Chapter 24
Down The Chute
Slipping sideways through the open gate, I run lightly over to the left wall before pressing myself into the shadows, then scuttle from pillar to pillar keeping Fongel at a safe distance.
The corridor is about as wide as two ogres, or four people. The ceiling is low, Fongel’s head almost scraping against it as he heads further down into the rock, singing tunelessly, “Down in the depths, Choosing 1-2-3, Where you sit,” he slaps his bottom, “Leads to Sabotini.”
I narrow my eyes, heartbeat rising. Detective Atkins of the Dragon Robbery Squad has found some major information. Or it might just be a stupid song. I slide my phone from my pocket and write the words down. You never know.
Fongel turns left down a side corridor and I sneak after him, slipping through shadows and hiding behind pillars, my heart racing with the danger and excitement of it all.
Full ninja mode. I hear the thought in Josh’s voice.
This corridor has evenly spaced doors all down its left side, each about two metres apart. Most are closed but Fongel stops at the first open one. I press myself flat against the wall and ease along to behind the next pillar then peek around. Inside the room, two ogres are polishing a set of nasty looking spikes. Another is mopping something gooey from the floor.
Looks like I made the right choice coming this way.
“Alright chaps,” Fongel says jovially.
“Alright Fongel,” comes a chorused reply.
It seems like there’s more ogres in there than just three. My pulse knocks against my wrist like an angry woodpecker.
Fongel points in the room. “What happened here then Bungo?”
“This is where Sir Denby, or should I say Sir Dinner!” A chorus of snuffly laughter comes from the room. “Got mangled. Dragged poor old Huldo down with him though.”
A chorus of ‘bad knight’ comes from the room.
Fongel sniffs. “You hear about Barty?”
“Aye!” the rest cry. “Shame Sabotini can’t put Huldo back together.”
“No chance,” Fongel says. “Barty got lucky. But we’ll eat well tonight.”
A chorus of hoorays and ‘I hope it’s Spag Bol’ come from the room.
Fongel grins. “See you later chaps.” He pulls the door closed then heads off down the corridor whistling as tunefully as a boiling kettle.
I grit my teeth and follow him through the passageway beneath the maze, wondering if it might’ve been better to have a plan before I came down here. I guess there must be a way through, otherwise where’s Fongel going?
He stops at another door and beats his huge fist against it. Footsteps flap before the door creaks open, and an ogre bigger and uglier than Fongel pokes his head out. “Yous late Fongel.”
Fongel spreads his arms wide. “Had to fix the gate, din I. That lazy turd Finkel didn’t help none neither.”
“Yous always late Fongel. One more time I’ll be off to see King Humfdoodle, see what he thinks.”
I almost gasp and quickly clamp a hand over my mouth.
Humfdoodle is here.
Fongel stares at his feet. “Sorry, Gracko.”
He moves out the way so the other troll can exit then steps inside.
I go really still, muscles frozen, hoping Gracko won’t come this way. Fortunately, he turns and heads off down the corridor.
Fongel’s head appears out the door. “Why you going that way?”
Gracko bares his teeth. “Might be off to King Humfdoodle’s chamber, have a look see if any knights managed to get down the tunnel to Sabotini’s Lair.” He tilts his head from side to side. “Or I might be off to grass you up.”
A buzz passes down my spine. I think I’m on the right track.
Fongel wrings his hands together. “Come on buddy. Dunt snitch on me. How’s about I come earlier next time?”
“Yous said that last time.”
Fongel shrugs and Gracko lets out a huge guffaw that echoes down the corridor. “I ain’t no grass Fongel, I’m just gonna take the scenic route to the canteen. Enjoy your shift.”
“Get any?”
“Not this time. But I pounded a knight jus’ yesterday. Come screaming as he dropped down into me pit, he did. Loads of ‘em around at the moment. I wonder what’s goin’ on up top.”
Fongel looks left and right down the corridor before speaking. “I heard the Fae is after her eye an’ that’s why old Sabotini’s been calling us all here. I answered her call. Hates the Fae I do.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Gracko sniggers. “I came cos she pays well. Now get, otherwise I will tell Humfypoos.”
“Maybe I’ll tell him you call him Humfypoos.”
“You wunna dare.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Fongel slams the door shut. Gracko’s laugh echoes down the corridor then he turns and walks away.
I flatten myself against the wall and breathe, let Gracko’s footsteps fade away. When all I can hear is the sound of my own breathing I slip out from behind the pillar and move slowly down the corridor keeping to the right-hand side, away from the doors.
The further I go, the darker it gets. My stomach stirs but I push the feeling away. Got no time for that now. I need to get to Sabotini’s Lair and see if I can use my fantasy knowledge to talk her into plucking Alice out of Limbo. Need to find something to bargain with. But what? I’ve got an ice bun, a water skin, a broken dream catcher and my phone in the bag. Never heard of dragons being interested in any of those things.
I fall sideways and land heavily on my knees. “Ow,” I whisper. “Where did the wall go?” Firelight creeps along the walls from above showing that I’ve dropped into another side passage. There’s steps leading upwards and something scrawled on the wall opposite me. I move closer and peer at it:
Humfdoodle’s Throne Room
No Entry Without Being Asked
DO NOT DISTURB WHEN
MAIMING, MASHING, OR BASHING
I take a deep breath. This is it, B. This is the end of level two. Just the boss fight to go. I slip the rubber safety cap off my foil, tuck the cap into my pocket and tiptoe up the stairs. A huge roaring sound stops me cold. It’s rhythmic and snuffly and I don’t even want to know what’s making it. But I guess I’m going to find out. With each step the roaring gets louder, then suddenly stops. There’s a noise like the smacking of lips, a mutter and then the roar begins again.
