The Tunnels Below

by Nadine Wild-Palmer

  There was an outbreak of chatter among the audience.

  “Please, please, calm your beaks.” Silence fell once again. “As a result we have decided we need to bring morale down to an all-time low in order that the output of tears is higher and the lake fuller, and thus, the light of the tunnels generated by Mr Sparks brighter. To do this we have devised a plan to put an end to the Ride or Sigh competition, to shut down all luxuries and to permit only what is necessary to sustain life among the dwellers. In the meantime, to enhance the wave of sorrow we are going to take hostage key figures of the community. You know the types I am talking about. They are the do-gooders, the respected figures, the creatives, the poets and the sigh riders, the folk who…”

  Violet paused dramatically, ensuring she was in complete command of the crowd.

  “…bring the dwellers hope!” she finished with disdain.

  Applause and a chorus of caws broke out, shaking the dome above their head. Black shadows jumped into the air, swooping all around, screeching.

  “Of course, we will look after our own, and committed Corvus Community members will receive ample opportunity to prove their worth and be rewarded for it. Just as these next two have.” Violet flicked her head in a robotic fashion and Julius and Marvin stepped forward into the spotlight. Cecilia bubbled with rage as Violet began commending them on their “good work” and retold the story of how they had captured Kuffi. Enraged, Cecilia fought the urge to boo and hiss. The situation forced her to listen to what Violet had to say.

  “Julius and Marvin found a certain somebody’s ID papers were due for renewal. Using this knowledge they closed the ID Office early because they feared there might be some sort of gas leak.” Violet gasped for effect. Cecilia could hardly bear to listen to the lies. “The cunning Corvus,” Violet continued, “then sought out the offending party and rechecked the papers. As the office was now closed that dweller could no longer renew their ID papers before they went out of date, and Julius and Marvin were forced to bring the offender in and hold him at the Nest!”

  Violet stalked the stage, then swept back into the spotlight.

  “This is the kind of initiative we expect from you, the Corvus Community! What a cunning plan! Now let’s employ this as a method to control. We decide who stays and who goes, and all the while we are still keeping the peace and protecting the dwellers. How often do dwellers really check their papers? We have cleverly made copies of invalid documents to be switched with the originals on point of contact with these ‘respected’ types for the very purpose of removing them from our society altogether in the coming months. Because without these ‘role models’ we can bring morale right down to an all-time low. Let’s extinguish hope, for without hope there is only grief, and the greater the grief… The greater the relief… MORE FEARS FOR TEARS!”

  Violet screamed and to Cecilia’s and Luke’s terror the crowd roared the slogan back over and over so they too were compelled to do so. Even if they didn’t agree with it, they did not want to stand out in this crowd. Cecilia felt incredibly sad. She tried not to show it, but it was at that point that she knew their plan would work to make the dwellers sad too.

  “Thank you, Violet,” Jacques d’Or said, hopping in and tapping her on the shoulder to reclaim his spot centre stage.

  “More fears for tears,” he said plainly.

  The crowd went wild. Jacques d’Or smiled, beaming with pride, and stood there soaking up the atmosphere.

  “The unhappier our society is the more the dwellers will cry. Nothing grows in the dark except the Corvus Community. We will make history here today, remember that! We are the shadows and it is the shadows that control the light! Let’s give you a good example of the type of dwellers we will be looking to remove. Bring them on, guys!”

  At this point Kuffi and Madame Midnight were escorted onto the stage. Luke visibly clenched his jaw and his nostrils flared; tears edged Cecilia’s eyes, and she pulled a fake smile to try to mask her heartbreak.

  “Welcome the first of our ‘missing’ dwellers,” said Jacques d’Or. There were a few gasps of surprise and delight dotted about the audience. “We will hold them in the Nest for the next few weeks and when they are at their weakest, lowest point, we will send them to the doldrums where we’ll let the gas explosions deal with them—or worse still, they’ll wander off into the Black of Beyond… FOR EVER! The likelihood of their survival is next to none. During which time we will explain to the rest of the dwellers that the dark is encroaching and that it has swallowed them up and will eventually consume us all if they don’t commit to more weekly lamentations. This will keep Mr Sparks in good running condition and help to generate more power that we can more easily control. Every time the dwellers begin to cheer up we will bring them right back down by simply picking off another unsuspecting ‘role model’. Meanwhile, we can rest on our perches and continue our surveillance from the darkness—keeping the order!”

