The Notorious Scarlett and Browne by Jonathan Stroud

Author:Jonathan Stroud [Stroud, Jonathan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781529509847
Publisher: Walker Books
Published: 2022-06-16T00:00:00+00:00

Unlike the disused levels, the working area of the mines was well-lit, sufficiently signposted, and easy underfoot, and it did not take them long to find the loading bays. This was just as well, for by Scarlett’s watch it was almost morning. Not long after dawn, the buses would return up the hill, and Area 7 would come to life again.

The chambers that they walked through now were different to the older tunnels they had explored. The ceilings were studded with proper lighting, the floors swept, the rubble bunkers and rail-carts free of rust. Broad tunnels led off to new tracts of the Buried City, but here were equipment lockers and sorting rooms, walls hung with tools, racks of coats and helmets, rows of scuffed boots, dining halls that smelled of cleaning fluid, boards with work rotas, tables scattered with discarded mugs and plates – and stacks of pamphlets too.

Albert gave a delighted cry. “Hey – it’s The Ballad of Scarlett and Browne! They’ve got one of ours!”

“Just when I thought this place couldn’t get any better,” Scarlett said. “Well, don’t take the stupid thing.”

“Why not? It’s a lovely souvenir. Besides, I want to read about our unnatural vices on the way home.”

Tucking the pamphlet in his bag, he strolled happily on, with Scarlett trailing somewhat blankly after. It never failed to amaze her how fast Albert could shake off a trauma. He was like a butterfly, flitting to the next flower: a butterfly that remained miraculously unharmed.

Looking at him now, minutes after crashing through the barrier, he hadn’t a scratch on him, while she could scarcely move for bruises. There were moments – this was one – when her companion seemed almost as alien to her as the Tainted, albeit a lot more harmless.

Though of course he wasn’t harmless. Or wouldn’t be, if he chose.

They came to a broad white room with a ceiling of metal strips, and walls of wooden beams. There were many tables in it, and crates piled on the floor. The crates were stamped with the white circle logo of the Faith Houses. Some were open and empty except for linings of straw. Others, to Albert’s great excitement, had objects in them. He bounded to their side.

“It’s a packing room,” he breathed. “This is where they select the best things from the mines. Let’s see what we’ve got … there’s gold and silver items, predictably … lots of metal scraps that might be melted down and reused … several burned fragments of old books – because they’re after knowledge too – and, wait, what are these devices? This long tube might be a sighting barrel, Scarlett, and there’s a kind of trigger on this one…” He frowned up at her. “It’s just like the thing I found in Warwick. Joe said that was some kind of gun.”

To Scarlett’s mind, the blackened, corroded objects were markedly less interesting than the pale light she could see coming through a wide doorway at the end of the room. “OK, so they’re old weapons,” she said.

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