Chapter 5

She started off down the path almost jauntily. Vincent knew that it was for his benefit, and that she was scared. However, there was nothing he could do about it. He watched her go with some misgiving: it was so easy to get lost in the tunnels. The route to the spring that he had drawn for her was not a difficult one, though. She should be back well within two hours, even if she stopped to bathe, as he had suggested. He told himself that she would be all right, and turned back to the splint that he was whittling from a broken piece of timber.

Catherine walked briskly along the path, telling herself that she wasn’t scared. But she was; the torch that she carried was her only light, and it stood alone between her and a lonely death. The two water bottles bumped gently against her hip as she walked along. I’ve got to do this, Vincent’s life depends on it.

She found Vincent’s map to be accurate and easy to follow. After half an hour she began to feel humidity in the air as Vincent had said she would, and shortly after that she came around a corner and found the water spread before her, sparkling in the light of her torch.

"Oh…my goodness!" She raised the torch higher and gasped as the walls and ceiling above the spring shone back at her in a myriad of brilliantly glittering stony facets. Vincent had not told her how beautiful it was, he had only said that the water was warm, and that she might want to get into it and soak for a few minutes. "It’s a mineral spring. It will soak away a great deal of soreness in a short time." were his words.

Following his instructions, she turned to her right and walked along the edge of the pool. There she found a kind of beach, where the cavern floor sloped gently down and continued to slope under the water to make a perfect bathing place.

"Yes! Oh, that looks wonderful!" Catherine quickly piled rocks to hold the torch upright, a trick learned from Vincent, and began to shed her clothes. Steam curled gently up from the hot water as she waded in and sank down thankfully into the welcome heat. "O-o-o-h, that’s just a miracle." She found a rock along the edge of the pool to rest her head on, stretched out bruised arms and legs to float in the gently flowing mineral-laden water, and promptly went to sleep.

Vincent began to worry when more than two hours had gone by. He knew that her torch wasn’t good for much more that that, and although he had provided her with extra matches, it was necessary that she have something to burn. He was concerned that he wasn’t able to sense her very well, hadn’t been for some time. He was afraid that she’d gone to sleep. He’d done it himself in that pool.

He began to lay plans.

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When Catherine awoke, although she had no idea how long she’d been asleep, she knew she was in trouble. Her torch’s flame was only about half as high as it had been when she went to sleep.

As she threw her clothes on and checked for matches, she began a mental soliloquy. Don’t panic. If I keep a cool head, I’ll get back. If I’m not back, Vincent will come for me somehow, I know that. I just need to keep cool, so he won’t be forced to walk on that foot. I’m not in danger of my life, Vincent will come for me. She threw her clothes on, and without stopping for anything but to check for the extra matches, and to pick up the torch, she started off. Fifteen yards down the tunnel, she stopped suddenly, turned and ran back. She knelt at the edge of the pool and filled the water bottles, screwed the lids on tight, and turned once more to the tunnel. God! I’m glad I remembered that when I did!

She knew she couldn’t run all the way, but it was very hard for her to keep her pace at a steady jog trot. Every time the torch flared, her heart bounded, and she found herself sprinting. The she had to force herself back to the jogging pace. Keep a cool head, girl. I’ve run farther than this in Central Park without stopping, I should be able to keep it up, if I just keep a steady pace, and don’t lose my head. There was also the question of keeping on the correct trail. Although the way had not been difficult, it looked different when coming from the other direction. I’ll stop at every intersection and check the map, take a few breaths, and go on.

After about fifteen minutes, the torch was burning significantly lower. Catherine was reasonably sure that she was on the right trail, and she knew that it couldn’t be much further. I think I’m going to make it!

That, of course, was the moment that the torch went out.

"Oh, God." The darkness was complete. Catherine bent over, hands on knees, breathing hard. As her heart rate slowed and her breathing eased, she slid further down until she knelt on the ground. "OK," she said, out loud. "What am I going to do now?" She shut her eyes while she thought. Somehow it didn’t seem so dark with her eyes shut.

