Alan glanced at me. ‘What?’
‘I was on my way to the Bureaucratic Suite when I bumped into you. I ought to head there and focus harder on the four missing worms. I can still re-trace their routes and search for more clues.’
He touched my arm lightly. ‘I won’t take up much of yourtime. And it’s a good opportunity to update you on my graffiti investigation.’ A familiar noise rumbled towards us. ‘The worm is almost here so we may as well continue. I’ll get you to the main cavern and the Bureaucratic Suite within an hour.’
An annoying spot behind my shoulder blades itched. ‘Okay.’ I nodded. ‘Okay.’
The worm that arrived was as large as Dusty. I smiled and reached for the area on its flank that Penelope had shown me on my first day and the worm grunted with satisfaction as I scratched. I was definitely warming to these strange creatures. ‘What’s this fellow’s name?’ I asked.
Alan had already climbed aboard. He looked over his shoulder, his expression blank. ‘Oh,’ he frowned. ‘Uh, Eve. Yes … Eve.’
Eve jerked her head and her lantern jangled. ‘Hi, Eve,’ I said.
She squeaked and I paused before glancing up at Alan once again. I nibbled on the inside of my cheek then patted her a final time before heaving myself up the small rope ladder to join him on top of the worm’s massive body.
‘She’ll take us most of the way,’ Alan said. ‘We’ll only have to walk the last section.’
I gave him a distracted glance, my thoughts temporarily elsewhere.
As soon as the worm moved off, Alan started to talk at length about the graffiti in Danksville. I was only half-listening. ‘You know, some of the artwork is extraordinary.’
I plucked at my sleeve. ‘Mmmm.’
‘I’ve discovered that a troll called Melissa Barnes is responsible for the graffiti closest to the river. She studied at St Martin’s College in London.’
‘Really?’ I widened my eyes to indicate my feigned interest as I sifted and sorted through all my memories of the past week.
‘Yes.’ Alan grinned. ‘And the other two have bound magicinto their work. There’s considerable talent on display. I’ve spoken to a gallery owner in Broughton who might be interested in selling some of their work for a decent price.’
I adjusted my bag on my shoulder. ‘I’m not convinced that capitalism and street art are natural bedfellows.’
‘Your innocence is sweet, Kit. Everyone loves money.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘Doyou?’
His response was swift. ‘I do. You can’t pretend that you believe anyone enjoys poverty.’
I didn’t miss a beat. ‘How far would you go for money, Alan?’ I kept my tone light but I really wanted to hear his answer.
‘I’m a vampire. I’m already wealthy.’
I pretended I hadn’t heard that. ‘Would you steal?’
‘If I needed to, if I was desperate, then yes, I suppose I would.’
‘Would you hurt someone?’
‘That’s a loaded question, Kit.’
‘Would you kill?’
Alan recoiled. ‘Would you?’ he asked pointedly.
Damn. That was one question I couldn’t answer honestly. I shrugged and half-smiled. Thankfully Alan smiled back.
A few minutes later the worm came to a halt and we disembarked. ‘We’re going this way,’ he said, pointing towards a wide tunnel that stretched away to our left.
‘Lead the way,’ I told him, keeping my tone light.
