Chapter 2

Over the following months, Irena and Virgil fell into a comfortable routine taking care of little Vian. Irene breast-fed him and he was voracious. He grew quickly and seemed very aware of his surroundings, gazing at her intently. She realized her empathic bond with her son was growing as he did, although it was not as strong as that with Virgil. His father spent hours watching him, holding him and reading him stories. She was sure the bond with his father was strong.

Irena went Above when they needed food and supplies, but needed to spend very little of her money. Virgil had made arrangements for this as well. The man who had delivered the message, Harry, was an old friend of Matthew’s, one from his early years. Harry told them he was a helper for a community of refugees living in tunnels far from their own. He helped them find food and gave them clothing and other necessities, taken from the bundles he normally left for the others. He had a pawn shop and second-hand store, but his real love was books. He and Virgil spent hours in the chamber’s den talking about them, comparing their favourites and reading in silent communion. Irena sat with little Vian on her lap, basking in the peace of their little family. She was not an educated woman, but she learned a great deal by listening to the two men. Virgil’s love of literature and history had always encouraged her to read the few books he had, but now it became a passion, although she seldom joined in the discussions. She read when she had time and discovered new worlds between the covers of the rough fabric volumes Harry brought them.

The real world concerned her more. One day, Irena asked Harry about the other tunnel community. It would be nice to meet them and be less isolated, she thought. She was sure they were good people if Harry was helping them. Little Vian would need playmates soon.

Harry’s face clouded a little as he spoke. They were good people, he said, but there was something of a power struggle going on. It was a battle between humanity and power. One man wanted to create a commune of caring individuals, the other wanted to dominate them for his own purposes. The two leaders had even fought over a newborn child, he’d heard. He thought the matter would resolve itself soon, but until it did, he recommended caution. If the power-mad man won, he suspected the community would be unpleasant to live in.

So Irena and Virgil waited, made love with undying passion and read to their son. Virgil’s voice calmed him like no other. It made Irena wonder about his origin. He had not told her very much. Someday, it might be important to their son – and his twin - to know more. She put a proposal to him one evening, after Vian was asleep.

"Virgil, I’ve never asked about your birth and childhood, and it doesn’t matter to me, but I think our son should know. Why don’t you write it all down - everything you can remember about your life before you met me? I won’t read it unless you want me to."

Virgil gathered Irena in his arms and kissed her. His voice was low and soft.

"Irena, you are a woman of sound practicality. You’re absolutely right - I should make a record. I’ll get Harry to bring me some journals and some good pens. My love, you are welcome to read anything I write – although the story is not a pleasant one."

So it was that Irena watched Virgil write the story of his life. She had not realized until then that he was left-handed. He seemed to use both when doing anything around their home. His hands, heavily-furred and sharp-nailed, were capable of such gentleness, such finesse in everything he did. Then she saw that he had a beautiful writing hand as well. He always used fountain pens and the sound of that moving across the pages in the evening was a comfort to her. At least their sons would know their father, not like her or Virgil himself. She declined to read the journals. They could tell her nothing she wanted to know. His love was enough for her.

She did do one other thing, though, which she felt necessary. Virgil had always avoided mirrors, but now they had a son who resembled him. That son must be made to understand that he was different, special even. When she found a full-length mirror in Harry’s shop one day and brought it home, she felt Virgil’s discomfort. They had never discussed his appearance – or Vian’s.

There was only one answer to that. She gathered up Vian and then pulled Virgil over to the mirror, and made him look in it, at all of them. Seen together like this, the differences were obvious, but so was the love. Virgil held her and Vian to him, his affection clear, just as she could feel it in her heart.

"You see Virgil? We are a family. One day our son will ask questions about what he sees in picture books or reads in stories. We cannot, and should not, protect him from this. He will want to know why we live here and why his life is different. It won’t be easy, but we have to give him pride in what he is, not disappointment for what he is not. You are the best role model, my love."

Virgil gave her a wry grin that let his canines peek out.

"You are absolutely right, once again, Irena. Our son is a miracle. He must be made to understand what that means – the dangers and the wonders both. I will begin immediately."

He was as good as his word. When Vian began to walk, Virgil made him stand before the mirror and look at himself. When he became older and asked incessant questions, Virgil told him why the world above should not see him and what might happen to him if they did. He was firm, but also made it clear that Vian was special in ways no one but himself was – and he told his son why.

Irena watched all this with pride and could not help wondering how her other son was faring. She allowed herself to think about him only rarely. Her empathic connection with Virgil was very strong now and she didn’t want him to worry. She didn’t know how she could explain. But as their son grew, she made a point of periodically asking Harry about developments in the far tunnels. Moreover, although she said nothing to Virgil, she suspected Vian’s twin was living with the other tunnel community. She wished her two children could meet. She knew somehow, through that slight empathic connection, that her other son was happy and well. That gave her hope.

