The Black Room by Gillian Cross

so quickly that she had to jump backward to avoid them.
    â€œBe careful!” she said. “You nearly squashed my toes.”
    She didn’t speak sharply, but Bando was horrified. “Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to hurt you, Lorn! I’m very, very sorry. Are you all right?”
    He was still apologizing when Shang shouted from the ramp, with the next load of stones. Lorn sent Bando straight off to fetch them, to get him thinking about something else.
    It was only when he’d gone that she realized there was a space between the two stones he’d dropped.
    Quite a big space. Big enough for me to crawl through....
    The thought was there before she could stop it, shocking and enticing. She tried to blot it out, but she was too late. The idea had formed in her mind. If she left the stones where they were, she could make a secret passage through the wall.
    It wouldn’t be right, of course. It would mean deceiving the others. She couldn’t possibly do it.
    But if she did, no one would ever know. Bando would put the rest of the stones exactly where she told him, without asking questions. And by the time the others came down to look at the wall, the opening could be hidden behind a loose stone. Everyone would feel safe—and she would be free to explore the tunnels whenever she wanted to.
    But she couldn’t do it. Of course she couldn’t....
    Â 
    SHE REALLY DIDN’T MEAN TO MAKE A SECRET PASSAGE. But somehow she found herself leaving that tempting space exactly as it was. Every time Bando brought more stones, she guided him toward the other end of the wall—until it was almost as tall as she was, and she knew that she would have to level it off soon.
    And then Bando picked another stone off the ramp—and called out gleefully, “This one’s huge!”
    His voice echoed off the stone, and it threw a long, dark shadow behind him as he hoisted it onto his shoulder. Lorn felt the shape of that stone inside her head, as though she’d already touched it. It was wide and flat and very long.
    Long enough to bridge the gap between the other two stones.
    Quickly and quietly, she moved along the wall, back to the low end. “Bring it this way,” she called back. “Over here.”
    Bando blundered through the darkness, breathing heavily under the weight of the stone. When he reached her, Lorn slid her fingers around his huge hands and guided them into the right position.
    â€œPut it here. That’s right. On top of these two.”
    Bando hesitated. “It feels as though there’s a gap,” he said doubtfully.
    â€œDon’t worry about that.” Lorn loosened his fingers so that the stone dropped into place. “It’s not very big. We can fill it up with small stuff later on.”
    That was all it took. He went for the next load of stones without asking any more questions, and Lorn knew that he would forget all about it in a couple of minutes.
    As soon as he’d gone, she knelt down and slid her hands into the space between the stones. Her fingers spread out to fit it, instinctively, as if they knew the shape. Yes, she thought. That’s how it should be‘. It was exactly the right width. All she needed to do was scrape down a little way into the earth, to make it deeper. She worked at the soil between the stones, her hands moving confidently as she scooped it out.
    By the time Bando came back with the next lot of stones, she had finished. She stood up and talked him across the storeroom, not thinking about what she’d just been doing. Her mind moved on, planning how to use the next lot of stones—and the next and the next and the next—to make a strong, impenetrable wall. A barrier that nothing could cross.
    Except the person who knew about the secret passage winding through it, like the hidden strand of hair in a twelve-strand braid. The strand that was almost invisible, unless your fingers knew how to find it in the