  Cries and flapping broke out.

  Cecilia saw Luke’s lips mouthing something; Kuffi was looking at him from the stage. The cables wrapped around Kuffi and Madame Midnight were pulled and they were jolted into walking off the stage.

  As she was torn away, Madame Midnight called out in fury, “My murder will come for you, Jacques.” She spat on the ground after she said it. “You’ll see, my murder will come for you!” Julius grabbed her by the beak and they were gone.

  The crowd was roaring and Jacques d’Or stood with his wings raised, soaking it all up. Cecilia thought he looked a bit like a famous pop star and shuddered as she remembered that he definitely was not. Pop stars sung of love and happiness. Jacques d’Or’s song was one of fear and sadness but Cecilia knew that of all things, she must not lose hope.

  19

  Lady-Bird, Lady-Bird

  At the end of the meeting the animated crowd filtered out chattering among themselves, apart from a few stragglers who hung about trying to get autographs. It seemed that everyone was so absorbed in their chats that they hardly noticed Cecilia and Luke standing in the middle of it all.

  Cecilia saw a flash of glittery ring pulls pass by the bar and grabbed Luke by the hand.

  “Come on, I’ve just seen the Lady we came here for!”

  “Well, well, well! What do we have here?” A croaky voice attached to a long white-feathered neck dropped down to eye level, blocking their way, a black bead of an eye surveying them.

  “Two little rebels, dressed up to the nines, it seems. The name is Blanche and I’m the proprietor of this place. What business have you here?”

  Blanche had a somewhat spicy personality and Cecilia could feel the heat of interrogation prickling her skin. Cecilia unzipped her backpack and rummaged around before whipping out the notepad and the newspapers that Jasper had given them.

  “Such a pleasure to meet you. We are trainee reporters, Miss Blanche, here to interview Lady-Bird, if we may?” she said with conviction.

  “Oh, I see, and who sent you?” Blanche said suspiciously, flicking her head sideways.

  “We are from the Fly, ma’am,” Luke said in lightning-flash response.

  “Well, why didn’t you say so?” Blanche had no idea who they were but her pride wouldn’t let her show it. “Follow the bar round to the entrance hall, cut diagonally across from it, and it’s the mirrored door on the left.”

  The two made to leave right away but that was premature; Blanche’s voice stopped them in their tracks again.

  “Just wait one second. I don’t recognise…” She teetered on the edge of finishing her sentence and Cecilia’s blood ran cold. “You. Come here,” she said, beckoning Cecilia with a menace dancing around her eyes. “I don’t recognise that design.”

  Cecilia looked down at herself.

  “That’s a very splendid dress. Where did you get it from?” Blanche enquired.

  “Mrs Hoots’ Haberdashery,” Cecilia stuttered. She was trembling so much she held her hands tightly in front of her to stop it from showing. Blanche reached ou
t her own hand and ran it over the lacework.

  “Yes. It’s quite lovely. I should’ve known. OK, now scoot,” she huffed. “I have business to attend to.” And she turned on her heels, gliding off through the last remaining dwellers.

  Luke looked at Cecilia and almost laughed, but he didn’t make a sound, just wiped his brow, and they scuttled off around the bar.

  At the back of the entrance hall was a small embellished mirror door. Perhaps it had once been an actual functioning mirror, but years of grubby hands pushing it open had left it looking old and spotted. Cecilia winced as a memory of her mum flashed before her, like a bolt of lightning, and she felt hot and frustrated. Mum would have called it “vintage”, she thought and in this case she would probably have been right. Luke tried the door by gently pushing on it and it opened. They were both surprised that it was unlocked. They hesitated a moment but some shouting behind the bar made them jolt into action and they slipped through to the other side.

  The entire room was made of mirrors of all different shapes and sizes and of varying degrees of reflectiveness. As they walked into the room, they saw a multitude of images of Lady-Bird and her voice rang out tunefully, but they could not tell which one, if any, was actually her.

