The rain eventually petered out and Sir Adrian said goodbye to his horse. He led Dastardly out into the Sponge with a torch from the fire in hand, and they took another nearby cave that sloped downwards at the back.
'So what sort of name is Dastardly?' Adrian said once they'd reached the bottom of the cave. Around them sat pools of water, though the path they took was dry.
'A relic from a past life. Someone called me Dastardly, so that I was called.' Eager to change the subject, the freelancer asked, 'so why isn't it flooded here? With all the rain you would expect a great lake over the Pan.'
'Not from anywhere near here, right?' Adrian turned raised his eyebrow.
'My memory isn't great... the plains, the Turretial, nothing concrete.'
'Still, you could tell me more than I would tell you.' The knight kept leading the way. Aside from the torch, the only sights were the occasional shaft of moonlight that shone through small holes in the rocks.
'But I would guess it's the same here as under the mountains,' the knight said. 'The gnomes dig huge reservoirs to catch the water that filters through the rock, that way their tunnels stay dry.'
Not much farther on they arrived at the Doors. There were eight of them. Four, including the one that Adrian approached, were as wooden castle doors with brass knockers and riveted braces. The others were nearly three times the size of a man.
'The big doors are probably for ogres,' Adrian said in a withdrawn and uninterested tone. He made a rat-tat-a-tat-tat-tat and the door swung open with a click that suggested, unnervingly to Dastardly, the presence of clockwork. On the other side was a stone path, eight horses wide, underneath a very tall arching tunnel. As they stepped out onto the road, a six legged beast of burden cantered past.
The freelancer looked up and down. The road was almost straight, stretching into darkness with only gnomish lamps to light the way. Everyone, it seemed, was travelling in the same direction, because not a single soul was coming back along the road.
'It can't be more than fifteen minutes from here to Hox,' he said, kneeling down.
Adrian raised an eyebrow.
'You have got to be kidding.'
---
Ten minutes of uncomfortable running followed.
'You could have done me a favour and taken off the armour,' said Dastardly, huffing as each step with the Mercurial Boots took more than ten yards off their journey.
'It isn't exactly fun up here either, you know,' the knight yelled back down from his position riding piggyback on the freelancer.
A sign on the left declared that Hox was coming up soon at the end of the road. If the light were better, Dastardly could have noticed that, on the outer edges, the road sloped upwards into the night. He would also have noticed the large shadow that sat on the fringe of the road, farthest between lamps.
All in one excruciating moment, the freelancer felt Adrian lifted from his back, and for the second time that night, he stumbled into trouble.
'Ungh,' he said, flat on the ground.
'Well, well,' said a small voice. 'Looks like someone new. We're really making a killing off all these travellers that haven't been to Hox before, right Jowno?'
'Dat's for sure, Plen.'
Dastardly felt a poke on his neck.
'Pray that you've got enough for the highway toll, mate. Roll over and turn out those pockets.'
The freelancer did as he was told.
'I've only got – hang on, that's not a crossbow!'
The highwayman, actually a gnome, was holding a metal stick that probably did look like a crossbow to the untrained eye. Dastardly was a little more learned, and punched the gnome in the gut before leaping to his feet. A moment later, after his head had stopped spinning, he pulled out his sword to aim at the accomplice, who was holding Sir Adrian up like a kitten. The ogre probably reeked if you got too close, and its grey face was scabbed all over.
'Hey, you're not supposed ta –' it said, before Dastardly's bolt hit it in the chest. It dropped the knight.
'Owie! Owie owie!' the ogre yelled, more out of annoyance than mortal pain.
'Come on Adrian, we've got to get going!'
'That's Sir Adrian to you,' the knight groaned. As they both made to leave, the gnome called out behind them.
'Wait! I've seen those before!'
'What?' Dastardly turned and glanced at the ground. The highway gnome got to his feet.
'Did you get those gadgets from Nuff Sed?'
'He's just buttering you up, you fool,' said Adrian.
'What's it to you?' the freelancer said.
'Nuff Sed's my cousin. He made the best boots but took 'em away before anyone else could copy them.'
'We don't care,' Adrian said. 'He's just going to set the ogre after us, Dastardly. We need to leave.'
The ogre had extricated the bolt. 'What you want I should do, Plen?'
The gnome stepped forward and put on a businesslike air.
'The name's Plen T. Sed. I'd do anything to study that kit you're using.'
'Could you get us to the Turretial?'
'Sure. Jowno, I'll meet you back here.'
The ogre shrugged its shoulders and sat down, shaking the entire tunnel.
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