THE POWER OF LOVE

by RITA DAVIES and LINDA S. BARTH

REFLECTIONS OF LOVE

*****

The smiling elderly man managed to fit one last item into an already bulging shopping bag, and then turned toward his waiting customer.

"Let's see now, with that box of carpet tacks your order comes to $68.27, Mrs. Marshall. Will that be cash, or do you want to put it on your charge account?"

"Oh, please put it on my account, Mr. Bailey," the woman answered quickly.

"You know that with the way things are today. I don't like to carry a lot of cash with me, especially since it'll be dark by the time I get home."

"Can't say that I blame you at all," he agreed, with a shake of his head.

"What's the world coming to anyway?"

"I'm sure I don't know. My husband keeps saying we should move out to the suburbs, but I really don't want to. We've lived in the city all our lives, and now that we're almost finished with the renovations on our apartment, it'd be a shame to give everything up."

"Ellen and I feel the same way. This is our house. Why, I've had this shop ever since I retired from the construction business back in the 60's. I don't know what I'd do with myself if I ever had to close it up and move."

Picking up her heavy bag, the woman smiled at the older man.

"Now don't even think about that, Mr. Bailey! There are so few family-run business at all any more. You can't leave us, too! I'll never be able to haul all my hardware supplies home if I have to take the subway out to New Jersey to get them at one of the malls."

Hurrying forward, Gerald Bailey opened the door for his customer.

"No worries, there, Mrs. Marshall," he assured her. "We don't have any plans to move for a long, long time."

"Well, that's good. Either Steve or I will be by later in the week to pick up that paint, okay?"

"It should be in by Thursday," he answered as she made her way out to the sidewalk. "I'll give you a call and let you know."

As he turned back toward the store's interior, he heard the phone ringing and hurried toward the main counter to answer it.

"I'll get it in here, Dad," came his daughter's voice, from the small office toward the back of the store. "I think it's for me anyway."

The store was empty of customers and in the relative quiet, Ellen Bailey's side of the conversation could be clearly heard. Her father winced at the tone of his daughter's voice, and once again he wished it was within his power to change things for her.

"No, Nick, I haven't forgotten about our date tonight. I'll be ready on time... I didn't answer the phone upstairs because I've been down in the store working all day. Of course, I'm not trying to avoid you. Why would you think such a thing?... I'm sorry, Nick. Please! Don't talk like that... All right...all right... I'll be ready in an hour... I said I was sorry, Nick... No, I don't mind just meeting you at the restaurant. See you in a little while then."

She sighed as she put down the phone receiver and ran a shaking hand through her curly dark brown hair. It's always the same, she told herself, always. I know he means well, but when will he see that I'm not a possession. Sometimes I just feel smothered... and so tired of it all. Maybe...

The tinkling sound of the bell on the store's front door announced the arrival of another customer and gently pulled her from her reverie. Drawing in a deep breath, she shook her head, sending the glossy curls bouncing around her small, heart-shaped face.

"Nick loves me, I know he does. Things could be much worse," she whispered aloud.

Her brave words were little comfort, but she knew that for now they would have to be enough. Making her way back into the cluttered store, she found her father deep in animated conversation with a youngster who appeared to be about twelve-years old. The boy looked familiar to her and almost at once she realised he was one of Gerald's friends, from the group she'd heard him refer to as “Below.”

The boy looked up and smiled at her as she approached the counter. "Hi, Miss Bailey," he called out. "Nice to see you again."

"It's nice to see you, too," she answered, searching her memory for his name.

"You remember Kipper, don't you, Honey?" Her father quickly came to her rescue, hoping the child hadn't noticed. "Jacob has sent him for a few supplies they need for repairs to some pipeworks. Now, let's see, son, I've got everything on the list except this last item. Well, actually, I've got that here somewhere, too, but it's going to take a while to find it. Can you wait while I look?"

"Gee, Mr. Bailey," the boy answered with a worried frown. "I was supposed to be back before dark, and I'm really late as it is. Would it be all right if I come back in the morning to pick it up instead?"

"Sure, Kipper, that'd be fine, but I hate to put you to the trouble. Tell you what, if I find it in the next half hour or so, I'll see that it gets to you tonight, and if not, you can come by for it tomorrow. What do you say to that?"

"That's be great, but I don't want to put you to any trouble either," Kipper answered worriedly.

"Don't even think about it," Gerald replied with a wide smile as he helped the boy hoist the bag of supplies into his arms. "I like being able to help out."

"Well, thanks a lot, Mr. Bailey! I have one more stop to make before heading back home, and then I'll be finished with everything tonight. When I tell Father I won't have to skip my chores again tomorrow morning, maybe he won't be so mad at me!"

Gerald winked at him. "Good luck, Kipper! See you soon."

"Good night, Mr. Bailey. You, too, Miss Bailey," he called, before disappearing out into the darkened city streets.

"Such a nice boy," Gerald commented. "Too bad more kids nowadays aren't as conscientious and polite as he is."

"Not just kids," Ellen murmured before she could stop herself.

"Aw, Honey, what's the matter?" he asked, putting his arm around her narrow shoulders. "Is Nick giving you a hard time again."

"No, not really, Dad. It's just the usual thing. If I'm not where he expects me to be, he gets upset. I suppose I should be glad he's concerned about me."

"That's not what I'd call it, Ellen," her father protested. "Maybe you should... "

"I don't want to talk about it," she interrupted gently. "What is it you needed to find for Kipper? I can help you look for a few minutes, but then I have to go get ready for my date. I have to meet Nick at Mario's at eight o'clock, and it's not going to help matters at all if I'm late."

Casting her a final worried look, Gerald let the subject drop. "He needs a certain kind of caulking for copper pipes. I know we had some a while back and I don't think it's sold out. Try looking in those bins near the soldering equipment, and I'll check over by the electrical supplies."

Several minutes later Ellen pulled two bulky tubes of the desired substance from the depths of an over-crowded shelf and held one aloft.

"Is this it, Dad?" she called out as she made her way toward her father.

"That's it!" he answered. "It was the most important thing on the list, so they'll be glad to get it right away. Ellen, do you think you could drop it off, so that Kipper won't have to come by again in the morning? There's a place you could leave it right on your way to the restaurant."

"Oh, Dad, I don't know," she began. "I really don't have any extra time as it is, and I still have to change and everything."

She glanced toward the wide glass window of the store front and saw that the dark streets were nearly deserted. She didn't like the idea of her elderly father venturing out alone in the damp evening air, especially when he had been fighting off a cold for several days, and since she would be leaving soon anyway, she knew it would be senseless and petty to deny his small request.

"Well, if I really hurry, it should be fine. Where to this time - the same place as last month?"

Gerald smiled gratefully. "Thanks a lot, honey. Yeah, just go right over to Ben Kellerman's bookshop. I'll call him to say you'll be there soon and he'll have all the arrangements made. I really appreciate it, Ellen."

"I know, Dad." She smiled as she dropped a gentle kiss on his furrowed brow. "I'll be down in a few minutes. If Nick calls again, tell him I will definitely be at the restaurant at eight, okay?"

As she dashed toward the stairs at the back of the store that led to their second floor apartment, she didn't see the frown deepen on her father's worn face, nor did she hear his heartfelt sigh of concern and frustration.

Twenty minutes later, she pushed open the door of Ben Kellerman's shop and hurried inside, her high-heeled shoes making a rapid clattering attack upon the worn marble floor. She quickly spotted her father's friend ringing up a sale for one of several customers lined up at the cash register.

"Hi, Mr. Kellerman," she called out. "Dad said to leave this package here - that you'd know what to do with it."

Ben shot her a quick glance as he handed one customer his package and reached for the stack of books held by the next one.

"Hi, Ellen! It's wild in here tonight and I'm short-handed. Do me a favour and take it downstairs for me, will you? It's the door in the back." He indicated the direction with a sharp tilt of his head. "It's unlocked. Just leave the bag anywhere you can find space for it. Thanks a lot!"

"But," she began frantically. "I don't have time to..." Her voice halted abruptly as she realised Ben had already dismissed her. "Oh, for heaven's sake," she muttered as she almost ran toward the door. "This is becoming impossible!"

Groping for the wall switch, she watched as the lights flickered on and illuminated her path down a long staircase to the shop's basement.

"This is also becoming weird," she murmured, as she reached the bottom and walked into the room crowded with cartons and boxes of books. "Why would it be easier for Kipper to pick up his package in Ben Kellerman's basement than at our shop only five blocks away?"

She turned to survey the room, trying to find a suitable place to leave the bag, but every shelf and surface seemed to be full of books. Glancing at her watch, muffled she saw she had less than a half hour to spare, and knowing the walk to the restaurant would take at least twenty minutes, she decided to set the bag near the bottom of the stairs where it would surely be found.

Just as she put one foot on the bottom step, she heard a faint but distinct scraping noise from a far corner of the room. A shiver raced up her spine as she froze in place and then turned cautiously in the direction of the mysterious sound. Dumbfounded, she watched as a small section of bookcases swung outward, revealing a familiar figure silhouetted in subdued, smoky light that seemed to come from somewhere far below him.

The two stared at one another in shock and then spoke at once.

"Kipper!"

"Miss Bailey!"

"What are you doing here?"

Finding she could breathe once again, Ellen managed a shaky smile.

"You first."

An extremely worried look transformed the adolescent's face to one of a very young child he'd been not so long ago. His voice shook as he offered a brief explanation that told her nothing at all.

"I came to get the package from your Dad."

"I figured as much, but why here? What's going on?"

The sound of the door opening at the top of the basement staircase saved Kipper from any further explanation.

"Ellen? Are you still down there?"

"Yes, Ben, and if your customers are gone, I think you should join me. I'm not alone."

A muffled expletive brought a grin to both faces as Ellen and Kipper heard Ben's footsteps pounding on the floor above them as he ran to lock the shop's front door and then sped down the stairs to join them.

Looking from one astonished face to the other, Ben smiled sheepishly. "Well, I suppose this was bound to happen sooner or later," he commented. "How your father kept this a secret all this time, Ellen, I'll never know. I take it you two are acquainted?"

"Yes, we are, but I'm totally confused, Ben," Ellen answered. "Can one of you explain this to me?"

By now Kipper had regained some of his confidence and began to relate a story well-rehearsed by all the tunnel children. "Miss Bailey, I guess you didn't know this but there's a series of old, abandoned tunnels just below street level all over the city. Those of us who know about them just use them as a means of transportation from one connected building to another. That's all - it's just a neat way to get around the city."

"Sure saves a lot of time and it's great in bad weather," Ben offered. "So, Kipper, here's the stuff Father wanted. You better be getting home now."

"Right, Mr. Kellerman," Kipper agreed quickly. "See ya!"

Grabbing the bag from the man's outstretched hand, Kipper disappeared from view before Ellen could say another word. She watched in disbelief as Ben began to swing the bookcase panel shut once again.

Managing to find her voice, she began, "You don't expect me to believe that crazy story, Ben! What's really..."

Her questions were cut short by the sound of a high-pitched scream from somewhere just below them, followed by a cry for help.

"Come on, follow me!" Ben ordered as he shoved the panel open. "There's a ladder here. Be careful!"

Hurriedly Ellen did as she was told. Moments later, feeling like Alice down the rabbit hole, she felt her feet touch a concrete floor as Ben helped her down the last rungs. They were in what appeared to be a sub-basement storage facility, but as her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light she could see an opening at the far end of the narrow room, its reaches softly illuminated by murky light. Once again they heard the sound of a child's cry for help coming from that same doorway and they ran toward it.

Just beyond the entryway lay a small boy writhing in obvious pain as he clutched his left leg to his chest. There were scrapes on his freckled cheeks and blood oozed from between the small fingers clasped around his knee. A battered, child-sized pair of wire-rimmed glasses lay nearby. The boy appeared to be alone, but within seconds Kipper reappeared and quickly knelt at his friend's side.

"You'll be okay, Eric," he reassured him, gently laying a hand on the younger boy's sandy hair. "I called for help. Someone will be here in a minute to get you home.

Blue eyes flickered open for a moment and then squeezed shut again in pain. "Thanks, Kipper," he whispered.

"My God!" Ben exclaimed. "What happened here?"

Kipper looked up worriedly. "Eric came looking for me. He wanted to tell me to hurry or I'd be in big trouble for being late for dinner again. We started to run, but he slipped and fell. He shouldn't walk and I don't think I can carry him all the way back by myself, so I called on the pipes for help."

Ellen knelt down and gently touched Eric's pale cheek. "Eric? Can you hear me? You didn't hit your head, did you?"

He opened his eyes again and looked up at the sound of a kind voice. "No, just my knee, but it hurts pretty bad." His eyes widened as he tried to focus on the stranger's face. "Hey, who're you?"

"My name is Ellen Bailey, Gerald Bailey's daughter from the hardware store. And you must be Eric, right? I think I've seen you in the store with Kipper now and then."

"Yeah, but I couldn't come this time." The child's natural curiosity distracted him from his pain and fear. "But I thought you didn't know about Below - just your Dad did."

Ben and Kipper exchanged rueful looks. "Well, I guess she does now, Eric," Ben commented. "But I've known Ellen for a long, long time and I'd say she's one who can keep a secret."

Ellen smiled down at Eric. "You're sure your head's okay?" she asked, gently running her hand over his skull and down along his neck, checking for bumps or gouges and breathing a sigh of relief when she found none. "Here then," she continued, easing his head and shoulders onto her lap. "You'll be more comfortable until help arrives."

"Miss Bailey, you're all dressed up and this floor is pretty dirty," Kipper cautioned. "Want me to do that?"

"That's all right, Kipper. I don't mind. But you did say more help is coming? How did you call them?"

"Hear that sound?" Ben asked. "It's very faint along here, but if you concentrate you'll be able to pick it out."

Ellen listened for several seconds and then looked up at him. "You mean that tapping sound? What is it?"

"It's people talking on the pipes, Miss Bailey," Kipper told her. "That's how I called for help."

Ellen was beginning to feel more and more like Alice. "I think after all this, you can call me Ellen," she told the boy. "And can you explain this pipe business? I'm not sure I understand at all."

Before anyone could say another word, the distant tapping of the pipes was consumed by the stronger sound of running footsteps rapidly approaching the small group at the tunnel entrance. Moments later two men, dressed in the same unusual style of clothing that Ellen had noticed Kipper and Eric wore, rounded a corner and came to a halt nearby.

A tall, wiry man quickly approached Kipper. "We got your call for help. What happened to Eric?"

As Kipper and Ben offered Cullen a brief explanation, the second man carefully crouched down at the younger boy's side. His voice was as gentle as the touch of his hand on the child's head.

"Are you all right, Eric?" he asked. "Are you in much pain?"

"Hi, Pascal." He managed a small smile for his friend. "I guess I'm okay - except for my knee. I was running and I wasn't watching where I was going."

"Did you bump your head when you fell?" Pascal continued, his voice calm but edged with concern.

"Nah, my head's all right. Besides, Ellen already checked it at least three times."

For the first time since his arrival, Pascal had eyes for someone other than the injured child. As he raised his head, he found himself looking upon the face of a stranger, a face he felt in an instant was the loveliest he had ever seen. The dim light of the tunnels did not disguise the sparkle in her big, brown eyes, the gleam of her dark, wavy hair, or the smile that illuminated her delicate features. It was almost as if that smile touched his very heart, and in shock he realised he had been staring at her for several seconds without saying a single word.

Embarrassed, he looked away, but was immediately drawn back by the sound of her voice.

"My name is Ellen Bailey. I'm Gerald Bailey's daughter, you know, from the hardware store? And I take it you must be Pascal?"

At his nod, she continued. "I think Eric's all right, except, as he said, for the knee. Will you be able to get him to a doctor to be examined just to make sure?"

"Yeah, Father's a doctor. He can fix me up," Eric offered.

"Oh, that's wonderful," Ellen replied in disbelief. "Then I guess we should get him to his father right away."

"Not my father," Eric piped up. "I mean... "

"Yeah, we all know what you mean," Cullen interrupted, reaching down and carefully but quickly scooping the child up into his arms before heading back in the direction he'd come. "Let's get going - now!"

"See you later, Miss Bailey... I mean, Ellen! Bye, Mr Kellerman!" With that Kipper picked up Eric's glasses where they had rested on the dusty floor, and then he disappeared just as quickly as had Cullen and Eric.

Carefully rising to his feet, Pascal reached down a hand to assist Ellen. As their fingers met, they both thought they felt a sudden tingling sensation, but swiftly chased the thought away as just a silly notion. Yet Pascal found himself holding her hand for a heartbeat longer than he needed to, and it was with an odd reluctance that he let her go.

"It was nice to meet you, Ellen," he said, glancing nervously in the direction of his vanished companions. "Thanks for your help with Eric. You, too, Ben. Uh, I'd better go now."

In astonishment, Ellen watched as Pascal ran to catch up with the others. She had no idea where the passageway would take them and turned to Ben, her questions plainly reflected in her pretty face.

"I'd like to help you out, Ellen, but I don't think I'm the one to do it. I'm sorry, but you'll have to talk to your father about all this."

She knew it was useless to protest and followed as Ben led the way back up into the bookstore. In the bright light of the shop, she caught sight of her somewhat disheveled appearance and cried out in dismay.

"What's the matter?" Ben asked in concern. "Oh, you don't look too bad - just a bit dusty. You can freshen up in the restroom before you go, if you'd like."

Steeling herself, she looked at her watch and winced to see the time. "I was supposed to meet someone ten minutes ago, and even if I find a cab, I'll still be at least fifteen minutes late," she told him. "I'll just have to go like this."

"Wait a second," he said, helping her to brush most of the dust from her skirt. "That's a lot better. Now, go have a good time - and, Ellen, it would be for the best if you didn't mention anything about this to anyone. Just talk it over with your father in the morning, okay?"

"Sure, Ben," she answered as she rushed for the door, rubbing a tissue over her soiled hands. "I'd say I understand, but I don't!"

Ellen got her next surprise of the night when a cab pulled up right in front of the bookstore. Within minutes she was entering the restaurant, hurriedly making her way between the crowded tables toward Nick. Breathlessly, she sank into ehr chair and looked across the small table at her companion's dark expression. In her haste and nervousness, she hadn't thought to prepare an excuse to offer him and suddenly found herself speechless.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to begin. "Nick, I'm sorry I'm late. I...”

His steely grey eyes seemed to bore into her as he spoke, and his voice was just as cold and hard as the look in his eyes. "You said you'd be here at eight. It is now eight twenty-one. Where were you?"

In spite of her trepidation, Ellen felt a small flicker of anger and hurt flare within her. He doesn't even care if I'm all right, she thought, or if something serious happened to make me late. All he cares about is that I wasn't here when he ordered me to be.

"I asked you a question, Ellen, and I expect an answer."

The icy tone of his voice had a power all its own that effectively annihilated her one tiny hint of heated protest. She covertly glanced down at the table and noted his empty glass. That he had been drinking was not a good sign, nor was the fact that he had deliberately chosen a table in the smoking section, when he knew that cigarette smoke always badly irritated her eyes. It would not do to anger him further.

"I'm sorry, Nick, really, but I couldn't help it. Just as we were closing up, several last-minute customers came in and I couldn't leave Dad all on his own with them." The easiness of the lie startled her but she managed to conceal the feeling from him. "Then by the time they left, I barely had a chance to comb my hair and jump in a cab. I'm so sorry you had to wait, but you do understand, don't you, Nick?"

She hated the way her voice had taken on a pleading note. It made her think of a dog groveling at its master's feet.

"It doesn't seem to matter to you if I understand or not," he hissed. "You obviously think I'm supposed to be grateful just because you finally decided to show up." He gestured commandingly to a passing waiter. "Order your dinner," he told her, as she reached for the proffered menu. "I've got other plans for the evening."

With effort she kept her voice even as she made her selections, yet in her heart she felt a heavy sense of dread at the meaning behind his words. At one time she had welcomed his attentions, finding his possessiveness flattering and his passion exciting. Now she felt a sense of fear and foreboding that grew stronger each time they met. She knew she must find a way out of this entrapment before it was too late.