As she sat there, wondering how she was going to stay sane, she heard him. Vincent was calling her. "Catheri-i-i-i-ne…Catheri-i-i-i-ne…"

"Vincent…Vincent…I’m here" She shouted at the top of her lungs. "I’m co-m-m-ming." OK, you can do this. He’s within shouting distance, you’ll see the light in a few minutes. Don’t make him walk on that leg! Immensely heartened by the sound of his voice, she began to walk slowly forward, both hands out to the sides. She knew that there should be only one more side tunnel. It would be on her right, so she turned toward the left and walked slowly forward until the tunnel wall was under her hand. Then she turned back and began to walk steadily ahead.

She thought that it probably took more sheer guts than she’d ever needed before to keep walking ahead into the pitch dark. She felt cobwebs on the rough wall surface that was under her left hand, and the thought of spiders was almost more than she could manage. Spiders! She thought. Spiders? You’re walking through the dark in a tunnel far underground where you could die in the dark, and you’re afraid of spiders? "Vince-e-e-nt! I’m com-m-i-i-ng" She heard his answering hail, closer now. And in a few moments, maybe twenty more slow steps, she saw the first sign of light. Her steps quickened, and several more moments saw the tunnel turn, and he was there. He stood in the reflected glow of the sunlight shafting into the cavern, leaning against the rock wall, his weight on his good leg.

She was crying hard as she crossed the last space to run into his arms. He clasped her close to him, crooning softly, almost below the threshold of hearing. "…It’s all right now, you’re safe now, you’re here with me…", and soundlessly his lips moved as he added, "my love, my love…."

Her sobs slowed as she felt the safety of his embrace and heard the soft murmuring reassurance of his voice.. "Oh, Vincent, I’m so happy to be back! I was so glad to hear your voice, I don’t know if I’d have lasted without it. I was so scared when the torch went out." She moved a little back from his embrace to turn a tear-stained face up to his "It’s…it’s amazing how dark real darkness is, isn’t it?"

He smiled a little and lifted a hand to stroke the tears from her cheeks. "Underground is a special kind of dark, I agree. I thought I’d try calling before I set out looking. I felt that you had wakened, and I hoped the torch would last, but there was no way to tell. You did go to sleep, didn’t you?"

She looked down, shame-faced. "Yes."

"I understand. I’ve fallen asleep in that water myself. It’s easy to do when you’re exhausted, as you were. I’m only sorry that I didn’t think to warn you of that danger."

"It was stupid of me not to realize it myself. It certainly wasn’t your fault, anyway!"

Vincent reached down to her waist and lifted a water bottle. "Good. You did fill the bottles."

"I almost didn’t. I had to go back to do it."

Again he smiled that small smile. "That must have been hard to do, if you knew that the torch was low."

She nodded. "I’m not experienced enough in tunnel ways, I see that. I’ll bet you would have filled those bottles before you did anything else."

"That’s right. It’s good practice to make sure that the important things are done first."

"I’m learning. ---Oh, Vincent! You’re standing! For pity’s sake, sit down!"

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They spent the next couple of hours assessing their position and making plans. They sat on the ground next to the augmented rock pile while Vincent laid out in a methodical manner all of their supplies to estimate how far they would go and what would be the best ways to conserve them.

"I’m astonished at how much food you’ve got here, Catherine! How long did you tell William you’d be gone?"

Catherine chuckled. "I didn’t talk to him, Mouse did. And you know William, he always thinks it’s not quite enough, and I’ll bet Mouse encouraged that belief. William knew also that you hadn’t taken any food with you, so I’m sure he packed more than enough for three people."

"It’s true, I always have to pare down what he wants me to take on a trip into the tunnels. ‘A little bit extra never hurts’ is William’s favorite saying." Vincent shook his head as he looked over the supplies. "Well, in this case I’m certainly glad that he overestimated. We should have enough food here to last us for….hmm, I think five or six days, if we’re careful. There’s a lot of cheese and hard salami. That will keep well, and there are crackers, after the bread is gone. A little crunched now, I’m sorry to say, but crackers nevertheless. He stopped and thought for a second. "Catherine, I must tell you that I don’t think there’s much chance of a search party finding us. I have wondered if you’re hoping for that to happen."

Catherine nodded. "It had crossed my mind. Why don’t you think it likely?"

