To ask if there is some mistake

Rory felt his way down the passage. It was really, really dark. That thing that Jake had given him did help him a little, but, in all honesty, it just meant that everything was a very dark grey instead of black. He couldn't even pick out the wall from the space in front of him. He couldn't see what was on the wall. Or – and now he realised it – he couldn't see what that slimy stuff was on the wall that he had his hands in. Maybe it was best not to know. Yes, best not to even think about it.

Screwing up his face in distaste, Rory continued to shuffle his way along the tunnel. He'd been walking for ages now, always following the right hand wall, and he was pretty sure that he was almost back where he'd started, except maybe deeper underground. He wondered how far these tunnels extended for. What if he got trapped down here? In fact, how did he know that he could even trust Jake? If that even was his name. Jacob. Who was called that these days, really? And he was German, or something. Maybe this was a fairy-tale all of its own, though he couldn't recall being familiar with it.

He heard a scuffling sound, and stopped abruptly. Was there something down here? Spiders. It was bound to be spiders. He hated spiders. Ever since –

He shuddered. No need to think about that. Still, the webbing coming over his eyes and mouth – unable to cry out, or –

No! There was nothing here. It was just a stone, or the echoes of the tunnel of his own movements. Nothing to worry about. And, look, down the corridor of stone, there seemed to be a faint change in the amount of light. It seemed a little brighter down there. Maybe he was nearly out.

Rory hurried towards what he thought was the light. As it turned out, he was only partly right. It certainly got lighter as he went along the tunnel, but it wasn't the outside world. Instead, as he went towards it, he noticed that it flickered. He burst out into an enormous chamber, illuminated by rows upon rows of brilliant white candles.

There must have been millions of them – more, even, Rory thought as he stared at the vast sea of flickering lights that occupied the cavern, and the one beyond that, and that, and that. He edged around them. They were all of different height, different thicknesses, and burned straight or uttered wax everywhere. What were they for? Who had lit them? As he gazed at them, not paying attention to where he was walking, his heel trod down on something solid, and, just stopping himself from slipping over, he turned around.

Behind him, extending as far again, of not further, was a mass of burnt out candles. Like the lit pile, they had all gone out a different time. The one beneath his foot was a particularly worn down stub. There was a little rush of air behind him, and then a sharp clack. He span around to see a candle rolling towards the unlit pile. Spotting the gap where it had been, Rory watched in amazement as new candle, not burnt down at all, appeared in its place, and started to burn.

As he watched closely, he noticed the same thing happening over and over again. What was this place? Then he noticed the decoration of the cave. It was very – skeletal. Could it be –? Were these candles representing people? And each one that went out –

Rory clapped his hand across his mouth, shocked. Had he just witnessed someone die? Was that what the candle going out meant? Suddenly, he became aware of the cacophony of falling candles. There were so many… It was – it was –

He put his hands over his ears and sank to the ground, his eyes tightly shut. What had he got himself into?

He was only broken from his sudden crisis by a repeated prodding in the side. Opening his eyes, Rory saw a large black stick, just a few inches away. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the hem of a black cloak sweeping the floor. Peeling his hands from his ears, he looked around nervously. It was now deathly silent. Well, he'd dealt with this before –

A pale boy with a face framed by thick black locks grinned down at him, leaning on his stick. (And a stick was all it was.)

Another one! Rory groaned inwardly. He frowned up at the boy. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Jean," said the boy, with a slight drawl. "You must be Rory."


Still yelling, Sarah hit the ground with a thump. Groaning, she rolled onto her back, and stared up at the tiny point of light that was the place where she had entered. The place where she was now – well, it was pitch black. She couldn't see anything. By the rush of air, though, it felt pretty big.

"Chris?" she ventured.

"Here," said a voice, a little way off. "Wait a moment while I get some light."

There was a rustle, and then a scrape, and then a sudden blaze of light. The boy was kneeling opposite her, holding a bundle of straw in one hand and a metal tube in the other. In the dim glow of the burning tinder, Sarah saw the large space lit with an eerie light. Then, with a little shriek, he scrambled back, pointing above his head with a shaking finger. For there, in the dark, were two huge floating disks, the size of saucers, just above his crown.

The boy raised a hand to reassure her, but, as she went back, she crashed into something warm and furry, and she twisted around. Now two plate sized orbs looked down at her. With a squeal, Sarah tried to back away from that as well, until, looking straight up she saw two enormous white circles far above her.

Before she could scream, though, Chris had rushed over and placed a hand over her mouth, at the same time touching his burning straw to something on the ground. Immediately, the cavern was lit with flames that spread around them, filling lanterns hanging at regular intervals. He calmly put away his tinderbox as Sarah took in what was newly illuminated.

Standing in three alcoves around them were three dogs – the first of which was extremely large, and the other two were many, many times bigger. The third was so large that its ear brushed against some of the roots of the tree far above them. They were also a strange blue-green colour that Sarah had never seen on anything natural.

"It's OK, Sarah," said the boy, wrapping his arm around the foreleg of the middle dog, "they won't harm you. They do what I want them to do."

Sarah looked up at the massive dogs. "Right… Why?"

He pulled the tinderbox out and held it between finger and thumb. "This. It gives me control."

"And if you didn't have it?" asked Sarah, nervously.

"We'd still be fine. They're not aggressive, unless provoked."

"And are they easy to provoke?"

"No." He smiled. "Just don't take any of their treasure."

Sarah frowned. "What –" Then she saw the glisten beneath each dog. Each was standing over an enormous pile of coins: copper, silver, and gold. Her mouth dropped open. "So that's what the dwarf was going on about?"

"Well," said the boy, with a sly grin, "he was never going to get down here and be able to take any of it, so it wasn't his treasure. But that didn't discourage him."

"Oh. Right." Sarah lapsed into silence for a while. "So…"

"Yes?"

"Why am I here?" Seeing that the boy was going to give a wry answer, she rephrased the question before he had a chance to pick at the logic. "Why did you bring me down here? What do I do now?"

"You're looking for your friends, are you not?"

"Yes."

"And you'll have noticed how much of the forest looks the same?"

"Yes…"

"Well, I'm here to help you find them, and then get out." He paused. "That was a good thought with the trail of glitter, though."

"Oh. Thanks."

"But the forest kept changing, and it was too large for you to keep it up, but you weren't to know that."

Feeling slightly patronised, Sarah nodded obediently. "Now what?"

The boy closed his eyes, and span around. Opening his eyes again, he pointed a finger at a tunnel. "That way."

"To where?" asked Sarah, confused. "And how did you know that?"

"To find your friends. And, Sarah, I've known your name, where you've been, and where you would be. I've also got control over three massive dogs and things that you don't even know about, but just might suspect. Just assume that I know."

"Oh." Sarah looked down. "OK. Lead on, then."

Giving the smallest dog a pat as he passed, the boy led her into the mouth of the tunnel. "Now, it's going to be dark down here, but if you keep your hand on my shoulder, then you won't get lost."

He turned and fixed her with a hard look. "And you don't want to get lost."

Suitably frightened, Sarah nodded silently and put a hand tentatively where he had indicated.

"Good. Come along, then," said the boy disappearing off into the darkness, Sarah stumbling off after him.