She watched his face as he ordered a second drink from the hovering waiter. Agains he was struck by the flat, almost metallic coldness of his eyes, and she could not help but compare their lifelessness with the soft glow she'd seen in another pair of eyes, eyes that had looked with concern at a young child and, for just a moment, with an unexpectedly tender warmth at her.

***

"You're sure you're all right for now, Eric? You don't need anything?"

The young boy smiled up at the tall, imposing figure by his bed.

"Nope! Samantha and Geoffrey are going to play a game with me in a while, and then Kipper said he'd read me a story. But thanks for asking, Vincent."

"Well, be sure to try and stay as still as possible," cautioned the woman at Vincent's side. "Remember that Father said you're not to do anything that will disturb the stitches he had to put in your knee."

"I won't forget, Catherine," Eric promised, his grin widening in his thin face.

“The best part is I can't take a bath cause the stitches aren't supposed to get wet. Father said so himself!”

The couple smiled back at him as Vincent added, "However, I believe Mary will be in later to give you a sponge bath. That won't interfere with your injuries at all."

They had to try hard not to chuckle at the boy's crest-fallen expression. His young friends, having just entered the chamber in time to hear Vincent's comment, did not have the same amount of respect for Eric's dignity.

"Yeah, and then you won't be smelling up the place!" Geoffrey announced with a grin.

"Geoffrey, that's disgusting!" Samantha protested amidst a flurry of giggles. "But I suppose it's true."

Their good-natured teasing didn't faze Eric at all, and as Vincent and Catherine left the chamber hand-in-hand, the three children had already begun setting up the promised board game on Eric's bed.

As they reached a juncture of the main passageways leading to and from the home chambers, Vincent looked down lovingly at Catherine.

"It seems we have the afternoon free," he said with contentment. "Where would you like to go?"

The joyful smile she returned to him lit up her lovely face. "I can't believe we have hours and hours to spend - just the two of us! Let's keep moving before someone changes our plans! Can we go up to our special place near the top of the Great Falls? We haven't been there in ages."

Vincent's heart raced as he nodded and, still grasping her hand in his, he turned them in that direction. The small, secluded chamber and ledge was a place he'd discovered years earlier. It was almost invisible from other vantage points in the gigantic chamber and, even if one knew where to look, it seemed inaccessible to all but the most experienced and daring climbers. However, Vincent had discovered a long, winding, but easily traversed path to reach it, and that was the route they headed for now.

They had almost reached the turning-off point that would take them the final length of their journey, when they met a small, quiet man approaching them from an adjacent passageway.

"Pascal, I'm surprised to see you away from the Pipe Chamber," Catherine called out. "Are you out for a walk like we are?"

"Hi, Catherine, Vincent," he replied. "No, I was just checking up on the repairs we did yesterday. There's a section of old copper pipes that needed patching."

"Did everything go well?" Vincent inquired. "Do you need any help with it?"

"Everything's fine, thanks. All we have to do now is solder a few weak spots, and since Kipper picked up the supplies we needed at Bailey's yesterday, we can finish it this afternoon. I just hope the repairs won't alter the tone of the pipes themselves," he added worriedly.

"But if that happens, you'll be able to adjust the codes, won't you?" Catherine asked. "After all the time you spent with me over the past several months, teaching me the codes and procedures, I'm willing to believe there's no challenge those pipes can offer that you can't overcome. It's an amazing system that you've developed!"

Pascal smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Catherine, but I didn't do it on my own."

"Maybe not," Vincent offered. "But after the original designers set the basic plans in place, you have been the one to keep the system updated and running efficiently. I can't imagine what it would be like trying to communicate without your pipes."

Somewhat uncomfortable with that well-deserved praise, Pascal turned their conversation to other matters, hoping to obtain some information about someone who had occupied his thoughts since the night before.

"Have you been to see Eric today?" he began. "I looked in on him after breakfast, but he was still sleeping."

"Yes, we just left him and he seems to be back to normal. In fact, he took great pleasure in informing Catherine and me that with his injuries he felt he'd be excused from bathing for the foreseeable future."

Pascal smiled. "That sounds like our Eric," he agreed. "But I'll bet Father and Mary will change his plans soon enough."

"You're right," Catherine told him. "And thank goodness you and Cullen were nearby when the accident occurred. It would have been impossible for Kipper to carry him all the way home, and if he'd had to walk that distance, he'd have been in far worse shape."

Pascal nodded. "Yes, I'm glad we were close… Did he tell you anything more about what happened, about the other people who were there?"

Vincent cast his friend his appraising look. "Yes, he mentioned that Ben Kellerman had come Below when he cried out and Kipper yelled for help, and also that he met a stranger from Above - Ellen Bailey. Her father has been a Helper for many years, but as far as I know, this was Ellen's first exposure to our world."

Catherine's face took on an expression of alarm. "Is she trustworthy, Vincent? Does she know not to speak of even the little that she saw here?"

"I think so," Pascal answered before he could caution himself not to speak so hurriedly. All eyes turned toward him, and he offered what he hoped was a believable explanation. "I mean, Ellen's father has been completely reliable for a very long time, so I think we can depend upon his daughter to keep our secret, too. Besides, she seemed like a very nice girl."

Even in the hazy tunnel light, Vincent and Catherine could see the blush that crept over Pascal's face and merged with his seemingly casual comments, to reveal secrets that had taken root in his heart.

"Well, I'm sure you're right, Pascal," Vincent said. "But nevertheless, Father must know about this matter. Have you told him about it?"

Nodding, Pascal replied, "Yes, Cullen and Kipper and I went over everything with him after dinner last night. He feels he can trust Gerald Bailey to explain things to his daughter, and just to be sure, he's going to send word he'd like to talk with him and find out if there seems to be a problem."

"Good," Vincent answered. "I'm sure Father will handle any difficulties that might arise." He felt Catherine surreptitiously squeeze his hand and knew that she was as anxious to be on their way as he was. "Pascal, did you say you were on your way back to the Pipe Chamber before you join the work crew?"

Pascal smiled again. "Yes, I'll stop by and made sure Zach and Jamie are handling things okay, before I get to work on the repairs. I don't like to leave them on their own for too long. Was there a message you wanted sent out?"

Unable to resist a smiling glance in Catherine's direction, Vincent nodded in agreement. "Yes. Please tell Father that Catherine and I have gone out for a long - a very long - walk and won't be back until the evening meal."

"Sure, Vincent," Pascal answered with a small smile of his own. "I'll do it as soon as I get back. See you two later."

"Bye, Pascal," Catherine called out as they watched him hurry away toward the home tunnels. She then pulled Vincent in the direction they needed to take. "Let's get out of here before the rest of the family shows up!"

Vincent needed no coaxing, and soon Catherine found she had to work at matching her strides to his swift, long-legged gait.

"Vincent," she gasped. "Slow down a bit, okay? Otherwise, by the time we get there, I'll be exhausted!"

Instantly contrite, Vincent immediately slowed their pace to a more relaxed tempo.

"I'm sorry, Catherine," he told her. "I just wasn't thinking."

Her light laughter filled the dusky passageway. "Oh, you were thinking, Vincent - it just wasn't taking a walk that you were thinking about!"

His answering chuckle sent a warm thrill through her body. "I think you're right, Catherine."

For a long time, both before and after meeting Catherine, Vincent had gone to his place of solitude in the Chamber of the Falls, to be alone with his thoughts and feelings, to cope with his fears and doubts and dreams. The isolation had given him the time and space he'd needed to sort through all the myriad emotions and impressions that washed over and through him, especially since an April night four years earlier, when he'd found the woman to whom he had willingly given his heart. Even in the darkest days following his breakdown, when Catherine and Father had devoted themselves to guiding him through his long recovery from hideous nightmares, he'd sometimes found himself dreaming of this place of sanctuary, and he vowed he would someday bring Catherine there and share his special place with her.

It was there that he talked to her of the tortured dreams he had suffered when he had hallucinated that she was lost to him forever. and it was there that she had cried with him and comforted him. And as weeks and months passed and the two attained a greater closeness and understanding than ever before, it was there in that wondrous place that they had first become lovers.

Now as they walked along the familiar, secret pathway, the shared memory of that first magical time sent waves of excitement and warmth flickering through their bond. For while, their hideaway was a refuge where they might just talk or read or simply enjoy each other's company without interruption. It was also a haven where they could love in blissful privacy.

Gently swinging their clasped hands between them, Vincent looked down to find Catherine gazing up at him, the expression on her face a mirror image of the anticipation and delight he knew she was on his own.

"I don't need our bond in order to discern your emotions this afternoon, Catherine," he said, his mouth curving into the unique smile that she loved.

She shook her head, sending the honey-coloured strands swirling about her face and shoulders. "No, I guess you don't," she replied with an answering smile. "And I don't have to ask if you feel the same. I can see the answer in your eyes."

Pausing almost in mid-stride, he pulled her into his arms and in a heartbeat had lowered his eager mouth to hers. She responded ardently, winding her arms around his neck and pulling her slender body up to press fervently against the hard strength of his. Seconds later he released her, gasping at the intensity of their instantaneous response to one another.

Slowly she let her hands caress his broad shoulders and travel down his muscled arms until their hands were clasped once again. Her body still tingling from their embrace, she raised her eyebrows and then let her gaze wander from the fire in his eyes to inviting places much lower on his powerful form.

"And," she continued in a deliberately suggestive voice, "I can see the answer isn't just in your eyes."

With a playful growl, Vincent scooped her up and ran the remaining few yards to their secret place. Within moments, they lay with bodies entwined in softly worn piles or quilts and comforters they had stored in the tiny chamber for moments such as this. Their need for one another was so great that gentle kisses and caresses yielded almost instantly to a fever that inflamed their bodies and carried them forward on billowing, pounding waves.

Quickly discarding the barriers of clothing, they rushed together, savouring sensations that would never pale, revelling in a passion that once freed would never again be caged. Eager hands touched and hungry mouths tasted, as the heated harshness of their breathing reverberated around them. All too soon they would be helplessly, willingly consumed in brilliant flames.

Moaning his name, Catherine rolled onto her back, pulling Vincent with her, loving the feel of his potent body moving excitedly on hers. Parting her legs, she urged him onward, gasping as with one powerful movement he rose above her and then surged forward, joining the throbbing hardness of his body to the pulsing softness of hers. Panting heavily, he breathed her name over and over, the heated sound matching the rhythmic thrusting of their bodies.

All too soon they felt an unquenchable fire flare out of control, carrying them to its inevitable, blazing conclusion. Blissfully exhausted, they collapsed in each other's arms, savouring the waves of warmth and light that lapped around them, carrying them into a haven that they alone shared.

Much later as they slowly, lovingly helped each other dress, they talked of the miracle they had found together, giving words to the sensations of their bodies and souls. Leaning back against the rocky wall, Vincent stretched out his long legs and cradled Catherine at his side. Together they gazed out at the mist that rose in billowing iridescent clouds from far below them.

"This has always been such a magical place, hasn't it, Vincent?" Catherine sighed, in deep contentment.

"Yes," he agreed. "But never as much as it has now that we share its magic together."

She cuddled closer in response, snuggling her head against his massive chest. "I wish everyone could find the happiness that we have, love," she murmured. "It would change the entire world."

Smiling, he pressed a gentle kiss against the silky, tangled strands of her hair. "I wonder if there's such a thing as too much happiness," he mused. "I'm more than willing to risk finding out."

Laughing lightly, she turned just enough to look up at him. "So am I. And while we're making wishes, why don't we start with one for Pascal? Was it my imagination, or was he actually blushing when we were talking about Ellen Bailey?"

"No, it wasn't your imagination, Catherine. I saw it, too. That's not like Pascal, is it? I've never known him to have a romantic interest, except for one relationship many years ago when he was quite young. It ended sadly when the girl, Vanessa, found she could no longer live Below and left our world forever. I think that experience nearly broke Pascal's heart, and from that time onward, his whole life has been spent within the walls of the Pipe Chamber in devoted service to our community."

"Oh, Vincent," Catherine replied, her voice soft and sympathetic. "I didn't know. Do you think this woman – Ellen - might offer a new possibility for him?"

"All things are possible, Catherine, with love." He murmured the familiar words with heartfelt conviction. "Perhaps this is what is meant to be for Pascal and for her. We must wait and see. But, in the meantime, perhaps we should try to learn more about this woman. Pascal has been a true and loyal friend my whole life. I would not to see him hurt."

"I understand, Vincent, but we can't let our genuine concern become an interference for them. If it's meant to be, then they must be free to follow their own hearts and find their own way, just as we did."

"Yes," he acknowledged the truth in her words. "But all the same, we must help them to exercise caution. I know little of this woman, only that she is the daughter of a longtime Helper, Gerald Bailey. We met Gerald about ten or twelve years ago - or to be more accurate - Mouse introduced him to us."

"Mouse? How did Mouse meet him?" Catherine said. "I'm almost afraid to ask."

Vincent chuckled softly. "During one of Mouse's 'finding and taking' raids, he discovered a sealed off entrance to the sub-basement of Gerald Bailey's hardware store. The previous owner had been a Helper, but when the store was sold after his death, the entrance was sealed up. We thought it was secure, but evidently, we underestimated Mouse's abilities, even at a fairly early age. Mouse was only about eight or nine when he managed to work his way into the hardware shop one night, and it was the equivalent for any other child of being let loose in a candy store."

Catherine laughed in agreement as Vincent continued. "Of course, it was inevitable that Mouse was discovered. Late one night, Gerald found him filling his pockets with nails and bolts he needed for one of his inventions, and when Mouse panicked and ran for the tunnel entrance, Gerald followed. Luckily, one of the sentries - I believe it was Owen - was just leaving his watch nearby and found the two of them. He brought them to Father, and, fortunately, Gerald was very understanding. He and Father struck up an immediate friendship, and he's been a supportive and trustworthy Helper ever since."

"But what about his daughter? Why didn't she know about the tunnels after all this time?"

"I'm not entirely sure, Catherine," Vincent answered thoughtfully. "At the time of Gerald's first encounter with our world, Ellen was about twenty years old and away at college. She returned to the city a few years later, but Gerald never seemed to have any inclination to share his secret with her. From what Father has said and from what I have seen for myself, I believe Gerald's life has been one of many sadnesses and broken dreams. He was a construction worker on many of the great skyscrapers Above, but a serious accident put an end to his ability to pursue the work that he loved. That was why he opened the hardware shop. Things seemed to be going well for a while, but then his wife died quite suddenly and he was left alone."

"What a sad story, Vincent," Catherine murmured. "What happened then?"

"That was about two years before Mouse brought Gerald to us," Vincent continued. "During those two years Gerald worked at rebuilding his life, from what he's told us, but when we met him I think we all could sense a sadness about him, a melancholy that never really lifted. Like so many before him, he needed our world to heal him. In many ways we became the family he didn't have, and when Ellen was graduated and returned home to work in the store and care for him, he seemed more at peace… You've met him, Catherine, at Winterfest. He came Below with Sebastian, remember?"

"You're right, Vincent! I'd forgotten. He seems like a very nice man, quiet and introspective, but very pleasant."

"He is," Vincent agreed. "And I think the reason he has never brought Ellen Below in all these years might remain locked in his own heart. I can only guess at what it might be, but I suspect that this, our home, is a precious secret to him, one he is loath to speak of even to his daughter, for fear it might be lost to him, as have so many other treasured parts of his life."

Catherine's heart filled with sensations of love for the compassionate, generous man who had captured her heart. She hugged him tighter, gracefully pulling herself up onto his lap. "Then we must help him keep the things he loves, Vincent. But if there is some kind of relationship blossoming between his daughter and Pascal, then we must also help make sure our world is kept safe, too."

They looked into each other's eyes, their thoughtful expressions the mirror image of one another. "For all the resentment I felt toward Father those first two years," Catherine continued quietly, "now that I am truly a part of this community, I find I can understand his feelings all too well."

"Yes?"

"Vincent, I would do anything to protect you and to protect this world. As soon as I can, I will go to Gerald's shop and see if I can meet Ellen, find out more about her… what kind of person she seems to be and what, if anything, she knows about our world."

"Our world," Vincent echoed wonderingly. "How I love to hear you say that, Catherine."

"It's the truth, Vincent. I think somehow it always was… and I know it always will be."

All further words were stilled as mouths met and arms encircled, tumbling the lovers down upon the heaped and rumpled quilts, their bodies speaking a language as eloquent and timeless as the most beautiful poetry ever written.

***

Early afternoon sunlight streamed into the shop through large, slightly grimy plate-glass windows. Saturday shoppers browsed the aisles, searching out items needed for minor home repairs, knowing that they would find what they wanted. Gerald Bailey and his two part-time clerks could easily handle their customers' demands, and, knowing this, Ellen approached her father with a somewhat nervous request.

"Dad, have you got a minute?"

Gerald glanced around the store, and then nodded in ascent. "Sure, Honey. What is it?"

"I have some sandwiches for us in the office. Can you come and take a lunch break with me?"

"Don't see why not," he replied genially. "Tom, I'll be in the back having lunch with Ellen. Call me if you need me!"

"Sure thing, Mr. Bailey," the clerk called back.

Minutes later father and daughter were seated opposite each other at the battered old oak desk that took up nearly half the space in the office.

"Dad," Ellen began. "I want you to tell me what's going on with Kipper and those other people. Ben Kellerman wouldn't say a word, only that I should ask you, so now I'm asking. Will you tell me?"

Gerald looked thoughtfully at his daughter's anxious face. He knew he could trust her, and he made his decision quickly before he could allow his heart to convince him otherwise.

"Tell me what happened last night to make you ask me these questions now, Ellen, and then I'll explain what I know."

When Ellen had recounted her experiences, Gerald shared with her his meeting with Mouse and his subsequent discovery of the wondrous world Below.

"It's not that I didn't trust you, Ellen, but you didn’t really seem interested in learning more, even when I threw out a few hints now and then. And, I think somehow I just needed to keep this for myself. I guess I was selfish, but that's the way I've felt. But," he continued, a small smile curving his tired mouth. "Now that you know, I'm glad about it. I'll speak to Jacob about you becoming a Helper, too, if you'd like that. But you must always promise to keep their world a secret, Ellen, from everyone - and I mean everyone. No one under any circumstances can be allowed to endanger everything these people have built together over the years."

"I promise, Dad. I would never tell anyone," Ellen assured him. She smiled grimly. "Especially Nick... but do I have to wait until you speak to your friend Jacob? I had hoped to go and see how little Eric is doing. I want to know if he's all right."

Gerald's smile widened. "There are ways to find out without actually seeing the child, Ellen. Come on, I'll show you."

As they left the office, he paused and then called out to Tom. "Ellen's going to help me bring up some small parcels from the basement, Tom. When we come back upstairs, why don't you go on your break?"

"Sounds good to me," the clerk agreed. "Do you need any help?"

"No, thanks, we can manage." Gerald turned back toward Ellen. "Let's go. I can't wait to show you this."

Slightly mystified, Ellen followed her father, and moments later stood beside him in the sub-basement level beneath their shop, in the area they used for storing unneeded materials and supplies. A sense of deja vu swept over her as she immediately recalled similar events of the night before.

"Okay, Dad," she said with a nervous laugh. "Where's your secret doorway? I know there must be one here somewhere."

Gerald strode forward toward a six foot high stack of cartons and boxes. To even a less than casual observer, the pile looked as if it had been there forever, its grimy surfaces covered in streaks of well aged dirt. Gerald pushed lightly against the corner of one box and the whole seemingly substantial barrier slid easily aside. Behind it Ellen could see a narrow rectangular door, its outline blending smoothly with the solid concrete wall in which it was set. Gerald took a key from his pocket and unlocked the door, swinging it open to reveal a small wooden staircase, similar in length to the ladder leading from the sub-basement of Ben Kellerman's shop to the world Below.

Scrambling forward, Ellen descended the steps after her father and found herself staring ahead into the murky darkness of what appeared to be a much larger tunnel than the one she had been in the previous night. She watched as Gerald picked up a small length of metal pipe from its resting place on the dusty floor and began to tap on a larger nearby pipe that ran the length of the wall and then disappeared into the gloom beyond.

"That's what they were talking about last night - Ben and Kipper!" she exclaimed. ''They said people talk to each other on the pipes. Please, Dad, tell me how this works!"

