by Rachel Tey
Tess agreed. “It got dark and I couldn’t find my way out, so I wandered about aimlessly until I reached the Musicians’ cottage.” She turned her attention back to the couple on the boat. “The Musicians are a string quartet that live in the Sapphire Forest. They’re a fox, nightingale, squirrel, and rabbit. Awfully polite and immensely talented.”
The pair nodded to show they following this convoluted plot of twists and turns, although the young man was beginning to look distracted and preoccupied.
“Anyway,” continued Tess, “the Musicians were kind to take me in, and in return I offered to take part in their concert. They were going to give a performance in their basement, but were having some trouble with this particular piece –”
“ Mélodie,” Belle recalled. “I’ll never forget it. It’s the most beautiful piece of music.”
The couple seemed to balk at its mention. “ Mélodie?” the young man echoed, in a baritone voice that matched his classical good looks. There was a haunted look in his piercing blue eyes.
“Yes, Mélodie.” Belle was unnerved by his strong reaction, but carried on with the tale. “When I couldn’t find Tess in Belzerac, I went home without her, thinking maybe she’d returned on her own to Michelmont. But days passed and she didn’t show up at school, so I approached my new classmate for help.” She put an affectionate arm around Julien’s shoulder and he smiled shyly. “I told him about Tea in Pajamas and convinced him to join my search party. He agreed, and the following week, we ventured into the Sapphire Forest, along with Cheesy Bear and the DuPorcs. That’s when we heard Mélodie playing.”
“How does Mélodie go?” asked the young lady.
Julien, still clutching the handheld torch, began to whistle the familiar tune, and Tess sighed with pleasure. “Yes, that’s it! You must’ve heard us practicing for the concert.”
“Mm hmm,” Belle acknowledged, “because the music led us to you.”
Tess was getting to the end of her storytelling session. “And so they found me and we left the cottage to locate Monsieur L’Arbre, a gigantic tree with mystical powers,” she said. “He showed us two doors on his trunk, one of which opened into Michelmont.”
The boatman sneered. “I’m guessing the story didn’t end there, or you wouldn’t all be here.” He launched into a phlegmy coughing fit that jerked the hood of his cloak off his head. Everything about him looked sparse, from his wispy strands of silver hair and thinning beard, right down to his skeletal frame.
Julien, on the other hand, was looking quite resplendent. Against the blaze of his handheld torch, his spiky hair resembled a dramatic fireball. “Once we got home, things got weird fast,” he said. “For one, Belle’s family had disappeared from her house, and at school the next day, we were shocked to see the Musicians on campus, assuming the identities of the staff.”
Belle noticed how the young man squirmed whenever the words “ Mélodie” and “Musicians” were mentioned. He displayed a polite enough interest in the story of how three eleven-year-olds found themselves in an underground canal, far away from home, but something else was bothering him deeply. Maybe it had something to do with the young lady seated behind him, her knees hugged tightly against her chest.
“Seems like the lines between two worlds became blurred,” the boatman concluded, his tone derisive. “Maybe that’s what happens when you don’t pay your rightful dues, and instead convince others to accept worthless metal contraptions –” he fished the cellphone out of his pocket, “– and frivolous instruments.” He bent over, reached into a hidden crevice of the boat, and pulled out a beautiful golden lyre.
Belle was seized by a sudden fear that he might just toss the objects overboard and sought to bring his attention back to the story. “That’s why we decided to return to Belzerac to investigate,” she said quickly. “In the process, we took part in an art competition, and miraculously the paintings were the clues that led us down this tunnel. And here we are!”
In her haste, she neglected to mention the mysterious lady who’d burned a hole through the ground beneath Monsieur L’Arbre, or the fact that the torch in Julien’s hand belonged to her, but was nonetheless relieved to see that the boatman had resumed rowing. Both the cellphone and lyre now lay at his feet, in plain sight.
