Home Again
Absolutely nothing compares to floating through a sewer with alligators, especially when one's carrying the eyes of their former leader close to his chest. Nothing whatsoever, although floating along the sewers of London Below dead came close. It's a much more visceral experience when one is alive, and he doubts he'll ever feel quite clean again. But as he comes to the end of the line where the water meets the river, he pulls himself out of the grime and slop and staggers to the side, prize safely in hand. It was worth all the fuss, worth all the trouble, worth all the time: he can see the path before him so very clearly. It will be a boat trip back to London, and he'll go unobserved as is the norm for those from the Underside. And then back home. Seeing London Below again will be such a relief. He doesn't get homesick per se, but three years is a very long time.
It's been so worthwhile.
In London Below, nothing stays the same for long but everything stays the same. There are protocols that have been followed for centuries and one has to do with peoples' homes: they're not to be messed with. Oh, he called in a great many favors during his absence to make absolutely certain that his own dwelling stayed protected and relatively unmolested. Given the right incentive, rats make such outstanding guards.
"Your New York State extra sharp cheddar, Master Longtail. I believe this evens the score?"
"Oh, look. Where did these come from?" Now he's regained his lodgings and things are restored to their preferred state, he starts unpacking the contents of his leather frockcoat. Into the locked case go the pair of T'ang Dynasty figurines he found along the way and come morning a visit will be paid to Lear, who's owed him a favor for years.
He chooses his co-conspirators exceedingly carefully.
A right at the first sewer, then exactly a hundred paces straight ahead and woe to the one who loses count -- he never does -- then climb sixteen rungs up to the first landing. Another right for seven paces and at the wall, turn round twice sunwise, tap the third brick from the right, sixth row from the top seven times. When the door opens, take an immediate left and follow the path with the left hand on the wall until the gap appears, then wait for the lift. Ride that up to the top and step onto the platform. Mind the gap, as always, and when the car comes along step into the left-hand door and ride it to the end of the line.
It's been more than three years since he's made this journey, but he remembers everything about it. When the train stops he steps out onto the empty platform, turns twice (sunwise again), moves ahead ten paces, and reaches for the rusted and locked door before him. Beneath his hands he can feel it give: one needn't be an opener to get this particular door to yield. One only needs to know how to find it.
It's been so worthwhile.
In London Below, nothing stays the same for long but everything stays the same. There are protocols that have been followed for centuries and one has to do with peoples' homes: they're not to be messed with. Oh, he called in a great many favors during his absence to make absolutely certain that his own dwelling stayed protected and relatively unmolested. Given the right incentive, rats make such outstanding guards.
"Your New York State extra sharp cheddar, Master Longtail. I believe this evens the score?"
"Oh, look. Where did these come from?" Now he's regained his lodgings and things are restored to their preferred state, he starts unpacking the contents of his leather frockcoat. Into the locked case go the pair of T'ang Dynasty figurines he found along the way and come morning a visit will be paid to Lear, who's owed him a favor for years.
He chooses his co-conspirators exceedingly carefully.
A right at the first sewer, then exactly a hundred paces straight ahead and woe to the one who loses count -- he never does -- then climb sixteen rungs up to the first landing. Another right for seven paces and at the wall, turn round twice sunwise, tap the third brick from the right, sixth row from the top seven times. When the door opens, take an immediate left and follow the path with the left hand on the wall until the gap appears, then wait for the lift. Ride that up to the top and step onto the platform. Mind the gap, as always, and when the car comes along step into the left-hand door and ride it to the end of the line.
It's been more than three years since he's made this journey, but he remembers everything about it. When the train stops he steps out onto the empty platform, turns twice (sunwise again), moves ahead ten paces, and reaches for the rusted and locked door before him. Beneath his hands he can feel it give: one needn't be an opener to get this particular door to yield. One only needs to know how to find it.