“I dare you. ” Marjorie set her hands on her hips. “Whoever climbs fastest, wins. Unless it's you boys who are afraid. ”
Cormac bristled at once. “I'm not afraid. ” He stormed to the fireplace and knelt down to peer up the flue. The boys working as sweeps were small, most no older than eight. But her uncle Humphrey's chimney struck him as overlarge — wide enough to accommodate their bigger bodies. The hearthstones were charred from the years, but the grate was cold, still blanketed with ashes from the previous night's fire.
Not that it mattered. Cormac would climb the tightest of tunnels with a full blaze beneath his feet if it would prove his worth above Aidan's. His eyes darted back to Marjorie. Her full attention was on him, pinning him with an unreadable look. It made him feel like a conquering hero. “I fear nothing,” he repeated, standing tall.
Curling his lip, Aidan waved at the fireplace. “You climb it then, if you're so keen to. ” With a decisive nod, Cormac stepped onto the grate, his head and shoulders disappearing into the darkness.
“Cormac,” Marjorie gasped. “You're truly going to climb it?”
“I'm not climbing it,” Aidan said to nobody in particular.
Marjorie craned her neck to look back out the window. “Hurry now. We've not much time before the sweeps come to Uncle's house. ”
The inside of the chimney was cool. Staccato gusts of wind whistled in, hitting him with surprisingly fresh bursts of air. Cormac put his hands on the stones. The passage was narrower than it'd looked, and he tried not to think how high it went. Despite the air blowing in, he was unable to see any light shining in from the top.
“What's it like in there?” Marjorie's voice echoed loudly in the cramped space.
Cormac skidded his hands up along the stones, groping for seams that could be used as climbing holds. Soot clung thickly in the mortar and was unexpectedly gummy under his fingertips and nails. “It's sticky!” His fingers found a deep groove between stones. “Here goes,” he muttered, and jumped, pulling himself up hard.
His feet scrabbled wildly in the air. He heard an explosion of hysterical laughter and grunted, “Shut your trap, Aid!”
Cormac began to slip, and he brought his knees up hard to brace himself in the narrow passageway. A sharp ridge cut into his calf, and he hissed with the pain of it. But he was up off the ground now and spared a quick laugh at his success.
He worked silently for a time, his elbows and legs splayed out, slowly maneuvering higher, pushing from his feet and pulling with his hands.
The light from below dimmed, and the sound of breathing echoed up the chamber. “You still in there?” his brother called.
“Move it, stink breath. ” Cormac scuffed his toe along the stones, sending old mortar crumbling onto his twin below. “I can't see. ”
Aidan chuckled. “When the climbing boys stop their climbing, the master sweep lights a fire to get them going again. ”
Marjorie's voice carried up, hollow and distant. “You'll do no such thing!”
“Ow!” Aidan screeched. “Criminy, Marj, I was only joking. ”
“It's Marjorie, you beast. ”
“That's the way, Ree,” Cormac said. “Now, stop breathing my air,” he growled to his brother. “I think it's getting smaller up here
. ”
“You getting scared?” Aidan taunted.
“No, I'm not getting — oh!” Cormac's foot slipped, and his elbows scraped hard along the chimney walls as he began to slide down.
Marjorie shrieked.
Slamming his knees out, he braced himself along the passageway to stop his fall.
“That's enough, Cormac,” she cried. “You win! Now just come back down. ” He smiled in the darkness. “I best get a good prize for this, Ree. ” He flushed as he said it, wondering what exactly he'd meant by the words.
He redoubled his efforts, climbing up at a rapid clip, trying to ignore the way the flue narrowed the higher he went. Hands slide up, fingers hold tight, knees brace the wall… and ups-a-daisy. “I'm getting the way of it now.
Like a wee monkey I am. ” Laughing, he grew careless, and his shirtsleeve snagged on the sharp edge of a stone.
“Och, hell. ”
“Och, hell, what?” Marjorie sounded nervous.