Changing the subject, he pointed to a sigh rider standing behind the start line, a crow-face boy with a mop of feathery black hair over his eyes. Cecilia wondered how he could see anything. His skin was golden brown, but his wings were jet black. The crowd exploded in cheers again as he entered. Some folk climbed onto their chairs; a teenage hedgehog-face began screaming, flailing her hands in the air. “AUBREY, I LOVE YOUUUUUUU!” she screeched at the top of her lungs. The duck-face sitting behind tapped her on the shoulder, trying to avoid her prickly needles. “Please, be careful with those, will you? You’ll have my eye out otherwise!” The duck-face sat back and preened herself, then tended to a clutch of eggs she had wedged next to her.
“That guy there, starting at zero, that’s Jacques d’Or’s son, Aubrey. It’s his first professional sigh-ride. If he finishes at first, he’ll win today! There’s a lot of pressure on him, and his father really didn’t want him to enter for obvious reasons.”
“Like?” said Cecilia, probing.
“Think about it, ding-bat.”
“Excuse meeee!” exclaimed an offended bat-face sitting next to Luke.
“I beg your pardon. I’m sorry,” Luke said sheepishly.
“Yes, well, that’s rather offensive, don’t you think?” And with that, the bat-face got up and moved seats.
Luke looked rather embarrassed but he continued despite himself.
“If over time, Aubrey doubles at fifteenth like Jasper—or worse, sixteenth—he’ll be in the sewers the rest of his life, even if his dad is the leader of the Corvus Community.”
“No wonder he wasn’t pleased. Pretty bold move by Aubrey!” said Cecilia.
“You bet! This is the most heated tournament I have ever been to!”
A mole-face in front of them with a stack of papers and a feather quill pen interrupted them.
“Did someone say ‘bet’?” he asked.
“Bingo!” said Luke.
“No, sir, that’s Tuesdays in Market Square. Today now, I’m taking bets on the Ride or Sigh competition,” said the mole-face, drily sniffing the air.
Luke and Cecilia filled with giggles and tried not to laugh.
“OK then. We would like to place a bet. We would like to bet on Aubrey to finish first,” he said, handing over a pile of buttons he, Cecilia and Jasper had pooled together.
“Excellent,” said the mole-face.
“Hold on. Are you sure?” Cecilia said, resting her hand on his wrist a moment.
“Well, what are your instincts telling you?” asked Luke. “What do you feel?”
She stared up into the cloud and let it wash over her. It seemed to be telling her something but not with words; the sighs spoke to another part of her.
Luke nudged her. “Hellloooooo? Anyone in there?”
“For some reason—and I know it’s a gamble—but they’re telling me you’re right!” she said. “Bet on Aubrey to come in first.”
“That’s settled then,” said Luke, handing over one fistful of buttons and then another. He turned to Cecilia.
“That’s an awful lot, Luke!” she added.
“Well, let’s just say, I trust your instincts… and that’s also the tip that Augustus gave Jasper!” he said confidently.
“Brilliant odds, sir,” said the mole-face.
“See,” said Luke, taking the tickets and thanking him. The mole-face wiggled his nose and shuffled off. His trousers were far too long and dragged along in the dirt.
“I’m not sure how I feel about gambling. My granny always says to stay away from that sort of thing, that it can’t lead to much good.”
“Sure,” said Luke. “But your granary isn’t here, is she?”
“Granny! Granary is a type of bread!” corrected Cecilia.
“You’re funny,” said Luke, patting her on the head. “Technically this isn’t betting, it’s life-saving!”
Madame Midnight cawed and the stadium was quieted to a murmur. A pale form cut through the sighs that were still gathering; it parted the colourful mists like water and landed high on the stage next to Madame Midnight.
“Is that…?”
“Jacques d’Or? Yeah, that’s him,” said Luke.
