man with a full beard, crowned with leaves, arm outstretched, carved out of ice. Over one archway were the words LOOK FOR THE RIGHT . The outstretched arm of the statue pointed to the archway just to the left of that one.
‘Hmmm,’ said Windleberry.
But he went the way that he was pointed. It turned a corner, turned corners some more, and then seemed to double back on itself as if it were teasing him. But eventually he came to a court where a fountain was playing. The fountain seemed to be spouting purple ink.
Windleberry crossed the open space. On the far side was the higher, wider arch with the words IT IS BETTER TO GIVE THAN TO RECEIVE .
Someone had splashed paint over them. And had daubed the word BREAKOUT ! all over them in green.
‘I see,’ muttered Windleberry.
In their niches, the statues brooded silently. Their blank eyes looked down on him.
You wouldn’t happen to have a scrubbing brush, would you?
they seemed to say.
And – er – some soap?
There was another flight of stairs, wide and very long. Windleberry climbed steadily up it. At the top was another arch. Beyond it was another chamber. This was the place.
The ceiling was set with stars. A pantheon of crystal statues stood in a semicircle around the centre of the room. Opposite, curving round the far wall, were two huge arched windows. They showed only darkness, because Sally had just switched her light out.
Windleberry looked slowly around the room. Something was wrong . . .
One of the statues was wearing a beret. It wasn’t that.
Another had star-shaped sunglasses. It wasn’t that either.
The statue of Truth was now called TRUFE . She also carried a guitar.
‘There’s something at work here,’ muttered Windleberry.
On the base of the statue of Wisdom were the words WIZDUM ROOLZ OK .
‘Sinister . . .’ breathed Windleberry. And close, he thought. He could smell it. But it wasn’t the statues.
It was the door.
There it was; a small, low doorway, in that place where all the archways were high and drew the eye upwards. It was in an area of the wall that was heavily tinted, and was itself tinted so that it was fully opaque. From where he stood, Windleberry could see a long way down many corridors of Sally’s crystal mind. He could see out into the world. But he couldn’t see beyond the little door.
He went still, like a deer that scents a tiger. He listened.
Nothing.
He drew a long breath and . . .
Yes.
‘It shouldn’t be
this close
,’ he muttered.
Not this close to the centre of her mind.
Softly he stole to the door. It was open, just a crack. Noiselessly, he went in.
It was a small chamber, with opaque walls. There was nothing in it. No clutter, no shut-away nightmares, no madness chained and gibbering to the wall. There was just the trap door.
There were no signs on the trap door. Neither KEEP OUT nor WELCOME . There was no lock on it either. He lifted the trap and looked down.
Intelligence had talked confidently of fifty fathoms of diamond block. Intelligence was out of date, it seemed. Things had changed in Sally’s mind. The diamond was gone. There were no steps going down. No lift, no ladder, not even a rope. There was only darkness.
The darkness that led down to Pandemonium.
He felt it calling to him, whispering from below.
You just step over the void and drop
, it said.
Drop. You won’t be the first, Windleberry. You won’t be the last either. Drop. Now
.
Softly, he closed it again. From his pack he took a short length of the bright wire of Swiftness. He curled it lovingly in his hands, and snapped it into three pieces. He took out two batteries, charged with Virtue. He took out a small sheet of the silver of Prudence. He took out a primer of Decision, placing it carefully down on the floor so that it would not trigger. And then, very gently and carefully, he took out two transparent tubes filled with a liquid the colour of amber. He held his breath.
Truth comes in many forms and may be used
‘Hmmm,’ said Windleberry.
But he went the way that he was pointed. It turned a corner, turned corners some more, and then seemed to double back on itself as if it were teasing him. But eventually he came to a court where a fountain was playing. The fountain seemed to be spouting purple ink.
Windleberry crossed the open space. On the far side was the higher, wider arch with the words IT IS BETTER TO GIVE THAN TO RECEIVE .
Someone had splashed paint over them. And had daubed the word BREAKOUT ! all over them in green.
‘I see,’ muttered Windleberry.
In their niches, the statues brooded silently. Their blank eyes looked down on him.
You wouldn’t happen to have a scrubbing brush, would you?
they seemed to say.
And – er – some soap?
There was another flight of stairs, wide and very long. Windleberry climbed steadily up it. At the top was another arch. Beyond it was another chamber. This was the place.
The ceiling was set with stars. A pantheon of crystal statues stood in a semicircle around the centre of the room. Opposite, curving round the far wall, were two huge arched windows. They showed only darkness, because Sally had just switched her light out.
Windleberry looked slowly around the room. Something was wrong . . .
One of the statues was wearing a beret. It wasn’t that.
Another had star-shaped sunglasses. It wasn’t that either.
The statue of Truth was now called TRUFE . She also carried a guitar.
‘There’s something at work here,’ muttered Windleberry.
On the base of the statue of Wisdom were the words WIZDUM ROOLZ OK .
‘Sinister . . .’ breathed Windleberry. And close, he thought. He could smell it. But it wasn’t the statues.
It was the door.
There it was; a small, low doorway, in that place where all the archways were high and drew the eye upwards. It was in an area of the wall that was heavily tinted, and was itself tinted so that it was fully opaque. From where he stood, Windleberry could see a long way down many corridors of Sally’s crystal mind. He could see out into the world. But he couldn’t see beyond the little door.
He went still, like a deer that scents a tiger. He listened.
Nothing.
He drew a long breath and . . .
Yes.
‘It shouldn’t be
this close
,’ he muttered.
Not this close to the centre of her mind.
Softly he stole to the door. It was open, just a crack. Noiselessly, he went in.
It was a small chamber, with opaque walls. There was nothing in it. No clutter, no shut-away nightmares, no madness chained and gibbering to the wall. There was just the trap door.
There were no signs on the trap door. Neither KEEP OUT nor WELCOME . There was no lock on it either. He lifted the trap and looked down.
Intelligence had talked confidently of fifty fathoms of diamond block. Intelligence was out of date, it seemed. Things had changed in Sally’s mind. The diamond was gone. There were no steps going down. No lift, no ladder, not even a rope. There was only darkness.
The darkness that led down to Pandemonium.
He felt it calling to him, whispering from below.
You just step over the void and drop
, it said.
Drop. You won’t be the first, Windleberry. You won’t be the last either. Drop. Now
.
Softly, he closed it again. From his pack he took a short length of the bright wire of Swiftness. He curled it lovingly in his hands, and snapped it into three pieces. He took out two batteries, charged with Virtue. He took out a small sheet of the silver of Prudence. He took out a primer of Decision, placing it carefully down on the floor so that it would not trigger. And then, very gently and carefully, he took out two transparent tubes filled with a liquid the colour of amber. He held his breath.
Truth comes in many forms and may be used
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