They seemed to descend forever.
Part of that was due to Cassidy who panicked in the dark and demanded that Darwin guide each foot to each rung.
"It's alright, babe," Ryan would reassure from above.
Somehow Darwin thought Cassidy needed more than just her loser ex-boyfriend's assurances.
They eventually reached ground level, and Darwin could tell by the echoes of feet against rungs that they were somewhere very large.
"Wait a second," Ryan said, reaching ground level and fumbling along the wall.
Like they could see anything to go anywhere without him, thought Darwin.
There was a click, and a string of lights lit up.
They were in a tunnel of considerable size.
Darwin reckoned you could get two double decker buses side by side along it.
"What is this place?" asked Cassidy, staring around her in awe.
"It's an old nuclear bunker," Ryan replied.
"They built several of them around here during the cold war."
"But it's huge," Cassidy cooed.
"They say there's an entire town in one under Corsham.
They're supposed to all be connected."
Cassidy's eyes went wide with excitement.
"Have you explored?"
"Nah, some of the tunnels have collapsed and the place is a maze.
I don't wanna get lost."
"Wish you would get lost," Darwin muttered under his breath.
They followed the lights down the passageway, the sheer scale of the installation only becoming apparent to them as they passed room after room.
"You could keep an army down here," Cassidy exclaimed.
"I think that was the idea," Ryan said.
Darwin could smell D'Toeni before they even got close.
There was something unmistakable about the smell of a vampire, Darwin thought.
He could also smell blood, but not human blood.
Pig?
Cow?
Certainly not rat.
Ryan lead them to what looked like an old communications centre just off the main tunnel.
Whatever equipment had been here was now long gone, the wires protruding from the less faded areas of the wall the only clue as to the former use of this room.
D'Toeni sat on a swivel chair, turning idly this way and that, a sheep carcass by his feet.
Darwin thought the vampire looked ragged.
His face had always been pocked and lined but there was a weariness about it.
His hair seemed greyer at the sides if that was possible, and the moustache seemed to hang limp on his lip.
"Ah," D'Toeni said, clasping his hands together like some over-enthusiastic teacher.
"At last.
You're here!"
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR - Why You Should Never Try To Mug Little Old Ladies In New Salisbury
"I think it will do you good," Sally agreed.
"Well I've not seen her for years, and her grandson said he'd come and pick me up."
Maureen was feeling a lot better, was sitting up in bed and eagerly finishing off the chilli con carne that Sally had brought round.
"Are you sure it's not too soon, though?
Could you maybe give it another day or two?"
"Darren," it was the first name Maureen could think of, "can only knock off work early today.
As it is, it'll be middle of the night before he gets here."
Sally sighed.
"Well, if you're sure."
Maureen patted Sally's hand.
"Oh don't you worry dear.
They are going to pamper me like a queen."
"Just take it easy.
Don't go overdoing it and have a relapse."
"I won't, I promise."
Sally smiled and picked up the tray.
"You have a nice time then, Maureen."
"I will.
Thank you dear.
And thank you for the chilli con carne.
It was delicious."
Sally's face lit up.
"Really?
I love cooking.
Stupid, I know, but Simon is away so often that when he is here he just wants something quick and safe."
Maureen huffed.
"That husband of yours works too hard."
"Tell me about it.
Big project at the moment.
Lots of stress."
Maureen waited until she'd heard the front door close before she jumped out of bed.
Her trip to Venefasia had accelerated her recovery and she was starting to feel her old self.
She carefully removed the bandage from her head and touched the tender spot on her scalp.
It had stopped bleeding but was still very sore.
Probably a nasty bruise there
, she thought.
She went to her wardrobe.
Something dark, she decided, so she could skulk through the Friary without gaining attention.
Although she had to admit that if elves were able to reach the gateway and shove notes under the door, then there wasn't much in the way of security.
Even so, the last thing she wanted was to be discovered.
She dressed before grabbing the flowers Sally had left and stuffing them into a handbag, her cats twining round her legs.
"Now, you behave," she told them as she overflowed their bowls with cat food.
"Don't eat it all at once, it has to do you a couple of days.
And if I'm not back by then, you're to go and get Sally and rescue me."
The cats ignored her, instead tucking into the feast in front of them.
She left them to it and went down into the cellar recalling all the spells she knew as she went.
It was a decent number.
She took deep breaths knowing that what she was about to do was very dangerous.
But she couldn't just leave Joseph there, she couldn't.
The last thing the elves would expect would be an eighty-two year old woman wielding magic.
She'd come to the conclusion over the course of the afternoon whilst laying in bed, that she may very well die doing this.
And whilst that thought did make her heart beat a little faster, she was prepared for the risk.
She'd felt more alive in Venefasia than she ever had as a gatekeeper.
More than that, it was her fault Joseph was in this mess.
She was going to put things right, even if it was the last thing she did.
Standing in front of the gateway door, she quietened her mind and thought of Ernest for a second.
I'll make sure they don't get away with this
.
She thought back to times with Ernest, trying to keep him alive in her memories, trying to stop them fraying at the edges.