A tingle of hope runs through me. Dad snores a bit like that. If Humfypoos is asleep, I’m a lucky knight. The door to the throne room looks to be slightly open. Light spills out of a crack and runs down the stairs.
Hardly daring to breathe I creep upwards, one hand on the cold stone of the wall. As I reach the top step my stomach starts churning. This is insane. What am I doing? But then I remember Finkel’s words. I need to get to Sabotini as quick as I can, I need to try, for Alice’s sake.
I take three deep breaths then slowly poke my head around the gap in the door. The room is wide and rectangular. There’s a circular manhole cover in the middle of the room and at the end, slumped in a gold and red velvet chair is the biggest ogre I’ve ever seen. He makes Gunwaddle look like a child. His head is drooped down, his chin on his chest, deep rumbling snores coming from him. On his head is a crown so small it’s almost funny. It’s slipped to one side over his ear that pokes up through it.
Heart pounding against my ribs I slip inside the room. Plain stone slabs line the walls, thick black chains dangle down from large metal hooks in the wall. I creep over, keeping one eye on Humfdoodle. He grunts and smacks his lips. I freeze, a wave of pure cold travelling through me. Then he rolls to one side and starts snoring again. Step by small step I approach the wall. The chains have cuffs at the end and I shiver, not wanting to think what horribleness might’ve happened here.
I sneak back over to the centre of the room and check the man-hole cover. It’s made of a dark metal with rows of neatly spaced rivets around the edge. Embossed in the middle is a dragon. I run my hands over it. There’s a hole where the dragon’s eye should be: a thin slit with two smaller slits cutting it horizontally in the middle.
I hunker down and peer at it, trace the shape with my finger.
A keyhole. Maybe.
Humfdoodle shifts in his chair and my head snaps up.
“Mmm, treasure,” he smacks his lips. “Ow…er…bolognese.”
Slowly I creep to one side, ready to run, adrenaline thrumming through me. But his head lolls and the snoring starts rumbling again. I crouch low and move towards him, hardly daring to breathe.
My eyes widen. In his right hand, dangling from a long chain that’s looped around the arm of his throne, is a metal object. Slowly I move forwards until I’m so close I can smell his hot, bin-like breath. I cover my nose with my arm, then reach out slowly and turn the object around. It’s heavy, like a bag of sugar. The top is a circle that the chain runs through, but it’s got a catch, like the ones mountain climbers use to hook onto things. From the circle a small pile of metal extends and the end of this is shaped into a cross that looks like it’ll fit the manhole cover.
I swallow heavily on a dry throat, my temples pounding then reach out and, wincing with the effort, very slowly push the catch. It makes a small creak and I freeze.
One of Humfdoodle’s eyes flickers open and I flinch back, still holding the catch open. The eye blinks, then closes.
“Mmm…smash, bash,” he murmurs and starts snoring again.
I shut my eyes and breathe out slowly then push the catch some more. It opens fully and I slide it away from the circle, up and out, like playing one of those electric wire games.
I hardly ever got buzzed.
Sliding the key silently from the ring I release the catch slowly, then shuffle backwards, never taking my eyes from his face until I reach the manhole cover. The key slides in easily and I turn as quietly as I can but as the lock clicks it makes a huge thunk and the manhole cover squeaks open on rusty hinges, like it’s on a spring or something. It tilts backwards then falls with a mighty clang to the floor.
Humfdoodle’s head snaps up, his eyes bleary. “Wha?” Then he sees me. “You little sneak. How dares you come in here.” His eyes flick to the open cover. “Oh no you don’t!” He grabs a huge club from the side of the chair and pushes himself up.
I take one look into the darkness of the hole in front of me, think I can hear the slop of water below then snap my gaze back to Humfdoodle. He’s two steps away from me, club held high.
I stand quickly, straighten up, arms by my sides and jump down into the darkness, Humfdoodle’s roar of hatred echoing around me. I drop down and hit water with an almighty splash, go under. Bubbles swirl around me. The water is warm and clear but too deep to see the bottom. Bubbles escape my mouth as I gasp. My foil! The impact must’ve forced it out of the scabbard. It drops away from me into the deep darkness. I spin myself around and kick towards it but it’s falling fast, and my lungs are starting to burn. I spin again and kick my way upwards, gulp down air as my head breaks the surface.
I tread water, the weight of loss heavy in my stomach. My eyes sting worse than my lungs, tears spilling from them.
My foil. My magic sword.
Taking a steadying breath, I check my surroundings. The only light comes in a shaft from the hole above. All I need is a ledge and then perhaps I can dive down again and get my foil back.
I’m in a thin brickwork tunnel, almost full to the top with water. The sides arch down from above, nowhere to hold on too. I kick harder to keep myself afloat, my head almost scraping the roof, leg muscles already starting to ache.
“You’d’ve been safer up here, foolish knight,” Humfdoodle yells from above. “Sabotini is not so kind as I.” Something hurtles down from above and hits the water with a huge splash.
Fear twists my insides. I don’t want to be stuck down here with him.
Then his voice echoes from above once more. “Have another!” Something else hits the water near me and I gently swim backwards, staying as quiet as possible. “You still there?” He yells down. “Or didst I gets you? Hope you can hold your breath a long time if I didn’t. Cause yous gonna get flushed like a turd!” He lets out a huge laugh, then grunts and my heart jumps as a huge clang of metal reverberates around me before everything goes black.
Fear scuttles like a spider through my stomach.
I’m trapped in here!