The Curse of the Gloamglozer: First Book of Quint

  ‘Mistress Maris,’ came a trilling voice from behind her on the landing. ‘Whatever is wrong?’

  ‘It's Bungus,’ said Maris indignantly. ‘He's returning to the stonecomb – and he doesn't want to take me with him.’

  The spindlebug's antennae quivered. ‘I should think not,’ he said. ‘It's a terrible place…’

  ‘Oh, you're as bad as he is!’ Maris stormed. She turned to Bungus. ‘Well, I am going,’ she said defiantly. ‘I am strong enough. And if you don't take me, I'll just follow you!’

  Bungus's expression softened. ‘You're a stubborn one, aren't you?’ he said. ‘Just like your father.’ He sighed. ‘Is there nothing I can say to make you change your mind?’

  Maris shook her head.

  ‘Come on, then,’ said Bungus. ‘But if you're coming with me, you'd better not slow me down,’ he added gruffly.

  There was a stiff breeze blowing when Maris and Bungus stepped out of the Palace of Shadows. It brought with it the smell of oil-pine incense and the sound of loud cheering voices. As the pair of them ran down the palace steps and through the narrow alleyways which led to the Western Avenue, both the intensity of the incense and the volume of the cheering increased.

  ‘What's going on?’ asked Maris.

  ‘The Inauguration Ceremony, at a guess,’ said Bungus. ‘Didn't the Professors of Light and Darkness say a Great Storm was imminent?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Maris. ‘With all this excitement, I'd quite forgotten. Garlinius Gernix is to set sail for the Twilight Woods in search of stormphrax. I've heard that he's one of the very best scholars ever to have gone through the Knights' Academy.’ They continued to the end of the alley where it joined the avenue. ‘Look,’ she said, and pointed up to the top of the Central Viaduct. ‘There he is now.’

  Far above their heads, the newly-dubbed knight sat astride a powerful prowlgrin. As ceremony decreed, they were making their way solemnly across the viaduct from the Great Hall, where the Inauguration had taken place, to the Loftus Observatory, where a great storm-chasing sky ship, tethered to a ring at the top of its gleaming dome, awaited them. Garlinius was dressed in shining full armour.

  ‘Gar-lin-ius! Gar-lin-ius!’ the heaving crowd chanted up at them.

  ‘Good luck, Garlinius!’ a lone voice called out.

  ‘Sky speed be with you!’ cried another.

  Bungus took Maris by the arm. ‘Come,’ he said. ‘As an earth-scholar, I've learnt how to avoid the crowds. Let's double back and go by the side-alleys. It'll be quicker in the long run.’

  Maris nodded, and trotted after the gangly librarian as he set off back the way they'd come. They hurried this way and that along the maze of alleyways and twittens, with Bungus leading and Maris following close on his heels. She was just beginning to wonder whether he knew the layout of the floating city quite as well as he claimed when, all at once, they emerged into a deserted square. Before them stood the Great Library.

  ‘At last!’ said Maris.

  Inside the huge, deserted building, Bungus scurried about busily. ‘Light, light, light,’ he muttered as he unhooked two lanterns from the wall and lit them. ‘Earth willing I have everything else I need already.’ Then, without pausing, he climbed a ladder which led to a raised platform, returning a moment later with two heavy belts. A curved sword hung from one, a dagger from the other. ‘Take this,’ he said to Maris, handing her the belt with the dagger. ‘You could need it.’

  With trembling fingers, Maris put the belt around her waist and secured the buckle. The sheath of the knife pressed into the top of her leg as a constant reminder of the possible dangers which lay ahead.

  ‘Are you still determined to come?’ asked Bungus.

  Maris nodded.

  ‘Then let us go.‘ Bungus crossed to the far side of the library, crouched down and lifted a trapdoor. He handed Maris one of the lanterns. ‘After you,’ he said.

  Maris hesitated. As she stared down into the dark tunnel below her, she was flooded by memories of that awful place: the endless narrow tunnels, the parasitic glisters, the terrible blood-red monster that those ancient scholars had created…

  ‘It's still not too late for you to return to your father,’ said Bungus gently. ‘You don't have to come with me.’

  Maris turned to him. ‘Yes, I do,’ she said simply. Then, without saying another word, she raised the lantern before her and descended the narrow flight of wooden steps which led down to the entrance of the tunnel.

