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

palm. Cecilia examined the marble closely. She wondered where it came from and what its real purpose might be. After all, something had changed when they’d held it up to Polaris. Did it belong here? Or was it just a stupid piece of glass? She felt frustrated and ashamed. She thought about it and remembered that actually it was the thing that had got her into all this trouble in the first place. She felt weighed down by it and a small flame of anger flared up inside her. “It doesn’t mean anything. It’s pointless and heavy. It’s just a bit of old tat!” She groaned with frustrated anguish. “This is a piece of rubbish,” she growled, realising that nothing could ever replace what she had lost. She became rigid and tense and bursting into a fit of absolute rage, she lobbed the marble at the wall in front of her with all her might and all her fury.

In the instant that she hurled it, she came back to her senses with a tinge of regret. She waited to hear the shattering sound as the glassy orb broke into thousands of pieces—her eyes clenched shut, shoulders hunched. But no sound came. She dropped her shoulders and opened one eye, then the other and saw that the marble sphere had landed up on a ledge where it rolled around in circles, catching the light of the lamp next to it. A kaleidoscope of colours burst from it and the bioluminescent particles on the walls bounced it back all around her in thin shafts of light—like tiny lasers. The marble began to circle round faster and wider. Cecilia’s stood in awe as the orb spun off the ledge and into the air, spinning rapidly on an invisible axis.

She was astonished. It looked like a tiny star glowing from within and projecting its light and warmth. Cecilia shaded her eyes, squinting at the marble as it burned brighter and brighter. She let out a huge sigh that turned to white puffs like clouds passing around the sphere. It was like a miniature weather system in the room. The mood changed as the sphere began to move around the room erratically, the clouds casting shadows with small bursts of rain erupting. Cecilia held her hands out to catch the raindrops and laughed. The laughter caused bright pulses of warmth to surge from the orb. Cecilia approached the marble sphere and blew softly on the clouds and they moved, her breath turning to a light breeze that picked up and murmured around the room. It was incredible. She made to touch the marble sphere—but it was hot, almost too hot to touch.

Her fascination was interrupted by the sound of Doltha’s voice. “Ah, excuse me, Cecilia, but there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

Doltha smiled, looking at the marble sphere.

“Cecilia, meet Gaia.” Eight tentacles and a bulbous head rested above a body of hands and legs, feet and arms. An octopus-face stood proudly before Cecilia, tendrils outstretched in the same way Hester might draw a picture of the sun. She was a deepish red colour. Cecilia was overwhelmed.

“Hello, Gaia, pleased to meet you.” She held out her hand, not knowing where to look or what limb to shake.

“Tentacle or hand? Which will it be?” Gaia jested.

“Tentacle?” Cecilia replied.

“Pick a number.”

“Err, three.”

And they both giggled at each another as Gaia extended her third tentacle and shook Cecilia’s hand; it was quite sticky and a little bit slimy. While she was holding Cecilia’s hand in her tentacle, Gaia turned to Doltha and smiled. “I like this one, she can stay.” She looked back at Cecilia and winked.

“Now then,” said Gaia. “Looks like someone’s stumbled onto something rather special!” Gaia extended a tentacle towards the spinning marble. Cecilia got the feeling that Gaia was quite important.

“Have you figured out what it is yet?” she asked Cecilia.

“I thought it was a marble but obviously I was wrong.”

“We call it an elemental sphere and it’s been missing for quite some time. This elemental sphere belongs to a whole network actually, but without one, the chain is broken and the system becomes defunct, then none of them work. So I think we need to get this back where it belongs,” said Gaia.

“Do you mean Polaris?”

“She doesn’t miss a beat, does she?” said Gaia, nudging Doltha.

“Yes, you’re spot on,” Gaia said in answer to her question.

“Will that mean Mr Sparks can go back to the lake?”

“Ah, Mr Sparks, that poor fellow has been through an awful lot. Yes, exactly that,” said Gaia. “It looks as though you were sent here to set us straight, Cecilia.” Gaia strolled over to Cecilia and put a hand gently on her shoulder.

“I don’t suppose it’s going to be easy but then I suspect that you’re no stranger to a bit of a challenge. Get some rest and we will call a meeting with the Diving Council to work out what we should do next.” Gaia extended a tentacle towards the elemental sphere but stopped herself and instead turned back towards Cecilia.

“May I? It does belong to you, after all,” she said.

“Of course.” Cecilia hung her head a moment; it felt like she was giving away her last piece of home, but she realised the elemental sphere wasn’t just a piece of bric-a-brac any more—it was part of a complex and difficult system that might change the lives of all the dwellers, and hopefully her own. She reached her hand towards the elemental sphere. It was warm. Cecilia had to tug at it quite hard to get a hold on it, but once it was free it began to cool down and its light faded. She handed it to Gaia.

“Thank you, Cecilia,” said Gaia, throwing her another wink.

24Hexagon Hall

Cecilia could hear Doltha’s voice inside her head, telling her that the Diving Council members were ready to meet her and that she should join them in the Hexagon Hall.

“Follow my voice,” Doltha said softly. “Are you