The Tunnel of Dreams

by Bernard Beckett

  ‘He cheated,’ Stefan fumed. ‘He attacked me after we had finished. I was taking off my blindfold and he struck me in the eye.’

  ‘Accident,’ said Malcolm.

  Stefan opened his one functioning eye to see his attacker shrugging, as if this was nothing more than a foot trip in the playground.

  The Major crouched, peering into Stefan’s face, more concerned about his vision than apportioning blame. ‘Malcolm, you have hurt the boy. Take him to the infirmary and explain what has happened.’

  Malcolm said nothing on the walk to the infirmary. Stefan was checked by Brandon, a short man with hairy arms and sympathetic eyes, whose treatment consisted mostly of listening. After a quick check he pronounced Stefan extremely lucky to still have his sight, and prescribed rest. ‘And because I know you’re not likely to take my advice, you’re going to spend the next thirty minutes here, doing absolutely nothing. If you need anything, I’ll be next door.’

  ‘I can’t—’ Stefan began, but the medic was having none of it.

  ‘I could declare you unfit for the Royal Guard. So you can sit in here and do nothing, or you can leave the Academy. The choice is yours.’

  Stefan returned to the waiting room and was surprised to see Malcolm still sitting there.

  ‘I have to rest here for thirty minutes,’ Stefan told him. ‘You don’t have to stay.’

  ‘Actually I do,’ Malcolm replied.

  ‘I won’t tell the Major if you leave,’ Stefan said. His eye still throbbed and having his attacker sitting so close wasn’t helping.

  ‘I know you’re angry with me,’ Malcolm said. ‘You should be angry. I nearly blinded you.’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about this.’

  Malcolm ignored him. ‘But I didn’t blind you,’ he said. ‘I was careful not to blind you. I just needed to get you here. It is the only place we can safely talk without people becoming suspicious.’

  Stefan tensed. Whatever trick Malcolm was about to pull, Stefan was certain it wouldn’t be good for him.

  ‘We’re both going to be there at the end, you know?’ Malcolm said. ‘Harriet too. She’s strong and she’s sure to survive tomorrow’s challenge.’

  ‘Perhaps I won’t,’ Stefan replied. ‘Thanks to you, I didn’t even get a chance to practise with the stick.’

  ‘You’ll get through,’ Malcolm assured him. ‘We’ll make sure of that.’

  ‘Who is we?’

  Malcolm paused, then moved to the door and opened it a crack, checking there was nobody outside. ‘I can’t tell you yet. Not until our guests arrive.’

  Stefan stood up. ‘What guests? I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but I want you to leave. If you don’t go, I’ll call the doctor in and—’

  ‘Brandon’s not there,’ Malcolm said. ‘He’s been sent on an errand.’

  ‘What errand? What’s going on?’ Stefan clenched his fists. ‘Get out of my way, or I’ll make you move.’

  Malcolm looked Stefan in the eye. Neither one flinched.

  ‘I know your name isn’t Will,’ Malcolm whispered. ‘I know about the tunnel, and about Arlo. I know what you think, Stefan, but I’m not your enemy. Sit quietly and rest your eye. They’ll be here soon.’

  Stefan stepped back and collapsed into his chair. His face was flushed and his stomach was heavy with dread. They knew. He had been discovered. His thoughts turned to Arlo. He had to get a message to him, warn him—

  ‘Don’t,’ Malcolm said, interrupting his thoughts.

  ‘Don’t what?’

  ‘Try to send your brother a message. ‘If a guard intercepts it, we won’t be able to save you.’

  Stefan looked at Malcolm. His face seemed different all of a sudden: softer, steadier.

  ‘Listen to your magic,’ Malcolm said. He sat in the chair next to Stefan. ‘It will tell you I can be trusted, but you have to listen to it. Not with your head, but with your magic.’

  But Stefan could not find his magic. All he could hear was his head screaming to him. Do not listen to him. It is a trick. He means to trick you.

  The door opened and Harriet entered. Behind her was Madame Latitude, who closed the door, and the two stood in silence.

  Harriet smiled nervously at Stefan. ‘What is this?’ she asked him. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Stefan said. ‘But he knows what’s happened. He knows where I’m from.’

  Stefan saw Harriet’s body tense and her weight shift to the balls of her feet, ready to run or to fight. Madame Latitude placed a settling hand on her shoulder.