  ‘That's it,’ said Bungus encouragingly. ‘I'm right behind you.’

  As Maris reached the bottom of the stairs and felt the wooden planks beneath her feet give way to solid rock, her heart missed a beat. This was it. She was back inside the terrible stonecomb once more.

  As they went deeper into the rock Maris realized how much she'd missed earlier that day when Bungus had carried her out. For a start, although it had seemed impossibly steep as she had clung on round his neck, she now discovered that the so-called vertical passage was in fact a series of short stretches which zigzagged downwards. In places, where ancient shifts in the rock had caused the walls of the tunnel to crumble, dry-stone buttresses had been cleverly constructed to prevent it collapsing completely. A long thick rope – shiny with centuries of passing hands – was secured to the walls as a makeshift banister. With the scree-like rubble beneath her feet, it made the descent safer, if no faster. The biggest surprise of all, however, was just how far they had to go.

  ‘This tunnel goes on for ever,’ she complained.

  Bungus chuckled. ‘It takes a lot longer going in the other direction,’ he said. ‘Particularly when you've got someone on your back.’

  Maris shook her head. ‘I don't know how you managed it,’ she said.

  ‘Years of lugging heavy tomes and crates of scrolls around the library,’ said Bungus. ‘Besides, you weren't the first individual I've had to rescue from …’ He fell still.

  Maris turned. ‘What?’ she asked uneasily.

  ‘Ssh,’ said Bungus softly. He put his finger to his lips, cocked his head to one side and listened carefully. From far below, above the hissing and humming of the stonecomb, there came the faint noise of what sounded like movement. Then nothing. ‘Probably just a minor shift in the rock,’ he said at length. ‘After all, the stonecomb is growing all the time.‘

  The pair of them continued their descent in silence. All round them, the ominous humming grew louder and, as they approached the heartrock, so the deep red of the tunnels grew more intense. Beneath their feet, the incline was becoming less and less steep until, all at once, the passage emerged at a junction with a broader, flatter tunnel.

  ‘This is it,’ Bungus announced quietly. ‘The Great West Tunnel.’ He turned left and set off. ‘It's this way. Follow me.’

  Now that the going was flat, they made their way along the passageway more quickly. Each time the tunnel divided, they took the left-hand option – as Linius had instructed. Maris's heart was thumping. With every step she took, she was getting closer to the Ancient Laboratory. What would she find there? Was Quint, even at this moment, struggling to open the door? Or were she and Bungus already too late?

  In front of her the tunnel abruptly split into three. Bungus stopped, raised his lantern and shone it down each passage in turn. ‘This must be the dead-end that Linius mentioned,’ he said at last, and pointed to the rocky obstruction in front of them.

  ‘Let's go and see for ourselves,’ said Maris. ‘I …’ She grasped Bungus's arm. ‘L … Listen,’ she whispered.

  But Bungus had already heard it. From the middle passage came an unmistakable sound: a spinechilling slurping and snorting, drawing steadily closer.

  ‘Not again. Please, not again,’ Maris whispered, dread lacing her trembling voice.

  ‘Hold your nerve,’ said Bungus. ‘Remember, it can sense your fear.’

  At that moment, the cause of the disgusting noises rounded the corner and came into view. Maris screamed. It was the blood-red glis
ter – and it wanted revenge.

  ‘You must go on, Maris,’ Bungus said, his voice icy calm. ‘I'll join you as soon as I've dealt with the loathsome creature once and for all.’

  But Maris was frozen to the spot, unable even to blink. The glister barrelled closer, its eyes rolling, its tentacles flailing, its great amorphous red body wobbling as it moved. Bungus seized her by the shoulders and propelled her towards the left-hand tunnel.

  ‘Find Quint,’ he told her.

  At the entrance to the tunnel, Maris paused and glanced back. She saw Bungus stride forwards, his great stave raised before him. The blood-red glow of the approaching glister was reflected in his face. He reached for his pocket – and caught sight of Maris out of the corner of his eye.

  ‘Are you still here?’ he roared. ‘Go! Go NOW!’

  Maris turned on her heels and scurried into the tunnel. Behind her, she heard Bungus shouting. ‘Baneful and damnable abomination!’ he cursed. ‘Prepare to return to the foul air from which you came!’