13
Ride or Sigh
Jacques d’Or was astonishingly beautiful. Although he was quite far away, there was something captivating about him. Jacques d’Or picked up a sphere that looked like it was made of glass and held it up over his head. It was about the size of the gym ball Cecilia’s mum had at home. She had thought it was solid at first but as she watched she could see it morphing. Jacques d’Or let it go and as it floated over the crowd it grew larger and larger and larger until it looked like a giant bubble full of colourful sighs. Madame Midnight inhaled a deep breath and the audience followed suit.
“Breathe in,” whispered Luke, his warm breath tickling her ear, “and breathe out deeply with a sigh when everyone else does.”
The entire crowd sucked in all the air around the bowl and the bubble danced before them. Every last drop of air was sucked in until Cecilia’s lungs were bursting, then all together they released a sigh, bursting the bubble with a multitude of colours—a rainbow cloud—and the sigh riders were off! The sigh shot around the edges of the stadium. It was incredible to watch as the riders whizzed round on their bits of old carpet, rugs and mats of different shapes and sizes. The sigh riders tried to overtake and undertake each other. Luke pointed out to Cecilia when someone was trying to hold their place in a position as everyone, including the audience, got carried away on this magical wave of emotion. It was like a mixture of horse racing and surfing, and it reminded Cecilia of the tale of Aladdin—he had a magic carpet.
Soon a commentary began, led by a chicken-face and a monkey-face chattering and clucking away from a box at the centre of the Concave Stadium. Jasper adjusted himself in his seat, tilting his right ear towards the sound so he could get a better grasp of what was going on. It was thrilling! When the sigh died down Madame Midnight orchestrated the crowd to release a new sigh to keep the competition going. And the sighs changed colours depending on the mood of the crowd, which acted as one giant being. Every so often a competitor would be overcome with emotion and burst into fits of laughter or floods of tears, shooting out of the loop, then recover themselves and return to the race. It was a spectacle that allowed Cecilia to forget and become completely absorbed in the moment.
When the race ended Luke grabbed Cecilia and hugged her.
“We won!” he screeched. “Aubrey came in first!”
Jasper, who had been quite reserved for the whole event, danced and jumped about too. He was ecstatic.
“Ohhhhweeee!” he shouted. “Right, you two go and collect the winnings. I’ll wait here!”
Cecilia thoroughly enjoyed the competition—it seemed pretty simple to follow, but she did wonder if the repercussions were a bit harsh and she brought it up with Luke as they squeezed along the rows of dwellers celebrating.
“It’s not like they have to become sigh riders. Most of the sigh riders are professionals,” said Luke. “They choose to do it and train really hard. Though some dwellers just have an innate gift. Most of the riders are middle-aged and most of them don’t have families so they have less to lose. That’s why Aubrey’s case is such a big deal—he’s very young so his father doesn’t want him to ride right now. He could potentially spend most of his life shovelling everyone else’s poo if in the next couple of races he lands in sixteenth place. Plus, just to make sure the riders are committed, no one is not allowed to pull out of competing. That is, unless you’re dead, seriously ill or injured. And if it’s discovered that you’ve sawn off your leg to back out of the competition, like loud and proud Collin McCloud did, that’s life imprisonment in the Nest.”
Cecilia and Luke perused the crowd until they spotted the mole-face and walked towards him to collect their winnings.
“So once you’ve entered and been accepted, it’s a lifelong sentence whatever way you look at it?” sh
e summarised.
“Pretty much,” said Luke as the mole-face counted out twenty-six large buttons into his palm and let out the tiniest puff of a sigh—they seemed to be dying away now the competition was over.
“Then why would anyone ever want to compete? It could ruin their lives!”
The mole-face stared at them blankly. Cecilia stared back and realised moles have poor eyesight.
“Because, Cecilia, it could also change their lives for ever too! Imagine: the power, the influence… the fame!” Luke gesticulated dramatically. “After Jacques d’Or, Madame Midnight is one of the most powerful and revered folk in the entire tunnels. She has a colony of mice at her fingertips and a murder of crows at her feet and she came from nothing.”