The young lady had a bright smile that reached her golden eyes. “That’s an extraordinary story,” she remarked to the children. “I hope you find your way home.”
The boat conversation had put Julien in a contemplative mood. “Supposing we don’t make it back, we’ll have to find a way to carry on here, won’t we?”
“But our families –” Belle felt herself welling up with tears.
The maiden wore a sympathetic smile on her face but her male companion looked more distracted. His eyes were glued to the golden lyre just inches from where he sat. “I must make it home,” he muttered. “I’ve paid dearly for this trip.”
At this, Belle’s eyes traveled to her brother Éric’s cellphone, lying right next to the stringed instrument. It looked ridiculously modern and out of place beside the medieval-looking lyre. If only the boatman would say where they were bound – it felt unfair she should have to part with something so precious in return for a journey fraught with uncertainty.
“Obstacle ahead!” The boatman held up his arm to signal that he was slowing down and to warn his passengers to sit tight.
All onboard craned their necks to see what the holdup was.
Darkness into Light
At first Belle thought she saw a large piece of driftwood floating in the middle of the canal, but as they drew closer, she realized it was another boat. It looked identical to the wooden vessel they were in, only empty.
“I thought you said you were the only operator here,” Tess said to the boatman, voicing Belle’s thoughts.
“Yeah,” Julien chimed in, “how come there’s another boat here?”
The old man’s response was deadpan. “I did say I was the only one who provides this ferry service, not that you weren’t at liberty to find your own transportation.”
He negotiated his way around the obstructing vessel in masterful strokes until both boats bobbed side by side. “This is a spare boat. Some adventurous souls prefer to use it to explore the canal’s other routes. If you want to go your own way, by all means, hop off and switch over.”
Belle couldn’t deny the prospect was tempting, mostly because she found the boatman’s presence creepy, but that in itself didn’t seem like a good enough reason. Besides, exhausted and feeling nauseous from motion sickness, she didn’t know how well she and her friends would manage a boat by themselves. She saw that Julien and Tess remained rooted to their seats in indecision.
The couple, however, seemed more intrigued by the idea, especially the young man.
“Good sir,” he said to the boatman, “my partner and I are grateful for all your assistance but shall presently depart from this boat.”
The old man studied the lad with interest, before turning to the maiden. “Is this your wish, too, Madam – to make your own way toward the appointed destination?”
She rose to her feet gracefully. “I do wish to make my own way,” she said, as her male companion climbed deftly into the neighboring boat. “Thank you, good sir, for the ride.”
Then turning to the children, she blew them a kiss. “Farewell, Belle, Tess, and Julien. Safe travels back to Michelmont.”
The young man was raring to go. He brandished the spare boat’s oar with glee and made a few practice strokes in the water.
Meanwhile, the young lady was getting ready to cross over. She hitched the tattered hem of her white dress and planted one bruised leg into the other boat.
But Julien’s sudden cry seemed to rattle her. “Wait!” he shouted, picking up the lyre from behind the boatman and waving it at the couple. “Don’t forget your instrument!”
The young man turned his head. As his blue eyes met the gaze of his partner, Belle saw them fill with horror and regret.
“No, no, no, no!!” he screamed. “DON’T GO!!”
It was too late. The maiden had already slipped and disappeared into the dark waters, while a sudden and forceful wave rose and swept the young man and his boat out of sight.
His cries of desperation continued to echo around them, long after he vanished down the watery tunnel. He seemed like a lost cause, but maybe Belle could still save his partner.
That was her only thought when she dove in to rescue her. However, once plunged into the freezing cold waters, Belle was reminded how she was only a mediocre swimmer – at best. Then came the realization that beneath the canal’s calm surface lay a strong and steady undercurrent.
“What do you think you’re doing?” the boatman was bellowing, “Get back up here, it’s dangerous!” He had an iron grip on his oar and his knuckles had gone deathly white.
“I need to find her before she drowns!” Belle yelled, in between gasps for air. “Stay here! I’ll grab the oar when I’m ready to come up!”
