Un Lun Dun

70. The Gossamer Edifice

The bus continued its slow journey through the night. For the sake of appearances, like other hunting vehicles, they turned powerful searchlights down into the dim streets, and seemed to walk on light-beam legs.

Once a fat python of Smog rose curiously out of a lost quarter, nosing towards the bus. Rosa took them quickly up to where the wind was stronger, and the coil of cloud sank back.

Deeba held Curdle in her arms as she lay across the seats. The cardboard carton burrowed into her hug.

Tomorrow, she thought, I’m going to get the UnGun. And then we’ll have something that the Smog really doesn’t want us to. She drifted to sleep, thinking of the UnGun, and then, with sudden pangs, of her family.

She woke in the very early morning, as the bus’s anchor snared in a tangle of aerials.

“Oh my gosh,” Deeba said.

Deeba saw an area uncomfortably close to them that had become a smogmire. That was not what made her catch her breath.

They were swaying before a huge building. It was like nothing she had ever seen.

It had no straight edges, was all long curving planes stretched like cloth or rubber. In several places it poked into steep cones, and pillars and jags like tree branches jutted from beneath its shimmering, moving surface. It looked like a load of giant tents, all stitched together at crazy random, as big as a stadium. Its entire surface was white, or gray-white, or yellow-white, and it rippled.

“Oh my gosh,” whispered Deeba again. “It’s a cobweb.”

Tons of spider silk had been draped over an enormous irregular framework. It coated it completely, in layers, totally opaque. At its edges, strands of webbing jutted out at angles and anchored to the pavement and surrounding buildings like guyropes.

In one or two places, Deeba could see dark, immobile things smothered in the silk. It was wound around them in shrouds, suspending them in the building’s substance.

“That’ll be Webminster Abbey, then,” said Hemi.

They all descended, and stood together, the bus above them, in front of Webminster Abbey: Skool, Obaday Fing, Rosa, Conductor Jones, Hemi, the utterlings Bling and Cauldron, Curdle the carton, Deeba, and the book.

The cobweb church loomed before them, its strands humming as the early-morning air passed through them. The UnSun was rising, but its weak light didn’t make the abbey less threatening. It seemed to be smothered in shadow.

In several places, the silk curved inwards into tight funnels of darkness, jutting into the interior. Some were only a foot or two above the pavement, some up near the top of the steeple. They ranged from the size of a rabbit hole to that of a trapdoor.

“We’re going to have to go in one of those, aren’t we?” Hemi said.

“Book, do you know what’s inside?” Deeba said.

“The Black Window. I’m afraid I’ve got nothing more than that.”

“Alright,” said Jones cautiously. “Any ideas?”

“Firstly we’ve got to see what’s in there,” said Deeba. “So we just look in, really quick, then get out again and make a plan.”

They looked at each other uncomfortably.

The building was surrounded by a marquee of web, whorls of silk, and web archways. It was like twilight in the cobweb shade. Jones threw a stick into one of the cylindrical tunnels, and they all tensed.

The stick bounced and rolled out.

“Well, it’s not sticky,” said Deeba.

They crept up the silk slope towards the hole. It was like walking on a trampoline.

Skool had to stop. The diving boots were too heavy. They didn’t rip the silk, but sank too deep to walk.

“You’ll have to wait outside,” whispered Deeba. Skool slumped, and backed out of the tunnel. Obaday Fing was clutching his box of scissors, thread, and mirrors as if for comfort.

“You should go with Skool, Obaday,” she said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Make sure there’s no trouble outside.”

“Alright then,” he whispered. “You be careful.” He crept back.

Hemi, Jones, and Rosa were all smiling at Deeba. Even the utterlings seemed to be, in their mouthless way.

“That was kind,” Hemi said.

“Shut up,” said Deeba. “We needed someone outside.”

“Oh, of course,” said Jones.

Deeba grinned grudgingly, looked up— and froze. Something was plummeting out of the shade above them.

“Jones!” she shouted.

The thing came down at tremendous speed. It loomed out of shadow too fast to see clearly, dark, and big, and angled, with limbs splayed.

It dropped over Rosa, and rose again, and disappeared.

Rosa was gone.

“No!” shouted Jones, and jumped, but there was nothing above them. Their attacker had soared into the overhanging web, into the shadows and out of sight.