Forest Kingdom Trilogy 1 - Blue Moon Rising

and cajoling, but Rupert fought it, refusing to believe its lies, even when it offered him his most secret dreams. And in the end he won, possibly because he had been lied to so many times before and no longer believed in anything much, not even his own dreams. Rupert lay stretched out on the tunnel floor, covered in evil-smelling slime, and finally understood why the people of Coppertown had left their homes and descended into the depths of the pit.
    The voice rose and fell, roaring and wailing as it realised its failure. Rupert clutched his sword, and lay perfectly still. He knew he ought to blow out his lantern and hide in the dark, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. The voice squealed and gurgled and then died away to a horrid sucking sound, ending in the short bass grunt Rupert had heard earlier. The sudden silence seemed to ring in Rupert's ears as he strained to hear more clearly. Far off in the distance, a little girl started to cry.
    Rupert swore softly, letting his breath out with a rush. It had to be a trick, and a pretty damn obvious one at that. But there were children missing, and if by chance one had survived, and was wandering lost in the tunnels, looking for help . . . Rupert shook his head helplessly, trapped in an agony of indecision.
    He remembered the red shoe, and shivered, and then he remembered the child's doll he'd found, still tucked inside his jerkin. He could feel it, pressed against his chest by the tunnel floor. He sighed resignedly, knowing he didn't really have a choice. If there was even the slightest chance the child was still alive, he had to find her, or he'd never forgive himself. He edged slowly forward into the darkness, grimacing as the cold slime oozed between his fingers.
    The slime glistened dully under the golden lamplight, and Rupert noticed uneasily that the walls and ceiling of the tunnel were also coated with the stuff. He struggled on, slipping and sliding, and holding his sword blade carefully clear of the slime. The little girl was still crying, a lost, lonely sound. Rupert stopped for a while to get his breath back. Crawling on his hands and knees was awkward as well as tiring, and his back was killing him. He'd been crawling for what seemed like ages, but the crying hadn't drawn any closer. He glanced back the way he'd come, but the tunnel entrance was lost in the darkness. He looked ahead, and frowned; he had to be close to the main workings by now. He suddenly realised the child had stopped crying. He waited, listening, and the silence dragged on. She could be anywhere, thought Rupert. I've got to find her before the voice does.
    'Hello?' he called softly. 'Where are you? Don't cry, love, I've come to help ...'
    The voice screamed in triumph, and Rupert's blood ran cold as he felt the tunnel floor shudder beneath him. Something was coming, something large and indescribably heavy. A strange pressure built on the air, pressing lightly against Rupert's face as he stared into the dark. He realised there was no child, and never had been. But then he'd always known that, deep down; he just hadn't wanted to believe it. He scrambled backwards down the tunnel, his arms hammering against the tunnel walls in his haste.
    Whatever owned the calling voice hadn't been able to see his lantern, so it had tricked him into calling out. And now it knew where he was.
    He fought his way back to the tunnel entrance, thrown back and forth by the shaking rock beneath him.
    A deep, throbbing grunt sounded out of the darkness, horribly close, and then Rupert fell backwards out of the tunnel and into the elevator's cavern. The lantern flew from his hand and rolled across the floor, the pale golden light flickering ominously as it came to rest by the elevator platform. Rupert scrambled on to the platform, grabbed the lantern, and screamed for the Champion to pull him up. Wet sucking sounds echoed from the tunnel entrance. Rupert struck the elevator rope twice with the flat of his sword, put
    down the lantern, and stood ready to face whatever it was that pursued him. The deep bass grunt sounded again, close and horribly eager. The platform suddenly lurched beneath him, and then rose slowly up the shaft.
    Rupert yelled for the guards to pull faster, and clutched desperately at his sword. Whatever had called to him in the tunnel was of the dark, and the only answer to darkness was light. He had to have a Rainbow.
    He took his sword carefully in both hands, and raised it above his head. All