Neverwhere

He raises his hand (but it isn’t
his hand) and he throws the spear at the creature.
He sees its eyes, wet and vicious and gloating, as they float toward him, all in a fraction of a second that becomes a tiny forever. And then it is upon him . . .
The water was cold, and it hit Richard’s face like a slap. His eyes jerked open, and he caught his breath. Hunter was looking down at him. She was holding a large wooden bucket. It was empty. He reached up one hand. His hair was soaked, and his face was wet. He wiped the water from his eyes and shivered with cold.
«You didn’t have to do that,» said Richard. His mouth tasted like several small animals had been using it as a rest room. He tried to stand, and then he sat down again, suddenly. «Ooh,» he explained. «How’s your head?» asked Hunter, professionally.
«It’s been better,» said Richard.
Hunter picked up another wooden bucket, this one filled with water, and hauled it across the stable floor. «I don’t know what you drank,» she said. «But it must have been potent.» Hunter dipped her hand into the bucket and flicked it at Door’s face, spraying her with water. Door’s eyes flickered.
«No wonder Atlantis sank,» muttered Richard. «If they all felt like this in the morning it was probably a relief. Where are we?»
Hunter flicked another handful of water at Door’s face. «In the stables of a friend,» she said. Richard looked around. The place did look a little like a stable. He wondered if it were for horses—and if so, what kind of horses would live beneath the ground? There was a device painted on the wall: the letter S (or was it a snake? Richard could not tell) circled by seven stars.
Door reached a tentative hand up to her head and touched it, experimentally, as if she were unsure just what she might find. «Ooh,» she said, in a near-whisper. «Temple and Arch. Am I dead?»
«No,» said Hunter.
«Pity.»
Hunter helped her to a standing position. «Well,» said Door, sleepily, «he did warn us it was strong.» And then Door woke up completely, very hard, very fast. She grabbed Richard’s shoulder, pointed to the device on the wall, the snaky S with the stars surrounding it. She gasped. «Serpentine,» she said to Richard, to Hunter. «That’s Serpentine’s crest. Richard, get up! We have to run—before she finds out we’re here . . . »
«And do you think,» asked a dry voice from the doorway, «that you could enter Serpentine’s house without Serpentine knowing, child?»
Door pushed herself back against the wood of the stable wall. She was trembling. Richard realized, through the pounding in his head, that he had never seen Door so actually and obviously scared before. Serpentine stood in the doorway. She was wearing a white leather corset and high white leather boots, and the remains of what looked like it had once, long ago, been a silk-and-lace confection of a white wedding dress, now shredded and dirt-stained and torn. She towered above them all: her shock of graying hair brushed the door lintel. Her eyes were sharp, and her mouth was a cruel slash in an imperious face. She looked at Door as if she took terror as her due; as if she had become so used to fear that she now expected it, even liked it.
«Calm yourself,» said Hunter.
«But she’s Serpentine,» wailed Door. «Of the Seven Sisters.»
Serpentine inclined her head, cordially. Then she stepped out of the doorway and walked toward them. Behind her was a thin woman with a severe face and long dark hair, wearing a black dress pinched wasp-thin at the waist. The woman said nothing. Serpentine walked over to Hunter. «Hunter worked for me long ago,» said Serpentine. She reached out a white finger and gently stroked Hunter’s brown cheek with it, a gesture of affection and possession. And then, «You’ve kept your looks better than I, Hunter.» Hunter looked down. «Her friends are my friends, child,» said Serpentine. «You are Door?»
«Yes,» said Door, dry-mouthed.
Serpentine turned on Richard. «And what are you?» she asked, unimpressed.
«Richard,» said Richard.
«I am Serpentine,» she told him, graciously.
«So I gathered,» said Richard.
«There is food waiting for all of you,» said Serpentine, «should you wish to break your fast.»
«Oh God no,» whimpered Richard politely. Door said nothing. She was still backed against the wall, still trembling gently, like a leaf in an autumn breeze. The fact that Hunter had clearly brought