Infinite Regress by Christopher G. Nuttall

Author:Christopher G. Nuttall [Nuttall, Christopher G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Coming of Age, Science Fiction & Fantasy, New Adult & College, Sword & Sorcery, Young Adult, alternate world, sorcerers, Magicians, Magic, Fantasy
Amazon: B01G2QRCQ0
Goodreads: 30269132
Publisher: Twilight Times Books
Published: 2016-05-21T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

“HAVE YOU NOTICED,” CABIRIA SAID, “THAT the air is getting better?”

“The tunnels do seem to be adapting to us,” Professor Locke agreed. “But there’s just too much dust around for us to trust the air completely.”

Emily nodded in agreement. They’d cleared some of the dust out of the way using spells, but there were still countless unexplored tunnels coated in dust. Breathing it in would make them unwell, if it didn’t choke them to death. Better to keep using filtering spells than to risk death down in the lower tunnels.

“And we have work to do,” Professor Locke reminded them, as they reached the crystal chamber. “You two can explore, as we discussed. I’m going to remain here and keep probing the crystal matrix.”

“As you wish, sir,” Cabiria said. “But surely it would be better to recruit help...”

“This is my project,” Professor Locke snapped. “You two can map the corridors without help.”

Emily sighed as she picked up the notebooks and followed Cabiria down the corridor to the latest section of unexplored tunnels. Professor Locke was adamant that no one else was allowed down into the tunnels, even though a few extra pairs of hands would have made life so much easier. Cabiria had pointed out that he was worried about losing credit for whatever he discovered, but it still struck Emily as absurd. It wasn’t as if there would be a shortage of volunteers.

We’re looking at the very heart of Whitehall, she thought. Surely everyone would want to help.

She found herself looking around, uneasily, as they entered the latest section of the underground network. The corridors were caked in dust, again; there was no trace that anyone had walked through the tunnels for over a hundred years. She cursed under her breath—she would have been happier if someone had come up with a convincing explanation for the statue—as she opened the notebook and started to sketch. Professor Locke had devised a notation system to help her keep track of each part of the tunnels, even if they shifted position suddenly. Emily couldn’t help thinking that mapmaking was an exercise in futility, but it kept them busy.

And away from the crystal chamber, she thought, morbidly. What is he doing in there?

“The Grandmaster looked pleased at the last report,” Cabiria said. “What do you think he was thinking?”

Emily shrugged. Gordian could have overruled Professor Locke at any moment and insisted on allowing others into the tunnels, if he’d wished. Did he want to limit the number of people who knew what they’d found? Or was he more concerned than he wanted to admit about the possible dangers in mucking around under the school? But then, he could have resealed the gates and forbidden everyone from going down into the tunnel network at any moment. His behavior didn’t make sense.

“I suppose he’s balancing politics with practicalities,” Cabiria added, after a moment. “The person who cracks the secret of how Whitehall was built will become very important, if they keep the secret to themselves.”

“Perhaps,” Emily said.

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