shadows of things—just shadows, drifting like cobwebs.
“I was expecting somewhere…hotter,” he said, trying to keep the relief out of his voice. Around him, Feegles popped out of nowhere.
“Ah, you’re thinkin’ o’ hells,” said Rob Anybody. “They tends to be on the toasty side, it’s true. Underworlds are more o’ the gloomy sort. It’s where folks end up when they’s lost, ye ken.”
“What? You mean if it’s a dark night and you take the wrong turning—”
“Ach, no! Like mebbe deid when they shouldn’t be an’ there’s nae place for ’em tae go, or they fall doon a gap in the worlds an’ dinna ken the way. Some o’ them don’t even ken where they are, poor souls. There’s an awful lot o’ that kind o’ thing. There’s no’ a lot o’ laughs in a underworld. This one used tae be called Limbo, ye ken, ’cuz the door was verra low. Looks like it’s gone way downhill since we wuz last here.” He raised his voice. “An’ a big hand, lads, for young Wee Dangerous Spike, oot wi’ us for the first time!” There was a ragged cheer, and Wee Dangerous Spike waved his sword.
Roland pushed his way through the shadows, which actually offered some resistance. The very air was gray down here. Sometimes he heard groans, or someone coughing in the distance…and then there were footsteps, shuffling toward him.
He drew his sword and peered through the gloom.
Shadows parted and a very old woman in tattered, threadbare clothes shuffled past, dragging a large cardboard box behind her. It bounced awkwardly as she tugged at it. She didn’t even glance at Roland.
He lowered the sword.
“I thought there’d be monsters,” he said as the old woman disappeared into the gloom.
“Aye,” said Rob Anybody grimly. “There are. Think o’ somethin’ solid, will ye?”
“Something solid?!”
“I’m nae jokin’! Think o’ a nice big mountain, or a hammer! Whatever ye do, dinna wish or regret or hope!”
Roland closed his eyes and then reached up to touch them.
“I can still see! But my eyes are shut!”
“Aye! And ye’ll see more wi’ yer een shut. Look aroond ye, if ye dare!”
Roland, his eyes shut, took a few steps forward and looked around. Nothing seemed to have changed. Perhaps things were slightly more gloomy. And then he saw it—a flash of bright orange, a line in the dark that came and went.
“What was that?” he asked.
“We dinna ken whut they call themselves. We call ’em bogles,” said Rob.
“They are flashes of light?”
“Ach, that one was a long way away,” said Rob. “If ye want tae see one close up, it’s standin’ right beside ye….”
Roland spun around.
“Ah, ye see, ye made a classic mistake right there,” said Rob, conversationally. “Ye opened yer eyes!”
Roland shut his eyes. The bogle was standing six inches away from him.
He didn’t flinch. He didn’t scream. Hundreds of Feegles were watching him, he knew.
At first he thought: It’s a skeleton. When it flashed again, it looked like a bird, a tall bird like a heron. Then it was a stick figure, like a kid would draw. Over and over again it scribbled itself against the darkness in thin, burning lines.
It scribbled itself a mouth and leaned forward for a moment, showing hundreds of needle teeth. Then it vanished.
There was a murmur from the Feegles.
“Aye, ye done weel,” said Rob Anybody. “Ye stared it in the mouth and ye didna take so much as a step back.”
“Mr. Anybody, I was too scared to run,” Roland muttered.
Rob Anybody leaned down until he was level with the boy’s ear.
“Aye,” he whispered, “I ken that well enough! There be a lot o’ men who became heroes ’cuz they wuz too scared tae run! But ye didna yell nor cack yer kecks, an’ that’s good. There’ll be more o’ them as we go on. Dinna let them intae yer heid! Keep ’em oot!”
“Why, what do they—? No, don’t tell me!” said Roland.
He walked on through the shadows, blinking so he wouldn’t miss anything. The old woman had gone, but the gloom began to fill up with people. Mostly they stood by themselves, or sat on chairs. Some wandered around quietly. They passed a man in ancient clothing who was staring at his own hand as though he were seeing it for the first time.
There was a woman swaying gently and singing a nonsense song in a quiet, little-girl voice. She gave Roland a strange, mad smile as he walked past. Right behind her stood a bogle.
“All right,” said Roland grimly. “Now tell me