  “Can I help you,” she asked. “Are you lost?”

  “No,” said Cecilia. “You are just the Lady we are looking for.”

  “What do you want?”

  “We are here to interview you, Miss Lady-Bird,” said Luke.

  “Oh, you’re from the Fly, then?” said Lady-Bird. “I’ve been expecting you—although you’re not who I was expecting to interview me. Give me a moment and I’ll be right with you.”

  “You know they say, never meet your heroes, Luke, so prepare to be disappointed,” whispered Cecilia.

  Luke frowned and made a shushing noise then turned to Cecilia. “How do I look?”

  “Smashing,” she replied. “And me?”

  “Fine,” he said, pulling a feather out of her hair, completely unaware that he was doing so. He held the feather up to the light and blew it away softly. Cecilia broke his reverie.

  “I hope that the Fly haven’t sent any other journalists to interview Lady-Bird today. Gee whiz, I wish she’d hurry up!”

  “Yeah, well, I bet the real journalists wouldn’t be telling anyone the truth about what was actually said in that speech or what Jacques d’Or is actually planning to do.”

  “Technically nor will we, Luke.”

  “Oh yeah,” Luke said, scratching his chin.

  “Here she comes,” hissed Cecilia, smoothing down the skirt of her dress.

  Lady-Bird moved slowly as though she considered every gesture seemingly part of some larger dance. Her feathers were exquisite, softly echoing the tones of fallen leaves in autumn, and her poise unmatched by anyone Cecilia had met during her time with the dwellers. Luke was speechless in her presence.

  “I’ve ordered you some tonic,” she said. “It’ll be along in a minute. It’s the best, of course!”

  “I bet!” said Luke awkwardly. Cecilia nudged him.

  “So what would you like to know?” said Lady-Bird. Her voice was like a deep velvet blanket edged with the tinkle of diamonds knocking against one another.

  “Well, actually,” said Cecilia, “we wanted to do something a bit different to what you might be used to.”

  “And what might that be?” asked Lady-Bird.

  “We want to talk about the truth,” said Cecilia.

  “Everyone always wants the truth,” said Lady-Bird, repositioning herself.

  “Well, actually it’s us who want to come clean but we don’t want to alarm you. We believe we have a common interest and that you might be able to help us save our friend.”

  Lady-Bird sat very still. It was extremely hard for Luke or Cecilia to gather what she might be thinking from the expression on her face or her body language.

  “I’m listening,” she said finally.

  “Some of the things that Jacques d’Or said about making people feel sad all the time, and the way he wants to do it, aren’t right,” said Luke, taking over.

  “Cecilia and I have been trying to come up with a plan to help Kuffi get freed but after tonight it looks like we’d be heading straight for the Nest ourselves if we were to speak out. So we need your help more than ever.”

  “Oh now, look here. Jacques d’Or is not the kind of magpie-face you want to interfere with. It’s not a good idea to mess with the man in charge, trust me; he will only bring you sorrow,” said Lady-Bird, hanging her head slightly.

  Cecilia leant in and said softly, “It’s OK to be sad sometimes and because you feel it, but it’s not right for someone to make you sad all the time and for the Corvus Community to enjoy that sadness and benefit from it.”

  “You don’t understand,” said Lady-Bird, getting up. “We need to keep Mr Sparks going. Without him, there will be nothing left.”

  “But what about your friends, Kuffi and Madame Midnight? He’s going to put them in the Nest and then dispose of them for ever. If we let them do this now, what will there be left to hope for? They’ll keep on until there’s nothing left. And who will be there to defend you when everyone else is gone?” Luke’s words were heavy with honesty.

  Lady-Bird sat back down. “You’re just kids,” she said, shaking her head. “You know you shouldn’t go poking your beaks into matters that don’t concern you. Someone might get hurt—or worse, killed!”

  “But that’s just it. Before it was just Cecilia and me that it concerned—we just wanted to rescue Kuffi—but after tonight’s revelations, we’ve realised it’s a matter that concerns all the dwellers. We are going to be slaves to Jacques d’Or’s commands and you’re right, someone is going to be killed starting with: Kuffi and Madame Midnight,” Luke said.

