The Tunnel of Dreams

by Bernard Beckett

  ‘You won’t,’ Harriet replied. ‘But it’s nice of you to say it. I’ll always remember this.’

  ‘So will I,’ Stefan replied. ‘I will always remember your bravery.’

  ‘And I’ll remember yours,’ Harriet said. ‘Now go, while you still can.’

  Stefan smiled. Harriet kissed his cheek and his smile grew. Blushing, he turned awkwardly and climbed up the ledge into the tunnel. He expected Alice to tease him, but instead felt her hand squeeze his shoulder.

  Arlo was the last to move, saving his final words for Seymour. ‘I know you’re not meant to involve yourself in our affairs,’ he said. ‘But I’m glad you did.’

  Seymour looked quickly away, whether embarrassed or offended Arlo couldn’t say. Arlo’s final sight of this strange world was of the beautiful ruru beating an elegant path high into the moonlit sky.

  Alice pulled Arlo up to the ledge then followed him down into the cool of the tunnel. They navigated the passage by the dim light of a fading headlamp. The walls almost seemed to be moving, as if they were inside not rock, but some heaving, living creature. Arlo could feel its great weight pushing down on them and, somehow, his own magic pushing back. He had noticed none of this on his first journey through the tunnel. Back then he hadn’t even known what magic was.

  He put these thoughts out of his mind and let himself simply move. He stayed close to Stefan. He’d never known how much it meant to have his brother close. He watched the way Jackie leaned in to Alice, clutching her sister’s arm. His thoughts were interrupted by a strange sound, a low kind of moaning that rose and then, just as quickly, fell away to quiet.

  ‘Just the wind,’ Stefan said, and nobody disagreed. They walked on through an eerie silence.

  ‘Hurry,’ Jackie urged Alice. ‘I don’t like it here.’ She moved forward, pulling her sister with her.

  Arlo stood still, watching.

  ‘What is it?’ Stefan asked. ‘You don’t have to worry about that sound. I’m sure it was just—’

  ‘It isn’t the wind,’ Arlo replied.

  ‘Then what?’

  Arlo couldn’t find the words to name the feeling floating through him. A feeling of dread, of new danger. A feeling that if only he stood still a moment longer, the last piece of the puzzle would fall into place. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Stefan told him, tugging at his sleeve. ‘We made it. We’re safe. But we have to keep up so we lose their light. Jackie is fast for somebody who’s been in a cage for a month.’

  That was it, the thought Arlo could not name. Jackie was doing well. Too well. The image of Joan filled Arlo’s head, whether a memory or magic he couldn’t say. For those that do have magic, it can make that magic easier to find. Arlo felt the outline of the empty gotta-juice flask in his pocket, and remembered how Jackie had raised it again to her lips. How greedily she had emptied the bottle.

  ‘Stefan,’ Arlo said. ‘I think we’re in trouble.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Alice!’ Arlo called ahead. ‘Stop. You have to stop a moment!’

  ‘Why?’ Alice’s reply echoed along the chamber.

  ‘Just wait.’

  ‘What is it?’ Stefan whispered as the boys moved cautiously forward. The air in the tunnel had grown suddenly cooler. The groaning came again, louder this time.

  ‘You’re going to think I’m mad,’ Arlo told him. ‘But you know how we thought we were so clever, convincing the guards that Haven had taken your shape, as a way of getting inside the tent? Well, what if he actually had?’

  ‘You think he took my shape?’ Stefan asked.

  ‘Not your shape,’ Arlo said to Stefan. ‘Hers.’ He pointed ahead to Jackie.

  ‘Not everybody is what they seem,’ Stefan said. ‘Isn’t that what Joan told you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Arlo replied. ‘I think she was trying to warn us.’

  They were close to the girls now, and Jackie looked as frail as she ever had, as harmless and innocent.

  ‘What is it?’ Alice asked. ‘Why are we stopping?’

  Arlo almost lost his nerve. The very thought of it was preposterous. And yet, the magic was speaking to him. As plainly and insistently as it ever had. ‘I’m so sorry, Alice,’ he said. ‘I’m so very sorry.’

  ‘For what?’ Behind her headlamp Alice’s face was dark with shadow, her eyes two black pits of confusion.

  ‘Not now.’ Jackie tugged on her sister’s sleeve. ‘Whatever this is, we can talk about it once we’re safely through the tunnel.’

  ‘No,’ Arlo replied. ‘We can’t go through the tunnel. Not together. That’s the point.’

  ‘You’re not making any sense,’ Alice said.

  ‘You don’t have to come. We’ll go without you,’ Jackie tried. A mistake. Arlo saw that straight away. A dangerous bluff.

  ‘All right then,’ Arlo challenged. ‘You two walk on alone. See what happens when you do.’