  ‘It’s all right Harriet. We don’t mean to hurt you. Quite the opposite. It’s a long story, and we don’t have much time before somebody notices we are all missing, so I need you to listen carefully without interrupting. All of our futures depend upon it.’

  'WHAT I AM about to tell you both,’ Madame Latitude began, ‘only two people know, and we are both in this room. I presume that you will also find a way to get this story to Alice and Arlo.’ She nodded, as if nudging this new fact to drop into her head. ‘That will be six. And that must be the end of it. Six is an intolerable risk. I’m assuming Arlo has already told you what he learned from the pixies about our history and the danger Haven poses. Is that correct?’

  Stefan nodded.

  ‘And now I must tell you a little more,’ Madame Latitude continued. ‘Haven didn’t die, it is true. He disappeared, for a long, long time. The process of constructing his first tunnel all those years ago depleted him more than he ever anticipated. All this time he has been rebuilding his strength, preparing to reconnect the worlds.’

  ‘Why?’ Harriet asked.

  ‘To take what he can. And destroy the rest,’ Madame Latitude said simply. ‘It is hard perhaps for you to imagine what evil looks like, but there are those in this world who would build, and those who would tear down. Of all the tearers, Haven is the cruellest who has ever been, and the most powerful. He has not just been rebuilding his strength though. He is no fool. He has been building up a secret army, ready to rise. All around, wherever we look, whatever we say, we should assume some of his people are there, watching, listening.

  ‘We have known this for some time. It is our job to protect our worlds against a threat few can be allowed to even know exists. For if secrecy is Haven’s weapon, it must be ours too. I have worked with Malcolm for many years. He is my most trusted lieutenant. When I sensed a new tunnel being constructed, it was Malcolm I sought out. We did not know where the tunnel would open, or when, but we were on the alert.

  ‘Haven’s plan was simple. Twins in your world, Stefan, do indeed carry a magic more potent than any we have here. Somehow Haven has found a way of harnessing that power, and he has used it to keep a new tunnel open. He has an ally in your world who he instructed to find two such twins and send them through. I believe it was his intention to follow them back. But as you know, those twins were separated, and we assume that a single twin does not possess enough magic to allow him through the tunnel. Haven is powerful, but even he has his limits.’

  ‘Why does he want to travel to our world?’ Stefan asked.

  Madame Latitude hesitated, as if she were calculating the risk of telling them. She looked at Malcolm, who nodded. ‘When the first compromise was reached and the two worlds were created, it was clear that Haven posed the greatest threat to our safety the world had ever known, not just in that moment, but far into the future. Magic is a strange power. It belongs not to individuals but to the world itself. We do not possess magic, but rather we access it. We access it through our dreams. Did the first hint of your powers came to you in dreams, Stefan?’

  Stefan nodded. The strange dream that he and his brother shared, that repeated every full moon. How could he forget it?

  ‘It was a dream that brought you to the tunnel. Each night, when we sleep, our dreams replenish our power. They cleanse the channels to magic, purify them. Haven’s dreams gave him access to magic beyond our imagination, and so, when he w
as captured, a powerful spell was placed over him. A spell that prevented him from ever sleeping again. Without sleep, there are no dreams, and with no dreams, Haven’s power has steadily diminished. It is still substantial, still beyond that of most living creatures, but slowly, surely, it diminishes. But our spells do not extend beyond this world, that was part of the design when the separation was first proposed. It was meant to keep your realm safe from the influence of ours. It is our belief that Haven wishes to pass through to your world in order that he would finally be able to sleep and dream. And if he replenishes his powers, then we are done for, all of us.’

  ‘And he intended to meet up with Jackie and Alice and follow them back through.’ Stefan said, trying to make sense of it all. ‘So what happened? Why wasn’t he there?’

  ‘That Haven has evaded us for so long speaks of his great caution. He knows that if we capture him again he will be weaker than before. He will not escape a second time. Something delayed him meeting your friend, some intelligence, or just an intuition. And your friends proved curious; they didn’t behave as he expected. They went wandering, unaware of the attention twins in our land would draw. As you know, one of them was captured.

  ‘The mine was built, as a front so that we could set about dismantling the tunnel, a painstaking process that puts great demands on our magic. Jackie was held there because we had to keep the twins apart. If she escaped and the tunnel reopened, then Haven could follow them through. No one else knows Jackie exists apart from the few trusted guards we had sworn to secrecy. We have managed to convince most people Haven doesn’t even exist, that he is a myth. If the truth became known, there would be panic, the kind of panic Haven would use to his advantage.