  “But what can I possibly do?”

  “You’re the only one with access to the Nest,” said Cecilia, “and the only one close enough to Jacques d’Or to be trusted.”

  “Impossible. Even after evening song it’s so bright in there someone is bound to see me.”

  Cecilia looked at Luke and Luke looked at Cecilia, and then they both looked at Lady-Bird.

  “You have got to be kidding,” she said incredulously.

  “Will you help us or not?” asked Cecilia.

  Lady-Bird threw back her wings and clapped her hands. A llama-face lady entered the room. “Lady Llama, bring me a change of clothes and make them inconspicuous. I have some business to attend to.”

  20

  Twists and Turns

  They left El Porto Fino and entered the cool, damp air of the tunnels. Cecilia and Luke waited for Lady-Bird as she waved goodbye to the horse-faced stallion at the door. “See you tomorrow, Salvatore.” He nodded goodbye and Lady-Bird joined their company.

  “Lady-Bird,” said Cecilia. “I hope you don’t mind me asking and maybe you don’t know… but what is Mr Sparks? Is it a real living thing or just a big electricity generator?”

  Lady-Bird stood before them, wrapping a black and white polka-dot scarf around her head and tying it in a bow under her beak as she spoke, “You know that buzzing you hear?” Luke nodded. “The long, constant hum that you can hear if you stop, pay attention and just listen?” They all stood listening; it sounded like an old fridge to Cecilia. “If you think about it, you realise it’s always been there, a low hum that is in sync with the pulsating flicker that comes from the lights especially when they’re low?”

  “Yes…” Cecilia and Luke said in unison.

  “Well, that’s him, but he’s not a machine. Mr Sparks is an ancient living thing. He’s the heart of our system, pumping light along all the tubes that light up all the tunnels: one big living electric circuit. We all have that flicker within us but Mr Sparks, he’s special.”

  “Have you seen him?” Luke asked. He had the eyes of a child being told a ghost story.

  “No, but I do know where he is. The generator room is not too far from the
Nest, if you follow the edge of the Black Forest north. To be honest, when I had my chance to see Mr Sparks, I was afraid to look. Jacques d’Or took me to him once. He invited me inside beyond a huge iron door, and although apparently Mr Sparks is truly beautiful—perhaps the most beautiful shining thing Jacques d’Or could get his beak on—I couldn’t bear to see a living thing captured and tortured in such a way.” With that she put on a pair of shades that looked as though they might belong to some old swimming goggles held together with stiff pieces of wire.

  “So, how do we shut down a living thing without killing it? I assume we have to switch the generator off somehow to create a blackout,” said Luke.

  “It’s going to be tricky but I know it has something to do with draining the main tank.” Lady-Bird’s voice quivered with distress. “The poor thing, Mr Sparks deserves better. I wish we could release him back into the lake where he belongs. But as he is the only source of light for the entire network of tunnels, we can’t. If we can get to him and drain the tank that keeps him prisoner, at least we can create a blackout while the tank refills. That should buy us a few minutes.

  “We’re in big trouble if one of us gets caught. The hardest part is going to be getting you two past the guards and inside the generator room to Mr Sparks, so that I can let Kuffi out of the Nest,” said Lady-Bird.

  “And Madame Midnight,” said Luke. “Once she tells everyone what happened to her, there’ll be a revolution!”

  “Calm down, Luke, we’ve a long way to go yet,” said Lady-Bird, “and I’m afraid we are going to have to split up to put our plan into action. Unfortunately I can’t be in two places at once.”

  “OK,” said Luke.

  “There’s a lot the dwellers don’t know about Jacques d’Or. His looks aren’t the only reason he’s called that. He’s a collector of shiny things and he stows them away like treasure. He is sitting on a pretty big stash, underneath the Nest! That creature is a greedy thief! That’s why everyone trades in buttons; he’s obsessed with keeping all that shines to himself and his greatest admiration is for light itself. To light himself up and turn him gold. That’s why the Corvus Community exist: they are attracted to him instinctively. No one knows he’s just a plain old bird-face like anyone else. He’s managed to trick everyone into believing he is what’s valuable.