  ‘Arlo, you have to tell me what’s going on,’ Alice said.

  ‘Ask your sister,’ Arlo said, looking Jackie in the eyes. ‘Ask your sister why she isn’t moving, when she says she wants to go on so badly.’

  Alice turned to Jackie. ‘What are they talking about?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Alice.’ Stefan spoke now, his voice deep and urgent. ‘It isn’t Jackie. It’s Haven.’

  ‘No, what are you talking about? That can’t be true.’ But even as Alice shook her head, Arlo could see the truth falling into place for her, breaking her world apart. ‘No, you’re just tired. We’re nearly there.’

  ‘She’s Haven!’ Arlo repeated the message. He watched the small girl recoil from the accusation and he knew he was right. This whole time it wasn’t Madame Latitude’s plan they were playing out, but Haven’s.

  Jackie backed away from them.

  ‘No. No of course I…’ her voice broke into pieces, garbled packages of fear. ‘No…who…I can’t…I don’t even…What’s Haven?’

  Arlo turned back to Alice. He could not imagine how impossible it must be for her, how cruelly this devil had used her.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  Alice did not answer, but ran her torch slowly over her sister’s starved form. Her jaw clenched. Set and determined. ‘When?’ she hissed. ‘When did you take my sister’s form?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re—’

  ‘Where is she? Where is my sister now?’

  ‘I’m here,’ Jackie pleaded. ‘I’m right here.’

  Alice stood statue-still, considering her options.

  ‘All right. Perhaps you are telling the truth. Stefan and Arlo, drag her back to where we came from. We’ll let Madame Latitude decide. If you really are my sister, that won’t be a problem for you.’

  Stefan and Arlo stepped forward together but Jackie sprang back, and before they could take another step a great wind roared through the tunnel, so strong that they had to cling to one another to stop from falling over. Ahead of them, Jackie was untroubled by the turbulent air. She raised both hands calmly above her head and then, before their very eyes, transformed. She grew taller and broader, the skin on her face stretching and wrinkling its way to a hideous new form. Her eyes grew larger and glowed a deep dark red. Her clothes changed too, the filthy rags darkening to black, extending themselves into a hooded robe. The hands protruding from the ends of the sleeves were blueish-white, more bone than flesh, as if belonging to a skeleton.

  The tunnel’s walls began to pulse, tightening around the new form and then withdrawing.

  ‘No!’ Haven cried, in a voice that echoed down the centuries, full of dust and fury. ‘You cannot contain me. Not this time. Not now that I am this close.’

  The dark monstrous form floated into the air, more ghoul than man. In the space where he had stood was a dark huddled form, the size of a large dog. It lay motionless on the cold ground. It took Arlo a moment to realise it was Jackie.

  Alice rushed forward and scooped her sister in her arms. Haven flo
ated backwards, keeping close watch on all four children. Jackie’s eyes fluttered open for a second, then closed again.

  ‘You monster,’ Alice spat at Haven. ‘You’ll pay for this.’

  ‘I’ve been called worse and promised worse,’ Haven replied. The cramped space filled with his vicious laughter. ‘But I am sorry, for I owe you more politeness. You have done me a great service tonight, freeing me from centuries of suffering. It is only through your magic that I can travel through this tunnel. See how these walls wish to crush me. But thanks to you, they cannot.

  ‘You came to this place to do good, to rescue an innocent young girl. And instead you have unleashed hell upon the world. All of your bravery, all of your goodness and your determination counted for nothing. But do not be sad. That is how it goes sometimes. There is nothing we can do, when history is against us.’

  Alice stood up and slowly helped Jackie to her feet. Jackie swayed groggily, falling against her sister’s shoulder. ‘There is always something we can do,’ Alice said, looking Haven in the eye.

  ‘Not this time,’ Haven smiled. ‘This time you are powerless.’

  Alice’s gaze did not waver. ‘You forget you need us to travel through this tunnel. You need our magic to keep it open. So what if we were to turn and walk back the way we have come? You would have no choice but to follow us.’

  Haven’s arm shot out, the movement too quick for the eye, and took Stefan by the neck. Stefan thrashed and struggled in protest, but Haven only smiled.

  ‘You can walk with me, or I can drag you. That is the only choice you face.’ He threw back his head and again the tunnel filled with the sound of his rasping, gurgling laughter.

  ‘Come now. You have lost this battle, and there’s no shame in that. No one has ever managed to defeat me. But I have no malice towards you. Walk freely beside me and I will make you powerful beyond your wildest dreams.’

  Arlo stood firm, his feet planted, his hands ready. ‘No,’ he said. ‘That’s not how this works.’

  ‘You think I can’t hold onto two of you?’ Haven jeered. ‘Child, I have defeated armies. Come on now, walk with me. It is more comfortable than being held.’

