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

the lock before hitting the lights. A most glorious chandelier twinkled from the ceiling like a cluster of stars, a small cut-glass orb a bit like Cecilia’s marble projecting light all about the room.

“That’s pretty,” said Cecilia.

“Isn’t it just?” winked Mrs Hoots, stretching a small soft, powdery wing across her back.

“Now, you’ll need to get out of those filthy clothes; Cecilia, you can follow me around to the back in just a tick. First, you need to know the rules. As you can guess, it’s taken me a lifetime to source all the materials to make these clothes and I will NOT have some dirty little toe-rags soiling my finery! So hands off! Right then, chop CHOP!” She startled the two of them as she screeched, “What a hoot!”, cackling madly.

“Now, you’re quite tall, aren’t you, Luke? Put this on while I have a think.” She threw him a silken robe made of tiny pieces of material delicately sewn together.

“And now come on, Miss Cecilia, follow me.”

Mrs Hoots called out to Luke as she and Cecilia walked through to the room next door; her voice was very loud for such a small bird. “Luke, the suit I had in mind for you might need a bit of adjusting. So just get washed up for now and I’ll start with Cecilia. I won’t be long!”

Mrs Hoots led Cecilia into a small cave of what could only be described as treasure: wall to ceiling trinkets, gowns, dresses, bags and slippers. Cecilia’s jaw almost hit the floor as she marvelled at the collection.

“My babies!” Mrs Hoots sang, gesturing to her bounty as she danced along the rails, flicking at the petticoats, skirts and dresses.

Cecilia was in a trance as Mrs Hoots smiled proudly, wafting to and fro, but her prancing came to an abrupt end when she caught Cecilia with her hand outstretched.

“Argh!” she screeched, batting it away, “Don’t you dare touch anything with that grubby little hand! There’s a wash-basin and soap on the side and towels and washcloths above it… Do not ask where I get the water; I have my sources as do most and it’s better left undiscussed. Now, hustle or you won’t make it in time for the music!”

Mrs Hoots babbled away, singing and sewing, telling stories of all the famous dwellers she had dressed and styled. She was full of beans and her spirit lit up the room even when she wasn’t physically present. She got the two of them ready separately but you could hear her hooting about wherever she was. She gave them each a hot drink that tasted like chocolatey mushrooms, but Cecilia was starting to get used to the weird combinations of flavours in this world so she didn’t mind it much. By the end of the twitching and stitching, Luke and Cecilia were quite merry and laughter filled the shop.

“Arms up, Cecilia!” said Mrs Hoots, helping her into her dress. Cecilia extended her arms above her head, looked towards the ceiling and screamed. Above them the cave narrowed into a funnel and it was covered in scores of webs that housed a knot of translucent palm-sized spiders, each weaving away at various intricate patterns.

“Ah, yes, I see you’ve noticed my lacemakers. There are seventeen of them in total. My darlings,” she whispered. Cecilia blinked and stared in wonder as the creatures continued with their work, undisturbed by her outburst. “We share what we catch, don’t we, darlings?” She hooted up to the ceiling and the spiders responded in unison with a clicking sound rather like an orchestra of crickets.

Mrs Hoots made some final adjustments to Cecilia’s dress and the marble in the chandelier caught Cecilia’s eye once more. Cecilia was a little closer now and took a moment to remark how similar the cut-glass orb at the centre of chandelier was to her marble. It was hard to see from where she was standing if it had any of the markings on its surface but the size was similar. Though nothing seemed to be happening to it, not like when they stood in front of Polaris. Maybe just being in the same room wasn’t enough; maybe they needed to interact in some way. Perhaps they were part of some puzzle, she mused.

“You’re done,” Mrs Hoots sang. “Fix your mane then you’ll be ready for your big reveal!” she said, clapping wildly and drifting next door to put the final touches on Luke.

Cecilia stood in front of the mirror. Her dress was stunning and she was as fresh as the day she was born—but her hair was a terrible mess. She didn’t really know where to begin. First, she tried to find the hair bobble that was lost in the massive knot. Once she had located it in the labyrinth of untidy curls, she began to yank. “Ouuuuuuch,” she said as it popped free, and her hair jerked out in all directions like she had just been given an electric shock.

“Are you OK in there?” called Mrs Hoots. “I didn’t leave a pin in the dress, did I?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Cecilia answered, smiling at her wild hairstyle.

She stood there pulling the mass apart from the roots and finally managed to part it down the middle, untangling each side as much as she could. Then she grabbed the hair bobble and cut it in two using Mrs Hoots’ makeshift scissors. She took the left side in her hand and twisted it round into a bun and tied half of the hair bobble round it. When she was done on the left, she did the same on the right so she had a tidy bun on either side. As she smoothed each side over with water, she thought about how some coconut oil would sure come in handy now.

Mrs Hoots popped her head round the door. “Perfect,” she said with delight. “Come on then!”

Cecilia walked back through the partition; it reminded her of one of those makeover programs her mum and Hester liked to