Gerald held up a hand and cautioned her to silence. They waited together for a few minutes until an answering message had been tapped out in response to Gerald's request.

"There are a series of codes that have been designed over a period of many years. The residents of this community use the pipes to send out the codes in order to communicate with one another. There is one man, Pascal, who is called the Pipe Master. He's usually the one who's in charge of the system, but he must be busy doing something else today because my message was picked up by one of the older boys - Zach."

"I met Pascal last night," Ellen told her father. "He came with another man - I think his name was Cullen - when Kipper sent a message for help over the pipes. What did you say in the message you just sent?" Ellen's voice revealed her eagerness to learn more and her father willingly obliged her.

"First, I asked that Jacob Wells, the man everyone calls Father, be told that you would like to come Below. You'll need his permission before you go any farther, and then he'll want to talk to you before you meet anyone else, or learn anything more about the community. Zach transmitted the message and then gave us the answer. He said that two of the children - Kipper, whom you know, and a girl, Samantha - will be sent to meet you. They'll take you to see Father's chambers."

Ellen felt suddenly apprehensive. "Aren't you coming with me? I'd feel a lot more comfortable if you were."

"No, Honey, you're on your own here. I have to get back to the store, but, look, if you've changed your mind, just say so and I can send a message telling them the visit's off."

Ellen hesitated for a moment and suddenly in a mind's eye she saw the faces of two very different men. The image sealed her decision and, although she could not know it then, it also sealed her fate.

"No, Dad, don't change the message. I do want to go. I'd like to see if Eric is all right, and I really do want to know more about this amazing world you've described. But are you sure it's okay? You said that strangers aren't usually welcomed Below, without following certain procedures."

"Don't worry, Ellen," he reassured her. "The fact that I've been a Helper for more than ten years makes a difference in your case. And besides, you've already been Below, even though it was just on the outskirts. You'll be fine."

Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of Kipper and Samantha. After introductions had been made, Ellen let the children lead her into a world whose existence she never could have imagined. She saw very little at first, save various twisting and turning passageways, until they arrived at the threshold of Father's chambers.

"Don't worry, Ellen," Samantha's sympathetic voice echoed Gerald's earlier words. "Father can be kind of intimidating at first, but he's really just as nice as can be. Right, Kipper?" She looked at her friend for confirmation.

"Sam's right, Ellen," Kipper replied. "Even if she likes to show off using big words all the time. Ask somebody to call us when you're ready to leave, and we'll come back for you, okay?"

Ellen looked from one young face to the other and found reassurance in their kind, friendly expressions.

"Thanks, I will. Is it all right if I just go in?"

"Sure, Father's expecting you. See you later!"

"Bye, Ellen," Samantha called back over her shoulder as the children skittered off down as adjacent passageway, leaving Ellen alone.

Before she could change her mind, the woman took a deep breath and walked quickly down a small connecting tunnel, only to pause at the edge of a room that seemed to have magically appeared from the pages of a fairy tale book. Golden candlelight filled the outermost reaches of the chamber, reflecting off highly-polished wooden furniture, gliding the bindings of thousands of books scattered and piled everywhere, warming and softening craggy rock walls. It was Aladdin's treasure cave and King Arthur's royal throne room, all at once, and its unexpected beauty stunned Ellen into complete silence.

From his chair Father carefully observed Ellen's reaction, and gave her a moment or two to adjust to her whereabouts before he spoke. He watched carefully as she remained in stillness at the threshold to his chambers, seemingly lost in bewilderment at the very sight of the surprising world she now found herself in. Strangers Below had always alarmed Jacob, and this woman, despite her father's status as a Helper, was no exception.

With a slight sigh of misgiving, he rose from the chair and called out to her.

"Good afternoon, Ellen. Please come in."

Startled from her reverie by the sound of his voice, Ellen turned towards him and descended the small iron staircase to take his hand in the time-honoured gesture of friendship.

"Good afternoon, sir," she began. "I appreciate your letting me come to see you."

"Please, my dear, do call me Father - everyone does - or Jacob, if you prefer." He directed her to a chair opposite his own. "You must know that it is because of my friendship and respect for your father that your request to enter our world has been granted. I don't mean to sound cold or harsh, Ellen; however, there are reasons, many reasons, for those of us who make our home here to be very cautious and reserved with those whom we do not know."

When he paused for her response, Ellen immediately tried to put him at ease. "I understand, Father," she began. "Dad has told me a bit about your world, and I want to assure you that while much of it is still beyond my imagining, I would never reveal anything about it to anyone else. You have my word on that."

Jacob Wells had always thought of himself as a good judge of character, and this young woman's honest face and heartfelt words impressed him favourably.

"Thank you, Ellen. The lives of a great many people depend upon those whom we feel we can trust. Now, tell me what Gerald has told you about our community, and perhaps I can elaborate upon his information and answer some of your questions."

As the two spent a half-hour in conversation, news of the arrival of a stranger from Above was sent out far and wide over the pipes, and the message eventually reached a narrow corridor on the outskirts of the home quarters where Pascal and Cullen were just finishing their repair work.

"Phew," Cullen sighed in relief. "I'm glad that's finally finished. Now I just hope this solder holds up for at least a few years, or we're going to have to put in all new pipes in this section."

"I think it'll be all right," Pascal said, lightly running his sensitive hands over the newly-restored structures. "We've done everything we can for now. We'll just have to wait and see."

"I suppose so, but you know what we should have done? We should have arranged for someone to send a message out to us so we could - or so you could anyway - hear if the tones have changed at all."

Pascal's forehead wrinkled in concern. "Oh, great," he began. "It's way past time for me to be back in the Pipe Chamber, but we'd better wait until one…"

He abruptly cut short his words as a clear metallic tapping filled the small tunnel. At first he concentrated only on the quality of the sound itself and then heaved a sigh of relief.

"It's okay, Cullen! The tone hasn't been changed at all. We're in great shape!"

"Shhhhh," the other man hissed. "Listen to what they're saying."

Both men turned their attention to the coded words. ''A woman - a stranger from Above is with Father,'' Pascal translated, the rapidly clipped words betraying his concentration over the unexpected message. There was a momentary pause and then another person responded to the message.

"It's Eric," Cullen said. "The woman is the same one who came Below with Ben Kellerman last night when Eric was injured. He can't remember her name, but he knows who it is because Kipper and Sam told him they'd bring her to see him."

"Ellen Bailey," Pascal said quietly. "That's her name - Ellen Bailey."

As the child's message concluded, Cullen turned to answer Pascal. "Yeah, that's right. You've got a good memory. Wonder what she's doing down here?"

Gathering up their tools and materials, he continued. "What do you think she wants?"

"I don't know," Pascal answered carefully, although in his heart a wish was silently spoken. "Maybe she's decided to see if she can become a Helper like her father."

"Yeah, maybe," Cullen said, clearly losing interest in the subject. "Well, let’s get going. You said you wanted to get back to the Pipe Chamber, and I'd like to put in some time working on that doll’s house for little Emily's birthday."

"Sure, let's go."

As Pascal followed Cullen back towards the central chambers, he spared one last look at the now quiet copper pipes. The tension that transformed his gentle features had nothing to do with concern for the pipes themselves, but rather for the message they had just relayed, and even as he cursed himself for his foolishness, he knew he had to see her one more time.

Lost in thought, Pascal was startled when Cullen bade him goodbye and then turned off down a side tunnel towards his workshop. Minutes later, he reached the Pipe Chamber and entered its familiar reaches. Quickly scanning the area, he spotted his apprentice, Zach, high on a ladder leaning over a twisting section of narrow pipes to reach out with a stethoscope and listen carefully to a tapped message, just as he had been taught.

Pascal waited until Zach had relayed a response and then called out to him. "Zach, has everything gone all right? Did you have any problems?"

From his perch, Zach smiled down at his friend. "Hi, Pascal. No, no problems at all. I did everything just the way you showed me."

He swiftly descended the ladder. "I really appreciate your giving me a chance to work here on my own once in a while. It means a lot to know you have confidence in me."

"You've always been a great student," Pascal answered warmly. "I couldn't have asked for anyone more dedicated." He paused for a moment. "I guess you know it's not easy for me to leave the Pipe Chamber for too long..."

"Everyone knows that," Zach joked. "It's your home away from home!"

Pascal smiled sheepishly. "I suppose it is," he admitted. "But I'll still need some time to see to a few other things this afternoon. Would you mind staying for maybe another hour or so?"

Zach looked at the older man in surprise. "No, I don't mind at all, but where will you be just in case there's an emergency - back at the repair site?"

"Uhhhhh, no, the repairs are finished. I'll be… in Father's chamber, and uhhhh, well, in that area."

"Ok." Zach's expression revealed his curiosity at Pascal's unusual behavior, but respecting his friends' privacy, he decided not to pry.

"Take your time. I don't have anything else I need to do this afternoon, so don't worry about me."

"Thanks, Zach," Pascal answered hurriedly, as he headed back to the chamber’s entryway. "See you later."

At once he began walking towards Father's chambers, but soon felt his pace slow as waves of uncertainty washed over him. 'This is ridiculous. Acting like a teenager with a crush on a pretty girl! If I had any common sense at all, I'd just get back to work where I belong.'

Hesitating, he started to turn back towards the Pipe Chamber when he heard voices rapidly coming in his direction.

"Ellen, that was really nice of you to visit Eric," Samantha said. "He was glad to see you."

"And I was glad to see him. It was good to find him feeling so much better after the frightening accident he had."

Pascal drew in a sharp breath of air. He could visualize the smile he heard in her voice, and the captivating image robbed him of all thoughts of flight.

"Yeah, well, I think he's getting all he can out of it," Kipper suggested knowingly. "He won't have to do his chores for the next few days, and he is not going to give that up without a fight."

"That's not very nice," Samantha answered. "Don't forget he got hurt looking for you."

"Can you tell me a little about the route we are taking?" Ellen broke in quickly. "The next time I'm..." Her words came to an abrupt stop as they turned a corner and nearly walked straight into Pascal.

"I'm sorry," she began, "I should have watched where I was going. Oh, it's you – Pascal. We met last night."

"Yes," he answered quietly. "I remember, Ellen. It's - ummmm, it's nice to see you again."

"It's nice to see you again, too..." Ellen said, her voice trailing off uncertainly, as she wracked her thoughts for something else to say.

Immediately sizing up the situation, Samantha spoke. "Ellen came Below to visit Eric. Wasn't that thoughtful, Pascal?"

Tearing his gaze from Ellen, Pascal looked down at the smiling girl. "Yes, very thoughtful, Samantha, and now where are you three off to?"

"We're taking Ellen back to the entrance in the basement of her father's store," Kipper answered. "Father told us to make sure she got back safely, so we'd better get going."

Memories of a recent lecture on assuming one’s responsibilities were fresh in the boy's mind. "I really think we should do what he said."

"Oh, don't be in such a hurry, Kipper," Samantha said in exasperation. "We don't have to do it immediately, you know."

"Yes, we do. Father said so!"

Pascal's thoughts raced and he spoke up before he could convince himself not to.

"I can take Ellen back to the entrance," he said quickly. All eyes turned to him and he hoped he didn't look as nervous as he felt.

"I don't know," Kipper began. "Father said..."

To everyone's surprise - and Pascal's amazed relief - Ellen interrupted the boy's protest.

"I think Father just wanted to be sure I got back safely," she suggested. "He wouldn't mind who actually helped me get there, would he?"

"No, he wouldn't! Come on, Kipper, let's go!" Samantha grabbed her friend by the arm and almost dragged him back down the corridor, ignoring his yelp of surprise.

Feeling suddenly shy, Ellen smiled at Pascal as they were left alone in the silent passageway.

"You didn't really have to say that," she began. "You probably have a lot of work to do."

"No, that's okay. Our best apprentice, Zach, is on duty right now, so I have plenty of time. I'd be glad to show you the way back to the shop."

"Well, thanks," she answered as they began walking side by side. "This is my first visit Below… well, my first real visit after last night. I can't believe I had no idea this world existed."

"We're very careful about keeping it a secret... you know, for security reasons. There are a lot of people here whose lives depend on our keeping the community a safe place."

"That's just what Father told me," she agreed. "And please don't worry! I'll never speak of this to anyone."

"I didn't mean that," he assured her. "It's just that this is a very special world that's been built up over the years. For those of us who call it home, well, I guess it's second nature to always be on guard."

"Have you lived here for a long time?" she asked.

"All my life. I was born here and it's always been my home. My father was the Pipe Master and I learned my trade from him. I've been fortunate to have such a good life."

His simple eloquence, so different from the showy displays she'd grown accustomed to, touched her heart.

"Dad told me you were the Pipe Master now, and he explained what he knew about the system of codes. I'd really like to learn more about it sometime."

Did she ask her father about me, Pascal wondered in surprise. No, he probably just happened to mention my name. But maybe... With a slight shake of his head, he spoke aloud.

"Would you like to see the Pipe Chamber now?" he asked shyly. "We're almost there."

"I'd love to!"

Her genuine enthusiasm made his heart swell with hope, and he dared to lightly grasp her arm, in order to guide her over the threshold and into his own part of the wondrous world Below.

While Ellen received an introduction to Zach and to the heart of the underground world's communications system, Samantha and Kipper continued to bicker their way back toward Father's chambers.

"If Father complains because we didn't do what he said, I'm going to tell him it was your fault."

"Go right ahead and see if I care," Samantha retorted. "I'm not in trouble with him for coming back late from my errands three times in a row!"

"Yeah, but…" Kipper answered, only to bite back his words as he looked up and saw a tall figure striding toward them.

"Hi, Vincent," he called out, hoping the older man hadn't heard much of his exchange with Samantha. Kipper had a tremendous amount of respect and affection for the man who had been his teacher, role model, and friend his whole life long, and he knew he would be devastated should Vincent think less of him as a result of his behaviour.

Vincent had heard enough to let him know that the two older children had been arguing again, but he wisely decided to ignore the matter, knowing that much of their antagonism stemmed from the emotional upheavals typical of their age. He felt a smile lighten his expression and immediately realised its origin. He had escorted Catherine Above only an hour earlier, and was still willingly wrapped in the very pleasant memories of an emotional upheaval of his own.

"Samantha, Kipper," he greeted them warmly. "What are the two of you up to this afternoon?"

"We were supposed to be taking Ellen Bailey back to a tunnel entrance, but Pascal said he'd like to," Samantha told him. "So now we're on our way to let Father know - just so he won't worry."

"That's very thoughtful of you, Samantha," Vincent replied approvingly. "But why did Pascal take on this responsibility when it was yours?"

Shooting a brief but meaningful glare in the girl's direction, Kipper immediately answered. "I thought we should do what Father said, but Pascal really seemed to want to help out. And now that I think of it, Ellen agreed to the idea awful quickly."

Samantha rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "Boys can be so dense," she sighed.

"Oh, not you, of course, Vincent! But some boys can."

"Now, Samantha," Vincent began, trying not to laugh."

"It's true! Anyone could see that Ellen and Pascal wanted to be alone."

All feelings of amusement vanished as Vincent questioned the girl.

"What do you mean, Samantha? How do you know they wanted to be alone?''

She shrugged as a small frown creased her smooth forehead. "I'm not sure, really. I guess I could just tell from the way they talked to each other."

"Yeah," Kipper agreed. "Kind of nervous. Like they wanted to talk but didn't know what to talk about."

Samantha nodded. "That's right. But why are you worried, Vincent? Even though we don't know her all that well yet, Ellen seems very nice."

"I'm not really worried," he said. "It's just that whenever there's a newcomer Below, I have to be on my guard."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Samantha was immediately contrite and worried that she had hurt the feelings of the friend she adored. "I didn't think!"

"Please, Samantha, don't be upset on my account." His voice was warm as he reassured her. "You said nothing wrong. It is nice for me to know that my differences are not important to my family."

The girl's sparkling smile nearly outshone the golden glow of the torch-lit tunnel.

"We'd better go see Father now," she said. "See you later, Vincent!"

"Yeah, see you later," Kipper echoed as they turned and ran off again in that direction.

Vincent watched them leave and then strode down an adjacent passageway leading to his own chambers. As he walked he recalled the conversation he'd had with Catherine, and wondered if Pascal had also begun to wish for the happiness they had spoken of for him. Although he hoped for the best, Vincent could not help feeling apprehensive about the effect the stranger might have on his friend's gentle, trusting nature. Pushing aside an uncomfortable twinge of guilt at what might be considered interference in someone else's personal matters, Vincent promised himself he would speak of the situation with Father as soon as possible, and it was with relief that he remembered Catherine's plans to try and meet with Ellen Above.

***

The hour they had spent together seemed to have flown by in an instant. Immersed in conversation, Pascal and Ellen had slowly strolled through the tunnels, on their way to the shop's basement entrance, both amazed at the ease they felt with one another. All too soon, they reached their destination, and yet Ellen hesitated.

"Pascal, I really appreciate your taking the time to show me the Pipe Chamber and tell me more about your community. I enjoyed it very much."

"I enjoyed it too, Ellen," he answered, and then to his own great surprise, he heard himself continue. "I'd be glad to show you some of the other places Below on your next visit."

Her immediate smile melted any fears he might have had at what he felt was his display of boldness.

"I'd love that. I only wish I didn't have to leave now." She glanced at her watch and gasped in alarm. "Oh, no! I didn't realize it was so late! I have to get back home right away!"

Pascal felt his heart constrict in concern. "Is anything wrong, Ellen? Can I help?"

Taking a deep breath to help calm her fear, she tried to keep her voice as even as possible. "No, nothing wrong." Her tight smile belied her words as she continued. "I'm just a little worried about Dad. He hasn't been feeling well."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he answered, feeling somewhat ashamed of his relief that he was not the cause for her flight. "Please let us know if there's anything we can do."

"I will," she promised hurriedly as she began to ascend the small wooden staircase that would bring her into the sub-basement of the hardware store. Reaching into her pocket for the key her father had left with her, she turned slightly to look back at Pascal who still stood in the entryway below her. "And I hope I'll see you again soon," she called softly before pushing open the door and vanishing from his sight.

"I hope so, too," he murmured. "I hope so, too."

Although the worlds Above and Below shared the same span of night-time hours, the occurrences within them were as different as the glare of neon was from the glow of candlelight. And by the evening's end, Ellen had no doubts at all as to which she preferred.

Exhausted from fending off Nick's demands and questions about her whereabouts, when once again she was a few minutes late for their date, Ellen feigned a headache and somehow managed to come home early. Once alone in her room, she gave in to the tears that had threatened all evening, having built up over several days spent coping with Nick's increasingly possessive behaviour. Ever since she had accepted his proposal of marriage, she had known in her heart that she had made the biggest mistake of her life. And she knew as well that it would take a miracle to change things now. Nick was not a man who would ever admit to defeat, nor would he willingly give up something or someone he regarded as his.

As her tears finally ebbed, she undressed and settled into bed, but sleep eluded her. Over and over again, she found herself comparing Nick's abrasive, selfish nature with Pascal's gentle, considerable ways. Her heart filled with warmth, as she recalled the time spent on her first visit Below, and she vowed to herself that she would return there as soon as she could. She would become better acquainted with Pascal, find out more about him and his incredible world. Maybe...

Without warning her hopeful dreams were brought to a halt by the stirring of her conscience. She remembered how Pascal had looked at her when they said goodbye at the tunnel entrance, and she knew that he shared her tentative hopes. Sighing deeply, she forced herself to face the reality that a man such as he would not consider entering into anything more than a casual friendship with a woman who was engaged to another. It was not his way.

Feeling tears begin to well again in her eyes, she turned her face into the pillow, trying to shut out the hopes and dreams that had already taken root in her heart.

While Ellen faced a dark and hopeless night Above, Pascal knew only light and faith Below. Alone in the relative quiet of the Pipe Chamber, he reflected on the changes that had begun to take place in his life and wondered if it were not too late for him to learn to dream again.

***

The demands of her job often kept Catherine busy from early morning to the late hours of the night, and it was not until two days after making her promise to Vincent that she was able to fulfill it. Grateful for the rare luxury of a half day off, she quickly finished her housekeeping chores and then hurried off to try and find answers to the questions she and Vincent shared about their dear friend's well-being.

