The Tunnel Behind the Waterfall

by William Corlett

  ‘A horse and a hand and – what?’

  ‘Who will ever know?’ Stephen Tyler asked. ‘Someone, once, tried here to express what they had seen by drawing it. Think about it, William. The person who did this drawing – had never seen a drawing before. They were doing something entirely . . . utterly . . . . new. How often do we do something original; something new? That’s what you had to do, you Constant children. You had to think for yourselves. Usually we only think other people’s thoughts. Our teacher, or our parent, or our Magician gives us ideas . . . and we make them our own. But in this work, this alchemy, sometimes it is necessary to be . . . unique. Why?’

  He paused and the silence throbbed around them.

  ‘Why is it necessary?’ he repeated the question.

  ‘Because we are unique,’ William replied. ‘There’s no one quite like me. No one quite like Alice, or Mary . . . Or anyone else, come to that . . . Each person in the world is different . . .’

  The Magician nodded.

  ‘However many millions of people are born – there are no two who are entirely the same. An unlimited number of variations on a theme. It is our uniqueness that is the gold in us; it is our striving to be the same that is the dross. You could only know that by being here in this place. This sacred place. Now, together, we must save this land of ours. Because it is also unique – there is nowhere quite like it. People don’t find this cave by chance. The animals know it, the birds, the insects; the creatures of nature. They know it is here. And the person who drew these primitive pictures knew this place.’

  ‘But – is it really here?’ Alice asked. ‘Or are we dreaming this?’

  ‘Very good question,’ the Magician replied. ‘It is here – in reality – if you know where to look for it.’

  ‘I mean – could someone just . . . find it by mistake?’ Alice asked.

  ‘It might seem a mistake – but they wouldn’t find it, if it wasn’t right for them to do so.’

  ‘Does Morden know it’s here?’ Mary asked.

  ‘Better question!’ the Magician said, with a smile. ‘No – and if he did . . . say he followed you and came in here . . . it would be meaningless to him. It would be just a cave and these drawings would be merely scratches on the wall.’

  ‘Why?’ William asked.

  ‘Because he only sees what he expects to see and isn’t prepared to believe the unknown.’

  The old man turned and raised his lantern again, dimly illuminating the racing horse galloping across the wall of the cave. As he did so, the children heard the sound of pounding hooves and a distant whinny.

  ‘How can we stop Morden?’ William asked.

  ‘By not letting him matter,’ the old man said with a sigh. ‘It’s a hard discipline, but it is the only way. We give Morden too much attention. He thrives on that.’

  ‘But – that’s what you told us to do. To stop him – or rather Charles Crawden – from taking this place and destroying it. I mean, I thought that was what our task is.’

  ‘Yes,’ Stephen Tyler replied. ‘And I want it even more than you children. But, if we don’t get it – if my assistant wins and the whole of my creation comes tumbling to nothing – so be it. You have touched your uniqueness, that’s far more important.’

  ‘I don’t agree,’ William said. ‘I haven’t come this far to let him win. He’s destroyed Meg’s house . . .’

  ‘You want revenge, William?’ the Magician asked him, his voice ominously calm.

  ‘No, not revenge. Justice. You said we should act justly. Well, I want that. But I don’t want evil people to win all the time. If I act justly – then I want justice as well. For Meg’s sake; for Jack and Phoebe and Stephanie; for the wild creatures who live here. I don’t know,’ he shook his head, irritably. ‘I don’t want to fail, not now. I want to save Golden Valley’

  ‘Is this what you all want?’ the Magician asked.

  Mary and Alice nodded but couldn’t bring themselves to speak.

  ‘Then perhaps there is still hope.’ the Magician said, quietly. ‘But you must ask yourselves very seriously why you want this. If your reason is in any way selfish – then it could destroy you. Be very clear about this – act selfishly and you are lost – but act with a pure heart and you will save this valley . . .’

