The Music Box: Chapter Thirty-Six

The men led the grumbling Mr Topkinses and a downcast Emily through the door from which they had emerged, frogmarching them with a handful of the scruff of their collars. While this was less than pleasant for Emily, it was most uncomfortable for Bernard, as the back of Oscar’s collar was of course around his throat. When he indignantly tried to point this out he copped a clip across the ear for his trouble (which displeased Oscar no end, given it was his ear too), and that set them off abusing each other until the other ear was cuffed and they both got the message.

Emily was utterly despondent, convinced that she had blown her chance of receiving any help from Minerva. Not that she knew any help would have been forthcoming, but this surely put paid to even the faintest hope. She wondered what kind of person must live in such a place as this, with its hidden realms and secret doors and twisting passages that she was sure would be next to impossible to return along, so confusing was their criss-crossing and snaking turns.

They finally reached the end of the passage, only to find the way blocked by a gigantic boulder. Emily was sure they must have come the wrong way, but as she watched she saw it silently roll to one side, making no more noise than the door in the tree that they had passed through so far behind and above where they must now be. She suspected some form of enchantment was involved, for Emily could not see how else such an enormous object could move so smoothly and quietly otherwise.

The men pushed Emily and Mr Topkins and Mr Topkins roughly into the space beyond the boulder. It was black as can be and there was no telling where they were, especially once the boulder behind them rolled back into place. The guards who had brought them stayed carefully on the other side.

Waiting for her eyes to adjust to the gloom, Emily realised that the darkness was so complete there was no hope of seeing anything without some form of artificial light being produced. She could hear Mr Topkins or Mr Topkins breathing quite closely, but the darkness was so enveloping that she felt wary of speaking. They must have had a similar reaction for apart from the breathing, not a peep could be heard from them.

From across the cavernous space Emily’s ears began to pick up a trickling as of water flowing. It seemed some way off, but at least helped give the space a felling of depth, without which she was finding it both unpleasantly claustrophobic and unnervingly infinite – a spatial misrepresentation of its own essence no doubt intended to disarm in some manner.

Emily vowed that no matter how scared she found herself getting, she would not let it show, would not give that satisfaction.

“She’ll know,” Mr Topkins whispered, making Emily jump.

“What’s that?”

“She’ll know if you’re scared or not. I can read your thoughts remember, but Minerva can do far more than that. She can become you entirely – know what you are feeling, summon the thoughts you have deliberately obfuscated and even obliterated – she can dig and dig and dig until she excavates some doozies that you had long forgotten.”

“Oh.” Emily was unsure that this sounded very pleasant, wondering again why it was Mr Topkins had led her here.

“Well you didn’t exactly have any bright ideas now, did you?”

It was true, but Emily still didn’t think that was a very good excuse.

“Well you may as well at least find out now that you’re here. I wonder where she could be? Something about here does seem quite familiar; I doubt she’s far away.”

“You could be onto something there,” a voice purred from right in front of them. “I think you will find she is not far at all.”

“Minerva! How long have you been here?”

“Long enough Mr Topkins, long enough. Now before we go any further, what is this I hear about my welcome platter of fruit ending up all over the place – practically everywhere but where it should be?”

“Ah, that. We thought that might come up. Well you see, just as we came down the passage, we were over-run by a group of, ooh, at least two dozen trolls I would say. You have never seen anything like it, they raced on up to the table and started grabbing great handfuls of the stuff – the fruit – and flinging it all over the place. Mr Topkins here and I, oh and Emily of course, set to dispatching the uncouth varmints one after another, but as soon as we had dealt with one there was another one just asking for it. Just as we had taken care of the last one, kicking his sorry little butt up the passage and away, that’s um, when your bonehead twins came in and accused us – us! – of having something to do with it.”

An uncomfortable silence followed, with Emily wishing there was at least a trace of light by which she could see what was going on. She realised how much she relied on faces to communicate and understand, as well as merely what was said. She had no idea how this story was being received, quite dubious that it would be convincing anyybody.

“Mr Topkins?”

“Yes Minerva?”

“You were very brave, you know, trying to protect my fruit platter like that.”

“Oh, it was nothing. All in a day’s work really.”

“Still; imagine that. One man – I mean two men – standing up to all those wicked trolls! And all to defend me and my honour, and my fruit of course. Why I don’t know what to say.”

“Really Minerva, you don’t need to say anything. That’s just us, we do what we do.”

“You certainly do Mr Topkins, and can I say I shall never forget that. Trolls – to think they were running amuck in my own home. What is this world coming to?”

“I ask myself that every day, I truly do,” Mr Topkins said. “You just can’t go anywhere these days without some form of trouble erupting.”

“I dare say you can’t. Now, I’ll have more of a word to you later about this troublesome troll situation – perhaps you could be of assistance in a little ‘situation’ we have with some odious ogres. At this point I think it would be best if you were to introduce me to this charming guest of ours.”

“Certainly Minerva, how remiss of me. Allow me to present to you, Miss Eb- I mean Miss Emily Button.”

“How do you do Ma’m,” Emily chimed in, curtsying again despite the darkness.

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Emily Button. If I’m not mistaken, we have never met. That’s quite unusual in these parts – I gather you have come from a long way away?”

“You could say that Ma'm, though to be entirely honest I don’t quite know exactly how far.”

“I see. Well I would love to hear more, but first, let us get comfortable. Please do allow me to apologise for the darkness, I don’t imagine you are used to it being quite so. I have my reasons, which we may or may not have time to go into, but I will at least show you to a seat where you can get more comfortable.”

And please – call me Minerva.”