As she stepped from a cab in front of Bailey's Hardware, Catherine felt a slight twinge of guilt. Being something of a private person herself, she shared Vincent's misgivings about prying into the personal affairs of others. However, she knew that in this situation, the potential safety of the tunnel community must take priority over any other considerations.

Entering the shop, she quickly spotted Ellen assisting a customer in choosing cans of paint. On the pretext of browsing, Catherine moved closer to the other woman and opened a sample book of wallpaper designs. Moments later, Ellen noticed her and called out that she would be with her in just a few minutes.

"Thanks," Catherine replied. "Please take your time. I'm not in any hurry."

As she waited, Catherine carefully glanced around the shop, and breathed a small sigh of relief when the only other people she saw were customers and another sales clerk. She had worried that Gerald would inevitably recognize her from Winterfest, instantly identifying her as the woman from Above who had never left Vincent's side the entire evening. If she were to obtain an honest, realistic picture of Ellen, it was essential that she talk with her, before revealing her identity and her relationship with the world Below.

"Thanks for waiting. Is there something I can help you with?" The cordial voice broke into Catherine's reverie, and once again trying to ignore her guilty feelings, she turned toward Ellen.

"I'm thinking about doing some redecorating," Catherine began. "But at the moment, it's all in the preliminary stages. I just thought I'd look at some of the paper and paint samples and see if I can get any ideas."

Ellen smiled brightly. "Well, I'm free for now and I'd be glad to go over the samples with you and answer any questions you might have."

"That's very kind of you," Catherine answered. "But I don't want to take up too much of your time."

"Oh, please don't worry about that," Ellen said. "And to be perfectly honest, I'm glad to have something to discuss with a customer other than rust removers and drill bits!"

Catherine laughed softly, as she carefully observed Ellen's facial expression and listened to the tone of her voice. Something about the woman told Catherine that the warmth and graciousness were not part of a well-practiced sales technique, but rather came from within the person herself. Immediately deciding to trust her instincts, Catherine decided to call a halt to her pretense.

"Actually," she began. "I'm not…"

Her words were cut short by those of an elderly man who had approached her from behind and had caught her completely unaware. "Catherine? Catherine Chandler? Is that you?"

Feeling her heart sink, Catherine whirled around and faced Gerald Bailey. "Good morning," she said, mustering a smile. "It's nice to see you again."

"And it's good to see you again, too! Although I almost didn't recognize you at first. What brings you to our shop? Is there something we can help you with?"

"You two know each other?"

Gerald chuckled as both he and Catherine took in Ellen's puzzled expression. "Sure, Honey. Catherine and I met Below at Winterfest last year."

Ellen's dark eyes widened in surprise. "You know about Below, too?"

"Yes, and it would be very easy if I just pretended my visit here was a coincidence, Ellen," Catherine admitted. "But I can't do that. I know who you are and I came here in order to meet you."

"But why didn't you just tell me so in the first place?"

"I'm sorry for deceiving you, but I needed to find out what you were like before you knew of my connection to the world Below. I hope you're not angry, but I really didn't have a choice."

Ellen hesitated only for a moment. "No, I'm not angry. This whole thing is so new to me, but I do understand the need for security. If you're connected to their world, then you're only doing what you have to do to help keep it safe."

Catherine's smile grew and she felt her heart lift as the woman's words further convinced her that her initial impression was a valid one.

"Why don't the two of you get acquainted?" Gerald suggested. "It's almost lunch time, and Tom and I can handle the customers."

"I'd like that," Catherine answered.

"Me, too," Ellen agreed. "There's a coffee shop at the end of the block. We can go there and talk over lunch if you'd like."

Minutes later the two women were seated in a quiet booth at the back of the small restaurant. As Ellen told Catherine about her visit Below and asked many questions, several managing to involve Pascal, she revealed much more of herself than she realised, and in the process proved that she could indeed be the person Vincent and Catherine hoped she would be.

As they walked back to the hardware shop an hour later, Ellen spoke of her wish to return Below for another visit as soon as possible.

"I'm sure you'll be welcome there," Catherine told her. "I try to go Below as often as I can, but with my work schedule, it's often impossible."

"Do you mind if I ask how you came to be a part of the community?" Ellen asked. "I was so busy talking about my visit that I never even asked you about yourself... I'm sorry."

Catherine smiled reassuringly. "That's perfectly all right. I'd be glad to tell you sometime, although I'm sure you'll hear the story long before, whether you want to or not!"

"Now, I'm really intrigued," Ellen answered. "Do you think we could get together again for lunch the day after tomorrow?"

"Let's see," Catherine pulled her appointment book from her shoulder bag. "Thursday. Yes, I'm free then. Why don't I meet you back here at the store at about 12:30?"

"That's be perfect," Ellen answered as she pushed open the door to the shop. "I'll look forward to it."

Anything further either woman might have said was forgotten when their attention was captured by loud angry voices coming from within the shop.

"Look, old man, I don't want any more of your excuses! You tell Ellen that she better be here when I tell her to!"

"My daughter doesn't have to answer to you," Gerald retorted. "And don't use that tone of voice with me either or I might lose my temper."

"Oh yeah?" Nick sneered, suddenly taking a step closer to the old man. "You threatening me... That's a laugh!"

With only a fleeting glance at Catherine's shocked face, Ellen ran toward her father. "Nick! Leave him alone!"

The two men turned toward them, the face of one full of fear and concern, the other a contorted mask of pure anger. Catherine's mind raced, immediately and instinctively drawing upon the training Isaac had provided her for coping with situations such as this one appeared to be. But as she started forward, Ellen whirled back in her direction.

"It's okay, Catherine," she said quickly. "I can handle this."

Catherine paused, not at all convinced of her friends' safety. The younger man's demeanour was all too familiar to her from her years of street investigations, the dangerous and risk-filled part of her job that had recently been eliminated at her insistence.

"Are you sure, Ellen?" she asked evenly.

"You heard the lady," Nick growled. "This is private."

"Yes, I'm sure," Ellen replied, calling on her inner strength to bring an evenness to her voice. "I'll see you Thursday."

Hesitating a few moments longer, Catherine looked from one face to another and then honoured Ellen's request.

"All right, but call me if you need me, okay?"

Wishing she could go Below immediately to speak with Vincent and filled with concern for the Baileys, Catherine forced herself to return to her responsibilities at the DA's office. With the research she needed to do for the next day's interviewing of witnesses, and Vincent's current work assignment that had taken him to outlying areas of the tunnels, she knew it would not be until the following night that they could see each other. Within her heart, she felt an oddly insistent sensation that the scene she had just witnessed would cause turmoil that would encompass all of them.

***

At last Catherine was able to make her way Below. She knew without a doubt that Vincent had sensed the turbulence within her, since she had left Ellen Bailey the previous afternoon. Its strength had mounted as her imagination had taken worried flight, presenting her with images of the danger the man Nick could bring to the tunnel community.

"Catherine."

Almost before her feet touched the tunnel floor, she heard his beloved voice and felt his arms encircle her, instantly bringing to both of them a sense of completeness and a moment of peace. Their breath mingling in heartfelt sighs, they separated enough to look into each other's eyes.

"I've felt the distress within you, Catherine, and I'm sorry I could not come to you." His deep voice conveyed the depth of his emotion. "Will you tell me?"

Catherine breathed another shuddering sigh, and, moving from his embrace, she took his hand as they began to walk toward the home chambers.

"It seems that once again forces in my world have become a threat to us."

"This is your world now, Catherine." The conviction in his voice brought tears to her eyes and she quickly blinked them away, squeezing his hand tightly in response. She knew he would sense the joy in her heart through their bond.

"Yes, it is," she said. "And I will do all that I can to make sure nothing from Above will ever harm it. But I'm afraid, Vincent, afraid that there is a new risk to our peace and security here."

"Does it involve Ellen Bailey?" he questioned.

"Yes. I've discovered something that worries me, and you and Father should know about it."

"Then let us go and tell him, Catherine. Together, I'm sure we shall be able to find a solution to this problem."

As they hurried through the rocky corridors, she glanced up at him, drawing reassurance from the sight of him at her side. Moments later they entered Father's chambers and soon were seated close to the tunnel patriarch. Both men listened intently as Catherine related the story of her encounter with Ellen Bailey and its disturbing conclusion.

"So, you truly feel this man, Nick, could become a threat to our community, Catherine?" Father's fingers drummed nervously upon the carved wooden arms of his favourite chair as he awaited her response.

Grimacing slightly, Catherine shrugged before answering.

"That's just it, Father. I'm not sure. Right now, I'm going purely by the little I saw, so I can't be certain."

"But that in combination with what we see to be a growing friendship between Ellen and Pascal has been enough to cause you to be concerned," Vincent suggested. "You are a very perceptive person, Catherine. We cannot ignore your feelings, no matter if the physical evidence is inconsequential."

"Yes," Father agreed immediately. "And for how much longer will that evidence remain inconsequential, as you put it? Gerald Bailey has been a trusted Helper and a good friend, and his daughter seems to be a fine person. But if they are intimately involved with people who might become a danger to us, then we cannot risk a further association with them."

"Father, don't you think that's somewhat premature? I'm not ignoring the need for caution, but we should not jump to conclusions before we fully understand the situation."

"What's to understand, Vincent? Shall we wait until Ellen invites her unsavory friend to accompany her on a visit Below? Wait until a stranger, an intruder from Above has the chance to harm all of us? No! We must act immediately!"

The older man seemed about to leap from his chair when he felt a small hand press against his arm.

"Father," Catherine began carefully. "I understand your concern, but I think Vincent is right." When he started to sputter in response, Catherine lightly tightened her grip on his arm, silently asking him for patience. "Please believe me - I'm not minimizing the potential for danger. I have a very bad feeling about this man, but we cannot allow our fears to cloud our judgement."

With effort, Father listened more calmly. "Go on, Catherine."

"As I told Vincent very recently, now that I truly am a member of this community, I'm developing a new perspective on the influence the world Above can hold in both good and bad ways. And I think I understand much more fully the fears you initially had about me, because now I feel those same fears when someone or something from Above has the potential to cause us harm Below."

When she paused, Father reached out to gently cover her trembling hand with his own. "Thank you, my dear, for telling me," he said quietly. "I know it could not have been easy for you."

She smiled at him. "Actually, now that I have faith in your acceptance of me, it wasn't as difficult as it would have been a while ago."

As Vincent watched the interplay between the two people he loved most in the world, he felt his heart swell with love and gratitude. It was at times such as this that he felt his life was blessed and complete.

"But," Catherine continued. "We do have to make a decision as to what to do next."

"I think our best course of action would be to talk with Pascal," Vincent said. "We do not know the extent of his friendship with Ellen. Many of our Helpers surely have people in their lives who could pose a potential threat to us, but we cannot spend our time needlessly worrying about disasters that will probably never happen."

"I suppose you're right," Father agreed reluctantly. "Perhaps this is just a casual association and Ellen has no intentions of becoming involved with our world. Will you speak with him, Vincent?"

"Yes, of course. But I must do this carefully. I will not interfere in his personal concerns, Father. Unless they truly do come to endanger us, we do not have the right to force our wishes upon him."

Catherine watched as Father nodded decisively. "I don't like this any more than either of you do, but it seems right for now. I promised Ellen I'd have lunch with her again tomorrow, and I'll ask her about Nick."

"Good. Then that's decided," Father declared. "Now, why don't I make us some tea and we can talk about the arrangements for Eric's birthday celebration. It's to take place on Saturday, you know, and I think Mary has everything in hand, but we must go over the plans just to make sure."

Vincent and Catherine surreptitiously exchanged a knowing smile. As much as Father loved and trusted the members of his family, he found it nearly impossible to entirely relinquish control of most concerns and events in the community.

"Let me go and get the tea, Father," Vincent suggested, rising from his chair and heading for the chamber entrance. "You visit with Catherine, and I'll see if I can find Mary on the way back."

"That sounds fine, my boy," Father answered with a smile as the tension in his face slowly relaxed. "Now, Catherine, tell me. Did your friend Jenny ever find that edition of Marlowe she was looking for?"

Vincent smiled as he momentarily left the two to their conversation, never guessing that the easy camaraderie they all enjoyed would have been shaken, had they known that Catherine was not the only visitor from Above who had entered their world that evening.

Not long after Catherine had descended the sub-basement ladder to be swept into Vincent's welcoming arms, Ellen Bailey had arrived at the threshold beneath her father's shop. Armed with the written directions Pascal had given her days earlier in the Pipe Chamber, she painstakingly tapped out her message. Moments later she heard a slow, steady tapping in return and as she found a place to sit while she waited, she hoped that the reassuring sound meant that Pascal had heard her message and was on his way to meet her.

Fifteen minutes later, Ellen found her hopes were answered as a slight, breathless figure bounded toward her from the dimly lit reaches of the passageway that opened before her.

"Pascal! I'm so glad you're here! I was pretty sure I sent the message just the way you showed me, but then I couldn't understand the answer. I didn't know if it said that you were on your way here or that I should go back home or what!" She knew she was nearly babbling, but the look on the man's face told her it didn't matter at all.

"You did a great job sending the message, Ellen," he told her, his shy smile warming her heart even more than she would have guessed. "Maybe we should practice your translating simple messages next."

Beneath his words was the assurance that he fully accepted her into his special world, and the awareness of it leapt easily from heart to heart.

"I'm glad you could come for a visit tonight," he continued. "Would you like to go for a walk? I thought you might like to visit the Whispering Gallery. It's one of the more unique places we have Below."

He awaited her response, hoping that her interest in their world would continue to flourish from the promising beginnings of only days earlier.

"Okay," she readily agreed as they began to walk deeper into the tunnels. "I'll trust you to decide on the spots we visit. Maybe some day I'll have seen nearly everything and then we can pick out our favourites and start all over again."

When at first he didn't answer, Ellen felt a surge of fear that she had been too forward and had wrongly assumed that the undercurrents which seemed to swirl around them had arisen from a mutual attraction. Quickly she tried to explain, but the words were silenced forever by his quietly spoken response.

"I'd like that too," he told her. "Very much."

The shy smiles they exchanged said everything. As they journeyed toward the Whispering Gallery, enjoying both the easy flow of their conversation and the simple pleasure of spending time together, they knew that the small, delicate wisps of hope that had quivered in their hearts since their first meeting, could easily grow into something real and substantial, taking them far beyond barely acknowledged dreams.

Soon they reached the Whispering Gallery and paused at the rim of the great, gaping ravine that seemed to stretch downward forever into nothingness. Ellen started at the rope bridge that spanned the gorge, seeing it as insubstantial as a spider's web strung between two redwoods, and gasped as Pascal took her hand to lead her onto it.

"Are you sure it's safe?" she asked, pulling back slightly on his hand when her feet refused to budge.

"Oh, yes, it's perfectly safe. We use it all the time," he replied hastily. "But if you'd rather not go out on it, it's all right. We can stay right here on the edge or even go somewhere else if you'd like

In a heartbeat, Ellen remembered her words to him earlier that evening. "No, it's okay. I trust you."

Taking a deep breath and fighting the urge to close her eyes, she followed him, taking small tentative steps out onto the bridge, grateful that he matched his stride to hers, allowing her the needed time to adjust to the slightly swaying surface. Finally they reached the centre of the span and stopped.

"Are you all right, Ellen?" His concern for her was clearly evident in his voice and served to immediately calm her lingering fears.

"Yes. At least I think so," she answered finally daring to take a closer look at their surroundings. "This is amazing!"

The cool winds swirled around them, lightly ruffling her hair as it flickered past them, rising from mysterious places above and below.

"Where does the wind come from?" she asked wonderingly.

"No one's sure, except that some of it comes from Above."

"How can you tell?"

"Listen," he whispered. "The winds from Above are the ones that bring the voices."

With difficulty, she stifled the urge to ask more questions. Each wondrous discovery Below only prompted a desire in her to see and know more, but she had promised to follow his wishes and for now reined in her curiosity, suddenly feeling very sure that they would share many other opportunities to talk and explore together. Distracted by her pleasant thoughts, she was startled back to awareness by the unexpected sound of other voices carried to them on the ghostly breezes.

In amazement, she turned to look at Pascal, unconsciously tightening her grip on his hand.

"What is it?" she whispered. "Where do they come from?"

For several seconds he hesitated, lost in the feeling of her hand clasped tight in his and the warmth of her slight body only a hair's breadth away. Struggling to find his voice, he whispered back.

"They come from all over the city. You never know what you might hear. Sometimes there's nothing at all, and sometimes there are so many that it is impossible to hear anything clearly. But most of the time, it's like this… little bits and pieces of people talking, people who we'll never know, but for a moment they become part of our world."

She nodded in understanding. "Just for a moment, and then they're gone. How sad for them that they'll never know that their lives brushed through such a wonderful place."

With the sound of heartfelt words vibrating through him, Pascal grew silent. For the moment, he was content to know that like the enchanted voices floating down into his world, something wonderful had come to him from the world Above.

All too soon their brief hours together had come to an end and they found themselves nearing the sub-basement of the shop.

"I had a wonderful time tonight, Pascal," she told him. "There's so much to learn about your world. Do you think I'll ever get to know all of it?"

"Yes, I do." The conviction in his voice surprised him only in that he had been able to convey it from the secret place in his heart. "If you feel that's what you want."

"Yes." Her voice was almost a whisper. "I think it is."

Pascal could feel his heart hammering in his chest but with effort he was able to speak calmly. "There will be a birthday party for Eric on Saturday night. It'll just be a simple celebration, and it'll begin early so that all the children can participate. Would you like to join us?" He tried not to appear worried as he waited for her response. "I know it would really make the occasion special for Eric."

Not just for Eric, I hope, she told herself silently as her mouth curved into a smile. "I'd love to come to the party. Thank you for asking me! Is there something I can bring?"

Relief flooding his voice, Pascal answered happily. "William - he's our chief cook - will be handling all the arrangements for food, so we're all set there. Most people will give Eric small gifts, something simple that they've made, or a promise of some sort, such as taking his next turn at dishwashing, or one of his other chores."

"Would it be all right if I bought a gift for him, maybe a book or a special treat of some sort? I'm not really very skilled at making things."

"He'll appreciate whatever you give him, Ellen," Pascal reassured her. "Just making the effort to be there on his special day will mean a lot to him."

"It's no effort," she answered. "I'll be looking forward to it."

A comfortable silence fell around them as they lingered a moment longer. It seemed as if they'd known each other forever, yet somehow their hearts told them that even forever might not be long enough.

"I guess I'd better go now, Pascal," Ellen finally said, thinly veiled reluctance evident in her voice. "Thanks again for tonight."

"I enjoyed it too," he told her, the emotion in his voice a quiet echo of hers.

"And I'll look forward to seeing you on Saturday."

"Good night then."

With a last look back, she quickly ascended the stairs, as Pascal turned slowly and began to retrace the route that would take him back to the home chambers. He had only gone a few steps when he realised he hadn't told her what time the birthday party would begin. Wheeling around he hurried back to the bottom of the stairway.

The door above him was just inches from closing when he called out. "Ellen, wait!"

Immediately the space widened and Ellen's head and shoulders appeared. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"No, I just forgot to tell you what time Eric's party would start. We'll all have an early dinner together in the larger dining chamber at about 5:30. Should I come meet you here at about 5 o'clock? Would that be all right?"

"That would be great," she answered happily. "I'll be here."

"Well, then good night again," he called up to her. "See you on Saturday."

She nodded eagerly. "On Saturday."

Stepping backwards, she began to push the heavy wooden door shut once again, when the sound of a loud, furious voice from somewhere above smashed through the quiet night. Flinching with immediate recognition, her frightened eyes instinctively met Pascal's worried gaze.

"Ellen? Who is that? Do you know what's going on up there?" Before he knew what he was doing, Pascal had bounded halfway up the stairway toward her. "Do you need help?"

On the edge of panic, she swung her head from him to stare over her shoulder and then back toward him again.

"No! Stop!" She held out her hand, urging him to go no farther. "It's nothing. It'll be all right."

Pascal hesitated, gripping the banister tightly in his hand. "It doesn't sound like 'nothing,' Ellen. Won't you let me help you?"