Harry told them that the scholar had won out and the other man had exiled himself far in the deeps below. He was a dangerous man, though, and if he knew about Virgil and his son, would do all in his power to kidnap them.

Virgil laughed at this. No one could take him against his will, he scoffed. Just let them try. But Harry said that some of the man’s followers were very large indeed, and not above violence.

Even with this positive change in the distant community, Irena concluded that the time was not right to approach the others, and Virgil agreed. Their safety lay in their silence. Virgil was not inclined to go abroad much any more. He always told Irena he was a happy family man. Irena nevertheless worried about their son, who would never be able to wander above in daylight. How was he to meet other children?

Not long after that, Irena became pregnant again. She was no less amazed than Virgil. She was now almost 40 and had not expected to be blessed again – had been afraid of what might result if she did, although she said nothing to Virgil. His happiness and love for her was something she had not wanted to dampen with her fears.

This child also arrived early, and Virgil delivered it. He had read as many medical manuals as he could in the intervening months and the arrival of the little girl was almost anti-climactic. She resembled Irena, with no trace of her father’s genes, other than her hair, which was a rich gold like his. Her eyes were brown like Irena’s. Vian’s eyes were azure like his father’s and he too had inherited the golden hair. They called the new arrival Ilona. Now Vian would have a playmate, and one not too much younger. Irena was happy.

…

The years passed and the little family thrived. They had explored their section of the tunnels and found a hidden exit into Central Park near the Bronx Zoo. They had become night owls of necessity. It didn’t bother any of them. The children had been made aware of the hazards of daytime and their bond reinforced it. Virgil never flagged at finding them amusements. He found wonders in everything and their children adored him. They were encouraged in turn to explore books and their world and did so avidly. Virgil gave them a classical education and never refused them any knowledge.

Their life was anything but dull. There was still much to learn of life underground. They had found crystal caves, even salt caverns and beautiful galleries of stalactites and stalagmites. The children learned to swim in warm bathing pools heated by natural steam vents. Virgil loved to swim and taught Irena as well. They saw the sun in places where, miraculously, it penetrated the rock and shone on pools, like a large mirror, or reflected off stone walls. These became their favourite places. They were always quiet and took great care not to get close to the other community. But there were other, less welcome, mysteries.

While Vian was still a baby, they had felt the earth vibrate under them for a time. They had dashed from their chamber and stood in the tunnel, fearing that the roof might crash down upon them and uncertain what to do. But the event was quickly over. Curious, they had put Vian into a sling on Virgil’s chest, taken a lantern and some food, and sought out the cause.

Virgil was sure it was some kind of slippage, perhaps the collapse of a section of tunnel eroded by water, but they had to know if their area’s safety had been compromised. They had traveled for some time, far into the deep sections and eventually reached a massive blockage in a rough-hewn tunnel under the river. Fine dust hung in the air, glittering in the light of the lantern. Virgil had speculated that this might once have been intended to connect to their sector – or perhaps to the salt caverns. It did not look as if anyone was going to risk trying to open that route again. Irena hoped no one had been hurt. In the ensuing months they explored carefully, but never found any other connecting passages. They breathed a sigh of relief but remained cautious.

Virgil schooled the children and Irena taught them to sew and cook. Her soups and stews were still the main staple of their diet. A pot was always on the stove. Virgil called it her cornucopia, since it was never empty. She also learned to make bread, scones and cookies in the little oven. They ate well, if not luxuriously. Irena’s mother had always stressed the importance of a good diet. Irena would not compromise on food.

Soon the two children were pre-teens and beginning to get restless. Irena talked to Harry again about the others. It seemed that the dangerous man was still living far Below, but the other community was thriving. There had been many births and they protected their area with considerable vigilance.

Irena quietly decided that she wanted to meet these people, if only to know whether they might become friends. She did not want her children so isolated from others. She stayed home one morning when Virgil and the children went on one of their exploration expeditions. She often did this now, enjoying a little peace and quiet on her own. Virgil was gradually mapping the tunnels and the little party always seemed to come back with some souvenir of their forays. Their chamber displayed geodes, hunks of glittering pyrite and even some old ship brasses and coins.

Irena put on a pair of dark pants and a sweater, then a hooded jacket. She walked quietly towards that section of the tunnels where the others lived, her mind working furiously as she activated the doors Virgil had installed to protect them.

How could she introduce herself without risking her family? Would they drive her away or attack her? She thought not, from what Harry said, but she needed some means of getting their attention without seeming threatening. She had not arrived at any solution when she rounded a corner – and stopped dead, putting her hand over her mouth.