“Are you sure?” Tess cried, her face white with fear.
Belle nodded, took a deep breath, and plunged back underwater.
Julien, however, was taking no chances on his friend’s safety. “I’m going in after her,” he said, passing his torch to Tess. “Hold this upright so we can see where you are.”
“Be careful!” Tess shouted, as he disappeared after Belle, with a splash.
The deeper Belle descended, the more her body seemed to weigh her down like lead. Her limbs ached with exhaustion and she felt as if she were running out of breath. Could the young lady have sunk to the bottom of a bottomless pit? Still, she swam and swam.
Her eyes were just beginning to adjust to the pitch black conditions when she felt a hand reach for her arm and grip it firmly. She couldn’t quite make out who it was, but as she flailed about to grab on to the other swimmer, she felt spiky hair and loose clothing. Julien, she realized with relief.
He had come at the right time too. Disoriented and exhausted, she was floundering. Her lungs would’ve given out before she mustered enough energy to propel herself to the surface. She shut her eyes and leaned into his grasp as they ascended.
“Grab on to the oar!” was the first thing she heard as they emerged for air. It was the boatman, yelling at the top of his lungs. This was followed by the blinding glare of the torch Tess was waving about as a light signal. The vessel came rowing toward them and Belle clambered onboard, followed by Julien.
“These waters are unbelievably deep and you could’ve drowned! Why do you think we travel by boat and not swim?” The old man was livid, but his reproachful tone soon turned more sympathetic when he saw that Belle was quietly sobbing. He undid the tattered cloak around his shoulders and handed it to Julien. “I only have this. Dry off and let her have it as a blanket.”
“She’s gone, I couldn’t save her,” Belle mumbled, her voice choking with tears.
Tess held the torch close to Belle to keep her warm. “But you risked your life trying. It’s not your fault.”
“It’s mine,” Julien said glumly, draping the boatman’s cloak around his shivering friend’s shoulders. “If I hadn’t been a busybody about the lyre, I wouldn’t have caused the young lady to lose her balance and fall in.” He tried to keep a straight face but his voice was hoarse.
“Be glad you’re alive,” said the boatman. Despite the dramatic turn of events, one likely death, and the permanent departure of two of his passengers, he had resumed rowing as if nothing happened. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s not anybody’s job to save anybody – you alone are responsible for your own salvation.”
Belle’s eyes were sore from crying. Even though she didn’t know the young maiden very well, she’d felt an affinity with her and was horrified to have witnessed her accident. She felt a surge of anger at the boatman’s lack of empathy.
“And were we just supposed to watch her die and not try to help?”
“First of all, you don’t know of her fate,” he retorted. “And even though she and her partner were passengers on this ride, they were bound for other destinations. There’s nothing you could or couldn’t have done to have changed that fact.”
“I figured they weren’t going to Michemont,” Tess remarked. “But why did they get on this boat?”
There was a long pause before the boatman replied. “One of them wanted to take a shortcut. But there are no shortcuts in life – or death.”
They rowed on in silence. After the adrenaline rush, Belle was overcome with fatigue and soon found herself drifting off. As the boat bobbed ahead, she shut her eyes and allowed sleep to take over.
But her slumber was short-lived.
“Good morning, passengers!”
Belle awoke at the sound of the boatman’s gruff voice, momentarily forgetting where she was.
The old man was standing in front of them with a wide grin across his droopy face. There were large gaps in between his rotting teeth, but his eyes held a lively sparkle.
“We are coming to the end of our journey,” he declared. “Behold, your destination lies straight ahead.”
Julien took the torch from Tess and held it aloft for a better look. Indeed, there seemed to be a tiny dot of light at the end of the tunnel. The size of a pinhole, it glowed like a singular star in the night sky, and grew more discernible the closer they approached.
Belle’s mind was no longer on the young couple or on how cold, wet, and hungry she was feeling. Instead, her eyes were glued to the promise of the light, which looked at once so near yet so far. Her heart beat excitedly at the thought of fresh air and sunshine.