In her heart, Ellen knew then that she wanted nothing more than to run through that doorway and into his arms, locking behind her forever the horrors that had stalked her from the moment she had allowed Nick Belmont into her life. But she knew, too, that running away would solve none of her problems and would surely plunge the new world she had found into terrible danger.

"You don't understand," she began, lowering her voice carefully. "It's not really a problem... ummmmm, it's just my Dad and a friend of his arguing over their card game. They play cards in the office up in the shop every so often and it always ends up like this." She paused, trying to determine if he was accepting her quickly composed falsehood. "I'll just go up and tell them to stop it. It's nothing to be concerned about."

The jarring sounds from the shop had quieted somewhat, and although he was not completely convinced, Pascal knew he had no choice but to accept her explanation.

"Well, if you're sure," he said reluctantly, the worried frown on his face revealing his lingering concern.

"I'm sure," she answered hastily, drawing away once again and pushing shut the door. "I'll see you on Saturday."

"See you on Saturday," he repeated softly, turning toward the tunnels with an insistent sense of fear chilling his heart.

Several minutes later Pascal approached a passageway leading to Father's chambers and decided to see if the older man was still awake, knowing he needed to tell him of the invitation he had issued to Ellen. Upon entering the book-filled room, he found Father in his usual place behind his massive desk, head and shoulders bent forward as he studied the contents of the ancient volume opened before him.

"Father? Could I speak with you for a minute?"

Quickly looking up at the sound of the gentle voice, Father closed the book and gestured Pascal into the room.

"Of course, Pascal, come in." Rising, he limped forward and settled himself once again on a more comfortable chair. "But I must say I'm surprised to see you here at this late hour. There's nothing wrong, is there? I didn't hear anything on the pipes."

Pascal seated himself opposite Father. "No, it's not that," he answered. "I just need to talk to you about Eric's birthday party."

The lines that creased the older man's forehead relaxed at once. "Oh, is that all? You had me worried for a moment." He leaned back in his chair. "It's a shame you weren't here only an hour ago. You just missed Vincent and Catherine. We were going over the birthday plans ourselves. I'm sure it's to be a fine celebration for our young Eric."

"That's great, Father." Pascal hesitated only for a moment. "I want to let you know that I've asked someone - a friend - to join us for the party. I know I should have checked with you first, but I didn't, and I apologize for that. And I, well, I just hope it'll be all right."

A hint of a frown darkened Father's expression but his voice remained calm. "That all depends upon one factor. Just who is it that you have invited to the party?"

"Ellen Bailey."

The frown deepened and Father took a deep breath before responding to the quietly spoken name.

"Ellen Bailey, yes, I suppose I should have surmised as much. I know she has become acquainted with our world recently. I spent some time talking with her myself and she seems like a lovely person. But, Pascal, she is still very much a newcomer here and although her father has been a Helper to us for many years, we know little of his daughter." He paused a moment, remembering Vincent and Catherine's earlier words of caution, and chose his words very carefully before continuing. "I do not mean to pry, but you know that I must ask. Just what is your relationship with Ellen Bailey?"

"I understand, Father. I know you wouldn't ask unless you felt it was important enough. Ellen is a friend. We only met a few days ago when Eric had his accident, and we've seen each other twice since then. She's just a friend."

Father's shrewd eyes missed none of the emotions that played across the younger man's face, telling him in an instant that the simple words were entirely inadequate to describe the importance this woman had already assumed in Pascal's life. 'But perhaps', he mused, Pascal himself is not completely aware of his own feelings... I must find a way to urge him to exercise caution, but I cannot interfere, Vincent was right about that. And yet, what of this man, Nick, that Catherine told us of? But no, it is not my place to speak of him. Not yet...

Steeling himself, Father drew up the inner strength that had always been a deep and abiding part of him.

“Well, then, we shall welcome your friend to Eric's birthday celebration, Pascal. This will give all of us an opportunity to become better acquainted with her. And who can say, perhaps someday Ellen will decide to become a Helper like her father."

Unaware that he exhaled a sigh of relief, Pascal's face brightened in a smile. "Thank you, Father," he said simply. "And now I'd better get back to the Pipe Chamber. I want to be sure everything's secure for the night."

"Certainly," Father agreed. "I'll see you in the morning then." As Pascal hurried toward the chamber entrance, Father found he could not ignore the need to offer a final word of advice. "Pascal?"

"Yes, Father?" The younger man paused just inside the entryway.

"About Ellen," he began. "As I said, she seems like a fine, trustworthy woman, who may well prove to be a friend to our community. But, Pascal, you will be careful, won't you? You are not accustomed to the ways of topsiders, you know, and I suppose I can't help worrying about you a bit."

Pascal had lived his entire life in the tunnel community, and had never questioned the need for the rules and regulations by which he and his companions lived. Never until now. Immediately ashamed of the rebellious instincts that flickered through him, he rushed to reassure the man who had been like a father to him for so many years.

"I'll be careful," he replied with a quiet smile. "Like I said, Ellen's just a friend. Good night now."

As he made his way back to his beloved Pipe Chamber, Pascal realised with a feeling close to horror that he had lied to Jacob Wells for the first time in his life. And in the space of a heartbeat he realised, too, that he could not lie to himself. Even as a youth, Pascal had been quiet and introspective, a follower rather than a leader, yet possessing an inner strength and self-sufficiency. There had been a time when he had thought that love would come to be a part of his existence, and when that expectation had turned to ashes, he had accepted it with steadfast honesty and had gone on.

His whole adult life had been one of contentment and enterprise, leaving little room or need for entertaining hopes and dreams of something more. But now, without warning, Ellen Bailey had entered his world and he knew that nothing would ever be the same. In the brief hours they'd spent together, he had lost his heart to the stranger from Above, despite Father's cautious words, or his own lingering uncertainties, he knew nothing could change what had come to pass. He was falling in love, truly in love, for the first time in his life.

***

Catherine glanced at her watch as she and Ellen seated themselves in the corner booth of the coffee shop just down the block from the hardware shop. With a wry smile, she noted that it was just 12:30, precisely the time they had agreed to meet for lunch. Catching Ellen's eye, her smile widened and she offered an explanation.

"Don't tell anyone that I actually arrived on time for our lunch date," she cautioned. "It would ruin my reputation - and no one would believe it anyway!"

Ellen laughed appreciatively. "I have the same problem myself from time to time. But it only seems to happen on certain occasions or with certain people."

In her mind's eye Nick's glaring expression surfaced and she shook her head slightly, determined not to let thoughts of him spoil her visit with Catherine.

"Well, you're a step ahead of me," Catherine laughed. "I'm just the opposite. There are only certain occasions when I am on time. Actually, in all honesty, I can only think of one."

"Let me guess," Ellen suggested almost shyly. "Is it when you're on your way to meet someone very special?"

Nodding, Catherine confirmed her friend's guess. "Yes. That's one time I'm almost never late. In fact, It's often all I can do to keep from running down there hours earlier than I'm expected!"

At the quizzical expression on Ellen's face, Catherine suddenly realised that her words conveyed more to her than they would have to a more casual listener.

"Yes, when I said ‘down there,’ I did mean exactly what you're thinking."

"You're involved with someone who lives Below?" Ellen's voice was a near whisper, and Catherine noted with satisfaction the woman's grasp of the need for caution when speaking openly of the tunnel community.

"Yes, I am." Catherine did nothing to conceal the glow in her eyes that arose with every thought of Vincent, knowing it was senseless to attempt such an impossible feat. "And that's one of the things I wanted to talk to you about today. I understand that you'll be attending Eric's birthday party on Saturday?"

At Ellen's confirming nod, Catherine continued.

"Then you will meet him, the man that I love. His name is Vincent. Has Pascal mentioned him to you at all?"

"No, I can't remember Pascal saying anything at all about him. I've met Father and some of the children - Eric, of course, and Kipper and Samantha. Cullen was there the night of the accident, and Pascal has referred to William, their cook, but no one else."

Catherine smiled slightly as she noted that Ellen seemed to remember with ease everything Pascal had ever said to her.

"Then before you meet Vincent, there are some things I must tell you. But first of all, Ellen, and please believe me, I do not mean this as a threat, or even a warning, but you must understand that I will never let anyone or anything hurt Vincent, no matter how innocent or unintentional the circumstances might be." She paused, giving the other woman time to consider her words. "There is no one else like Vincent. He is an extraordinary man... and he is my life."

As Catherine told her story, Ellen listened in rapt fascination not only to the words themselves but to the message that came from her heart. She heard the passion that Catherine made no attempt to disguise, and Ellen found her eyes filling with misty tears, in recognition of a devotion and love that nearly defied description.

"... and so you see, Ellen," Catherine concluded. "There is an even greater need than you realised to use caution and secrecy involving all your interactions with the tunnel world. It is the only home that is possible for Vincent, and should the security there be threatened, it could mean more than the loss of that world, it could mean the loss of Vincent's life."

Ellen rushed to reassure her new friend. "Catherine, I swear to you that I'll never do anything to endanger Vincent or anyone Below, I swear it!"

"Thank you, Ellen. I know you mean what you say and I trust you. We all do."

Catherine reached across the table to pat her on the arm, seeking to soften the impact but not the importance of her next words.

"And I don't mean to pry into things that are none of my business, but you must understand why I need to ask you this. What about the man – Nick - who was arguing with your father the last time I was in the store? I heard enough to be pretty sure that you're involved with him, and in all honesty, he doesn't seem like someone who can be trusted. Ellen, will you tell me about your relationship with this man? I'm sorry, but I need to know."

To Catherine's horror, Ellen burst into tears. Fumbling in her bag, she pulled out a handful of tissues and wiped her eyes, struggling to regain her self-control.

"I'm so sorry," Catherine said anxiously. "I didn't mean to upset you like that, Ellen."

"It's all right," Ellen managed to murmur. "It's not your fault." Sighing deeply, she continued, her voice growing stronger as she spoke. "This is something that has been preying on my mind for a long time, but I've managed to ignore it as much as I can. Now, with all that has happened over the past several days, well, it's become impossible to ignore any longer."

"Will you tell me?" Catherine asked quietly. "It might help."

"Yes, I think I'd like that," Ellen answered, blinking away a final lingering tear. "It all involves Nick Belmont, the man you saw with my father in the shop. And, yes, you're right about my being involved with him. He's my fiancé."

"Your fiancé!" Catherine could not hide the shock in her voice.

"Yes. We met two and a half years ago. Nick's father had worked with my Dad on the same construction crew for many years. Nick started out with them himself and now he's their foreman. Anyway, there was a Christmas party and Dad was invited. I went with him, and that's how I met Nick." She paused for a moment, thinking back over the past several months and feeling bewildered, as she realised how quickly everything had changed.

"At first I guess I was just dazzled by Nick. I'd never met anyone like him. He seemed so powerful, so full of life, someone who knew what he wanted and wasn't afraid to go out and get it. I had been drifting for a long time, not knowing what I wanted, or where I was going. When Nick seemed interested in me, it was really easy to just let him take charge of everything for me."

Ellen looked up at Catherine and saw the understanding expression in her eyes. "I know how that can be, Ellen," she said quietly.

Ellen sighed again. “For a long time, Nick was wonderful - charming and entertaining and exciting. He took me places, and showed me things, and bought me extravagant gifts. I was totally caught up in a lifestyle I'd never known, and it was fun, Catherine. I was having fun for the first time in years."

"And that made it easy to ignore all the danger signals," Catherine suggested gently.

"Yes. And pretty soon Nick felt he owned me. All the gifts and exciting plans had big price tags, you know, and they were just another way to bind me to him. All along I'd be flattered when he called me several times a day or insisted on seeing me four or five nights a week, or asked lots of questions about what I did and who I saw when we were apart. I thought it just meant he loved me so much that he wanted us to be as close as possible. After a while, I had to admit to myself that it wasn't interest or love that made him behave that way, it was his need to control me... Nick doesn't want a woman to love, he wants a puppet to control."

"Ellen, now that you realize all this, what are you going to do about it? Surely you don't want to continue your relationship with a man like this?"

Ellen shook her head vehemently. "No, I don't. But that's the problem. I don't know how to end it. Nick isn't the type of man to take no for an answer... and he has a violent temper. I've seen him lose control more than once... and it's not something I want to see again."

She shuddered in spite of herself. "Nick knows that I'll try to stand up to him - I've done it before - but he also knows that he can get to me by threatening Dad... Oh, Catherine, I just don't know what to do next."

Catherine reached out to grasp her friend's hand. "I'll help you, Ellen. I'll do whatever I can. You really don't think talking with Nick will help at all? Is he that unreasonable?"

"He's more than unreasonable. He's cruel and destructive. I blame myself for not seeing it long before this... and now there's more than just my Dad and me - there's the tunnel community. If Nick were ever to learn of our involvement there, he'd have everything he needs to keep me in my place for the rest of my life."

"We can't let that happen! No matter what, Ellen, Nick must never find out about the world Below!"

"I know... I've been thinking about that a lot. I know at least for a while longer I can just continue to be very careful, but, knowing Nick, it's probably just a matter of time..."

Catherine took a deep breath. She had no desire to inflict additional pain on her friend, but there were greater things at stake.

"Then, Ellen," she said quietly but firmly. "Perhaps it is best that you stay away from the tunnels, at least until you find a way to resolve this situation with Nick."

Ellen's voice was shaky with barely controlled emotion. "I know you're right, Catherine. But can't I wait until after the birthday party? What I've learned of the tunnel world has been so wonderful - I love being there, I love everything about it. If I have to give it up to keep it safe, then I will, but I need to go back one last time. I need to talk…"

"To Pascal?" Catherine finished for her, and watched as Ellen nodded in affirmation. "He's been a good friend, Ellen, to all of us. May I ask how you feel about him?"

Ellen's eyes filled with tears again, but her lips curved in a tremulous smile. "I'm falling in love with him. I know we don't know each other very well yet, but it's true. Just the few hours we've had together have been enough for me to realize that Pascal is the man I've always hoped to find. What I had with Nick seemed to be a dream, a dream that turned into a nightmare. With Pascal, I know there could be so much more."

"And does he feel the same way?"

"Yes, I think he does," Ellen answered. "And I can't just disappear without talking with him first. I'll have to try and explain, and I pray he'll understand… I will find a way to break things off with Nick - I have to! And then maybe there will be a chance for Pascal and me..."

"And if you find there isn't." Catherine prompted. "What then?"

"Then life will go on." Ellen's voice was heavy but resolute. "I promise you that I will never hurt Pascal and his family, his world. No matter what, that will never happen."

"I believe you," Catherine told her. "But sometimes promises are impossible to keep... Still, I will help you in any way that I can. Now let's make some plans, okay? Do you think you can try talking things out with Nick, maybe in some public place where he won't risk losing his temper?"

"I can certainly try. We often meet for dinner at one of the neighborhood restaurants. In fact, we have a date for Sunday night. I'll do it then."

"Good! At least it's a beginning, and then we'll have an idea of what to do next."

Ellen's smile seemed brighter than before. "Thank you, Catherine. It means a lot to me to know I'm not alone in this."

Catherine returned her friend's smile, trying hard not to reveal all the fearful misgivings she felt in her heart.

***

"Wow! This is neat, Kipper! Thanks a lot!" Eric's eyes grew huge as he inspected the leather pouch full of marbles. "But these are some of your best ones. You really mean I can have them?"

"Sure," the older boy told him. "It's your birthday, after all."

"Gee, thanks a lot," Eric repeated.

"Eric, open mine next!" Geoffrey thrust a clumsily wrapped parcel into the other boy's arms. "I bet you'll like it!"

As Eric enthusiastically but carefully unwrapped his remaining gifts, the adults crowded into Father's study looked on indulgently, enjoying the child's pleasure in the simple but heartfelt offerings.

Ellen looked at Pascal who stood at her side. "It's so nice to see children who are so polite and thoughtful," she told him quietly. "That kind of attitude certainly says a lot for the way they've been brought up in your world."

Smiling, Pascal nodded his agreement. "Thank you," he said simply, but within he felt a sense of happiness that Ellen so often noticed and appreciated many of the best aspects of his world.

"Do you think my gift was all right?" she asked a bit anxiously. "I really wasn't sure what to get for him."

"It was a good choice, Ellen," he assured her. "The children love puzzles, and Eric is sure to share it with them. A thousand pieces should keep even Kipper out of trouble for a while."

Heads together, they laughed quietly, and the sound attracted the attention of the couple who stood opposite them in the circle of friends.

"It looks as if our hopes for Pascal are being fulfilled, Catherine," Vincent murmured, gently squeezing her hand.

"Yes," Catherine whispered back. "I only hope our fears aren't being fulfilled as well."

Their thoughts immediately shifted to the conversation they'd had with Father just before the party began. Although reluctant to reveal the things Ellen had told her in confidence, Catherine knew it was vitally important to share the information that could easily prove critical to the tunnel community. After much discussion, the three had decided to give Ellen an opportunity to speak with Pascal on her own, as she had requested, and that they would wait until that had occurred before taking any further action themselves.

"We shall have to wait and see," Vincent said quietly, echoing their shared thoughts. "And we must hope for the best."

Catherine grasped his hand tighter in response and tried as best she could to contain the fear that continued to grow in her heart. She had known men like Nick Belmont, and could entertain little hope that the dangers he presented would be lifted easily.

As one they turned their attention back to the festivities just in time to join the applause as Eric blew out all the candles on his cake with one mighty breath.

"Looks like you'll get your wish, Eric!" Cullen called out.

"And I bet I know what it is," Samantha giggled. "I bet Eric wished Kipper wouldn't win back all his marbles next time they play a game!"

"I wouldn't do that!" Kipper's voice was full of indignation at such an insult.

"Yes, you would!" Samantha shot back with an impudent grin. "I know you'd do it in a second!"

"I would not! And besides..."

"Why don't you two give it a rest and help me pass out the cake?" William's booming voice rose above the din. "Put some of that energy to good use for a change."

Samantha risked one last defiant gesture, by sticking out her tongue, once she was sure Kipper had turned his back toward her, and then the two busied themselves following William's timely suggestion.

Father shook his head warily at the little display. "I simply do not know what to do with those two. They're far worse than anyone I've dealt with since I can remember - and after you and Devin, I didn't think that was possible."

With one arm wrapped around Catherine's waist, Vincent shrug the other around his father's shoulders.

"Surely there's hope, Father," he suggested with a laugh. "In spite of all our disagreements, Devin and I always were the best of friends, and just look at how close we've become again as adults."

"Hmmmph," Father snorted. "Little consolation there, my boy! I don't think I have the patience to wait that long with these two."

Catherine's eyes glowed with humour. "Did either of you stop to think about one major difference in the two situations?"

She waited as they turned quizzical expressions in her direction. "Kipper and Samantha clearly are not two little boys squabbling over - well, whatever it is little boys squabble over. They're almost teenagers... doesn't that say something to either of you?"

"Oh dear God! You're not suggesting..."

"I certainly am," Catherine laughed. "Just think, perhaps in six or seven years..."

Immediately picking up on Catherine's train of thought, Vincent added, "She may be right, Father. And imagine it, you'll have years and years to help the two of them sort out their problems."

"Not another word! It's too horrible to even contemplate!" Father's laughter betrayed his words. "I'm going to find someone to talk with who's far more sensible than the two of you!"

Vincent and Catherine laughed softly, as Father hurried off to find Mary, and then they turned their attention back to the party, enjoying the refreshments prepared by William and his helpers and the pleasant companionship of good friends.

As the party drew to a close, Ellen made her way to Father's side. "Thank you for letting me come to the party, Father," she told him. "I really appreciate it."

"Not at all, my dear," he replied as reassuringly as he could manage. "We all enjoyed having you with us this evening. I'm sorry Gerald was unable to accompany you. Isn't his cold any better?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I've been trying to get him to see his doctor, and he finally made an appointment for Monday."

As Father and Ellen talked quietly, Pascal began helping William gather together the remnants of the cake, carefully cleaning up the crumbs that could attract mice and other pests. As he worked, he found he was unable to keep from frequently glancing in Ellen's direction, an action that did not go unnoticed by the burly cook.

"Say, Pascal," he began. "Ellen must be pretty special for you to say away from your pipes this long. But you better be careful. I think Father's trying to steal your girlfriend."