Two boys were crouched in the tunnel, their backs to her. They were playing with a kitten. One of the boys was tall, older and dark-haired. But the other had long golden hair like Virgil’s. She didn’t need to know who he was. Her heart, and the thin empathic bond she had felt with this lost son over the years, told her.

She moved silently into a shadow and watched. The younger one moved and she caught a glimpse of his face. Even knowing, it made her gasp. He was so beautiful, so like Vian! She felt her legs give way and fainted.

She was only out for a minute but when she opened her eyes, two faces were peering down at her in concern. One of them was her son’s. She closed her eyes and tried to get a grip on herself. She found her throat had tightened and she began to weep.

The older boy helped her to her feet and her son took her other arm. They waited until she had herself under control, then led her inwards, quite a long way, stopping once so the older boy could tap on a pipe in what sounded like code. Then they entered a section of well-lit tunnels and came into a chamber lined with books. The boys left quickly, she supposed to return for the kitten.

Her first thought was how Virgil would have loved to see this library. Then she saw a severe-looking older man dressed in many layers of woolen sweaters walking towards her, limping and leaning on a cane.

"Good afternoon," he said quietly. "My name is Jacob. Most of the community calls me Father. Can I help you? The boys said you fainted. I’m a doctor. Please don’t worry. You’re safe here."

"The boys?" Irena said weakly, feeling her legs wobble. Jacob immediately took her arm and led her to a chair. She sank down gratefully. She dearly wanted to know what her son was called.

"Yes, Vincent and Devin. They’re always in some kind of mischief. I hope they didn’t upset you."

"No," Irena said, her voice quivering, her mind in a whirl. "I’m sorry. I was lost - and seeing him – it was a shock."

"You mean Vincent, of course. Yes, he has that effect at first. But he’s a gentle soul and a very good student – when I can keep him and Devin apart. Where are you from Irena? How did you find us?"

Irena realized Jacob had misinterpreted her shock, and was thankful. She could not reveal her secret yet, but she decided to give Jacob as much of the truth as she could.

"We’ve been living in a cavern for some years – Virgil, myself and our two children. Harry has been helping us. He’s told us about this community, has done so for many years. But don’t worry," she added seeing Jacob frown, "although we live in the tunnels ourselves, it’s a very long way from here. We are no danger to you. I wanted to meet you, have wanted to for a long time. I could hardly believe what he told us. Now I see he didn’t tell us the half of it."

Irena watched Jacob’s face and saw the indecision.

"I’m really sorry for imposing on you like this. I’ll leave you now. It was a pleasure to meet you Jacob."

Jacob stood up as Irena left the chair.

"May I know your name?" he asked.

"Oh, dear, what am I thinking?" Irena blushed. "My name’s Irena Gilchrist."

"Is there anything we can do to help you and your family, Irena? We do welcome refugees here, and we help many still living in the world above. You don’t seem to need our help, though. Harry is a good man."

"Father!" a soft voice interrupted and Vincent came running into the chamber. He was cradling the kitten. He stopped dead when he saw Irena and got a peculiar expression on his face. It was one that reminded her so much of Vian and Virgil that Irena felt her heart jump. She clamped her hand on the back of the chair to steady herself. She could feel Vincent’s excitement and puzzlement.

"I’m sorry, Father," he said, his eyes moving between the two adults. He frowned and words tumbled from him. "Devin and I want to know if we can keep the kitten."

Father looked at Vincent with an expression that made the boy quail.

"Vincent, you know that we don’t allow pets here. There are very good reasons for that. Do you remember what they are?"

Vincent hung his head. "Yes, Father."

"Well then, the kitten cannot stay. I’ll make sure it goes to a good home with one of our helpers Above, though. All right?"

Irena spoke up.

"I’ll take the kitten, if you’ll let me," she offered. "Harry would love it."

Jacob looked relieved.

"Thank you, Irena. Vincent, please give the kitten to this nice lady. And go and get cleaned up for lunch."

Vincent handed the kitten to Irena, giving it a perfunctory stroke with a long-nailed, long-haired hand. The cat was purring loudly in her arms. The boy hardly noticed. He was regarding her with a quizzical expression. Irena smiled at him.

"I’ll take good care of him, Vincent, and you can visit him if you wish, once he’s settled."

Vincent looked around at Jacob and caught the look of caution and warning which Irena didn’t miss either.

"Thank you Irena," Vincent threw over his shoulder as he ran out the door.

"That boy," Jacob sighed. "He didn’t even say good-bye."

"Thank you for the kitten Jacob," Irena said softly.

Vincent was a delight. How she wished she had seen him grow up!

"I’ll see the kitten is cared for. I meant what I said about Vincent visiting, but it is a long way. I’ll understand if you’d rather he didn’t."