  ‘Malcolm and I decided then that we would continue our own surveillance, telling nobody of our plans. I cannot stress this strongly enough. Haven’s followers are loyal, and we must assume they are everywhere: here in the Academy, even in the mine. The only way to keep our plans from Haven was to keep them from everybody. Until now. Malcolm, perhaps you should pick up the story here.’

  Malcolm cleared his throat. ‘I followed Alice. It wasn’t easy. She is ferociously resourceful, as I’m sure you know. Haven’s man in your world chose well. Haven managed to open up another tunnel for her, but without the power of Alice’s sister the opening was tremendously unstable. Alice was lucky it did not crush her. Our hope is that it has drawn greatly on Haven’s last reserves and he is now severely weakened. That was a massive risk for him, and it tells us he is getting desperate. I am certain, we are both certain, that he knows of your plans to rescue Jackie. We believe he will take his chance to follow you back through the tunnel. We are sure he sees it as his last chance.’

  ‘So you’re saying,’ Stefan said, the story crashing into place, filling his mind with splinters and dust, ‘you’re saying that if we rescue Jackie, we are helping Haven?’

  Madame Latitude smiled. ‘No, I am saying that you will be helping us to capture Haven. He will follow you, and I will be there waiting. His only chance to regain full power is to enter that tunnel. He has created his own perfect trap.’

  ‘Can I ask a question?’ Harriet looked at Madame Latitude. ‘And please don’t be offended. But if Haven is so powerful, what makes you think you can capture him?’

  Madame Latitude gave a modest tilt of the head. ‘Because I have done it before,’ she said.

  ‘But you wanted us to succeed,’ Stefan asked, reminded by the throbbing pain in his eye. ‘Why have you fought so hard to keep me from surviving the challenges?’

  ‘It is like Madame Latitude says,’ Malcolm replied. ‘We must assume there are spies everywhere. Any hint that anybody is making it easier for you, and Haven will hear of it and work the rest out for himself. He will never follow you into the tunnel if he does not believe you have remained undetected.’

  ‘But you were so vicious,’ Stefan said to Malcolm, still not quite believing that this boy before him was not the thug he had experienced. ‘Did you have to be so cruel?’

  ‘I had to be beyond suspicion,’ Malcolm answered. ‘And if you think the Academy has been hard, greater challenges lie ahead. I had to make sure you were ready for the battle.’

  ‘And if we hadn’t survived?’

  ‘That is a risk we had to take,’ Madame Latitude said. ‘It is a risk we still must take, for the final test is tomorrow, and Haven must not be alert to our plans. I can only hope that now you know what is at stake, you will fight even harder for your future.’

  ‘And when we win?’ Harriet asked.

  Stefan marvelled at her confidence.

  ‘When you win,’ Madame Latitude answered, ‘it will be the four of you against the full force of the Royal Guard. Our future depends upon you outwitting them.’

  ‘But you have a plan, I hope,’ Harriet said.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Madame Latitude smiled. ‘We have a plan.’

  ARLO AND ALICE spent a long afternoon waiting for Piwi to return.

  ‘I knew we shouldn’t have sent the pukeko,’ Alice said. ‘Seymour would have been a far better choice.’

  Arlo had to concede it would have made more sense, but Piwi had a way of making you give him what he wanted.

  It was almost dark when the odd creature finally appeared, crashing clumsily through the bush like a mini storm.

  ‘Took your time,’ Alice snapped, a mistake that cost them another half hour and four separate apologies before Piwi came back out of his hole beneath the tree roots. Then he insisted they sit in silence and listen to him explain just how much courage and ingenuity it had taken for him to survive his mission. Only then did he retreat into the bush to return with the small roll of paper that Stefan had tied to his leg for the return journey.

  The message, written in tiny cramped letters, consisted of a bulleted summary of Madame Latitude’s explanation and, on the reverse, her plan for the rescue, complete with a roughly drawn diagram of the tent and the guard positions. Finally, on the bottom were the words: When you have read this note, destroy it.

  Alice and Arlo sat before their fire’s subdued flames, talking the situation out from every angle. Alice remained as suspicious as ever. ‘But what if it’s all a trap?’ she asked at least a dozen times, and Arlo’s only answer was that Stefan trusted Madame Latitude, and that was good enough for him.

