Two Of A Kind Deep in thought, Vincent walked through the first dim light of morning. The park was a mysterious and quiet place at this time of day. The branches of the trees cast bizarre patterns against the graying sky, and the faint noises of the awakening city drove him onward to seek the safety of the tunnels. On reaching the culvert, Vincent stopped and turned again, surveying the area next to the entrance. It was an involuntary action, but nonetheless necessary and deeply ingrained. On the entire way through the park his sensitive ears had been focused on the sounds around him, even the smallest ones, although his thoughts had still been with Catherine, reflecting on their conversation and the whole gamut of touches and emotions they had shared.
Part 10
Rosemarie HauerFinally ducking into the drainage tunnel, Vincent still marveled at Catherine's acceptance of him, of even the obscurest aspects of his personality. What could someone as beautiful and bright as she see in a creature of the dark like himself?
Never before had the heavy steel door slid in place behind him with such a strange finality. Never before had the corridors that led to the inhabited tunnels seemed so long and narrow. Never before had the familiar gloom weighed more heavily on his shoulders. The torches along his way sputtered and struggled to wrap a veil of light around him, but he knew the darkness would always be stronger down here where human beings could only be tolerated guests.
He knew that Catherine was afraid of the darkness. She had told him so some time ago. Yet, her love drew her to come here, to be with the child -- and with him.
The memory of the bittersweet seductiveness of Catherine's kisses sent small sparks of fire through his veins, and he paused to listen to their echoes in his soul. Tears stung his eyes, but he held them in, knowing that he could encounter somebody anytime now. He had no wish to discuss his emotional state with anybody right now. Resuming his walk, he focused his mind on the day ahead, on the duties and chores that had to be fulfilled and, strangely, that calmed him at last. Suddenly he paused again, only now realizing that there were no messages on the pipes; none whatsoever. An "all-quiet" was always a sign for emergency, for utmost caution, and he broke into a quiet trot, needing to be home and see that everything, and everyone, was all right.
The study was buzzing with voices, Father's, Mary's, William's and some others', and Vincent could see their agitation in the way they moved and gesticulated. William was the first one to notice his presence, and in his usual gruff way, the burly cook bellowed, "Where the hell have you been, Vincent?"
"Now, now," Father soothed, and Mary cut in, "You knew that he was Above, William."
Alarmed by their behavior, Vincent demanded, "Will anybody tell me what happened, please?"
Mary walked over to where he stood at the base of the stairs. "Amy is missing," she explained, unable to meet his eyes.
Vincent staggered backward a step and grasped the railing for support. "How can this be?" he gasped.
"I was on duty in the nursery tonight. I only went to the bathroom for a few minutes. You know the little ones cannot leave their latticed cribs on their own, otherwise I wouldn't have left the room for a second. Anyway, those few minutes were the only time when someone could have come in to snatch her."
On the other hand, Vincent thought, if Amy were capable of climbing over the rim of her bed, she could have sneaked out anytime during the night. He remembered all too well that he had been able to disappear from the nursery several times when he was a small child, because Father had underestimated his physical skills.
"It is highly unlikely that anyone could pass by the sentries without being seen," was all he said, but silently he admitted that someone as small as Amy, with such a light gait, and probably barefooted at that, might very well stalk by one or the other post.
"She is possibly still within the home tunnels," Father said. "She knows how to send an emergency signal should she get lost. That's why we put an all-quiet on the pipes."
Vincent turned to Mary again. "When did you notice that she was missing?"
"On my return from the bathroom. That was about one and a half hours ago," Mary answered.
"She could not get too far in such a relatively short span of time," Vincent mused.
"Four different search-parties are combing the tunnels already," Father said, absently running one hand through his graying hair. "Up to now, there is no indication that Amy was kidnapped. Aside from the fact that no one could have slipped by the sentries...who would do such a thing?"
Vincent preferred not to utter his worst suspicion. Not before he had any palpable reason for such an assumption. There was no use in worrying these people further, now that they needed their strength to do everything within their power to find the child. Pensively, he let his eyes wander over the assembled members of his community, and when he finally encountered Father's worried gaze, he knew that his parent had long come to the same conclusion as he. If the worst were to be true, and Paracelsus indeed had the child...
Vincent swallowed hard with the enormity of that thought, but instantly clamped down on his rising panic. They had to do this one step at a time. It would not help matters along if he were to rush anything.
"Do you wish me to notify Catherine?" Father asked hesitantly.