A blush immediately reddened Pascal's pale complexion, and the sight encouraged William's teasing nature.

"I mean it, buddy. I hear he was quite the ladies' man in his time. Maybe he's still got what it takes. You better get on over there before it's too late!"

Pascal smiled in spite of his embarrassment. "Maybe I should," he agreed. "Here!" He thrust a basket of dirty dishes into William's arms. "Thanks for the advice!"

William laughed appreciatively, and then grew more serious. "She's a nice girl, Pascal. I like her. And I hope things work out okay for you."

"Thanks, William. I hope so, too."

Seconds later Pascal reached Ellen's side and they were soon on their way back toward the tunnel entrance below the hardware shop. Alone in the passageways, their conversation flowed comfortably, and it seemed as natural as breathing for their hands to clasp together, swinging gently between them as they strolled along.

Everything seemed right with the world, and Ellen found it all too easy to ignore her fears, letting hope fill her heart, as she sensed that it filled Pascal's. 'I will find a way to make this work,' she vowed silently 'I will!'

Lost in her thoughts, she was surprised to find that they had reached the basement entrance. After telling him once again how much she enjoyed being with his family at the party, Ellen took a deep breath. With great effort, she forced herself to speak the words that she wished with all her heart were unnecessary.

"Pascal," she began. "I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to see you for a few days. You know that Dad's cold has been getting worse, and I'm afraid it'll turn into bronchitis. I'm going to have to look after the shop myself, so that he can get some rest."

"I understand," he said immediately. "But I'd like to help. Maybe I could come Above and help out in the shop for a while."

Knowing that Pascal rarely went Above, Ellen was nearly overcome at the meaning behind his gentle suggestion. It made her more determined than ever to find a way they could be together, without risk of danger from her life Above.

Smiling, she shook her head in answer to his offer.

"No, I know how much your world depends on you. I can manage. But I appreciate the offer more than I can say."

He smiled back at her, but there was a sadness in his eyes. "You'll let us know if there's anything we can do, won't you?"

"Yes, I will. I promise." She found herself gripping his arm more tightly, even though she knew she should be moving away from him, returning to her world to set right the problems and remove the obstacles that might separate them forever.

He lowered his eyes for a moment and then looked back at her. "I'll miss you, Ellen."

"I'll miss you, too."

Almost before they knew what was happening, they found themselves in each other's arms. Although gentle, there was nothing tentative in their first kiss, its sweet warmth promising a fulfillment yet to come. Breathlessly they parted and without further words, they returned to their separate worlds, each with a heart full of hope and love.

A warm glow seemed to surround Ellen as she climbed the final set of stairs leading to the apartment above the shop that she shared with her father. As she neared its front door, the sharp dissonance of angry voices shattered her pleasant reverie.

"I'm not going to ask you again, old man - where the hell is she?"

Gerald's voice wavered alarmingly, its unfamiliar tone sending chills down Ellen's spine as she fumbled for her key. "And I'm not going to tell you again - I don't know and even if I did, it's none of your business!''

"You don't think so, huh?" The iciness in Nick's voice was more terrifying than any heated rage could be. Ellen knew all too well that it signalled an incredibly dangerous intent. "Well, I'll show you and that daughter of yours exactly what my business is. And I have a feeling you're not gonna like it."

Gerald shuddered at the ominous sound of Nick's laughter, as Ellen burst into the room.

"What's going on here?" she demanded, sounding far braver than she felt. "Nick, what's the meaning of this?"

Ignoring her questions, the younger man strode toward her and grabbed her by the arm, squeezing painfully. His dark eyes glittered as he pulled her toward him. "Just where the hell have you been?"

For several seconds she froze where she was, unable to answer.

He tightened his grip on her arm. "I asked you a question, Ellen. And you better not tell me you were out with someone else, cause you know what I'll do, don't you? I'll find him, Ellen, and when I do you'll both be sorry you ever laid eyes on each other. Understand?"

Abruptly Ellen struggled to break free. "Nick! You're hurting me! Let go!"

His voice lowered ominously and he yanked her up against his muscular frame. "Oh, I'll do a lot more than that if I find out you've been sneaking around behind my back."

Coughing painfully, Gerald hurried toward them. "

You let go of my daughter," he cried out just as Nick pushed her roughly away, shoving her into Gerald's outstretched arms.

Full of fury and fear, Ellen turned on Nick. "How dare you come in here and threaten us like this! Get out! Now!"

Nick sneered at them. "Oh, I'm going all right. But not for long. And don't forget what I said, Ellen. If I ever find out you've been with some other man, I'll kill him. You can bet on that." He paused, clearly enjoying the look of horror on the faces of the two who stood before him.

Suddenly he reached out and jerked Ellen into his arms. Before she could escape, he forced his mouth down onto hers, scraping her delicate skin with the roughness of his teeth and tongue, until he pushed her away again. His harsh gaze travelled up and down her trembling body.

"You're mine, Ellen. You better remember that. I own you."

With a final sneering laugh, he strode past them, slamming the door on his way out, leaving father and daughter to stare at each other in silent horror. Several seconds passed before either found the strength to stir. Finally, Ellen drew Gerald to sit beside her on the sofa, and with a deep breath she began to speak.

"Dad, I'm so sorry about this. I never meant for it to go this far."

"It's not your fault, Ellen," he said quickly. "It's that Nick. He's out of control - something has to be done about him!"

"And I'll be the one to do it, Dad." Ellen's voice was surprisingly calm and firm. "It's my responsibility, not yours. I'm only sorry for what he did to you."

"Ellen, you can't handle this on your own." Gerald's concern caused him to draw in a deep rasping breath and he coughed harshly before continuing. "That man is dangerous!"

"I know," she sighed heavily. "But I have to try. There's too much at stake now - your safety for one, and..." Her voice trailed away uneasily.

"And what else, Honey?"

"And the fact that Nick could be a terrible threat to the tunnel community if he ever found out about them. I won't let that happen!"

Gerald's face tightened in renewed concern. "Maybe you better not go down there for a while, Ellen. Maybe not ever again. There's no telling what Nick would do if he had a mind to!"

"Oh, no, Dad!" Ellen's reply flew from her heart before she could caution herself to stop. "I can't stay away. Not now!"

"Why not, Ellen?"

She drew in a deep breath. "I was going to tell you soon anyway, Dad. I've... met someone, someone very special, and I don't want to stop seeing him."

Gerald's voice was gentle. "Aww, Honey, who is it?"

Ellen smiled, picturing the face she'd come to see in her dreams. "Pascal. Dad, I've fallen in love with him. And I think he loves me too."

Gerald closed his eyes for a moment, unwilling and unable to say what he felt was necessary, while the sight of his daughter's radiant face was before him. Sighing heavily, he forced himself to look at her.

"Ellen, this can't be. It will never work between the two of you."

"But why, Dad? Why would you say such a thing?"

"It's not what you might be thinking. It's not just that life Below is different from Above. I know what you can adapt to whatever life you set your mind to. And it's not because life in the tunnels can be hard. Why, you've never turned away from more than your share of the work all your life. And I've known Pascal for a long, long time. He's a fine man, Ellen, a very fine man."

"Then what is the reason?" Her voice rose with anxiety. "What did you mean?"

"Oh, honey, don't you see?" Gerald felt like crying, knowing his next words would surely break his daughter's heart. "It's Nick. You can never risk his finding out about Below. Even if you can manage to break up with him, you can't take the chance that someday he'll come back into your life, maybe follow you, discover a tunnel entrance. And with that crazy temper of his, there's no way there wouldn't be trouble, terrible trouble. You just can't take that chance, Ellen, and put all those fine people in jeopardy."

Ellen's eyes filled with tears and she leaned into her father's comforting embrace. "I know you're right, Dad. I know. But I just hoped there would be a way."

"I wish there was, Honey. I really do. Well, maybe if you try talking to Nick, at least try and get him out of your life once and for all, then maybe we can work something out." He tried to convey even a whisper of hope, but they both knew it was futile.

"No, even if he does let me go, you're right - there will always be the chance that he'll come back." Her voice quivered in a sob. "Oh, if only I'd met Pascal years ago, before Nick, none of this would have happened."

"That's my fault, Ellen," Gerald answered somberly. "I should have shared what I know with you a long time ago."

Straightening, she looked into her father's eyes. "Don't think like that. It isn't your fault at all. If I'd been ready to know about Below, you would have told me. This is my problem now, and I'll do what I have to do." Tears filled her eyes again in spite of her brave words. ''I'll go and see Pascal and tell him everything. And then I'll never go Below again. I'll never..."

She couldn't go on, and for many minutes father and daughter sat together in the darkened room, caught in the sorrows of happiness lost and joys which could never be.

***

In the world Above the early summer morning dawned clear and warm, and while the blue skies and gentle breezes could not be enjoyed by those Below, the promises it offered of lush renewal and delightful possibilities were savoured within their hearts.

As they left the communal dining chamber following their noontime meal, Pascal hurried to catch up with Vincent's long-legged strides. "Vincent, wait up a minute, will you? I need to talk to you!"

Pausing at the sound of his friend's voice, Vincent turned toward him. "Certainly, Pascal. What is it?"

Glancing about to make sure no one overheard them, Pascal took a deep breath and began. "I, uh, I wanted to ask you something, but it's kind of personal, so if you don't want to tell me, that's okay... Maybe I'd better just get back to the Pipe Chamber."

A quizzical smile touched Vincent's mouth as he reached out to place a gently restraining hand on his friend's shoulder. "Pascal, we've been friends all our lives. If you want to ask me something, then please just go ahead and ask. We will both survive, as will our friendship, if we find it is something we cannot discuss comfortably."

Glancing up quickly with a sheepish smile, Pascal acknowledged the straightforward sensitivity in Vincent's words. "You're right, but it's just - well, it's a situation I didn't expect to find myself in, so I guess I'm kind of nervous about the whole thing."

"Sometimes it's just best to begin."

Drawing in another deep breath, Pascal blurted out his request. "I wanted to know where you go with Catherine when you take walks in the park at night."

Watching his friend's face, Pascal noted the patience and concern reflected in the man's unique features as he began to speak. "Sometimes we simply walk along the less travelled paths, never venturing too far from the safety of the tunnel entrance. But sometimes, if it's very late and no one's about we go as far as the carousel or to a stone bridge that spans a small lake. When there is a full moon, it reflects in the waters of the lake... and it is very beautiful."

Vincent's bemused expression and hushed tones told Pascal that this was the answer he had sought. He knew that his friend would respect his wishes if he did not elaborate further, but there was a need in him to explain, to share the wonderment that had entered his life, changing it forever.

"Thanks, Vincent. I wanted to know because, well, because I thought I would ask Ellen to go for a walk with me in the park. And since I've been Above so few times in my life, I didn't know what it would be like, or where to go."

At Pascal's words, Vincent gave him his complete attention, pulling his thoughts from the delightful memories the question had evoked.

"The places I have mentioned," he began, "are not far from the storm drain entrance to the tunnels, no longer than a ten minute walk. There are many people about during the daylight hours, and you will be safe enough then. But, Pascal, even though Catherine and I must plan our ventures Above only under cover of night, you should try to stay away after dark. It isn't safe then and, unfortunately, others you might encounter would not be there for such harmless reasons."

Pascal nodded thoughtfully. "Thanks, Vincent. I'll remember. I think I'd like to ask Ellen to meet me at the bridge. Would you explain to me exactly where it is, so that I can tell her?"

He pulled a small notebook from his tunic pocket and jotted down the notes that Vincent gave him. "Thanks again," Pascal repeated happily. "I'm going to write a note to Ellen and ask Kipper if he'll take it up to her." A small frown creased his forehead. "Her father is ill and she told me she'll have to spend a lot of time in the shop, so she might not be able to get away until early evening. Do you think that it would still be safe in the park then?"

"This time of year, yes," Vincent answered. "But do not linger, Pascal. The world Above is filled with things of beauty and wonder, but it is filled with danger, too, danger of which you and I have little understanding."

With effort Pascal hid the grin that threatened to erupt. He knew his friend had no idea how much he sounded like Father as he issued his well-intentioned warnings.

"I won't forget, Vincent," he promised as he began to walk back toward the main chamber, anxious to find Kipper and get his message on its way to Ellen. "And thanks again. I really appreciate your help."

As Vincent watched his friend break into a run, he issued a silent prayer that all would be well.

Hours later, Ellen locked the door of the shop behind her and walked swiftly along the sidewalk, heading toward the park. At dusk the air had grown cooler, and pale lavender shadows began to fill in places once alight with the sun's warm glow. Ellen thrust one hand into the pocket of her light cotton sweater and shivered slightly, knowing at once that the sensation arose not from the early evening air, but from her knowledge of the message on the small slip of paper her fingers now caressed. Despite her brave words, the previous night, she knew she had to see Pascal again, and suddenly it was all too easy to let herself ignore the very real fears that surrounded them.

Reaching Central Park West, Ellen quickly crossed the wide street and turned south, intent on entering the park at the entrance to the bridge Pascal had chosen for their meeting. She pictured him standing on the curving stone structure, waiting only for her, and her heart beat faster in anticipation. Suddenly, unwelcome thoughts of another man invaded her reverie, and the rapid flutter of her heart took on a darker meaning. If Nick ever finds out about Pascal... the horrible thought consumed her for what seemed like the hundredth time. I have to be very, very careful, she reminded herself, immediately looking about to see if she were being followed. I can't let down my guard even for a moment.

Ellen breathed a sigh of relief, as she realised that the only people she could see seemed to be busy concentrating only upon reaching their own destinations, without interference from others. As she paused at the park entrance, she watched a middle-aged man walking his dog nearby and heard the high-pitched laughter of several teenage girls as they hurried past, intent on interests of their own. There seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary, and with a final careful glance behind her, Ellen walked quickly into the dusky park, knowing that within minutes she would reach the bridge and the save haven of Pascal's arms.

Despite what she believed to be her complete caution and care, Ellen had let her hopeful desires blind her to the dark reality of a man so unlike the one who had won her heart. From the moment she had left the shop, Nick had been following her, slipping through shadowy streets like a predatory serpent, staying just out of sight, but always ready to strike. His lips pulled back in a dangerous grin, as he contemplated what he might find when he had followed Ellen to her destination. There was no doubt in his mind that she had been hiding something - or someone - from him, and the pleasure he would feel in dealing with the betrayal would be equalled only by the terror and pain she would know when he found them. And as for the man with her, Nick promised himself with a cruel, quiet laugh, well, he'd wish he'd never been born.

Having spent most of her life in the city, Ellen knew the park well and realised she had almost reached the turnoff to the bridge. Although she wanted nothing more than to run as fast as she could, covering the remaining distance in a heartbeat, she forced herself to slow down and act as if she had nothing in mind save for a pleasant walk on a summer evening. Spotting a wooden bench at the edge of the path, she seated herself upon it and let her gaze wander over the nearby scene, pretending to casually enjoy the sight of the leafy trees and fresh summer flowers all around her. The others who strolled the quiet walkways took no notice of her.

Just as she was about to rise from the bench, she felt an icy prickling of fear rip through her, as if some sixth sense were issuing a warning, a summons that could be fatal if ignored. She knew without a doubt that someone was watching her, someone who meant her nothing but harm, and she realised, too, that she must not let him know she had sensed his presence.

Feigning interest in the lovely blossoms of a nearby azalea, Ellen slowly rose and walked toward the bush, bending slightly to touch the flowers. As she did, she subtly raised her eyes in the direction of the man who was watching her. It took every bit of her self-control not to tremble violently, when to her horror she recognized Nick Belmont. His face was averted as he lurked in the deepening darkness provided by the overhanging branches of a tree several yards away, but there was not even the smallest, soothing shred of doubt in Ellen's mind as to the identity of the pursuer.

Somehow, a cold calmness born of desperation, descended over the woman. Straightening, she let her glance drift idly over her surroundings and then she began retracing her steps, seemingly intent on making her way out of the park at a relaxed, carefree pace. Her heart hammered in her chest, as she approached Nick's hiding place, knowing the sidewalk would take her within a few feet of him. She forced herself to continue on without faltering, and with an odd sense of relief she heard the tiny rustle of leaves and soft pad of footsteps on grass that indicated he was following her once again.

If I can only lead him away, out of the park, then it'll be okay. Everything will be all right. The frantic thought filled her mind, echoing over and over like a doomed promise. Every step took her farther from her heart's desire, yet she knew it was the only way she could hope to keep him safe.

Although it seemed like torturous hours, it was only minutes before Ellen reached the park entrance and turned north once more, continuing to walk calmly toward home. When she stopped at a corner to wait for the lights to change, she let herself glance back, and at once felt a tremendous sense of relief when she saw that Nick had continued to follow her. Now that he was away from the park, she knew that their safety had been regained. But even as that thought helped calm her racing heart, she could not ignore the reality that they were still locked on a collision course that she might be powerless to avoid.

Hastening her steps, Ellen hurried onward, already searching her heart and mind for the words that could convey a message of explanation to Pascal. Tears filled her eyes as she thought of him, patiently waiting for her on the bridge, anxiously watching the shadows grow deeper and feeling the night turn cold and dark when she didn't come to him. The heartbreaking image was her only companion as she fled through the city streets.

His eyes narrowing, Nick watched the woman make her way northward. Satisfied that she was returning home, he paused and then began to retrace his steps. When Ellen had stopped at the park bench and then changed direction, strolling out of the park again, Nick almost let himself be convinced that her actions were as innocent as they appeared to be - until a tiny but fatal error on the woman's part served to renew the dark intent in his heart. He felt sure Ellen had been totally unaware of the revealing expression on her face as her eyes had subconsciously but repeatedly flickered toward the pathway that led only to the bridge. With that uncontrollable gesture, she had unknowingly betrayed herself and had destroyed even the illusion of safety she had so desperately sought to create.

Nick chuckled to himself as he re-entered the park. With merciless cunning, he had immediately conceived of a plan to catch his victims in a cage of their own design, and now he turned his attention to the man who waited for Ellen on the bridge. He knew it was a trysting place for lovers. But tonight there would be no blissful meeting there, no kisses and caresses joyfully given and received. He would make sure of that.

At the crest of the curved stone bridge, Pascal glanced nervously from side to side. The sun had fully set and the encroaching darkness had put to flight all but very few of those who had sought the quietude and serenity of the park. Nervously, he recalled Vincent's words of warning, and admitted with a shudder that he had done exactly what Vincent had cautioned him to avoid. 'Above' was truly an alien landscape to Pascal, and with growing trepidation he realised that he might well become lost in a world he'd never known, full of dangers he could not even begin to guess at.

Overriding his concern for his own safety, was his burgeoning fear for Ellen's well-being. He knew that she had received his note, for the reply was still carefully folded within his jacket pocket, and unconsciously he reached for it, needing to feel its tangible proof of their assignation. 'Where can she be?' he worried. 'Vincent told me how dangerous the park can be after dark. Has something happened to her? Should I go and look for her - should I wait? What should I do?'

Feeling more lost and alone than he had ever thought possible, Pascal felt his heart race with near panic. Looking about once again, he saw that he was alone on the bridge. The once gentle twilight had become a dark and forbidding night, a place where possibilities would be abandoned and left defenseless against untold dangers.

Fighting within himself for a solution to the dilemma that nearly consumed him, Pascal's attention was abruptly captured by the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. He whirled in their direction and saw a large man hurrying toward him. Peering in the gloom he hoped he would find a familiar friend, but with a shiver of misgiving, he saw it was the face of a stranger.

Slowing his steps, Nick called out to Pascal. "Hi, excuse me, but are you waiting for Ellen Bailey?"

Cautiously Pascal hesitated, but the wide smile on the man's face managed to still any misgivings. "Yes, I am. Are you a friend of hers?"

"Yeah, I work in her father's shop," Nick lied smoothly, surreptitiously looking over his opponent and fighting to disguise the smug disdain he felt at the sight of the man. "My name's Tom. I'm one of the clerks."

Relief flooded through Pascal as he recognized the name from a previous conversation with Ellen, and he looked up at the tall, heavily muscled man, waiting for him to continue.

"Ellen can't make it here to meet you tonight," Nick said. "She asked me to come and tell you she's sorry she has to break your date, but it can't be helped."

