The Weirdstone of Brisingamen by Alan Garner

are on top of the Edge.”
    â€œYes …”
    â€œWell, if we follow only the tunnels that lead upwards, we’re bound to be moving in the right direction, aren’t we? I know it’s not much of an idea, but it’s better than wandering aimlessly until Grimnir and Selina Place find us.”
    â€œIt’s not only those two I’m worried about,” said Colin. “Have you noticed how the sand is churned up everywhere? It’s too soft to give clear impressions, but it shows that these mines aren’t as empty as they look. And remember what Cadellin said about avoiding them at all costs because of the svarts.”
    Susan had not thought of that. But the added danger could not alter the situation, and although they talked for some time, they could think of no better plan. Still, it took courage to switch on their lamps and leave their safe retreat for the perils of the open tunnel.
    So they journeyed into despair. For no way led upwards for long. Sooner or later the floor would level and begin to drop, and after an hour of this heartbreak Colin and Susan had less than no idea of their whereabouts. Then, imperceptibly, they began to feel that they were gaining ground. They had wormed along the crest of a sand-bank that rested on the edge of a cliff, high under the roof of a boulder-strewn cave. Sand rolled continually from under them and slid into the emptiness below: the whole bank seemed to be on the move. At the end of the ridge was a tunnel mouth, and the rock beneath their feet, when finally they made contact with it, was almost as welcome as green fields and the open sky. This tunnel was different: it was longer than most, and less tortuous.
    â€œColin, this time I think we’re on the right track!” said Susan, who was in the lead.
    â€œI think perhaps we are!”
    â€œOh!”
    â€œWhat’s the matter? Is it a dead-end?”
    â€œNo, but it’s …”
    Colin peered over his sister’s shoulder. “Oh.”
    The widest shaft they had yet come upon lay before them, and stretched across its gaping mouth was a narrow plank. This was wet, and partly rotten, and no more than three inches rested on the lip of the shaft at either end.
    â€œWe’ll have to go back,” said Colin.
    â€œNo: we must cross. The tunnel leads somewhere, or the plank wouldn’t be here.”
    And Susan stepped on to the plank.
    Colin watched his sister walk over the pit: he had never known her to be like this before. She had always been content to follow his lead, seldom inclined to take a risk, no matter how slight. Yet now, for the third time in one day, she was deliberately facing great danger, and with a composure that claimed his respect even while it nettled his pride.
    Susan was two-thirds of the way across when the plank tilted sideways an inch. Colin felt the sweat cold on his spine: but Susan merely paused to correct her balance, and then she was across.
    â€œThere! It’s easy – a bit rocky near the middle, but it’s quite safe. Walk normally, and don’t look down.”
    â€œAll right! I know how to do it as well as you!”
    Colin started out. It was not too bad: the plank was firm, and he was prepared for a slight movement just over halfway. But even so, when it came it caught him unawares. He felt the plank shift: he teetered sideways, his arms flailing. Two swift shambling steps, the plank seemed to swing away from him, the lamplight whirled in an arch, he saw that his next step would miss the plank, the shaft yawned beneath him, and he leapt for his life.
    â€œAre you hurt?”
    Colin pulled himself into a sitting position, and rubbed his head.
    â€œNo. Thanks, Sue.”
    He felt sick. For a second, which had seemed an age, he had crouched on one foot, poised over the drop, with his other leg hanging straight down the shaft, unable to produce the momentum to roll forward. And Susan had reached out and grabbed him by