Father spoke quietly. "Vincent is very special, Irena, as you saw. I worry about him. Devin, I’m afraid, has got him into trouble in the past. Once he was nearly caught Above. I’ll have another talk with that boy."

"I understand," Irena said again, softly. Jacob looked at her, unsure why he trusted this woman he had met only minutes before. Vincent had been fascinated and not at all shy with her, as he usually was with strangers. He had come to rely on Vincent’s first impressions. They were never wrong.

"I believe you do," he said. "I hope we’ll meet again. I’ll have Mary guide you back to our border. Be well, Irena."

"Thank you, Jacob. You too. I think we will meet again."

Mary, summoned to Jacob’s chamber, took Irena in hand and led her to the perimeter. At that point, Irena assured her she could find her own way. Mary gave her a hug that included the kitten and smiled at her.

"Do come and see us again soon," she invited. Irena made a vague promise and walked away, conscious that each step took her further from her son and that it might be a very long time before she saw him again.

…

Irena said nothing immediately about her visit to the other tunnel dwellers, but Virgil caught her roiling emotions. She had taken the kitten directly to Harry and he had been thrilled with it. Irena had almost wanted to keep it, just because it had been loved by Vincent. But Jacob was right – a cat did not belong below ground.

"What is it, love?" Virgil asked her two days later, after the children were sound asleep in the side chamber he had carved out for them. Irena knew she could no longer keep the secret. She was glad Virgil truly loved her. What she had to say would be difficult.

"Virgil, there’s something I’ve never told you, about Vian’s birth. You see, I had to have the birth at home because I was sure the child was yours and I didn’t want to risk a hospital and questions – or worse. I joined a religious group who offered to help me when the time came. But Virgil, they were shocked by the birth, as though I had given birth to devils - that I was some kind of witch.

"Devils?" Virgil asked. He looked at Irena, wondering if the plural had been a slip of the tongue, then knew it had not. He gripped her hand in his own and began to stroke it. He could tell she was upset and tense. Whatever it was, he would help her through it. She was his life.

"Yes Virgil. You see, I had twins. I knew they would return and try to kill me and the babies, and you were waiting, so I packed up to leave. But I was so afraid, Virgil. I hadn’t been on the streets in a long time and I knew they were dangerous. I could hide one child under my coat, but not two, even though they were small. I … I wrapped the other baby as well as I could and left him behind St Vincent’s hospital in a box. There were people rooting around, and I knew they would find him. I guessed they were from the other tunnel community after I met Harry. They didn’t sound or dress like tramps.

"Oh, Virgil, I wanted us to meet those others long ago, but it was too dangerous. I have been able to feel our other son, a little. I knew he was well.

"Then two days ago, I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to see what the other community was like for myself. So I went to their section. I found two boys playing in one of their outer tunnels and … and … one was our son, Virgil. I fainted and they helped me to Jacob, the man who’s their leader. Our son’s name is Vincent – and he’s a well-mannered, affectionate boy – everything I could have hoped. I left as soon as I could, my heart was pounding so. Now I don’t know what to do."

Virgil drew Irena to him. How she must have suffered in the months they were apart! He blamed himself for this dilemma. He had not told Irena about this chamber or his situation. Well, he hadn’t known she was pregnant, either, but that was no excuse. He whispered into her hair.

"Irena, you did what you thought you had to. Our other son is alive and well, that’s all that matters. But I don’t think we can disrupt our family and the others – at least not yet. Harry says that other man now calls himself Paracelsus and still lives far Below, leading a violent gang and engaging in criminal activity in the world above. They are a constant source of worry.

"Now I understand more about his reports over the years. The child they fought over was ours, Irena. I’m sure of it. We must not put our family at risk while Paracelsus lives. We’ll have to be vigilant, although I don’t think we are in danger here. We are a long way from that part of the tunnel network and my security walls discourage the curious. But we must not allow visitors from the other community, or go ourselves to visit them. It might be noticed. One day, we will both see our son again. I’m sure of it."

Irena buried her face in Virgil’s chest and hugged him. It was almost enough to know their other son thrived – but oh, it was so difficult to remain apart! Why was life so complicated?

Not long after that, Harry came to visit and reported that the boy Devin had disappeared and was presumed dead when they couldn’t find him. He and Father had argued. Irena was sure that Vincent was devastated by this event and wished he could meet his brother. He must feel very alone, Irena thought. But it was still too dangerous.

Irena sighed and tried to send her love along the thin bond with her other son. She hoped he got some consolation from it.

Harry gave them ongoing reports on the kitten, which had filled a hole in his life. He was almost as alone as they and the little cat had made him very happy. They did not tell him of the hole in their own lives. That was something they could never speak of to anyone else.