Tunnels 03, Freefall

just the smell of Aniseed Fire, but an abundance of other, sweeter scents. "Glorious," she declared, then led the boys from the porch and onto a winding path towards the higher ground at the rear of the cavern.
    They were passing a bed of what looked like smoldering lupins, their tips emitting a glow that alternated between a glowing red and a more subdued orange, when she said, 'Mind you don't go near the Spitting Caps. They can be nasty blighters."
    Neither of the boys was certain if she'd meant what she said, but they weren't going to take any chances so both kept to the far side of the cinder track. Appearing from nowhere, Bartleby slipped in behind the boys, evidently not wanting to miss the outing.
    Seconds later, they found they were standing before a carved wooden angel. It was as tall as a man, with a tranquil expression on its face and long tousled locks which draped over its shoulders and its swanlike wings, which were folded behind its back. "Nat... Nathaniel," she whispered. "This is where I laid him to rest." She dropped her eyes to the carefully arranged stones below the angel.
    "Then... then he's... er... dead," Will said, his voice hollow.
    "Yes, two years ago," Martha replied huskily, her eyes still downcast as Bartleby backed up to the angel. He began to cock his hind leg. Will and Chester watched him, both of them mortified at what the cat was obviously contemplating. He became aware of their intense interest in him and seemed to hesitate. Then he snorted and lifted his leg higher, and Will knew he had to do something to stop the inevitable.
    "Bart! No!" he whispered, frantically making small pointing movements that the cat should leave.
    Bartleby got the message. Glowering at Will, he lowered his leg and slunk away to the back of the shack. Martha appeared to be none the wiser as Will, feeling he should say something to fill the long silence, spoke to her.
    "Did you make the angel for him?"
    "No, it came from the ship -- from the prow -- but I carved his face into it... my boy's face," she said distantly, as she scratched the back of her head. "I chose this spot because it's by the wall, over there," she said, tipping the lamp so the light fell on the ground past the angel, "there are other graves. Nathaniel always reckoned the men who built the shack are buried here."
    She turned on her heels as if she had said all she was going to say and was about to return to the shack, when she stopped and held very still. "There's something you should know. Nathaniel was on one of his foraging trips when he fell down a crevice. He broke several ribs. The spiders swarmed. The seem to be able to sense it when something is hurt or weakened, and they came at him, scores of them."
    She looked at Will and Chester in turn. "Nathaniel hadn't taken enough Aniseed Fire with him, but he still managed to escape from them and get home." She didn't speak for several seconds. "I can take care of most things... illnesses and wounds. You have to learn fast in the Deeps." She frowned. Nathaniel's ribs were healing and he was doing just fine when... when he was suddenly taken with a fever. A bad one. I did everything I could for him." She let out a tremulous breath and brushed the front of her skirt with her dirt-encrusted fingers. "That's all there is to it. He was nineteen years old and my only child. He just faded away."
    "I'm sorry," Chester murmured.
    Martha's mouth clamped shut as though she was fighting back the tears, and the silence stretched out. Although Will wanted to offer some words of condolence to the woman, he couldn't think of what to say. Then Martha spoke again, her voice steadier.
    "Nathaniel was older than your friend, and strong as an ox, but there's something foul in the air in these parts. Like the spiders, it waits until you're hurt, then it creeps into you. It got a grip on him, and I just hope the same thing doesn't happen to her."

    * * * * *

    "So, let me get this straight -- you say you've been a Styx all along," Dr. Burrows said as he sat across from the Rebecca twin.
    "I'm Styx by birth. You don't th uddenly become a Th tyx," Rebecca replied, her temper flaring.
    "You lisped again. Is there something wr--?" Dr. Burrows began to ask.
    "Broke a few teeth when I fell down the Pore," Rebecca interrupted, now enunciating very precisely as she did her utmost to control her lisp. "And I jumped down it because I wanted to help you."
    He was silent for a second or two, regarding her little skeptically