  ‘We’re doing it because we must!’ William exclaimed. ‘That’s how it is for us. Maybe in your time it isn’t so important. But it is today. Men like Charles Crawden are destroying our world. The rain forests are going; the whales and the dolphins are being killed; elephants are murdered for their ivory tusks; the earth is being poisoned; there’s a hole in the ozone layer. These are things you don’t know about, because you live in the past. But the reason for them all is greed – all our problems are brought about by greed. You’ve made me see that. Well, I can’t sit back and let it happen here. I’ve got to try to stop it. It may not be the task you set us – but it’s the task I’ve set myself.’

  ‘Go back to the lake,’ the Magician said. ‘Lutra will help you.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ Alice wailed. ‘Not Blackwater Sluice.’

  ‘Go along, all of you,’ the Magician told them. ‘You have made your choice. My prayers will be with you. Be on guard all the time. Act for the common good; never for yourselves. That is all that is required of you.’

  23

  Journey Through the Underworld

  LUTRA WAS WAITING for them. They saw his head appear above the surface of the water as they ran down a grassy bank on to the shingle shore.

  ‘Yous a nuisance,’ Lutra called. ‘I was having a nice sleeps. What you want?’

  William shrugged and squatted down, so that his head was almost on a level with the otter.

  ‘Don’t know,’ he said. ‘The Magician said you’d help us.’

  ‘So – what is it you wants?’

  ‘To save Goldenwater,’ Alice said, flopping down beside William and picking up a pebble.

  ‘Mmmh!’ the otter hummed, doubtfully. ‘Hows you going to do that?’

  ‘With your help!’ William said, with a grin. ‘We don’t exactly know how, Lutra. I thought if we found the Magician’s laboratory . . .’

  ‘Is that all yous want?’ the otter asked, sounding more cheerful. ‘That’s easy! Yous all coming?’

  ‘Oh!’ Mary exclaimed

  ‘What?’ William asked.

  ‘It’s happening,’ she whispered and, as she spoke, she dipped her head under the water and then resurfaced, shaking the moisture out of her whiskers. She saw William and Alice sitting on the shore and wondered where she was. Then she heard her brother whisper in her head:

  ‘Ooops! Here we go!’

  ‘Come on, Alice,’ Lutra called. ‘We’s got to take yous all.’

  ‘Don’t want to,’ Alice said, hanging back.

  ‘Come on,’ Lutra wheedled. ‘It won’t be so bad. Things is never so bad second time round.’

  Alice doubted his words but allowed herself to join the others. At once Lutra turned and, with a flick of his tail, he propelled himself towards the middle of the lake.

  The water was calm and glassy-clear. They passed through a shoal of tiny gleaming fish who scattered and fled as the otter swam amongst them.

  ‘Tiddlers!’ Lutra snorted. ‘Yous must come on a trout hunt with us one day. Trouts is our favourite. Do yous like trouts?’

  ‘Actually we do eat trout,’ Mary exclaimed, enthusiastically. It made a change to be travelling in an animal who ate the sort of food that she did. She decided that she was enjoying getting to know the otter. Then she remembered that Lutra’s trout would be raw and so she decided not to encourage him. But it was pleasant swimming through the soft water, with the light of the sun bouncing off the water around them. The cold scarcely penetrated the otter’s thick, waterproof fur and, although they were moving fast, there was very little exertion involved. ‘It’s a bit like being on a boat, really’ Mary thought and she felt herself relaxing into the experience.

  But th
en, when they reached the centre of the lake, Lutra’s voice changed to an urgent whisper.

  ‘Are you ready?’ he said.

  And Mary’s brief enjoyment came to an end as she heard Alice gasp and say:

  ‘Oh, Lutra! Do we have to?’

  ‘Yes,’ the otter replied. ‘It’s the only way.’

  ‘What?’ Mary whispered in their heads. ‘Where are we going now?’ and only then, as Lutra, with another flick of his tail, dived for the depths, did Alice and William remember that Mary hadn’t been through Blackwater Sluice before.

  ‘Please tell me what’s happening,’ she said, as the water surged past them and the light faded.

  ‘Don’t think!’ Lutra hissed. ‘I’s need to concentrate.’