He pondered for a moment. "For these reasons: First, Mouse has never been on this route to my knowledge, so they won’t come from ahead of us. Second, the cave in that caused us to take this route will also stop searchers from coming that way, if my surmise about the suspicious tunnel wall is true. They will not be able to follow our track, so they won’t come from behind us. Third…, they…will be hesitant to search for at least a few days because they will think it possible that…that we do not wish to be found." He turned away, embarrassed to have vocalized what he knew to be a likely decision on Father’s part, but his compulsion to be honest with Catherine wouldn’t let him leave it out.

Catherine was secretly amused by his embarrassment. Does he think that I’d be anything but happy to be honeymooning here with him? The reality of what she was thinking about suddenly hit her, and a warm tide of desire flowed through her body at the thought of that honeymoon. To be held in his arms, to feel her body naked next to his, to be kissed and kissed and touched and stroked and caressed…and his body, so long held secret…to see it… to stroke it…

"…so I believe we’re on our own here…Catherine?" Is that…" He paused, then gasped as he felt her sudden heat. It swirled through him with hurricane force, and he moaned almost soundlessly, feeling the passion of her imagined lovemaking. He shut his eyes and gave himself up for just a moment to the delicious pleasure; but he couldn’t let it last. "No! No…" He whispered, suddenly consumed with guilt, as he realized the parallel to his previous transgression. "No!"

She took a breath, coming back reluctantly from their imaginary lovemaking, and realized that she’d missed what he was saying. "Yes, Vincent?,,,"

They stared at each other, confused and disconcerted by what had happened, both of them still under the spell of the short seconds of unleashed desire.

Vincent recovered his mind and his voice first. "We’ll not expect rescue then. All right?"

Catherine looked at him, still in thrall to the previous moments. "Vincent…I don’t care if they never find us…" Her eyes never left his.

Vincent stared back at her, unable to look away. Then he spoke very softly, still gazing at her, with entreaty in his voice, "Don’t, Catherine…don’t."

She couldn’t deny him. Slowly, she closed her eyes, and lowered her head. "All right." A silence followed while both recovered their balance.

With an effort, Vincent took up where they’d stopped, it seemed hours ago. "We easily have enough to keep us going, even if it takes longer than five or six days to get back. We’ll start out with a reasonable ration every day, and if it looks like the food will run out before we’re back, we’ll have to go on half-rations. Does that sound feasible?"

"Yes, of course," said Catherine, trying hard to come back to an everyday stance. "We’ll do what we have to do." Then she added, as the meaning of what he had said came to her through her diminishing fog, "I trust that you will not make extra allowances for me." She tilted her head and stared at him soberly, until he nodded, with his small smile.

"All right, I understand. Yes, I will not make extra allowances for you…or perhaps I should say that I will apportion the food where I believe it will be best used. Is that satisfactory?"

She surveyed his expression. After a moment she decided that he meant exactly what he said without trying to deceive her, so she agreed. "All right. I can go along with that."

Vincent turned then to another matter. "A more difficult problem is torches. We have six, that’s twelve hours of light. There is a stash of torches ahead of us, but it’s a tossup whether we’ll make it there before our light runs out."

Catherine asked with curiosity and some trepidation, "Have you ever been caught in the tunnels with no light?"

"Many times. I seem able to navigate pretty well by hearing and scent, and I have a strong perception of obstacles in my path even when I can’t see. Also, there is often fungal light in the tunnels, perhaps too faint for you to sense, but I can see quite well if there’s even a small light source. We aren’t completely dependent on the torches." He paused and studied her face for a moment. "I know you must be apprehensive about the dark, but I hope that I’ve helped to set your mind at rest." His hand lifted as though he were going to touch her, then stopped and settled back in his lap.

"I won’t be afraid if I’m with you. Never…" She looked up at him with a soft smile.