He paused and watched a few wisps of a colourless sigh fade weakly. As he returned to his senses, he found himself looking into the big round eyes of a bear-face cub. She had a stack of papers roped onto her front, and Luke greeted her with glee. “Ella Bear!”
She looked up into his face; he seemed to tower over her. “Lukey Bear!” she teased back and he extended his hand for a high-five and she walloped him.
“How’s my favourite bear-face cub then?” Luke had softened upon the sight of such a sweet, endearing creature. Cecilia had to stop herself from saying awwwww! out loud.
“You wan’ a programme or what Lukey Bear? I’m a busy bear, you know!” she joked.
Cecilia and Luke laughed and Luke made to reach in his pocket to see what they could spare but Ella Bear tossed a programme at them and started walking away.
“This one’s on the house for your pig-face friend but you owe me next time, ’K? See ya, wouldn’t wanna’ be ya!” She waved and smiled as she padded off into the frenzied crowd.
Luke slipped the programme into Cecilia’s pocket. “Here’s a souvenir of your first race.” Cecilia rubbed her nose and watched the bear-face cub disappear.
“Thanks, Luke!” she said, taking it back out of her pocket and looking at the front cover of the programme with its embossed gold lettering and shiny picture of Jacques d’Or.
Her daydream was broken by the sound of a kindly animated voice behind them, and the two of them turned to see Jasper shuffling around and around in a circle trying to locate them.
“You two.” He had his silver ear horn jammed in his ear, “Yoooo-hooo, Loooo-uke, Ceceeeeee-lia?”
Cecilia and Luke were mortified. It was like when your mum or dad start calling your name down the aisles of the supermarket and you’ve just bumped into a bunch of kids from school and you’re the only one still in your uniform.
“Oh no! He’s got his ear horn out!” Luke clapped a hand over his eye and pulled his hoody further up over his head.
“Nooooo,” Cecilia moaned. “Why? I didn’t realise he used it in public!”
“There you are! I’ve been waiting for you, but luckily I’ve got this handy contraption with me so I could hear you clear as a bell gossiping away! I can’t believe we’ve won, you’re definitely going to turn heads with so much to spend at Mrs Hoots’!” He was so delighted it was really rather sweet.
“Thanks so much!” said Cecilia, hugging him. He patted her uncomfortably on the back.
“So now we have just about all we need, the rest is up to fate…” Jasper continued enthusiastically, “and I hate to say it but you’ll want to be on your way already.”
“Already? But we will miss the pom-pom parade!” said Luke.
“Yes, I’m afraid so but there will be other times, Luke,” Jasper replied.
Luke grumbled for a minute until—
“Luke, stop it, would you? A friend in need is a friend indeed. So, I happened to have a catch up with Madame Midnight briefly, and it seems that this whole thing with ol’ Koof is bigger than you or I had imagined. She was very worried when I told her the Corvus Community had tricked him and taken him away. So, I think getting Kuffi safely away from the Corvus Community is our primary objective.”
“Onto the next then, hey, Cecilia? Mrs Hoots’ Haberdashery, here we come,” said Luke.
“That’s the spirit,” said Jasper, patting him hard on the back then he pulling him into an embrace, which Luke did not return.
“Look after one another,” said Jasper. It was clear how special Luke was to him.
“Knock it off, Jasper,” said Luke.
“Of course we will, won’t we, Luke? That’s what friends do.”
Luke looked a bit surprised but she could tell he was trying to hold back a smile. Hester did it all the time. You can tell because a smile doesn’t just happen in a person’s mouth and cheeks, it really happens in their eyes.
14
This Little Light of Mine
Cecilia and Luke made their way away from the revelry, leaving the pomp of the Ride or Sigh competition and the pom-pom parade behind them. As they did so a giant bright orb of light came into view.
“What is it, Luke?”
“That is Polaris. The great light,” he said.
“It looks like a light bulb, but a really, really big one,” Cecilia said, shielding her eyes.