  Maris went further into the tunnel. When she reached the rockfall she raised her lantern. Sure enough, just as her father had said, there was a narrow gap between the rocks and the wall. She began to squeeze through.

  Behind her Bungus's voice grew softer, more muffled. ‘For years I have tracked you and tried to destroy you. Now, at last, it is time …’ The words faded away completely.

  ‘Sky protect you,’ Maris murmured as she continued to the end of the narrow gap in the rock. ‘And Earth, too,’ she added.

  By the time the tunnel opened out again, the only sound was the deep humming of the stonecomb itself. She hesitated for a moment, wondering whether to wait for Bungus or go on alone.

  ‘Go on,’ she told herself. ‘I must find Quint.’

  As she rounded the next bend, Maris stopped in her tracks. There it was. The great carved stone door of the Ancient Laboratory.

  Heart pounding, Maris walked towards it. As she did so, she noticed something – something which made her pale with foreboding. There was a line of light running down the right-hand side of the doorway. Since the light was coming from inside, it could mean but one thing. The door was not completely shut.

  ‘Oh, no,’ Maris murmured. ‘Quint?’

  She stepped closer. The reason the door had not closed became clear. There was a length of glass pipe wedged into the corner of the doorway, jamming it open. Heart in her mouth, Maris looked in through the narrow gap. The cavernous laboratory was just as Linius had described: the pipes and tubes, the lectern and stool, the curious nest-like collection of parchments. And the damage…

  ‘Quint,’ she called. ‘Quint, are you there?’

  Apart from the broken pipe which was preventing the door from closing, there was shattered glass all over the floor. Maris poked her head into the gap and peered round. There were more broken pipes, and smashed spheres and bell-jars; there were lengths of coiled wire, and scrolls – some intact, some torn into countless pieces which covered the floor like confetti, and…

  Maris gasped. Sticking out from the shadows behind the door were two legs. They were clad in familiar leggings and boots.

  ‘Quint!’ she cried out, and slipped through the gap in the door.

  Quint was lying motionless on the floor. He had blood on his face. His eyes were closed.

  Maris dropped to her knees and pressed her ear to his chest. And, yes. There it was. A heartbeat – faint and irregular, but a heartbeat nevertheless. She leant forwards and stroked his cheeks gently, whispering all the time.

  ‘I came back for you, Quint,’ she whispered. ‘I would never have left you here. You know that, don't you?’ But the youth did not move. ‘Oh, Quint!’ she cried. ‘I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. Please don't die. Please…’ She bent down and planted a small, light kiss on his forehead. ‘Please wake up, Quint.’

  Quint's eyelids flickered and opened. He looked up, confused. ‘Maris,’ he said drowsily. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘We came back to rescue you,’ said Maris. ‘Bungus and I…’

  ‘Bungus?’ said Quint. He peered round the gloomy laboratory. ‘Bungus is here?’

  ‘He's in the tunnel,’ said Maris. ‘That terrible blood-red glister reappeared…’

  ‘The glister is back?’ said Quint. He sat up, and put a hand to his head. ‘I'd forgotten about the glister. The last thing I remember was talking to the creature …’ He hesitated. ‘And then something strange happened…’

  ‘So you've seen the creature?’ said Maris. ‘Did it float in mid-air. Did it have horns? And hideous blistered skin?’

  Quint frowned. ‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘None of these things. It was small, quite weedy, and with great big eyes, until … until it changed… to look like me!’

  ‘Like you!’ Maris exclaimed. ‘Of course!’

  ‘What?’ said Quint.

  ‘The creature can take on any appearance it chooses,’ said Maris. ‘Father explained it all. It is a shape-shifter!’

  ‘A shape-shifter?’ said Quint.

  Maris nodded miserably. ‘My father created a gloamglozer, Quint,’ she whispered.

  Quint stared at her, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. ‘I don't understand,’ he said at last. ‘A gloamglozer? Surely they are only characters in myths and fairy-tales. A gloamglozer doesn't really exist.’

  Maris swallowed hard. ‘One does now,’ she said.

  As Quint struggled to his feet, he remembered the hand reaching towards his chest. He looked down – and gasped. The Great Seal was no longer there. He turned to Maris.

