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

A shadow passed overhead, casting the kind of moment of darkness a plane does when it flies over fields on a sunny day. This made the crowd hush and the stadium filled with anticipation.

“It’s the master of ceremonies,” whispered Luke.

She swooped in and landed on a platform high in the air above their heads, cawing a beautiful long, smooth caw that sliced through the anticipation as the crowd stood, clapping and cheering. Cecilia jumped as she heard a loud wolf whistle screeching from a few rows behind them but smiled when she saw it was actually a wolf whistling. He was wearing a faded pink patchwork jersey that had AUGUSTUS THE ALMIGHTY painted on the back.

The master of ceremonies was exquisite. She was sheer black from her head to her claws, even her eyes. She was beautifully composed and eloquently spoken. The crowd roared as the competitors took up their positions. In all the commotion Cecilia managed to watch Augustus take his place in the ninth lane.

“Wow, it’s so exciting we know someone in the competition,” said Cecilia.

“It sure is, kiddo!” Luke replied.

“But I don’t get it. Why is Augustus in ninth if he has already won first? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Oh, yeah, right, you need the rules, hey? Well, the whole idea of the Ride or Sigh competition is to get a medal in every tournament, until you have a complete set of sixteen medals. But it takes a while because we never know when the wind of sighs is going to roll round!”

“The wind of sighs… is that blast we had to take cover from earlier?” asked Cecilia.

“Yes, Zephira—it’s quite erratic. So the first person to win sixteen medals wins the life-long-sigh achievement trophy. But, If you win in the same position twice, it’s a double and you’re disqualified from the competition for life and a new competitor is added to the competition in your place. It has been over a decade since the last life-long-sigh achievement trophy was given out and that last person was Madame Midnight”—he pointed to the crow on the plinth—“and that’s what your status is raised to, the master of ceremonies. If you double at ninth, say, that’s you for ever; you’ll always be ninth position wherever you go, whatever you do, and you never get a chance to start over. It’s a bitter pill to swallow but those are the rules. You get it?” he asked, matter-of-fact.

Cecilia was still taking it all in. “Yup, got it. But it all sounds quite risky if you ask me. A bit like gambling. What does it mean to have ninth status, then?”

“That you’ll be digging tunnels the rest of your life, most likely. It’s hardly a coveted position and no one wants to employ someone who comes in late if you think about it!” Luke looked over at Jasper, who was on the other side of Cecilia, sitting comfortably in his seat and soaking up the atmosphere, and lowered his voice to a loud whisper.

“Don’t say anything but that’s what happened to Jasper. He used to be an amateur sigh rider, then he got brave and tried to make the big time. Turned out he was actually really good. He’d got to twelve medals but doubled at fifteen. He became a tunneller out at the edges of the doldrums.”

“Doldrums?” asked Cecilia.

“Gee, it’s so tiring being with you. I have to explain everything,” Luke grumbled. “The doldrums are where all the waste from the tunnels winds up and goes into composting. It’s quite a way away because the gases that come from all the rotting are really dangerous, but it’s all part of the circle of life because then that good stuff goes back in the earth.”

“We have a compost heap at home. Mum’s super proud of it. We chuck all the old fruit and veg, potato skins and that sort of thing on it, but when you take the lid off tiny flies waft out with it and it stinks!” Cecilia giggled.

Luke looked at her and shrugged. He’d been doing that all day. “Annnnyway, while Jasper was working as a tunneller he was asked to make up part of a team sent out to search for new sources of water. ‘The Water Rats’, that’s what they called them. They didn’t just recruit rat-faces though, so it was an opportunity Jasper couldn’t really afford to turn down as it would have got him out of tunnelling and into divining instead. Sadly the day he started there was a gas explosion and a tunnel caved in on him. No one was ever sure how he survived but when he came round he’d lost his sight and his hearing was badly damaged, so he was relieved of all his duties. No one really cared about Jasper after that. That’s when we met. I was in a pretty bad state too as I had been abandoned. It wasn’t my fault—at least, that’s what Jasper tells me. Sometimes it happens, you know. I guess the dweller that left me wanted a bird-face or something. I was very young and alone and I needed nurturing. But that’s all in the past now.” Luke tailed off.

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