Authors: Neil Gaiman
Neverwhere (27 page)
“Keep it,” said Richard.
She unfolded the money, then pushed it up her sleeve. “Whatchyouwant?” she asked Richard, suspiciously.
“Nothing,” said Richard. “I really don’t want anything. Nothing at all.” And then he realized how true that was; and how dreadful a thing it had become. “Have you ever got everything you ever wanted? And then realized it wasn’t what you wanted at all?”
“Can’t say that I have,” she said, picking the sleep from the corner of her eyes.
“I thought I wanted this,” said Richard. “I thought I wanted a nice, normal life. I mean, maybe I am crazy. I mean, maybe. But if this is all there is, then I don’t want to be sane. You know?” She shook her head. He reached into his inside pocket. “You see this?” he said. He held up the knife. “Hunter gave this to me as she died,” he told her.
“Don’t hurt me,” said the old lady. “I ain’t done nuffing.”
He heard a strange intensity in his own voice. “I wiped her blood from the blade. A hunter looks after her weapons. The earl knighted me with it. He gave me the freedom of the Underside.”
“I don’t know anyfing about that,” she said. “Please. Put it away. That’s a good lad.”
Richard hefted the knife. Then he lunged toward the brick wall, next to the doorway in which the woman had been sleeping. He slashed three times, once horizontally, twice vertically. “What you doin’?” asked the woman, warily.
“Making a door,” he told her.
She sniffed. “You ought to put that thing away. If the police see you they’ll run you in for offensive weapons.”
Richard looked at the outline of a doorway he had scratched on the wall. He put his knife back into his pocket, and he began to hammer on the wall with his fists. “Hey! Is there anyone there? Can you hear me? It’s me—Richard. Door? Someone?” He hurt his hands, but he kept banging and flailing at the brickwork.
And then the madness left him, and he stopped.
“Sorry,” he said to the old lady.
She did not answer. She had either gone back to sleep or, more probably, pretended to go back to sleep. Elderly snores, real or feigned, came from the doorway. Richard sat down on the pavement, and wondered how someone could make such a mess of their life as he had made of his. Then he looked back at the doorway he had scratched on the wall.
There was a door-shaped hole in the wall, where he had scratched his outline. There was a man standing in the doorway, with his arms folded theatrically. He stood there until he was certain that Richard had seen him. And then he yawned hugely, covering his mouth with a dark hand.
The marquis de Carabas raised an eyebrow. “Well?” he said, irritably. “Are you coming?”
Richard stared at him for a heartbeat.
Then Richard nodded, without trusting himself to speak, and stood up. And they walked away together through the hole in the wall, back into the darkness, leaving nothing behind them; not even the doorway.
M
y thanks to all the readers of this book in its various drafts and versions for their input, suggestions, and feedback—particularly to Steve Brust, Martha Soukup, Dave Langford, Gene Wolfe, Cindy Wall, Amy Horsting, Lorraine Garland, and Kelli Bickman; to Doug Young and Sheila Ableman at BBC Books for their help and support, and to Jennifer Hershey and Lou Aronica at Avon Books. I would also like to thank all the people who came to my rescue whenever chunks of this novel devolved to their component electrons, and Norton Utilities.
—Neil Gaiman
Neil Gaiman
is the critically acclaimed and award-winning author of the novels
Neverwhere
,
Stardust
, the Sandman series of graphic novels, and
Smoke and Mirrors
, a collection of short fiction. He is coauthor of the novel
Good Omens
with Terry Pratchett. Among his many awards are the World Fantasy Award and the Bram Stoker Award. Originally from England, Gaiman now lives in the United States.
Visit his website at www.neilgaiman.com.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
Cover design by Laura Blost
Cover photographs © 2003: Big Ben
photograph by Kei Uesugi/Photonica;
angel photograph by Kamil Vojnar
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
NEVERWHERE
. Copyright © 1996, 1997 by Neil Gaiman. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition © AUGUST 2008 ISBN:9780061793059
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