The Tunnels Below by Nadine Wild-Palmer (have you read this book .txt) 📗

5Ducking and Diving

As Cecilia sat there digesting a stomach full of worms, she noticed a young lad in a hood, with a pair of antlers jutting out of two holes ripped in the top. She watched him carefully and realised he was watching her too. He beckoned her to come over to him with a motion of his head, but she quickly turned away, shoving her hands in her pockets and pretending to be preoccupied to avoid looking at him.

“What are you looking for in there, then?” came a youthful voice from behind her. It seemed she had company. Cecilia turned and found herself staring up at the stag-faced boy, the very creature she’d been trying to avoid. He had come to her.

“Sorry?” she said, acting dumb.

“Don’t be. What have you got in there? I know, let’s play a game. Whatever it is you’ve got in your pocket, I’ll buy it off you!” he said, looking at her with black eyes that shone like tarnished silver.

“But you don’t know what it is. What if it’s just a piece of rubbish?” Cecilia replied, baffled.

“What’s life without a little bit of a gamble, a little bit of risk? You just have to believe you’re lucky and it usually works out!” he said confidently.

Cecilia sat there listening to him talk boisterously, feeling quite intimidated.

“Whatever it is, I’ll buy it. Come on! Two buttons?”

“I haven’t got anything,” she lied.

“Ooohweeee, would you look at that?” said the stag-faced boy, pointing at the lights above. Cecilia brought her hands up to shield her eyes from the lights as she stared high into the hollows of the Market roof.

“Oldest trick in the book,” he said, whipping the marble out of her pocket. He cupped it in both hands and brought it up to his eye. He peered into it. His jaw became slack and Cecilia watched him mouth the words “gee whiz”. He was so distracted she managed to grab it back out of his hand.

“That’s mine. Thief!” she said, just shy of shouting.

“Takes one to know one,” he said childishly.

Just as the words left his mouth, Cecilia found Kuffi at her side.

“So, I see you’ve met Luke. Right rascal, this one, quick and witty.” Kuffi pointed at his head. “My, your antlers have grown, Luke.” Kuffi laughed. “He’s harmless really, Cecilia.” Kuffi laughed again, trying to embarrass the poor young buck.

“Sorry, Koof, I didn’t know she was with you.” He reminded her of any other surly teenage boy, like the boys that hung out in her local park getting into all sorts of mischief, but in Kuffi’s presence he seemed humbled.

“Well, now you do. Off you go, son, and say hello to Jasper for me. Let him know we’ll be popping in on him later, will you?”

“All right, Koof!” he said, shooting Cecilia a look that said: this isn’t over yet! Cecilia got the distinct feeling he was right. It seemed that everyone knew Kuffi and everyone liked him; Cecilia was beginning to feel rather special walking around with him.

Cecilia was feeling much more herself and having Kuffi stick up for her had made her feel somewhat safer than she had before. Many of the market traders were beginning to pack up and just as she was beginning to grow tired, Kuffi smiled widely and pointed out a bookstall.

There were books piled high. Some even had familiar titles and authors. Cecilia found a handwritten leather-bound book called The Diary of a Button Collector sticking out of the bottom of one of the stacks. She shuffled it out like the bottom piece in a game of pick-up sticks, trying not to disturb the pile above.

“How do I buy this?” Cecilia asked Kuffi, interrupting the conversation he was having with a fox-face called Edwina. She had a sharp smile, smooth voice and teeth that looked like they could do serious damage. She also had beautiful shoulder-length red hair that matched her fur.

“It’s worth a button, babe,” Edwina answered, two dimples carving out her smile.

“Unless you have something else to exchange for it? I’m always on the look out for new curiosities and you don’t look like you’re from round here—got anything of interest for me?” She smiled at Kuffi, clearly flirting with him.

“Huh?” Cecilia was trying to read into what she was saying.

“You need to exchange something for it. Buttons are the best way to go. I’d hold on to that ‘present’ you were given, if I were you. You never know when you might need it,” said Kuffi, helping her out.

“OK,” said Cecilia, handing over one of the buttons that Kuffi had removed from her coat.

“Do you want me to look after it for you, Cecilia? We can have a read later when we get back.”

“Cheers, Kuffi,” said Cecilia as she passed it to him.

“The Diary of a Button Collector,” he read aloud. “Thrilling, I bet!” He put it safely in his inside pocket.

At that moment something familiar caught Cecilia’s eye. “Great Expectations, by Charles Dickens?” Cecilia was bursting with excitement “See, Kuffi, that guy, Charles Dickens, he’s from where I come from, up there—the light at the end of the tunnel or whatever you call it!” She bellowed as she pointed to a book a little way above her head.

“No, he’s not. Charles Dickens lives just off the lime line in the lime-light district with the other celebrated dwellers.”

“Dickens is DEAD!” shouted Cecilia loudly, losing control of herself.

A hush came over the market. A murmur began, whispers spreading through the crowd before an old squirrel-face lady began wailing, “NO! Dickens is dead! DICKENS IS DEAD!”

Chaos broke out; people began rushing about in a huge commotion, spreading the news to one another. But it didn’t last long. Overhead, circling in like ghosts of darkness, a group of cloaked bird-faces began to descend on the crowd. Fear settled in all around like a storm approaching and the chatter dimmed to whispers and then silence. Everything became very, very still.