Polaris shone before them like a lonely moon. It was about the size and shape of a hot-air balloon. It had tiny markings etched into it and Cecilia got the feeling it was very old. It looked familiar.
“What sort of energy does Polaris run on?”
“It’s connected to the main generator. Sometimes it gets turned off for a bit, you know, to give the generator a rest, to repair faults in the lines. The great thing is the dwellers get a rest too. Everything shuts down for a little while.”
Cecilia imagined it was a bit like a bank holiday.
“Why do they need to turn the generator off? Does it overheat or something?”
“Guess it’s something like that. Among the dwellers the generator is known as Mr Sparks. Word has it that the generator isn’t a generator at all, that it’s a… living thing that lights up the entire network of tunnels!”
“That would be a tough job,” said Cecilia.
They stood looking at the big light bulb that lit the gaping hollow they were standing in. The air was dry and stuffy, unlike the coolness of the Concave Stadium on the lime line. She imagined the stories of the Arabian Nights that she had read with her granny and grandpa and felt for a moment that she was in one of those tales. All around the hollow where they stood the small arch-shaped windows reminded her of beehives. The walls in this part of the tunnels were sandy and dry and looked as though the grains might come off if you rubbed them. Cecilia pondered the sandy floor and thought of the sea. Then, just like that, out of nowhere Cecilia whispered a kind of confession. “I’m really lost, Luke. Like, really lost.”
“Maybe you are, Cecilia. I know you think you belong somewhere else but you don’t—because if you think about it, you will always be in the right place if you just let yourself be where you are now. You are your home, that’s the way I see it. But don’t worry. You’ll find your way, Cecilia. Promise.”
Luke held out his hairy pinky finger and Cecilia held out hers and they shook them just the way she would with her friends back home.
“So chin up, girl. It could be worse. After all, we are off to get all snazzed up at Mrs Hoots’ and just wait until you meet her!” Luke patted Cecilia on the shoulder. He could see she was sad but he could only offer his words as a comfort the way an older brother might.
Cecilia’s gaze fell upon people basking under the great light bulb of Polaris hanging over the dwellers below. It was much like the scene you might see on a sunny day in a park above ground. Except there were no trees or grass, no ponds or… Actually, it’s nothing like home, she thought.
“It feels warm,” said Cecilia.
“That’s exactly what it’s doing, dude—keeping us warm and sharing its light. We should come back here when we’ve finished our mission. And just, well, hang out,” Luke said softly.
“Deal,” agreed Cecilia.
She followed him down a slope and picke
d up on a musty smell and dampness in the air. When they got to the bottom Cecilia realised that what she had perceived as being like a park was actually more like a beach. It was warm standing in the faint light of Polaris and the soil was quite granular, a brown sandy substance. At first there was no sea to speak of, but as they kept walking Cecilia could hear water and see it glistening in the distance.
“Is that a…”
“Lake? Yeah, people say it’s drying up and they’re getting in a real flap about it. Jacques d’Or insists that everyone attend a regular purging where we all have to cry on demand.”
“Oh, that’s what you were talking about earlier when you and Jasper stopped me crying.”
“Yeah, no one cries because they feel like it any more. It’s a waste of tears.”
“It’s beautiful,” said Cecilia. She felt sad looking into the glittering water. It looked as though it were made of microscopic stars.
“It might be nice to look at but it causes a lot of pain. To be honest, I hate it. It’s the worst. So embarrassing. Of course, the Corvus Community don’t have to cry on demand; they just stand around bullying everyone else and making us feel even worse than we already do. I’ve managed to avoid a few times now though.”
“It doesn’t sound like much fun. Why can’t the Corvus Community just let people cry when they want to? Anyway, surely there must be another way to fill the lake?” said Cecilia.
“Jacques d’Or and the Corvus Community believe the best way is to make people really sad, so they’ll cry more often. It’s beyond me, really. I hate it and sometimes it just makes me angry, then I can’t cry at all. But I’m sure if there were an easier way, we’d know about it,” he said solemnly.
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