After a brief moment of consideration, Vincent shook his head. "Not yet." Walking over to the large desk where Father had spread all the various maps of the tunnels, he demanded, "Tell me which areas the search-parties have been assigned to." While Father pointed it out to him, Vincent's mind worked feverishly to detect all sorts of possible blind spots that might escape somebody who didn't know the tunnels as intimately as he. Finally, with a short nod of his head, he set out on a search of his own.
*
DECISIONSThe small assembly in Father's study was unaware of Catherine's quiet approach. From the tone of their voices Catherine could tell that they were discussing something rather disquieting.
"Someone must have taken her," she heard Vincent say as he placed a small rag-doll on Father's desk. "She would never let go of her favorite toy if she'd had any choice."
"We've been searching for the child for six days now, and all we have is a doll?" William complained loudly.
"Where did you find it?" Mary inquired, the quiver in her voice betraying her deep worry and fear for the missing child.
"A few steps into one of the tunnels branching off beyond the Chamber of the Winds," Vincent explained. "Amy would never have walked that far on her own."
His words were like a punching fist in Catherine's stomach, and the horror of what she had just overheard stunned her into rigid immobility. Instantly, Vincent's head snapped up and with a few large steps he was at her side, seizing her elbow to support her.
Leaning heavily on his stick, Father hobbled over to where she was standing. "We are devastated, Catherine," he said. "We have been doing everything we can to find her."
"How long has she been gone?" Catherine finally managed.
"Since Wednesday morning," Vincent replied. "I was told on my return from my visit with you. We have been searching for her all the time, but that is all we found." He pointed over to the doll on Father's desk.
Catherine allowed herself to be led over to a chair, but refused to take a seat. "Why on earth didn't you tell me?" she complained, looking at Vincent accusingly.
Lowering his eyes, Vincent responded, "There was nothing you could have done."
She was in no condition to refute him, and so she simply asked, "What happened?"
With few words Vincent relayed the story of Amy's disappearance. "And now the only possible conclusion is that she was abducted from the nursery by Paracelsus."
"How can you know that?" she inquired.
"I smelled it," he said and at the puzzled look she gave him he added, "I could never forget the scent of his powdery drug, even though there were just traces in the air, too faint to do any harm. It lingered in the tunnels every step of the way. It must have clung to his clothes. Frankly, I refuse to think that he instilled it on the child. Paracelsus is an evil man, but not a stupid one. He would possibly give her some sedative in order to be able to transport her more comfortably, but not anything as...stimulating, and agitating, as that drug."
"That still leaves the question how he managed to get into the Hub without being seen," Father interjected.
"Paracelsus has his ways," Vincent responded, "but so have I."
Alarmed, Catherine tried to hold on to his arm as he pivoted to leave the chamber, but he gently extricated his sleeve from her fingers. "Please will you excuse me," he said determinedly, "I have to go now."
"Vincent," Father called after him, "you can't go there alone."
Stopping dead in his tracks, Vincent turned with excruciating slowness. "How many lives do you think I will risk?" he asked in a deceptively even voice.
"That is not your decision alone," Father argued. "We must call in a council meeting, and then we will decide..."
"There is no time," Vincent cut him off and was gone.
"I will go after him," Catherine said, and when Father wanted to dissuade her, Mary caught his arm and shook her head.
"Vincent?" Catherine called out before entering his chamber, but he was not there. Where could he have gone? She turned and went back down the corridor she had come when the full impact of what had happened hit her, and a belated reaction set in. She stumbled against the rocky tunnel wall and froze, suddenly feeling dizzy. Her child. Oh, God, Amy! Dropping to the ground, she leaned against the wall and hugged her knees to her body. She wished fervently that there was something she could do. Now.
It took several moments until Vincent's voice got through to her at last.
"Catherine, are you all right?" came the question again. "Catherine, talk to me!"
She grasped his arm, tugging fiercely. "I need to go with you. You must let me, Vincent. You must."He pulled her up to her feet, shaking his head resolutely. "I'm sorry, but this is out of the question. Catherine, please understand..."
"But you must take me with you. I can't bear waiting here without knowing what is happening to either of you. Vincent, it's going to kill me!"
"Catherine," he all but shouted, "pull yourself together!" And then, more softly, "Please. We need clear heads. Both of us. I cannot focus all of my strength on Amy when I have to take care of you at the same time."
