things in place. He remembered pushing through it from mineshaft. Like battling a strong wind. He could see through it. Could see what looked like the faces of his friends gawping at him. The view a fish must have from inside its bowl.
Then the pressure grew too much, the force field collapsed, and he and Alkemy tumbled out in a cascade of water.