  The pull of the current grew stronger. They could feel it dragging their otter-body along. The temperature was dropping and the cold was seeping into their veins. Suddenly, ahead of them, they dimly saw the rock wall of the lake. They were going too fast. Lutra thrust out his front legs and beat with his tail, trying to turn his body. The rock came closer and closer at a terrifying speed. They were going to be smashed against it. Something had gone wrong. Lutra couldn’t turn his body. Using every bit of his strength, he flicked and flicked again with his back legs and his tail.

  William concentrated on his legs. He tried to beat them in time to Lutra’s rhythm.

  ‘We’re going to crash,’ Alice screamed.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Mary cried out.

  ‘Blackwater Sluice!’ Lutra hissed. ‘That’s what’s happening!’ And then, when it was almost too late, the otter’s body turned and, grazing along the rough outcrop of submerged rock, they were pulled along on the current towards the black hole of the sluice and, surging forward on the steel water, they shot through the narrow opening and were flung, dazed and panting, on to the floor of the cave.

  Mary picked herself up. She felt terribly cold. For a moment she thought she was alone in the black dark. But then she heard Alice sniffing and William gasped.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ he exclaimed. William didn’t often swear. When he did he usually had a good reason for it.

  ‘Sorrys about that,’ Lutra said, cheerfully, his voice coming out of the dark somewhere close by them. ‘Misjudged the direction. Bit tricksy getting through the sluice. Don’t enjoys it much myself. And it’s an awful long way round to get back to the lake. Can’t go back up the sluice, the current’s too strong. Right, come on yous lot.’

  ‘But how will this take us to the Magician’s laboratory?’ William asked.

  ‘Waits and sees,’ Lutra hissed, cheerfully.

  The journey followed innumerable narrow passageways and dripping tunnels. Sometimes they were swimming in deep water, at other times they were crawling through gaps so narrow that they could feel the rough rock tearing at Lutra’s body.

  ‘What is this place?’ Mary asked.

  ‘The underworld,’ Lutra replied. ‘There’s always an underworld, yous know.’

  Later they came to a series of tunnels that were high enough for the children to walk upright in.

  ‘These is the mines,’ Lutra explained, trotting in front of them. ‘These is where men used to come and steal the rocks. Sometimes they stoles so much rock that the roof fell in. Once a man was trapped here. My Papa told me. He said his Papa helped the man to escape. I don’t know if it’s trues. Could be just another story.’

  They came to a place where they had to climb down a great cliff.

  ‘S’all right,’ Lutra said. ‘I’s not a good climber but there’s water at the bottom,’ and, as he spoke, they felt themselves falling through the darkness and then they landed in more black water.

  It seemed as though they were in some sort of river now, but of course it was too dark to see anything. However, the water was deep and there was a feeling of space around them.

  ‘There’s streams like this all over the underworld,’ Lutra told them. ‘They all ends up in the ocean. I’s been to the ocean. It was big. All the water in the world stretches from us here. We’re touching all over the world. And, yous listen to this bit. The water was here in before days and will be here in to come days. So this water stretches back into then and reaches forward into when. D’yous follow what I’m saying?’

  ‘Not quite,’ William had to admit.

  ‘There is no past and future, William,’ a familiar voice whispered in his head. ‘There is only now.’

  ‘Mr Tyler?’ William called out.

  ‘I heard him as well,’ Mary thought.

  ‘And me,’ Alice whispered.

  ‘If there’s only now,’ William thought. ‘Who says when now is?’

  ‘Quite!’ Lutra agreed. Then he said, aloud: ‘We’re nearly there.’

  ‘Where?’ William asked, surprised.

  ‘The Magician’s laboratory,’ the otter replied. ‘That’s where you wanted to go, wasn’t it? Up there then,’ he added and, as he spoke, the children saw light filtering down a round stone funnel above their heads.

  ‘It’s like a chimney,’ Alice observed, as she lifted her arm up out of the river water. ‘There’s a ladder up the side,’ she added.

  ‘You go first, Will,’ Mary said.

  William grabbed hold of the iron support that was fixed into the circular stone funnel. Alice was right. It was exactly like a chimney. Far up above he could see dim green light filtering down.

  ‘Where are we, Lutra?’ he asked.

  But there was no reply.

