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

the marsh-cello, a sheep-face holding a set of brushes to play the bubble-drum and finally, a face Cecilia recognised: there was Rosie standing on the stage, trembling hugging her fruitolin tightly to her chest. Lady-Bird began:

“This is my one for sorrow…

Because I’ve found no room for joy

I was just a girl

Back when I met my boy

And as my threads turn slowly silver

All I have is this tune to hold

Cos love’s dream is worthless

In a world made of glitter and gold

And so I’ll always keep my secret and swear,

it’s never to be told

For this, is my one for sorrow…

And the only friend I’ll ever know.”

There was utter silence when Lady-Bird finished singing and a stilling of time took place before applause rose up around the room like a fierce fire. She bowed and her dress, Cecilia now noticed, was entirely fashioned from… rusted ring pulls and old milk-bottle tops like the old-fashioned ones Granny ordered from the milk man! Aghast and pointing, her voice raised from a mutter against the din of the crowd…

“Her dress… Luke, we have them back home! It’s made from old milk-bottle tops… And ring pulls from drinks cans!”

She tugged on Luke’s jacket; his face was in rapture. “I know, isn’t she mesmerising?” he said, nodding furiously.

Cecilia made to push herself forward but Luke grabbed her and held her back, “Where are you going?”

“The show’s over. We need to get to her, don’t we?” Cecilia said, her voice just above a whisper.

Then it dawned on her that the crowd was extremely full of Corvus. All around them the other dwellers began putting on pairs of jet-black wings—those who weren’t wearing them already or who hadn’t had them since birth, that is. It was then Cecilia really understood how important it was that Mrs Hoots had given them the wings to wear: because everyone else was wearing them to show their support and without them they might have been seen as opponents.

“Cecilia, I’m sorry. It’s not safe, just look around you,” he whispered. “You can’t just wander off, this is about to get serious. We will find Lady-Bird after. It looks like something is about to happen right here, right now.”

“You’re right. Thanks, Luke. I just feel so awful—I want so much to help Kuffi.”

“I know you do,” said Luke, “but one step at a time, OK?”

A band of bird-faced figures stepped out from the shadows and lined up on the stage while Lady-Bird was escorted off into the wings by a grumpy-looking goose-face.

Abruptly a violent cawing call broke out, shattering the peace left by Lady-Bird. A rhythmic crackling cackle and a fervent flapping of wings moved the air around the room in a flurry. Fear washed over Cecilia, and she broke a sweat as if waking up from one nightmare to find herself in another. Through the band of crows emerged the magnificent and unmistakable form of Jacques d’Or.

As he came into view Cecilia’s jaw gaped a little. She realised Jacques d’Or wasn’t made of gold; he was an albino magpie, with beautiful ruby-red eyes. Cecilia could tell he was a magpie from his shape. She’d always loved magpies! However, he was unlike all of the rest of the dwellers that Cecilia had encountered on her journey through the tunnels: Jacques d’Or had no other human body parts apart from his arms—it was as though they had just been stuck onto him under his wings—other than that he was a man-sized golden bird. No wonder everyone thought he was special; he was a very rare and wonderful sight to behold. He shone against his dark shadow, a giant stretched out behind him on the back of the stage. His voice commanded:

“Brothers, sisters and friends among us here today. They said it couldn’t be done, but I have never believed in the impossible. If I can imagine it, if I believe it, then the nothing can stand in our way! We possess the true power of darkness: FEAR!

“We have the dwellers under our command now and for ever! Join me!” He roared, his voice ricocheting off the ceiling, shaking the heaven above their heads as he began to chant, the crowd joining in with him:

“Fear is no foe,

He’s a friend of mine,

Who keeps the weak in check and the rebels in line!”

Cackling broke out all around the room. It sounded like the poisonous laughter of scores of witches in the scary movies that Cecilia wasn’t really allowed to watch. She stood rooted to the spot. Jacques d’Or shot into the air and wafted over the crowd, extending his strange lanky arms to high-five the crowd below him. They exploded into a cacophony of encouragement. He returned to the stage, composed himself and, grinning and with grand gestures, he continued.

“Many of you in attendance here today have come to me at some time of need and asked me to ease your pain, your suffering, to help you feed your family or to wet your mouths. You’ve asked me to bring about change. But I am not the one who’ll line your pockets. I’m not the worms on your table. I cannot continue to be the shoulder to catch your tears! If you want us to expand as a community, the Corvus Community, you must learn to stop your snivelling and come to me with ambition and ideas. We have to continue to be the driving force that leads the way in the darkness. Carpe noctem!”

The whole room exploded in response, “Carpe noctem!”

Cecilia realised she was gripping Luke’s hand very tightly. There is nothing quite like an unfamiliar rowdy crowd to make you feel out of place, like when you sit in the other team’s stands at the football, she thought. The crowd settled and when Jacques d’Or’s voice rose once again, she wished he would stop.

“We must build from the bottom up. It is important that you all understand that the state of having little or nothing is actually a blessing, not a curse. You see now we can