Then with one final deep breath, she took the key from the hook and unlocked the door.
It was night in Venefasia, yet still the air that blew into the cellar was warmer than the cellar itself.
Maureen checked that the coast was clear, before stepping through and closing the door behind her.
The route through the Friary was almost second nature now and she only stopped a couple of times, the voices that she heard proving to be far-off echoes.
It was only when she reached the entrance hall, with all its displays and antiques that she had to duck out of sight and wait as two acolytes wandered past.
The plaza was relatively quiet as well, the only light coming from the full moon above and a little street cafe, still open in one corner of the plaza.
Once away from the Friary, she could begin to walk more leisurely, the streets of New Salisbury starting to feel familiar to her.
Nerves and determination boiled together like soup.
She could do this, she told herself.
She was so busy following Joseph’s crudely drawn map that she never noticed she was being followed until she had turned down one of New Salisbury's many alleyways.
Then the light caught her pursuer from behind and cast a huge silhouette on the wall in front of her.
She recognised the silhouette as belonging to a troll.
For a second she thought it was Joseph, but then she realised that the ears were all wrong.
"What do you want?"
she called out, not daring to turn.
"Relax," came a voice, too small and squeaky to be the troll.
"We ain't gonna hurt you.
We just wants your money."
"My money?" said Maureen.
She didn't know what she expected them to say, but it hadn't been money.
"Yeah, money.
What you fucking stupid or what?"
Maureen turned round to face the source.
The squeaky voice stepped into the light, a gnome with a Vaudeville moustache, dressed in a shell suit.
"Hey grandma," he shouted.
"I'm talking to you."
Maureen took a step toward him, more outraged than frightened.
"Are you now?
And what if I told you that I didn't have any money?"
The gnome pointed to her handbag.
"You gotta have money.
Everyone has money.
You want my friend here to get a little rough."
The troll stepped forward, his face a permanent scowl has he punched a fist into the opposing palm and growled.
"Is that supposed to be menacing?"
Maureen asked.
"Lady, he's a fucking troll.
He could rip your arms off.
Best not to piss him off.
Just hand over your money and we'll walk away."
"Oh, I have an idea," said Maureen, putting a hand in her bag and wrapping her fingers around one of the plants she collected.
"How about you give me all
your
money and then you run away?"
"I ain't running nowhere, grandma.
I'm the one doing the mugging here."
The gnome pulled a knife out of the back of his tracksuit, not a particularly large weapon, but by comparison to his size it looked like a hunting knife on the little man.
"Oh yeah?" he said, pointing it in Maureen's direction.
Maureen uttered a couple of words under her breath.
"Oh yeah?" she told the gnome as the blade of the knife suddenly burst into flame.
Maureen's heart soared at the reaffirmation that she could do magic.
She still didn’t fully believe it, but each spell she cast solidified her belief.
She didn't understand how or why, but she knew she had the ability to do something about Joseph's capture.
For the first time since Ernest's death she didn't feel old and useless, she felt powerful.
"Gary," the troll said worriedly.
"Your knife is on fire."
"Of course it's on fire," the gnome shot back.
"Don't you think I can see that?"
He looked back to Maureen, eyes narrowed, and pointed the flaming blade at her.
"Knives on fire can still do a lot of damage."
Maureen muttered some further words under her breath and the knife turned to ice, the fire quenched.
"Ha," said the gnome shaking the knife at her, and in doing so causing the blade to crack and then shatter.
In her hands another plant stem turned to dust.
The gnome looked at the empty hilt.
"Gary," the troll said.
"Your knife is broken."
The gnome turned to look at him again.
"No shit Sherlock," he said.
"What are you waiting for?
Go get her."
Maureen cast a ring of fire around her.
"Oh I wouldn't do that," she said, letting the trail of fire shoot out along the ground toward her pursuers such that they had to jump aside.
"You... you can't do magic," the gnome said.
"You're a woman."
"Perhaps she's like one of those performers Larry has on Thursday nights," the troll suggested.
"Scott, that's like the dumbest thing you've ever said.
Does she look like a bloke in drag?"
"You never know these days.
Some of them are really good with makeup," the troll said defensively, before shooting Maureen a "sorry."
"What are you apologising to her for, you big oaf?
We're supposed to be mugging her, not worrying if we've offended her."
Maureen coughed, the fire that encircled her now reduced to embers.
"I was serious about the money," she said holding out her hand.
Scott fumbled in a pouch he had slung across his shoulder.
"It's not a lot," he started, but Gary the gnome cut him off.
"What are you doing?" he screeched in a high pitched tone.
"She's supposed to give us money, not the other way round."
Scott shrugged.
"You can go up against her if you want, but I ain't messing with any magic user."
"She can't be," Gary continued to yell.
"She's a fucking woman.
They... can't... do... magic!"
Maureen wished she knew a spell to conjure soap, but she didn't so had to settle for one that shot vines up out the ground and wrapped round the gnome.
They could have been boiling hot or made of acid by the way he screamed.
Fear shot across Scott's eyes and he hurriedly handed over a collection of notes and coins.
"Please don't hurt me," he said.