"Nightside."

I put the phone back and looked expectantly at the wall. Joanna looked at me, mystified. And then the dull grey wall split in two, from top to bottom, both sides grinding apart in a steady shuddering movement, to form a long narrow tunnel. The bare walls of the tunnel were bloodred, like an opened wound, and the sourceless light was dim and smoky. It smelled of ancient corrupt perfumes and crushed flowers. A murmur of many voices came from within the tunnel, rising and falling. Snatches of music faded in and

out, like so many competing radio signals. Somewhere a cloister bell was ringing, a lost and lonely, doleful sound.

"You expect me to go into that?" said Joanna, finding her voice at last. "It looks like the road to Hell!"

"Close," I said calmly. "It's the way to the Night-side. Trust me; this part of the journey is quite safe."

"It feels bad," Joanna said quietly, staring fascinated into the tunnel, like a bird at a snake. "It feels ... unnatural."

"Oh, it's all of that. But it's the best way to get to your daughter. If you can't handle this, turn back now. It's only going to get worse."

Her head came up, and her mouth firmed. "You lead the way."

"Of course."

I stepped forward into the tunnel, and Joanna was right there behind me. And so we left the everyday world behind.

We emerged from the connecting tunnel onto a station platform that at first glance was no different than what you'd expect. Joanna took a deep breath of relief. I didn't say anything. It was better for her to notice things for herself. The wall closed silently behind us as I led Joanna down the platform. It was five years since I'd last been here, but nothing had really changed. The cream-tiled walls were spattered here and there with old dried bloodstains, deep gouges