  ‘But what about Joan? She said somebody wasn’t what they appeared to be. What if she meant Madame Latitude?’ she challenged, and Arlo had to admit the question made him uneasy.

  Despite Alice’s misgivings Arlo could tell that she was secretly pleased that Madame Latitude’s plan was so close to her own. She scribbled down a few suggestions and sent a protesting Piwi back to the Academy with the modifications tied to his leg. Then she insisted they spend the rest of the night going through their roles in the rescue so many times that they could have performed them in their sleep. ‘The only thing that stops you panicking when the pressure’s on,’ she told Arlo, ‘is being able to act without thinking about it.’

  When the sun finally rose they retreated to their beds. Although he was exhausted, Arlo could not keep his mind from spinning and whirling.

  ‘What is it?’ Alice grumpily asked, tired of his sighing and turning over.

  ‘There are only four of us,’ Arlo said. ‘Up against the entire Royal Guard. They are trained, and have powerful magic. We’ll never be able to defeat them.’

  Alice gave a dismissive grunt. ‘You say that,’ she said. ‘But you’ve never seen me angry.’

  Arlo took comfort from her gruff certainty. ‘Sleep well,’ he said to her, and then, silently, to his brother, who today faced the final Academy challenge, good luck.

  Stefan stood with the other competitors and looked at the five Royal Guards before them. The guards stood proud and alert, the golden buttons of their red jackets shining like mirrors. This was it. By the day’s end five more would be fitted for their very first uniforms. Malcolm would be there, of course. And Harriet, it wa
s impossible to imagine her not surviving a combat challenge. And me, Stefan added, not through pride or confidence, but desperation. He didn’t want the success, or crave the uniform. He desired only to be standing on the other side of the tunnel, solid again in a familiar world, brother at his side, Alice and Jackie too, reunited, alive.

  ‘All right then, it has come to this, your final challenge,’ the Major said. ‘You can see we have put you in two teams.’

  Stefan stood at the front of his line, Harriet the back. At the back of the second line stood Malcolm, his usual sneering self. But not. Stefan tried not to pay him any attention, in case he looked at him differently, and somebody noticed. Haven’s people are everywhere. The thought had kept him awake through the night and the truth was he felt heavy now, sluggish. He would be wakeful soon enough; the first strike of the nettle stick would see to that.

  ‘Each team,’ the Major continued, ‘will send forward a contestant to battle with their guard. When you cede, and you will, for they have a full year of training and their skills vastly exceed yours, you will move to the back of your line. Then your second team member fights, and so it goes, until the guard, eventually worn down by a lack of rest, is defeated. Defeat a guard and you are through. A new guard then steps forward and the game continues until we have found our five heroes.’

  Stefan looked back at Harriet, but she did not meet his eye. Her head was down and she was bouncing on her toes: nervous, restless, ready.

  ‘Last year the tournament took four hours,’ the Major added. Pace yourselves.’

  Stefan noticed that, unusually, Madame Latitude was not present at the challenge. Perhaps she is too nervous, he thought. Perhaps she does not expect me to succeed. But there was no time for such speculation.

  The Major raised his hand, ready to signal the start, and Stefan was first up. He took up his nettle stick and rolled it lightly through his fingers.

  ‘Begin!’

  Stefan moved quickly, as he had planned, pushing forward with his stick while at the same time stepping to his left, hoping to evade the counter-blow. He felt his stick being brushed aside and at the same moment there was an intense burning in his cheek as the guard’s stick made contact. Rather than drop, though, he mustered all his energy to do the exact opposite, straightening his body and leaping into the air, brushing his stick in a broad arc below him as he performed a slow flying summersault. Surprise was his only weapon. But his stick brushed thin air and he landed with no sense of where his enemy was. The next blow was a heavy boot in the small of his back, propelling him forward. He hit the ground face first and felt the wind knocked from his lungs with the impact. The force of the blow had dislodged the stick from his hand and even as he rolled away he could sense his opponent looming over him. Immediately he raised his hand in a closed fist, the signal to surrender. He and Harriet had discussed the tactic carefully. Work the guard quickly and then get out before being harmed. It was the only hope of wearing them down. The problem was, Stefan was sure, his guard had hardly worked at all. At this rate it was he who would face exhaustion first. He walked head-down to the back of the line and stood behind Harriet.