Tunnels 04, Closer

started up the minibus and they headed toward London, the two Hunters were soon fast asleep, in total contrast to Elliott and Chester who were talking nonstop as they directed the odd comment at him, he began to feel thoroughly left out.
    Mr. Rawls and Mrs. Burrows didn't speak at all, but as if sensing Will's mood, his mother leant forward and squeezed his arm to comfort him. "We're safe now, Will," she said. "That's the main thing."
    Drake wound his window down a little and turned on the rather basic radio. "Getting drowsy. Need to wake myself up," he confided to Will.
    Will was happily listening to the songs, but stiffened as a new one came on. " You are my sunshine, my only sunshine ," the singer crooned.
    "Do you mind if I change the station?" Will asked Drake, grimacing.

    * * * * *

    At the start of the motorway Drake pulled into the services, and twisted around in his seat to address them.
    "Right, that's enough chitchat. I want you all to get some shut eye, and I'm afraid I need you to put these on." He reached into the foot well in front of Will and pulled out a bag, from which he produced some hoods.
    "So we can't see where you're taking us?" Will asked, as he examined the hood that Drake had handed to him. "Why's that necessary?"
    "Obviously the Hunters will make it tricky to maintain a low profile anywhere in London," Drake explained. "I can't expect them to stay inside all the time. Besides that, there are just too many of us to camp out in one of my safe houses. So I've arranged to go to someone who can put us all up, but it has to be on the basis that I don't expose them to any danger."
    "So if we don't know where we are, we can't lead the Styx back to them if we're Darklit," Will reasoned.
    "Need to know basis," Chester piped up.
    Drake nodded.
    "We're going on a magical mystery tour," Mrs. Burrows said mischievously, as she began to pull her hood over her head.
    Drake chuckled. "Er... Celia... wait a minute -- that's not going to work with you, is it?"
    "Not... really," she admitted. "I might pick up a few clues along the way."
    "Thought as much," Drake said, extracting a small tub of Vicks from his coat pocket. "So instead, I want you to rub some of this decongestant under your nose. I have no idea how strong this new sense of yours is, but I hope it'll do the trick?"
    "You think of everything," she said.

34

    Drake drove for many hours, finally leaving the main thoroughfare for a succession of single-track roads. The junctions he came to lacked signposts, but he was so familiar with the route that he had no need for them. He finally stopped before a pair of metal gates hung between substantial stone columns. Perched on top of these columns were weatherworn griffins, their expressions fierce, as if daring anyone to enter.
    "Gog and Magog," Drake said to them, as though he was greeting long lost friends, then cast an eye over his bus full of hooded passengers, who had slept for most of the way. As the gates swung slowly open, he edged through them and continued on the other side. The rolling pastures of rough grassland to his left and right were dotted here and there with twisted oaks or wind-whipped beeches.
    When the gates were out of sight, he spoke loudly. "Rise and shine, everybody! Hoods off! We're here!"
    They began to stir and wake from their slumber, removing their hoods as Mrs. Burrows wiped the decongestant from her top lip. "It'll be a while before I get over that smell," she grumbled.
    Will's vision took a moment to adjust to the light and allow him to see their surroundings clearly. "We're in the countryside!" he said.
    As if to order, the sun crept from behind the clouds, bathing the landscape in its gentle glow and conferring upon the pasture a rich, golden bloom. Accelerating down a steep incline in the track, Drake took the minibus over a cattle grid. Then a small hump-backed bridge came into view, but Drake made no attempt to moderate his speed as he raced across it. The minibus felt as thought it was going to take off -- and it did, landing with a bone-jarring thump.
    "There goes my stomach!" Chester laughed, as he and his fellow passengers held on to stop themselves from being thrown about.
    "Hey! A lake!" Will exclaimed, as his eyes fell on the expanse of water to the left of the track, its banks thick with bulrushes. On a small island in the middle of the lake, nestling between a spinney of sycamores, was a replica pagoda. The combination of this and the faux curved-back