The children, whose eyes had grown accustomed to the dim conditions of the tunnel, began to squint and shield their faces from the dazzling glare. Meanwhile, Julien’s torch, which had served them so well on their subterranean journey, was fast becoming redundant. The flames grew less perceptible the closer they moved into broad daylight.
But the blare of a tuneless alert, followed by a loud hum, interrupted the thick air of anticipation.
Beep, beep, buzzzz …
“What’s that?” Julien wondered aloud. “Sounds almost like –”
“ – a text message –” Tess continued.
“ – from my brother’s phone!” Belle exclaimed.
All eyes turned to Éric’s cellphone, still lying at the boatman’s feet, right next to the now-ownerless lyre. The screen was lit, as if having come to life.
The boatman seemed unfazed by the interruption of technology. “I believe that’s for you,” he said, casting a perfunctory glance at the device.
Belle lurched for it and unlocked the screen. The message read:
Hey Belle, is that you? Using Mom’s phone to text you. We’re at the Carrolls’ next door. Are you home yet? – Eric
The mouth of the tunnel was now in plain sight, but the incoming rays of sunshine were no longer causing Belle’s eyes to smart. With trembling fingers, she typed a quick reply.
Glad you’re all OK. On my way back.
– Belle xx
END
Author’s Note
Wow, we made it. Yes, we.
This may read “Author’s Note” but in truth, Tea in Pajamas isn’t all about me. I owe the first book’s better-than-expected reception and the birth of its sequel Beyond Belzerac entirely to my readers. The idea that people out there identify with Belle, Tess, or Julien, and have traveled with them between the worlds of Michelmont and Belzerac, still feels so surreal to me. It’s also the reason I continue to write.
We – both my readers and I – have come a long way since the original edition of Tea in Pajamas was self-published in December 2015 with the support of a National Arts Council grant. It began as a deeply personal project, but today it’s as much my story as yours.
As always, I’m grateful for the unwavering support of my husband Joseph. His original illustrations breathed life into the books’ characters and places, and inspired me to write more visually. My thanks also go
to friends who encouraged me along the way, especially when I was uncertain if I should write a second book. Last but not least, I’d like to thank my publisher, Marshall Cavendish, for giving the Tea in Pajamas series a wider platform.
With Beyond Belzerac, I have attempted to address most of the question marks left in the first book, as well as leave room in the reader’s imagination for future possibilities. No doubt the tale has taken a darker turn and introduced a story-within-a-story element that explores more serious themes like death and redemption. However, the premise remains unchanged: both books are ultimately about a person’s journey toward becoming more discerning and self-aware.
I hope you enjoy reading this sequel as much as I enjoyed penning it. Writing may be a solitary endeavor for the most part, but I never feel alone knowing that readers and I are on the same page. Literally.
Thank you for reading.
Discover the start of Belle’s adventures in
Tea in Pajamas
What if, by doing something ordinary, you unlocked the gateway into a world of the extraordinary?
For Belle Marie and Tess Brown, having tea on Wednesday afternoons – barefoot and in pajamas – transports them from their homes to the storybook land of Belzerac, where they befriend animals like Cheesy Bear and Monsieur DuPorc, the mayor of Belzerac. But one Wednesday, Tess suddenly vanishes.
Together with her new classmate Julien Edgehawk, Belle embarks on a quest to rescue Tess, taking them through a glittering sapphire forest and an underground concert hall to meet an enchanted tree and the mysterious Musicians.
Can they save Tess before it is too late, or will Belle and Julien themselves get lost in Belzerac?
Tea in Pajamas is an original tale of friendship, finding yourself and seeing the magic in the everyday.
Rachel Tey is an editorial consultant. She lives in Singapore with her husband and two children. Tea in Pajamas: Beyond Belzerac is the sequel to her first book, Tea in Pajamas.