"Is her father feeling worse?" Pascal worried, his emotional upheaval all too easily overpowering his natural sense of prudence. "I know he hasn't been well."

"Yeah, that's it exactly. Ellen has to stay with him." As Nick continued the charade, he had begun to walk back down the gently sloping bridge toward the tree-shrouded pathways, correctly presuming Pascal would follow him. "She was real disappointed she couldn't meet you like you planned."

With extreme effort he managed to contain the flames of fury kindled by the look of happiness his words had brought Pascal's gentle face. Only a few more minutes, he vowed silently, curling his strong fingers into tight fists. Only a few more minutes.

"I really appreciate your coming here to let me know," Pascal said warmly. "Are you going back to the shop now by any chance?"

"I sure am," Nick answered, picturing with satisfaction the look of horror that would transform Ellen's pretty face when he described to her in lurid detail what he had done to her friend.

By now they had reached a secluded section in the park. The meagre illumination provided by widely spaced street lights barely touched the faces of the two men as they walked along the deserted path.

"Then would you mind giving Ellen a message for me?" Pascal began. When Nick did not answer, he paused and looked questioningly at him. "That is, if it's not too much trouble or anything?"

As Pascal watched, the other man stopped abruptly and turned to take a single step in his direction. With a rising sense of alarm, Pascal took in the hard, glittering eyes and the menacing stance that had transformed the benevolent messenger into a fearsome opponent. Instinctively, Pascal began to back away, but he was far too late. In an instant, Nick had thrust himself forward, easily grabbing hold of Pascal's arm, cutting off any chance of escape.

His lips curled in a smile of pure malice as he answered Pascal's innocent question. "Oh, I'd be glad to deliver a message to Ellen for you, pal, only it's not gonna be the one that little bitch expects to hear, now is it?"

Before Pascal had any chance to defend himself, Nick struck. As swift and destructive as a bolt of lightning, he descended upon the smaller man, smashing his fists into Pascal's face and body, brutally beating him to the ground.

In seconds it was over, and as Pascal lay nearly unconscious upon the dark, damp earth, Nick reached down and shook him violently, like a rabid dog delivering a final blow to a wounded rabbit. Pascal's rapidly swelling eyelids opened and he stared up in horror at Nick's snarling face.

"You better listen good," Nick said, the unexpected calmness of his voice adding yet another bizarre turn to the twisted horror of the night. "Ellen Bailey is mine - get it? Mine! If you ever try to see her or talk to her again, I'll know. And next time, I won't be so nice about it." His sneering laugh tore through Pascal's mind. "Next time, I just might have to kill you. Or if I don't, I guarantee you'll wish you were dead."

With that final word, Nick released Pascal, snickering as he collapsed in pain. Unable to resist, Nick idly stretched out one heavily-booted foot and landed a sharp kick to Pascal's ribs, as if serving a last unmistakable warning.

The last thing Pascal heard as he fell into blessedly unconscious oblivion was his own voice whispering her name like a hopeless prayer. "Ellen, Ellen..."

Below the city streets, Pascal's plaintive cry went unanswered. In the sub-basement of the shop, Ellen laboriously tapped out a message, hoping frantically that someone would be able to interpret her words and come to her aid. Finally, almost wild with fear, she heard someone approaching and ran toward the sound.

"Vincent!" she gasped, her voice harsh with barely suppressed panic. "Thank goodness you're here!"

"Ellen, what is it? Can you tell me?"

The sheer strength of his presence and the mellow tone of his voice began to calm her at once and allowed her to explain.

"I'm worried about Pascal," she began. "I was supposed to meet him Above an hour ago - at the bridge in the park. But something happened and I couldn't get there. He must be waiting for me - I have to let him know!"

Vincent nodded. "Surely he will realize you have been detained and he will return home," he offered.

"No! I mean, yes. I mean - oh, I don't know what to say to you!" All her new-found calmness dissolved before Vincent's worried eyes.

"What's wrong, Ellen?" he asked. "If you believe Pascal to be in danger, you must tell me."

She looked up at him, her dark eyes filled with tears. "I'll tell you everything I can, but, please, will you trust me? There are some things I must tell Pascal first. He must hear them from me."

"I will trust you, Ellen." Vincent fought to contain his own mounting fears. "Now please, tell me."

"On my way to the park," she began, "I thought everything would be all right. But when I got close to the bridge, I realised I was being followed. I tried not to let on to the person that I knew he was there, and he followed me out of the park again, before he had a chance to see Pascal." She hesitated and with another tearful glance at Vincent's serious face, she forced herself to continue. "Maybe I'm overreacting, maybe everything is all right. But..."

"Yes? Go on," he urged.

"If the man who followed me were to somehow suspect, then there could be terrible trouble. He - he was a friend once, but now I know he means me nothing but harm, and..."

"And," Vincent continued for her, "If he were to discover Pascal's existence and what he means to you, then he would harm Pascal as well."

"Yes," she sobbed. "Yes."

"Then we must find Pascal, warn him of the danger. Come with me!"

Ellen ran to match Vincent's pace, labouring to catch her breath. Minutes later they reached the periphery of the tunnel leaning to the drain pipe that opened into the park. She watched as Vincent released the switch to slide open the security panel and then unlocked and swung open the barred gate.

"Wait!" she screamed as Vincent strode forward. "You can't go out there!"

He hesitated, terribly reluctant to lose another minute before making certain of his friend's safety. "It will be all right. I often go up into the park at night." With a small, forced smile, he extended his hand toward her. "I will be able to protect myself."

"No," she protested, desperately grasping his arm with both hands in a futile attempt to stop him. "You don't understand! He has a gun. He keeps it with him almost all the time. You won't be able to stop him if he tries to shoot you."

"I will do what I have to do."

Nearly out of control with fear, she continued to cling to his arm. "No! No! You don't know what Nick can do." With a gasp of horror she heard her own words echoing between them.

"It's all right, Ellen," he said, soothing her as best he could. "I know about Nick."

"Catherine?" she whispered, staring up at him.

"Yes. She did not wish to betray your trust, but you must understand that when there is knowledge of someone or something that could be a threat to our world, then that information must be shared. Catherine had no choice. You mustn't blame her for telling us."

"No, I don't blame her. I'm my fault for trying to work this out on my own, when I knew I couldn't do it." She drew in a deep, shuddering breath.

"Does he know? Does Pascal know?"

Vincent shook his head. "No. We felt it best that you be the one to tell him in your own way and in your own time. It was not our place. Yet now it seems that choice may have been taken from us." He gently removed her hands from his arm and turned again toward the entrance to the park. "I must go and find Pascal. Wait here."

"No! I'm coming with you!"

Immediately, Vincent raised his hand, gesturing her to stop where she stood. "No, Ellen, you must wait here. Perhaps all our worry will be for nothing and I will find Pascal on the bridge, worried and impatient for you, yet unharmed. But should the worst have come to pass, then it is best that you remain here. You will be safer, and, should I not return in perhaps a quarter hour, you must signal on the pipes for help."

Ellen's tear-streaked face paled to an ashy white as she nodded her acceptance of his words. "Be careful," she whispered, her voice a feeble, breathy sound. "Please be careful."

He nodded and began striding away from her. He had gone no more than a few steps when they both heard an unexpected noise which came from the direction of the tunnel entrance. For a few seconds they stayed frozen in place, listening for further sounds which might identify who or what had made them. At first there was nothing at all, and then with instantaneous and horrified understanding, they ran forward, racing toward the man who had uttered one, final pain-filled moan before collapsing on the cold, wet metal floor.

With a strangled, gasping cry, Ellen dropped to her knees beside Pascal's crumpled body. She reached out one trembling hand, wanting to touch him, to soothe away the hurt, yet uncertain of even her most gentle touch would only inflict more pain. She looked up helplessly as Vincent hurriedly surveyed the outer perimeter of the drainage pipe, making sure they were safe from imminent danger, before he knelt to join her at Pascal's side.

With wise and tender hands Vincent quickly performed a cursory examination of his friend, determining that his injuries would not prevent his being moved immediately. In a voice that shook despite his efforts to control it, Vincent called out to the barely conscious man.

"Pascal? Pascal, it's Vincent. Can you hear me?"

For just a moment, Pascal's eyelids slowly opened and he tried to focus his gaze on the welcome sight of his friend's face. Even the subdued reflected light within the drainage pipe was so painful to him, and he sought to turn away from it. But before he could close his eyes once more, he heard another voice call to him and felt the warmth of a small, soft hand lightly touch his face. Through swollen lips he whispered her name, believing that the pain the slight movement cost him was worth it, if only to see the reflection of love and anguish his effort brought to her tear-dampened eyes.

"Pascal," she whispered as his eyes shut once more. "Please don't try to talk. You're going to be all right. Everything will be all right again. I promise."

Vincent felt a sudden, shocking surge of anger at the woman's words, and with effort he restrained the heated retort that threatened to explode from his lips, berating her for her misguided beliefs and foolish disregard for Pascal's safety that had brought his old and dear friend to this terrible state. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, he gently gathered Pascal's battered body in his arms, and tensing his muscles, he carefully rose with his wounded burden. As he did, his eyes met the anguish in Ellen's troubled gaze.

Rising with him, she gave voice to her deepest fears. "Will he be all right? Please tell me. Will he be all right?"

Vincent's deep and innate sense of compassion tamed his anger in an instant.

"It is impossible for me to say with certainty, but, yes, I think in time Pascal will be well again. And now I must bring him to the hospital chamber, so that Father can examine him and tend his injuries."

With that, Vincent re-entered the tunnels, pausing only long enough for Ellen to close and secure the gate and door and then instructing her to tap out a brief message alerting the others of their situation and advising them to prepare for a medical emergency. She followed close behind until the reached a junction where an alternate passageway would take her back to her own home. When she stopped there, Vincent hesitated, looking down at her with an expression of surprise.

"You're not coming with us, Ellen?" His tone conveyed disapproval and disbelief. "I would have expected you to want to be with Pascal when he regains consciousness."

"I do, Vincent," she answered, her voice quavering. "I want that very much, but there is something else I must do as well."

Grasping her intent, he nodded. "Nick?"

"Yes."

"Ellen, you mustn't approach this man on your own! If he could inflict such brutality on Pascal, then you would not be safe with him. Please, stay Below until we can plan what must be done."

"No." The woman's voice grew strong and full of purpose. "I will be careful, but I will do what I have to do."

They exchanged a small hint of a smile as she echoed his earlier words.

"What shall I tell Pascal when he awakes?" Vincent asked. "He will wish to see you."

Once again, she reached out to brush a fluttering caress to Pascal's injured face. "Tell him I will come back as soon as I can," she whispered. "Please, just tell him that."

With a whimpering sob, she turned and fled toward her home, knowing deep in her heart that when she told Pascal the truth about Nick, there was very chance she would lose his love and trust forever.

***

Father rubbed a weary hand across his eyes. "Whatever possessed him to go Above like that without telling anyone? He might have been killed for his foolishness!"

Rising from his chair opposite his father's, Vincent began to pace the length of the hospital chamber.

"It is partly my fault, Father. Pascal had asked me about places Above that would be suitable for a walk with Ellen. I told him about the bridge. But I did not realize he meant to go Above so soon, before discussing it further with us."

Sighing, Father rose to join his son. "It isn't your fault, Vincent." He grasped his son's arm in an effort to halt the restless pacing, and looked up into the cloudy blue eyes. "Do you think you could have stopped him, even if you knew of his plans?"

"No, I suppose not," Vincent agreed. "But I could have tried. I..."

Father's hard snort of laughter interrupted his son's words. "And you would have had as much success as I had all those times I tried to keep you from running off to be with Catherine!"

Acknowledging the truth in his father's statement with a brief nod and the ghost of a smile, Vincent walked to the threshold of the chamber. "I will check on Pascal before turning in, Father, but you'll call me if there are any changes during the night?"

"Yes, of course I will. Try to get some sleep now, son."

The remaining hours of the night were filled with restless slumber and disturbing dreams for those who shared in Pascal's plight. Finally, Father rose and made his way to the hospital chamber, sadly prepared for a confrontation he wished with all his heart were not necessary.

Pascal was awake and sitting up, propped against a mound of snowy white pillows. His bruised face stood out in lurid relief against the starkness of the hospital linen, and it was with painful effort that he reached for the mug of steaming tea Mary had recently left him on the bedside table. Groaning slightly at the strain even this simple effort put on his injured ribs, he sank back against the pillows once again. It was then that he caught sight of Father standing silently in the doorway, observing his actions with a look of deep concern.

"Good morning, Father. Come in." Pascal's voice was quiet, yet bore its ever-present sense of dignity.

"How are you feeling this morning?" Father began, seating himself next to the bed. "Were you able to sleep? Any further discomfort?"

"I'd be lying if I said I felt fine," Pascal tried to joke. "But I was able to sleep - and I guess I should be grateful things aren't worse than they are."

Father sighed deeply and ran a weary hand through his greying hair. "You're certainly right about that. Will you tell me what happened to you?"

"Yes. It's important that you know. I may have made a terrible mistake - in some ways - and if it should endanger our lives here, then I have to try and change things."

"Go on," Father urged. "I'm listening."

The lines and shadows in the older man's face seemed to deepen as he listened to the details of Pascal's story. 'Dear God', he asked silently, 'Will the world Above never cease to try and destroy us? Is there no place we can be safe from its hatred and violence?'

When Pascal had explained everything as best he could, Father was surprised to feel his anger fade away, only to be replaced by a heavy, suffocating sadness. Sighing once more, he forced himself to begin.

"You do know, of course, Pascal, that you were wrong to go Above without telling anyone else of your plans. That in itself violates one of our primary safety precautions." At Pascal's nod, he continued, his voice more gentle than he would have expected. "Your life is here with us Below. You have your family, your friends. You are a valued and well-loved member of our society. How could we ever continue to exist without your system of communications? We need you here, Pascal, with us... Do not think I am uncaring of your affection for Ellen. I understand more than you realize. But you must think of the consequences. Can you truly risk everything you've known and loved your entire life for this dream, a dream that can come true only at great hardship and perhaps disaster for others? Your dream now threatens our whole world. If a cruel, violent man like Nick Belmont ever finds out about us, he would surely endanger everyone and everything. And we both know who would immediately rush to our defense, destroying himself in the process. Can you take that risk, Pascal, one that could mean the ruination of the only home we know, and perhaps the very life of your dearest friend?"

There were quiet tears in the eyes of both men as with great sadness and reluctance, Pascal admitted that Father was right.

"I will speak to Ellen as soon as I can," he promised. "If there is a way to make things right, then we will try. But if not, then I will not see her again."

Father rose to his feet, leaning heavily on his ever-present cane. "I'm sorry that it has to be this way, Pascal. If somehow things can change, know that we will support you, but if not..."

Pascal looked up at him, the heaviness in his heart reflected in his eyes. "I know, Father... and thank you."

Hours later, Pascal was awakened from a drowsy near-sleep by the touch of a small, gentle hand on his cheek. Opening his eyes, he found himself gazing up at Ellen's face, and for several moments he believed he might still be asleep, dreaming of all the lovely things that had been within his reach and yet now might be lost forever.

"Pascal," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. But I had to see you. I have to explain."

With effort he pushed himself to a sitting position and gestured toward the nearby chair. "Sit down please, Ellen. You're right. We need to talk."

The pain in his patient eyes was almost more than she could bear. Somehow, its terrible message tore through her heart with more force than even the sight of his bruised and battered body. Tentatively, she reached out and covered his hand with hers. As he winced slightly she tried to draw away, but with surprising swiftness, he grasped her fingers and held on tightly.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know... and will you tell me now? It hurts more not to know, Ellen. If we can heal at all, then there can't be any more secrets between us."

Struggling to hold back the tears his honest, heartfelt words evoked, Ellen began her sad story. She withheld nothing from the man she loved, knowing that while the truth would inflict new pain, it could also hold their only chance, their only hope.

"...and after what happened last night, while Vincent brought you home, I went looking for Nick. I wanted to have it out with him, to finish things once and for all, but I couldn't find him. I looked everywhere! But it was as if he knew somehow, and this was just another way to torment both of us."

"Ellen, don't do anything foolish! You don't know how he will react when you tell him. I agree it must be done, but can't it wait until we can do it together?"

The heaviness in Ellen's heart began to lift just a little when she realised that Pascal had no intention of giving up on her without a fight. Yet the doubt that still clouded his eyes had to be dealt with. There were painful questions left unresolved.

"Oh, Pascal, you don't know what it means to me to hear you say that, to know that you want to stand by me. I thought I'd lost you forever... but there's something more, isn't there?"

He nodded solemnly. "Yes. I understand why you didn't tell me right away about Nick. Everything between us was happening so fast. But, Ellen, until this is resolved, we cannot go on seeing each other." At her tearful gasp, he nearly lost his courage, but forced himself to continue. "There is much more at stake now than just you and me. Nick is a threat to this community, to our entire world Below. No matter how much we may wish to be together, we cannot stake our chance at happiness against the lives of so many others. It is impossible."

Eyes shining with unshed tears, she gazed at him and nodded her sorrowful agreement. "You are an honourable man, Pascal. I understand. And you are right that we cannot put everyone else at risk. But what are we to do? I don't want to lose you!"

Unable to help herself, she rose from the chair and came to him. Gently and carefully, they held each other, feeling their hearts beat together in a slow and mournful cadence.

"I love you, Pascal," she whispered. "There was a time when I thought I was in love with Nick, but now I know that never could be. You have opened your heart to me and have shown me everything that is good and true, everything I'd ever hoped to find. I don't want this to end, Pascal. Please, please don't send me away."

"We have no choice for now, Ellen," he answered, his eyes pressed shut in pain. "Until I can come Above and we can speak to Nick together, then we must stay apart. You must not come here again. I'm sorry, but there's no other way."

Sobbing, she withdrew from their tender embrace and looked down at him, fearing that in spite of their brave words, it might be for the last time.

"Will you send word to me when you're well then?"

"Yes, of course I will," he promised, watching sadly as she nodded and turned to walk to the chamber entrance. Suddenly, he knew he could not let her go without giving voice to the words of his heart.

"Ellen!" She hesitated and turned her head to look back at him. "I love you, Ellen," he said.

For just a moment she closed her eyes in joy and pain. "I know," she whispered, before running from the chamber, leaving behind everything she longed for in the world.

***

Several days later Pascal had recovered sufficiently to resume his duties in the Pipe Chamber. He tried to put back together the shattered pieces of his life, trying to take comfort in the everyday workings of his beloved pipes, but the effort was hollow and to no avail. He found he could concentrate on little but the dilemma of his relationship with Ellen. He had not contacted her as he had promised to do, for he felt he still had nothing to offer that might resolve their tremendous problems. And yet he longed for her more than he could admit, even to himself.

Staring at the spiderweb of twisting, turning metal pipes, Pascal saw in them for the first time not the familiar structure of his life's work, but a strange and forbidding cage of steel and copper, one which enclosed his life and shut out his dreams. Without thinking, he grabbed a rusty hammer and began pounding against the nearest pipes, beating out a discordant, tortured keening that echoed the torment in his breaking heart.

The horrible sound clamoured throughout the tunnel world, alarming everyone with its message of uncontrollable misery. With immediate understanding, Vincent ran through the rocky corridors and within minutes was at his friend's side. Striding forward, he pulled the hammer from Pascal's hand and cast it aside.

For several moments Pascal stood in the now silent chamber, his head bent downward and his narrow shoulders shaking with exertion. At last, he looked up at his friend who waited patiently at his side. His voice, when it came, was quiet but full of honesty and conviction.

"I love her. I love her and I need her. But I don't know what to do."

The two friends found a place to sit side by side on the cool, concrete floor. "I'm sorry for what the two of you are suffering, Pascal," Vincent began carefully. "And if there is something I can do, know that I will gladly help you... but I feel I must repeat the warnings Father spoke of. There is terrible danger surrounding you, danger that might affect others as well, and in spite of your own wishes, your own dreams, you cannot turn away from the truth."

An uncommon anger shone in Pascal's eyes, as his head snapped up to face his oldest friend. "And what truth is that, Vincent? That the love Ellen and I feel for each other means nothing? I thought you. above everyone else, would understand what it's like to long for the woman you love, when everything and everyone seems bent on keeping you apart. I thought you would understand."