  ‘It's taken your father's Seal of High Office,’ he said. ‘What am I going to tell him? I've been so stupid. It tricked me, and I believed it …’ He chewed into his lower lip anxiously as he remembered all the things the creature had said about Linius. ‘Maris,’ he said quietly, 'the gloamglozer hates your father.‘

  ‘My father!’ Maris cried. ‘We'll have to return to him at once and warn him that the gloamglozer is free!’ She shook her head miserably. ‘He tried so hard to make sure it couldn't escape. Oh, Quint, I wish we hadn't meddled. This is all our fault. And now his life is in danger!’

  ‘If only we'd known,’ said Quint. ‘And there we were trying to help.’

  With a shake of her head, Maris straightened up and strode back to the door. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘We must get back as soon as we can.’

  ‘But what about Bungus?’ said Quint. ‘And the glister?’

  ‘Dear brave Bungus,’ said Maris. ‘He fought the glister so that I could escape and find you. We must go back to him. Hurry, Quint!’

  Maris left the laboratory first, with Quint following close behind her. Being bigger than her, he was not able to slip through without touching the door, and as he did so, there was a sudden splintering sound as the pipe wedged in the gap began to break.

  ‘The pipe!’ Quint cried.

  Maris spun round, grabbed Quint by his outstretched hand and tugged. The pair of them tumbled backwards and fell to the ground. Behind them, the door of the Ancient Laboratory slammed to.

  ‘Shut for ever,’ Maris whispered.

  ‘But too late,’ said Quint, his voice sombre. He picked himself up and helped Maris to her feet. ‘Let's get out of here.‘

  Back through the narrow gap between the fallen rocks and the wall they squeezed, and along the tunnel on the other side. When they reached the four-way junction, Maris looked around, surprised.

  ‘Bungus was here,’ she said. ‘The glister came from that way. I heard them fighting…’

  ‘We'll keep looking,’ said Quint. ‘Perhaps Bungus gave it the slip.’

  They tip-toed on along the gloomy tunnel. Maris led the way, the lantern raised high in her shaking hand. All at once, flickering light fell across a small figure lying on the ground up ahead, its bony arms outstretched.

  ‘Bungus?’ breathed Quint.

  They approached anxiously. The body was face-down on the ground. Maris looked at the familiar papery clo
thes, and at the stave with its carved lullabee-tree pommel clasped in the skeletal hand.

  ‘Oh, Bungus,’ she groaned.

  Quint crouched down. ‘I recognize this place,’ he said. ‘We're at the entrance of the tunnel which leads to the glister-lair.’

  Maris looked up, puzzled. There was no hole to be seen.

  ‘There's been a rockfall,’ said Quint. ‘Yes, look.’ He pointed to a length of carved wood jammed into a crack in the rock. ‘It‘s the end of Bungus's stave. He must have broken it dislodging that great slab of rock.’

  Just then, a soft, hissing sigh emerged from the folds of the baggy jerkin. Quint shifted forwards and tried to tilt the old librarian's head back. As his fingers made contact, a sudden spasm shot through the scholar's body, twisting it right round. His head shook, his arms and legs jerked, and his back slammed down hard against the ground. Quint cried out and fell back. Bungus looked up, as if surprised.

  Quint gasped and Maris let out a small, horrified shriek – for the face before them was not the face they had known before. The cheeks were hollow and the jaw-line gaunt, the skin stretched tightly over the bones. The lips – once full and expressive – had become tight, narrow bands, so shrivelled that they had been pulled back to reveal the yellowed teeth behind, now fixed in a sinister grimace. Worst of all by far, however, were the eyes. Creamy-white, with trace of neither pupil nor iris, they stared up blindly, sending icy shivers shooting up and down Maris and Quint's spines.

  ‘Rogue-glister. Blood-red fiend …’ Bungus murmured, his voice choked and rasping, every word a struggle. ‘Must stop creature. Must save daughter of Linius…’

  Tears welled up in Maris's eyes. ‘You did save me,’ she sobbed. ‘Don't try to talk any more.‘

  But Bungus paid her no attention. ‘Upon me…’ he croaked. ‘The fear, the terror… Tentacles gripping…’ His right arm twitched. ‘Must fight … Chine. Need chine… Where is it? Where has it gone? Where is the chine?’

  All at once, his back arched as if an electric charge had surged through his body. His fingers flexed, his hair stood on end. The next moment it was over. Bungus slumped back, his tongue lolling from his mouth, and a dry, rasping last breath rattling at the back of his throat.