"You don't have to take care of me. I'm not a child!" she yelled, and it sounded quite hysterical, even to her own ears. Taking a few deep breaths in order to calm herself, she added, "I won't be a bother, Vincent. Please don't do this to me. Please let me come."
But Vincent would not be swayed. "You are not thinking clearly," he observed in an almost detached manner. She had never seen him so inaccessible, so resistant to a plea of hers. Her shoulders slumped in defeat.
"All right then," she muttered and turned away from him, beginning her walk back to Father's study.
"Catherine," he called out to her, but she didn't stop, hoping against hope that he would come after her, telling her he'd been wrong, and that she should come with him. But nothing like that happened, and when she finally turned to look for him, he was gone.
*
Messages from sentry posts at the outer perimeters of the home tunnels came in on the pipes in Father's study. Vincent had just passed them and was now heading for the catacombs.
It was well past midnight, and a handful of people were still sitting together in silence, just waiting, hoping, and praying.
"How long will he be able to reach us across the pipes?" Catherine inquired.
"Not for much longer, I'm afraid," Father responded. "Once he reaches the lower levels, we won't be able to communicate with him."
"No pipes there," Mouse explained.
"How far down does Paracelsus live?" she asked. "How long was Vincent gone when he last encountered Paracelsus?"
"Last time Vincent wasn't much deeper than the catacombs, and those can be reached in a few hours. That is not where Paracelsus lives," Father informed her. "Paracelsus' realm, as he himself pleases to call it, is a system of tunnels two levels below the pipe levels, far off to the east. It will take Vincent about two days to get there if he travels alone, because he can do with very little rest. Even he has to sleep, though. Otherwise he'd probably make it in twenty four hours. With the proper stops one would need approximately three days. Assuming that you don't have to carry much." He fell silent then, studying his hands contemplatively. The fear for his son was written plainly all over his features. Mary rose and walked over to him, gently beginning to massage his rigid shoulders.
"Vincent knows what to do," she consoled. "He always does."
A sudden staccato on the pipes made their heads snap up, and Catherine jumped to her feet. "What do they say?" she asked, looking at Father pleadingly.
"Vincent has returned," the old man said with disbelief, "and he is bringing Amy."
"Didn't you say..." Catherine began, but Father was already reaching for his bag and heading for the exit.
"I don't have any explanation for this either," he called back over his shoulder as he climbed up the small metal staircase on his way to meet Vincent.
On impulse, Catherine ran after him, intent on following him as quickly as possible.
They had walked in silence for about two hours when Vincent's tall figure appeared around a bend ahead of them. He was carrying the child, and Catherine cried out in fear at the sight of the limp form in his arms.
"Please don't worry," Vincent hurried to reassure her. "She just seems to be very tired. I found her in the catacombs, not far from the mouth of the maze. She was wandering toward me. My sudden appearance startled her, but once she recognized me she came into my arms and cried. I took her up and carried her. The rhythm of my gait probably lulled her to sleep."
Catherine rose on her toes in order to get a better look at the child, and Vincent bent to surrender the small figure into her arms. She went down on her knees and cradled the tousled head against her breast, tracing the smudges of dirt on Amy's face with her thumb. "Oh my baby, what did he do to you?" she whispered, heedless of the tears that ran down her cheeks.
Father knelt awkwardly down beside her, quickly checking Amy's vital signs and deftly feeling along her limbs for injuries. "She seems to be fine, so far," he said, releasing a small sigh of relief. Vincent supported him as he struggled to get back to his feet again. "Of course, I shall have to take a closer look at her as soon as we are back in the hospital chamber."
"If there isn't anything urgent that needs to be attended to," Vincent remarked, "I would very much prefer to take her to my chamber. The familiar surroundings will most likely have a calming effect on her. After what she has probably been through, she will need as much comfort as she can get." He stooped again to help Catherine up, supporting the weight of the child as best he could. "We'd better go now," he said with a strange faraway look that didn't go unnoticed by either Catherine or Father.
On their way to Vincent's chamber they passed by several unobtrusive onlookers, and Catherine was grateful for the sensitivity of the tunnel folk who heeded their unspoken request for privacy. Once in the chamber, Father examined little Amy thoroughly, finding nothing but a small bruise on her forearm and a few scratches on her palms. He was a little concerned, though, about the deep sleep she was still in, and he voiced his suspicion that Vincent had probably been right about the sedative. Yet, all of her vital functions were normal, and so he simply advised that Amy be given the chance to sleep it off.