Book Two. World Below

1

The passage was not even, but dipped down at irregular intervals, sometimes crossing water, sometimes narrowing to a cleft through which Maddy had to squeeze to pass through. By inverting the runes, she had closed the mouth of the tunnel behind her, and now the rune Bjarkán at her fingertips was her only means of penetrating the darkness.

After some minutes, however, she found that the passageway had broadened a little and that its earth walls had begun to give way to a hard, almost glassy surface. It was rock, Maddy realized as she moved deeper into the hillside; some kind of dark and shiny mineral, its surface occasionally broken by a crystalline outcrop that shone like a cluster of needles.

After half an hour the floor too had mostly changed to the same glassy rock, and sheets of phosphorescence powdered the walls, so that the way was softly illuminated.

And there were color-signatures everywhere, like skeins of spiderweb, too many to count or to identify. Many of these showed the remnants of magic-cantrips and glamours and workings and runes-as easy to see as wagon tracks on a muddy road.

She cast ýr, the Protector, to keep herself hidden, but even so she was sure that among so many workings she must have set off a few alarms. Uncomfortably she considered what kind of spider might live in such an intricate web, and her mind returned to One-Eye, and to the person-friend or enemy-he feared, who might be lying in wait at the heart of the Hill.

What was she looking for? she wondered. And what did One-Eye know of any treasure of the Elder Age?

Well, she told herself, there was only one way to find out, and the simple fact of being under the Hill was thrilling enough-for the moment, at least. She wondered how far downward the passage led, but even as she did so, she felt the ground drop abruptly at her feet, and without further warning the narrow walls at either side of her opened to reveal a huge underground canyon, broadening out far beyond Maddy’s field of vision into a labyrinth of tunnels and a vastness of caverns and halls.

For a long time Maddy could do nothing but watch and wonder. The passage had come to a sharp stairway cut into the rock face; this led downward into a vast gallery, occasionally intersecting with other walkways and cavern entrances set at intervals down the canyon walls, with what seemed to be suspended catwalks, illuminated by torches or hanging lanterns, on the distant far side.

Maddy had expected a single cave, maybe even a single passage. Instead there were hundreds-no, thousands-of caves and passages. From the bottom of the canyon came a sound of water, and although it was too dark-in spite of the lanterns-to see the river itself, Maddy guessed it to be broad and fast-moving; its voice was like that of a wolf with a throatful of rocks.

Here too there were spells and signatures, there were green fingers of phosphorescence, nuggets of mica studded the walls, and wherever there was a trickle of water against the rock, musky flowers cast their tendrils: the pale, sad lilies of World Below.

“Gods,” said Maddy. “Where do I start?”

Well, to begin with, more light. Raising her hand, she cast Sól-the sun-so that her fingertips blazed and the tiny crystals embedded in the steps and walls flared with sudden brilliance.

It was not nearly enough to light the vastness ahead, but even so, she felt a little better, if only because there was less chance of her falling down the stairway. At the same time, she thought she caught sight of something at her elbow, something that shrank quickly into the shadows as her light shone out, and, almost without thinking, she cast Naudr like a net and pulled it in with a flick of her fingers.

“You again!” she exclaimed when she saw what she had caught.

The goblin spat but could not escape.

“Stop that!” said Maddy, drawing the rune a little tighter.

The goblin pulled a face but kept still.

“That’s better,” said Maddy. “Now, Smá-rakki”-the goblin made a pff! sound-“I want you to stay right here with me. No slinking off this time, do you understand?”

“Pff!” said the goblin again. “All this fuss for a nip of ale.” All the same, he did not move but glared at Maddy with his amber eyes, lips drawn back over his pointed teeth.

“Why were you following me?”

The goblin shrugged. “Curiosity, kennet?”

Maddy laughed. “Plus, I know your name.”

The goblin said nothing, but his eyes gleamed.

“A named thing is a tamed thing. That’s it, isn’t it?”

Still the goblin said nothing.

Maddy smiled at the unexpected piece of luck. She was not sure how long her control over him would last, but if she could have an ally-however reluctant-in World Below, then maybe her task would be a simpler one. “Now listen to me, Smá-rakki-”

“They call me Sugar,” said the goblin sullenly.

“What?”

“Sugar. You deaf? Short for Sugar-and-Sack. Well? You don’t think any of us go round tellin’ folk our real names, do you?”

“Sugar-and-Sack?” repeated Maddy.

Sugar scowled. “Gødfolk names are like that,” he said. “Sugar-and-Sack, Peck-in-the-Crown, Pickle-Nearest-the-Wind. I don’t go round laughin’ at your name, do I?”

“Sorry. Sugar,” said Maddy, trying to keep a straight face.

“Right. No harm done,” said Sugar with dignity. “Now, what exactly can I do you for?”

Maddy leaned closer. “I need a guide.”

“You need yer bleedin’ head seein’ to,” said the goblin. “The minute the Captain learns you’re here-”

“Then you’ll have to make sure he doesn’t,” she said. “Now, I can’t possibly find my way around this place on my own-”

“Look,” said the goblin, “if it’s the ale you’re after, then I can get it back, no trouble-”

“It isn’t the ale,” said Maddy.

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “But you’re going to help me find it.”

It took some minutes to convince Sugar that he had no choice. But goblins are simple creatures, and he was not blind to the fact that the sooner Maddy had what she wanted, the sooner she would be out of his way.

However, he was clearly very much in awe of the individual he called the Captain, and Maddy soon realized that it would be best if she did not confront her new ally with too great a conflict of loyalties.

“So who is he, this captain of yours?”

The goblin sniffed and looked away.

“Oh, come on, Sugar. He must have a name.”

“Course he has.”

“Well?”

The goblin shrugged expressively. It was a shrug that began at the tips of his furry ears and went all the way down to his clawed feet, making every link of his chain mail shiver.

“Call him Sky Trekker, if you like, or Wildfire, or Crookmouth, or Hawk-Eye, or Dogstar. Call him Airy, call him Wary-”

“Not his nicknames, Sugar. His real name.”

The goblin made a face. “You think he’d tell me?”

For a while Maddy thought hard. One-Eye had warned her that he might not be the only one with interests under the Hill, and the webwork of glamours she had encountered on her way in confirmed his suspicions. But the goblins’ captain-most likely a goblin himself, or maybe a big cave-troll-could he be the one of which her friend had spoken? It seemed unlikely-no goblin had woven those spells.

Still, she thought, it was worth finding out more about this captain person and any threat he might represent. But Sugar was annoyingly vague; his attention span was catlike at the best of times, and as soon as the conversation turned to details of where, why, and how, he simply lost interest.