  ‘He’s gone, I think,’ Alice said, pulling herself up out of the water as she followed William up the iron ladder, with Mary close behind her.

  As they climbed steadily upwards the light at the top became brighter. They could see the opening. It was covered with green, leafy branches.

  ‘It’s as though we’re going up into a tree,’ William called.

  ‘Like going up to the tree house,’ Mary observed.

  ‘Like going up the steps up the chimney and going up the yew tree all at the same time,’ Alice said in a puzzled voice.

  ‘Hey!’ William gasped.

  What?’ Alice asked.

  ‘There’s an opening here,’ William called down from just above her. ‘There’s a way in,’ and, looking up, Alice saw William step sideways off the iron ladder and disappear into the wall of the funnel.

  24

  The Magician’s Laboratory

  BESIDE THE LADDER, set into the wall, was a square opening, just big enough for a person to pass through.

  Alice gripped the metal supports of the ladder with both her hands and reached across with her foot. Once she had a safe hold, it was easy to let go of the ladder and walk through the opening. As she did so, a spider’s web brushed her cheek.

  ‘William,’ she called in a whisper.

  ‘Who’s there?’ an unfamiliar voice called.

  ‘Here, Al,’ she heard William whisper and, looking in the direction of the sound, she saw a spider in the middle of the web.

  ‘Oh, no! Please!’ she thought. ‘Not a spider. I really hate spiders.’

  ‘Then that’s because you don’t know anything about us,’ the spider said in a thin voice. ‘We spiders are much maligned.’

  ‘Oh . . .!’ Alice groaned. Then she only just managed to climb up the web before a man pushed past her, coming from the dark interior of the room she had entered.

  ‘Who’s there?’ he called again. Reaching the iron ladder and holding the support rail as he leaned out, looking up the round funnel to the leaf covered opening at the top. ‘Will?’ the man called. ‘Will? Is it you?’

  Mary pressed herself against the wall of the funnel. The man’s feet were on a level with her hands. If he looked down he couldn’t fail to see her. But there was nowhere for her to hide. She remained motionless, gripping the iron rung of the ladder until it cut into her hands.

  The man hesitated for a moment longer then, turning, he hurried back through the dark opening. Mary was unsure what to do. She had seen A
lice disappear into the opening, following William. She had been on the point of reaching across and going in herself. But now she wasn’t at all sure what would be the best thing to do. Who was this man? – she wondered – and what was he doing there? And, more importantly, where had William and Alice gone to?

  ‘I’m here,’ a tiny voice whispered, and the spider, hanging on a thread of his own making appeared in front of her face.

  ‘Is it safe?’ Mary asked, as she climbed nimbly up the thread.

  ‘Safe enough,’ William whispered and, swivelling her eight eyes, Mary saw the room and the roof and the floor and the lamplight and William hanging motionless in the centre of his web, with Alice peeping out of a crevice in the stonework just beside him, all at the same time.

  Mary spun a strand of thread and jumped across the opening. Then, finding a good position, close to the ceiling of the room, she settled herself and turned to watch.

  The room they were in was like an underground cellar. The walls were made of stone and there was no window. The walls were lined with shelves and there was a big workbench in the centre. On the shelves and on the bench and littered over the stone floor were phials and bottles, glass containers of every shape and size, pottery jars. A fire glowed in a small hearth. Lamps were alight. There were books and papers and diagrams scattered in heaps all over the floor.

  A man, unfamiliar to any of them, was busily emptying the contents of the shelves and making a great pile on the floor between the fire and the table. He worked with frantic speed and seemed in a state of great agitation. The light in the room was so poor that they were unable to get a clear impression of him. He seemed tall and gaunt. He wore a dark-coloured jacket and tight, narrow trousers. He darted round the room, throwing objects on to the pile. There was the sound of breaking glass and splintering wood as he broke and smashed and scattered everything that came into his reach.

  Then he stopped, listening again, his head turned towards the opening in the wall.

  ‘Mr Lewis?’ a distant voice called. ‘Mr Lewis, are you there?’

  The man hurried back to the opening, passing so close to William that he was able to see large beads of sweat on his forehead.