'Right! Also, big improvement for troll image viz-ah-viz public relations if we find lost children.'
'And even if we don't, we can eat the dog, right?'
The bar emptied, leaving only the usual clouds of smoke, cauldrons of molten troll drinks, Ruby idly scraping the congealed lava off the mugs, and a small, weary, moth-eaten dog.
The small, weary, moth-eaten dog thought hard about the difference between looking and acting like a wonder dog and merely being one.
It said 'Bugger.'
Victor remembered being frightened of tigers when he was young. In vain did people point out that the nearest tiger was three thousand miles away. He'd say, 'Is there any sea between where they live and here?' and people would say, 'Well, no, but-' and he'd say, 'Then it's just a matter of distance.'
Darkness was the same thing. All dreadful dark places were connected by the nature of darkness itself. Darkness was everywhere, all the time, just waiting for the lights to go out. Just like the Dungeon Dimensions, really. Just waiting for reality to snap.
He held on tight to Ginger.
'You needn't,' she said. 'I've got a grip on myself now.'
'Oh, good,' he said weakly.
'The trouble is, so have you.'
He relaxed.
'Are you cold?' she said.
'A bit. It's very clammy down here.'
'Is it your teeth I can hear chattering?'
'Who else's? No,' he added hurriedly, 'don't even think about it.'
'You know,' she said, after a while, 'I don't remember anything about tying you up. I'm not even very good at knots.'
'These were pretty good,' said Victor.
'I just remember the dream. There was this voice telling me that I must wake the - the sleeping man?'
Victor thought of the armoured figure on the slab.
'Did you get a good look at it?' he said. 'What was it like?'
'I don't know about tonight,' said Ginger cautiously. 'But in my dreams it's always looked a bit like my Uncle Oswald.'
Victor thought of a sword taller than he was. You couldn't parry a slash from something like that, it'd cut through anything. Somehow it was hard to think of anything looking like an Oswald with a sword like that.
'Why's he remind you of your Uncle Oswald?' he said.
et it, pal,' said Gaspode. 'Anyway, the only other way must be down those steps. They connect with the sea, right? All you have to do is swim down there and hope your lungs hold out.'
Laddie barked.
'Not you,' said Gaspode. 'I wasn't talking to you. Never volunteer for anything.'
Victor continued his burrowing among the rocks.
'I don't know,' he said, after a while, 'but it seems to me I can see a bit of light here. What do you think?'
He heard Gaspode scramble over the stones.