Vincent looked down at that warm expression for a moment, his eyes intent. The look stretched into more than a glance as their eyes locked. Then a shadow moved over his face as if an unwelcome thought had intruded, and he turned away. After a long moment when he sat staring outward into the alternate sunlight and gloom of the cavern, he turned back to her and resumed their discussion

"I’m not infallible, certainly, Catherine, but in our present circumstance I’m concerned but not really worried." He hesitated, then continued. "I can tell you now that before you did such a…a really magnificent job in getting my leg free, I was worried. Very worried, because it’s a journey of miles to the nearest pipe, and even someone who’s familiar with these tunnels might not be able to find the way."

He looked at her for a long moment, and then stared away again into the vastness of the cavern before he continued, his voice lowered almost to a whisper: "The thought of sending you off on a journey so dangerous for you was…" Still looking off into the distant shafts of sunlight, he shook his head slightly and didn’t finish the thought. Instead he turned back to her and said, his voice now matter-of-fact, "…I’m very glad that it won’t be necessary." He shook his head slightly. "Well. We should consider the next problem facing us."

They were sitting in their place at the edge of the rockslide that had been such a disaster for them. Vincent gestured at the rocks "I hope there’s another broken beam that you can find in this rock pile. We’ll need something from which to construct a crutch." He looked ruefully at his bandaged leg. "I’m afraid that I’ll not be able to walk far without one."

Catherine tried to match his positive demeanor as she said, "I guess that means another trek over the rocks. OK. I’m really getting quite good at it." She reached for her gloves, and stood up. "The daylight won’t last forever. I’d better get started."

"You’re right, we need to get this done by daylight. Further plans can wait until dark. Now, do you know what to look for?"

"I think so. We’ll need a piece about six feet long, and light enough for me to move." She grinned. "There’s not much point in making other specifications, the ‘light enough to move’ one is the defining one, isn’t it?"

Vincent returned her smile. "Right. Six feet is good, but five will do the job. It must be strong enough to carry my weight also. We must hope that you can find something suitable." He paused for thought. "If you can’t, it’s not the end. In that event we must just wait a couple of days for my leg to heal enough to walk on."

"I’ll find something. You’re not going to walk on that leg!"

"Certainly not unless I have to."

"OK. Here I go." Catherine pulled on her gloves and waved over her shoulder as she threaded through the first rocks.

Soon she was climbing. The rock pile had changed somewhat since the last slide. As she looked up at the wall above her, she decided that most of the loose rock had already fallen. There seemed very little danger of more slides. "Thank goodness,’ she murmured to herself as she navigated over the rough tumble of stone. But as she moved further over the mound she could see that the pile now covered much more of the path. It was a long way to the other side, and she saw no sign of timbers ahead. However, there was a bend in the path, so she didn’t give up hope.

When she got past the bend she could see that there was plenty of timber. Apparently the weight of the stones had collapsed the path, which had caused a further collapse above it. When the rock came down it had carried with it all of the shoring above. There were timbers strewn on both sides of a large chasm where the path was completely gone. There was no going back on this route.

Catherine was encouraged to see the pile of splintered timbers on her side of the gap. If I can just get down there without going over the edge, I should be able to find something that will work, she thought.

She sat for a moment planning her route down to the timbers. She was getting to be quite an expert at rock-climbing. Rock crawling, that is, she smiled to herself as she began the descent on her bottom, sliding carefully down. It was only about seven or eight feet in vertical height to the bottom, but she thought ruefully of the trip back up, dragging a heavy timber with her.

There was, thankfully, a small clear space at the bottom of the slope, where she could stand and look over the available material. There was plenty of it; the choice she had to make was between something too light to carry Vincent’s weight and too heavy for her to move over the rocks.

She found what she was looking for almost at once. The timber fragment was three inches square at the large end, tapering to an inch or so at the other end. It was about nine feet long. She thought Vincent could make a usable crutch out of the piece; he could cut it off at either end until he got the length and thickness he desired. If not there were lots more to choose from, it would just require another trip over the rock pile.

She picked up the chosen fragment. It wasn’t unmanageably heavy, just awkward to carry. Well, here we go, Cathy. Watch your step, for God’s sake. She lifted the long section of wood to her shoulder and started the climb back to the top of the rocks. After about three wobbly steps, she dropped it off her shoulder. "A good way to end up with a broken leg!" she said aloud. The length of the piece made dragging it a much safer alternative.

She never remembered quite how she managed to fall.