Vincent took a deep breath and answered immediately. "I'm sorry, Pascal. Of course I understand your pain. I did not mean to..."

Deeply ashamed, as he finally heard his own words ringing in his ears, Pascal reached out a hand to grasp his friend's arm.

"Please, Vincent, don't apologize. You didn't do anything. I shouldn't have said what I did. All I'm doing is taking my anger out on you. No friend deserves that." Shaking his head sadly, Pascal continued. "I just don't know what to do next."

"Sometimes," Vincent offered quietly, "we can become so wrapped up in our own pain that the most simple answer eludes us... you have told me that you love Ellen. Does she return your feelings?"

"Yes, she does."

"And when you were together last, how did you leave things between you? What are your plans?"

"I said I would contact Ellen when my injuries had healed, so that we could talk to Nick together. She wanted to see him on her own, but she promised to wait and not to try to confront that madman by herself. But I haven't sent a message to her yet. I'm not sure why... But I think it's that I'm afraid we won't be able to resolve things with Nick. He could hurt Ellen... and he could find out about Below. Maybe it's best if we just stay apart. If we never see each other again."

Vincent hesitated, knowing the words he must speak and yet realizing they held unfulfilled promises, promises that could yield great joy or unbearable pain.

"Pascal," he said quietly, "A long time ago, Catherine and I came to a realization much the same as yours. It is that some risks are worth taking - are worth everything. You must decide if this is true for you and for Ellen. Search your heart and you will know what you must do."

For the first time in many days, Pascal felt the darkness around his heart begin to recede with the sound of his friend's brave and gentle wisdom.

"Thank you, Vincent... I do know what must be done. I'm going to contact Ellen right away. We have to resolve this one way or the other. There isn't any other choice."

Nodding his understanding, Vincent rose to his feet and walked to the chamber entrance. "Catherine is Below. Shall I ask her to go Above to the hardware shop to let Ellen know you wish to speak with her?"

"Yes, thanks. Please tell her I'll be here waiting for her."

Vincent nodded again and then paused for a final moment. Once more, words he and Catherine had shared filled his heart and mind.

"Pascal, promise me one thing. You will go with courage and with care."

A new light seemed to illuminate Pascal's tense features. "We will, Vincent," he vowed. "We will."

***

While the two friends Below had shared both pain and healing, Ellen decided she could no longer wait for a message that might never come. Fearing Pascal had come to believe it was best they stay apart forever, she did the only thing she could think of that might salvage their tattered dreams.

Her hand shook a little as she raised a clenched fist to knock against the door to Nick's apartment. She hadn't seen him since the night he beat Pascal, for he had carefully avoided her, knowing his uncharacteristic absence would only unsettle her more. Seconds passed and she knocked again, this time more loudly and firmly, resolved to face the man who threatened to destroy all she hoped for.

Finally, she heard footsteps within and as the door abruptly swung open, it took all her inner strength not to flinch and leap backwards.

"Well, look who's here. My darling fiancé. Dear, dear Ellen. Come right in." He stepped aside and gestured exaggeratedly, sweeping out a burly arm in mock welcome.

The tone of his voice and the sneering, self-satisfied smile on his face fuelled the fiery anger within her and gave new strength to her waning courage. In that instant, she saw Nick's heart and soul for what they were - dark and destructive, yet as nothing when compared to the love and light that awaited her in the heart of another.

Swiftly she walked into the living room and seated herself on the couch. "I won't stay long, Nick. We need to talk, and all I ask is that you be reasonable and hear me out. Then I'll leave."

"Of course, Ellen. You can trust me. What do you want to talk about?"

She looked at him with cautious eyes, knowing that his calm tone was nothing more than another disguise. As he seated himself next to her, she realised her mistake in choosing to sit where she did, and it took all her will power not to reveal the disgust she felt at his nearness.

"Nick," she began, her voice low but steady. "I'm sorry, but I don't think we should see each other anymore. I want to break off our engagement."

He reached for her hand, smothering it in his huge grip. "But why, Ellen, honey? What's wrong? Is it something I did?"

The forced charade sickened her, but she knew she had to go on. "No, of course not. It's just that I'm not ready for marriage right now. I have Dad to consider, what with his poor health and all, and I don't feel I can make that kind of commitment to you now."

His grasp tightened slightly. "Then I'll wait for you, Ellen. I won't leave you."

As carefully as she could, she tried to withdraw her hand from his, but he wouldn't let her go. "No, Nick, I can't ask you to do that. You should be free to find someone else."

For several seconds he did not reply, but it was long enough for his mask to shatter, crumbling away like decaying flesh before her eyes. The false tenderness in his eyes turned to the cold, relentless force she knew all too well.

"Find someone else - you mean like you already did?" The soft frigid voice sent shards of fear through her. "That's right, Ellen. I know all about him. We've already met… but, of course, you know that."

Her gasping breath delighted him and he continued. "But tell me something - what can you possibly see in that little creep? He's nothing, Ellen - less than nothing! You make me sick - going to something like that when you've had me." He gave her wrist a cruel jerk, twisting it painfully. "Maybe you've forgotten what it's like to have a real man, Ellen, is that it? Maybe I should remind you."

With a tremendous force born of fear and revulsion, Ellen wrenched her hand free and in a few quick strides had reached the apartment door. But within seconds Nick was upon her. Grasping her shoulders, he spun her around and pinned her back against the door with his massive body.

"Let go of me, Nick! Let go of me right now!"

"You stupid bitch! You don't get it, do you?" He sneered at her, his leering face only inches from her frightened face. "I told you I'm not letting you go. Not that I really want you anymore." He shoved his body harder against her. "Now that you've been with him, you're damaged goods. But I still own you and I'll do whatever I want with you. And you know what will happen if you try to fight me, don't you?"

She stared at him, frozen by his attack.

"Don't you, Ellen?" he prompted, and was rewarded by her slight nod. "That useless father of yours might be sick, but he's not dying. Not yet anyway. If you want to keep him healthy, you better cooperate. And as for that boyfriend of yours, you better tell him to get lost... No, I think we should tell him together, don't you?"

As he unknowingly echoed Pascal's brave and hopeful words, Ellen felt her heart break. It was all over now. There was nothing more to do.

Nick's smile was a hideous reflection of his cruel and twisted spirit. "Yeah, now that I think of it, I kinda like that idea. You call him and tell him to meet you someplace. Tell him to meet you on that bridge - I think you both know the one. He'll be in for the second surprise of his life, won't he?"

Somehow she found the strength to try one last time. "I won't do it, Nick. You can't make me do it."

"Oh, can't I?" With the lightning quick speed of a deadly shark, he leaned back from her and then seized her by the throat with one rough hand. Slowly he tightened his grip until she gasped for breath, struggling ineffectively against him. "This is just a reminder, Ellen, just something to think about while you make your phone call." Abruptly releasing her, he shoved her in the direction of the phone that sat on a nearby table. "Do it," he barked. "Now!"

The panic that suffused her made Ellen act on pure instinct. With trembling fingers, she punched in a recently memorized number, praying that she would receive an answer. She listened as the phone rang once, then twice, and nearly cried with relief when she heard a familiar voice.

"Hello," she began, fighting to keep the sound of tears from her voice. "It's Ellen."

"Ellen! Where are you? I've just come from the hardware shop, but no one knew where you'd gone. Pascal wants to see you as soon as possible. He asked me to try and find you." Catherine's concern was evident in every word.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think to tell anyone where I was going, dear."

"Dear?" Catherine echoed. "Ellen, what's going on?"

"That's right, darling. I want to see you too."

Catherine spoke quietly, hoping that no one but her friend would hear her response. "Ellen, are you with Nick? Is that it?"

"Yes, I am. Where should we meet?"

"Look, don't let on at all - just answer yes or no. You went to see him on your own, didn't you?"

"I'm afraid so," Ellen continued, striving to keep her voice light.

"And he's forcing a confrontation with Pascal?" Catherine replied, quickly sizing up the situation. "Where?"

"Why don't we meet at the bridge, like always?" Ellen said sweetly, looking up to see the satisfied smile on Nick's face. "Say in a half-hour or so?"

"I'll be there, Ellen," Catherine promised. "I'll help you."

Wishing with all her heart she could spare her friend's involvement, Ellen could not prevent a hint of desperation that coloured her voice, praying that Nick would not notice.

"I wish there was another way. I..."

Cruelly Nick leaned forward and cuffed her face with the back of his hand. "That's enough," he hissed. "Hang up."

"I have to go now. See you soon... and come alone, okay?"

Catherine had heard the brief exchange and knew at once that this was a promise she could not make.

"No, Ellen, I won't be alone. We have to finish this - all of us - together."

"No!" Ellen gasped. "Don't!" The only sound she heard was the click of the receiver, as Catherine cut off their call. Now there was nothing anyone could do to stop what was to come.

Minutes later, Catherine reached the tunnel threshold beneath her building and furiously pounded out a coded message, calling Vincent and Pascal to her side. She paced anxiously as she awaited them, imagining what might take place Above. She believed their ruse had fooled Nick, but she could not be certain, and she shuddered as she envisioned what could happen to Ellen should he somehow guess the truth.

At last she heard pounding footsteps and ran forward to meet them. "Vincent! Thank God you're here!" She could not keep the fear from her voice.

"What has happened, Catherine? Tell me?"

Before she could begin, Pascal interrupted. "Ellen - where is Ellen?" The long run through the tunnels had put a terrible strain on his bruised ribs and his breathing was laboured. "Didn't you find her?"

"Sit down a minute," Vincent ordered firmly, knowing his friend would argue. "We must give Catherine a chance to explain, and you need to rest."

"Vincent's right," Catherine began as the words of protest died on Pascal's lips. "Ellen needs us - all of us. Now listen."

Briefly, but thoroughly, she explained what had happened. "...And now Ellen's on her way to the bridge with Nick. He's expecting to find Pascal there alone. He wants to watch as Ellen tells Pascal that she'll never see him again, that she loves Nick instead."

Pascal could not hide the involuntary moan that Catherine's words drew forth.

"Oh, Pascal, I'm sorry," she hurried told him. "I didn't mean to hurt you more."

"It's all right, Catherine. You didn't do anything. I needed to hear it, and I know that Ellen loves me."

Catherine nodded reassuringly, as Vincent gently interrupted. "We must decide what to do. Ellen and Nick will be at the bridge very soon."

"I'm going Above," Pascal replied immediately, wheeling in the direction of the tunnel that led to the drainage pipe. "Ellen needs me with her."

Reaching out one large hand, Vincent stopped the smaller man in mid-stride. "You cannot go alone, my friend. I'm coming with you."

"And so am I," Catherine vowed. "Let's go."

Both men knew better than to waste time arguing with Catherine, and together they raced for the gated tunnel entrance. "It will be quite dark Above now, Vincent, and there should be no one about," Catherine began, gasping slightly as they reached their destination. "But you must be careful - promise me you will!"

Their eyes met in heartfelt understanding. They had worked so hard to prevent Vincent's further involvement in life-threatening dangers from the world Above, and yet it seemed as if fate worked constantly to destroy their painstakingly-constructed safety.

Pascal's quiet voice broke into their sad communion. "I won't try to talk you out of going, Vincent. You wouldn't listen, and, besides, I need you. I need both of you, but don't take any crazy chances, okay?"

Somehow the three friends summoned the small, sad smiles they shared with each other, and then, as one, they moved out into the dark, still summer might.

"I'll go on a bit ahead," Pascal suggested firmly. "Nick expects to see me alone. You two hang back and wait until we see what's going to happen, all right?"

Knowing Vincent was about to argue with Pascal's sensible plan, Catherine quickly spoke up, grasping Vincent's hand tightly as she did so.

"That makes perfect sense, Pascal. We won't leave you, but we'll stay to the shadows out of sight."

"I don't like it," Vincent added warily, pulling up the hood of his cloak, hiding his identity from the world of strangers. "But I agree it seems to be the best plan for now."

Moments later, they reached the path that would bring them to the bridge. Vincent and Catherine paused, waiting anxiously as Pascal went on alone.

Only with the greatest effort was Pascal able to force himself to walk up the sloping stone walkway and onto the bridge. More than anything else, he wanted to race ahead and pull Ellen into his arms, away from all danger and madness, and bring her to a world where she would be safe and loved. Just then he saw her standing beneath a single street lamp, her face a mask of barely contained terror, that even the pale, hazy light could not conceal. She was alone.

It was the sight of that wounded, trembling figure that made him forget all his careful promises, and in a heartbeat he found himself running, closing the slight distance between them, calling out her name as he opened his arms to her. For a brief moment, joy and relief shone from her face like sunlight after a terrible storm. But just as swiftly, her expressions turned to one of paralyzing fear as her wide dark eyes focused on something hideous just beyond Pascal's beloved face. Pivoting, Pascal felt his mind go blank with horror, as he looked up into the glittering eyes and snarling grin of Nick Belmont.

Taking advantage of Pascal's joy at seeing Ellen once again, Nick had emerged from the shadows of approach his prey with the cunning of a stalking beast. And now he had them both exactly where he wanted them. 'It was almost too easy,' he told himself with satisfaction. Yet he knew he would enjoy every minute of what was to come.

"Glad you could make it," he said menacingly. "Ellen has something she wants to tell you. And then I have a message for you, too, just to make sure you don't forget."

Something in Nick's voice triggered a response in Pascal's heart, one which Nick had never expected. "And I have a message for you, too, Nick. Leave Ellen alone. She doesn't want anything more to do with you. She's in love with me. And I'm going to see to it that you never bother her again."

For several seconds Nick stared down at the smaller man, almost in disbelief, then he threw his head back, thundering out a mirthless laugh.

"That's a good one, coming from you," he snarled as he glared at Pascal once again. "As if there was anything you could do to stop me." He took one threatening step forward, but Pascal held his ground.

"Listen up, pal, and listen good. Remember what happened when I found you here last time, waiting for Ellen? If I ever catch you together, I won't just beat you again, I'll kill both of you. Got it?"

"No, Nick, I don't." Pascal's pale face hardened, as the love in his heart gave him the courage he needed. "I don't get it. But you better get this. Ellen and I are in love. We're going to be together and you aren't stopping us."

At the sound of Pascal's brave words, Nick's massive fists clenched tightly, and all traces of distorted humour vanished from his glowering face.

"You're not too smart, are you? Maybe I won't wait until next time. Maybe I'll just have to kill you now."

Pascal readied himself for the attack, and then watched in dawning horror as Nick halted and reached for the inner pocket of his jacket.

With a strangled sob, Ellen threw herself forward, grabbing Nick's arm. "Run, Pascal," she screamed breathlessly. "He has a gun. He'll kill you!"

Without pausing to think, Pascal hurled himself forward, shoving Ellen to one side, out of harm’s way, as he and Nick stood facing each other across the width of the bridge. Pascal's heart pounded as he stared at the loaded gun the madman pointed at his chest, aware of little else save the screams of uncontrollable terror being torn from Ellen's threat, until at last they too ceased their hopeless plea.

In the silence of the dark night, they heard the metallic click of the gun as Nick prepared the final stage in Pascal's execution, when all at once the rhythmic cadence of racing footsteps drew their attention. Frozen in their macabre tableau, only their eyes turned in the direction of the unexpected sound, as they saw two figures draw to a halt only a few yards away.

From just beyond the pale circle of lamplight, a low and commanding voice came to them, bringing hope to lighten two hearts and an instinctive fear to chill the other.

"Put the gun down, Nick. Now."

For a moment, Nick hesitated, swinging his arm slightly in Vincent and Catherine's direction and then back toward Pascal.

"I said put the gun down, Nick," Vincent repeated, allowing a slight growl to darken his voice.

Nick shook his head, regaining some of his swaggering bravado. "And why should I want to do that?" he sneered.

There was only an ominous silence from the hooded figure.

"Hey, I asked you a question," Nick snorted. "You better answer me!" As he spoke, he gestured towards the newcomers once again, and the gun in his hand was pointed in Catherine's direction.

It was a fatal mistake, yet Nick would not live long enough to realize it.

Releasing a low, powerful roar, Vincent surged forward. The sudden movement threw back his hood, and his beautiful face, contorted in anger, was revealed as he lunged into the circle of light. Nick screamed in terror and tried to raise the gun toward the figure who leaped toward him.

At the same instant Pascal raced between them, catching Nick off guard with one overwhelming punch to the man's sagging jaw. Off balance, Nick staggered backwards, smashing his head against the heavy iron lamp post and then falling back hard against the rough, concrete balustrade of the bridge. For just a moment, his massive body seemed to hover in mid-air, and then he was gone, plummeting helplessly into the cold, ebony water of the lake beneath them.

Stunned, the four stared in a mixture of horror and relief, before turning to one another, the fear and tension of the last several minutes etched upon their faces. Breaking the oppressive silence, Vincent strode to the railing and looked below to see Nick's lifeless body floating near the water's edge. Swiftly turning back to the others, he shook his head in silent, eloquent meaning.

"Is he dead? Is he really dead?" Ellen's desperate whisper voiced what they all needed to hear.

"Yes," Vincent replied. "There is no doubt."

"My God," Pascal whispered hoarsely. "I've killed him. I didn't mean to... I..."

Immediately, Ellen rushed into his arms, holding him and comforting him as best she could. "It's all right. It will be all right," she murmured over and over.

Glancing up to meet Vincent's worried, understanding gaze, Catherine, too, reached out to lay a gentle hand on Pascal's shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault, Pascal. It couldn't be helped."

"Catherine is right," Vincent added quietly. "If you had not intervened, he might have killed all of us. We have you to thank for our lives."

Grateful, yet still distraught, Pascal shook his head. "But to kill a man... and what will happen now? He will be found. I should go to the police."

"No," Catherine's voice was firm and strong. "Stop and think, Pascal. Nick is dead. There is nothing to be gained from your turning yourself in." She paused while her words reached beyond his panic. "We should leave this place now. His body will be found soon enough, and from the looks of things, the police will assume it was a mugging, or a drug deal gone bad. And there will be nothing to connect him to anyone Below."

She turned to look at Ellen. "Ellen, eventually the police will be sure to contact you, once they identify him and find out about your relationship with him. You will have to be very strong to carry this off, denying you know anything about what happened tonight. Can you do that?"

"Yes, I know I can," Ellen vowed before turning back to Pascal, whose weary gaze had never left her face. "And now come on," she pleaded. "We've got to get you home before someone comes."

"Yes, we must go," Vincent urged, drawing the hood of his cloak up once again and leading them away from the place of darkness and terror. "We must go back."

In silence, the four friends hurried through the park, making their way to the light and warmth of the underground sanctuary, each lost in their own thoughts of the night's horrors, yet joined by what they had shared. Swiftly, they entered the drainage tunnel and locked the metal gate behind them, shutting out the darkness of the night. Sensing that Pascal and Ellen needed to talk alone, Vincent paused and turned to them.

"Catherine and I will go ahead and tell Father and the others what has happened. You needn't worry, Ellen, for you will be welcomed by our community. They will understand."

"Yes, they will. In spite of what you've endured, you will find you have gained a chance for a better life." Catherine quickly echoed Vincent's reassuring words before they disappeared farther into the tunnels, leaving Pascal and Ellen alone.

For many moments they simply held each other, needing the tangible reassurance of warmth and safety and strength. At last Pascal turned, leaning back just enough to see that the fear and hurt had begun to fade from Ellen's dark eyes.

"It's all over now, Ellen. We're safe. Nothing can come between us ever again."

Drawing in a deep trembling sigh, she gazed back at him, her heart growing warm and calm once again with the understanding that he had begun to heal, that all would be well.

"Pascal, I love you so much! And I'm so sorry this had to happen! But it is over, it really is, and now we can be together... if you still want me too."

The smile that she loved brought a beautiful light to his face. "I'll always want you, Ellen," he promised. "I love you, and I want nothing more than to share my life with you... will you come and live with me, will you be my wife?"

The sound of her joyous answer was lost somewhere within a trembling sob and a passionate kiss - but it mattered not at all, for the power of faith and love would resonate forever within their hearts.

~ The End ~