  Haven put his arm around Stefan’s neck and gently squeezed. Stefan’s scream filled the tunnel.

  Arlo’s insides sparked with hatred. There is nothing I would not do to hurt you now. The thought pulsed in him, glowing white-hot and furious, and slowly morphed into a plan. A small smile appeared on his face. Haven’s eyes grew smaller, for a moment uncertain.

  There is nothing I would not do…thought Arlo.

  ‘What?’ the creature raged. ‘What is it you think you can do to me?’

  ‘You know exactly what I can do to you,’ Arlo replied. ‘You are right. We believe in goodness. And goodness does not yield to fear. You can drag us with you if you choose to, that is true, for you are more powerful than we will ever be. But if your world has taught me nothing else it has taught me this: magic flows to those who receive it. And it is our magic that keeps this tunnel from crushing you. So what would happen, do you think, if we were to lose that ability? What would keep you safe from the crushing weight of the earth above us?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Stefan’s voice was squeezed small by his captor’s grip.

  ‘You’re bluffing!’ Haven shouted. ‘You would kill us all. No one would be that stupid.’

  ‘Arlo.’ Alice stepped forward. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘When I first tried to use my magic,’ Arlo said, ‘I was useless. Do you remember that?’

  Alice nodded.

  ‘Yes, and it was because I was trying too hard to be magic. Trying is the problem. When we try to be magic, the magic fades.’

  ‘I was the same,’ Stefan said, beginning to understand. ‘With the logs. Harriet told me I had to stop trying.’

  ‘You know nothing of magic,’ Haven roared. ‘It is not so easily fooled.’

  ‘So why are you afraid of us trying?’ Arlo replied. ‘Stefan, Alice, Jackie, you too. It is our magic keeping the tunnel from collapsing. But only because we are not thinking about it. If we concentrate on it, if we deliberately try to keep the rocks from collapsing inwards, our magic will fade.’

  ‘So you would rather die yourselves than let me pursue my destiny?’ Haven mocked. ‘Are you really so feeble? Is your ambition that small?’

  ‘You know that if we let you through, many more will die,’ Arlo said. Although he spoke the words bravely, fear gripped him. He looked at Stefan. Tears streamed down his brother’s cheeks.

  ‘And what do you care of them?’ Haven said. ‘Do you really think any of them would do the same for you?’

  Arlo looked back at Alice. He didn’t need to ask the question. Alice understood evil better than most, and she would not let it conquer her.

  ‘Just concentrate on holding the walls away,’ Arlo instructed. ‘With all your might.’

  Arlo looked to the ceiling and spoke his thoughts in his mind. Stay back, he ordered the roof. Stay back. He imagined a tunnel of light, extending from his heart to the ceiling, straining against the tonnes of rock above them. The walls rippled and shimmered, as if turning to liquid. The space grew slowly, terrifyingly smaller, tighter.

  ‘No!’ Haven screamed, raising his hands to the rock above. His angry red eyes clouded with incomprehension. ‘What are you doing? Are you insane? You’ll kill us all! You’ll kill us all.’

  Arlo’s legs began to shake. He wanted this to stop. He desperately wanted this to stop. But before him the most remarkable thing was happening. As the walls grew closer, Haven was growing smaller. Arlo looked the monster in the eyes and saw the strength in him fading. This was not a battle of bodies. It was a battle of minds. And Haven, for all his certainty, could not guess at how far the children would take this. He did not understand them, and that meant he faced a risk he was not prepared to take. And so, before their very eyes, he was—leaving. There was no other word for it. His eyes burned less brightly, his robes slumped, as if the body beneath them was diminishing. At the end of his long black sleeves, his hands were fading to nothingness, leaving only two empty caves of complete darkness.

  ‘What’s he doing?’ Alice whispered.

  ‘He’s disappearing,’ Stefan answered, his voice edged with impossible hope. ‘He’s leaving us.’

  ‘What if it’s a trick?’ Alice asked.

  ‘It isn’t,’ Arlo replied, and so certain was his voice that nobody asked how he knew. ‘He’s gone. Haven’s gone.’

  Stefan let go first, dropping to the floor and panting with relief. The walls gave an almighty shudder, like a lung drawing breath, and withdrew. Arlo stepped forward and lifted his brother to his feet.

  Jackie clung to Alice, as if afraid she too might disappear. ‘Thank you,’ she said, turning next to the two boys. ‘Thank you all.’

  They hurried through the tunnel, none of them daring to speak or look back. As they reached the end the air filled with the scents and sounds of home: the smells of petrol and freshly cut lawns, of rain on tarmac, the sounds of cars on the highway, somewhere off in the distance a siren. The real-estate sign was just as they had left it. The four children stood together, bathed in the magical light of a streetlamp, silent, barely daring to believe they were finally safe. They hugged without speaking, for what was there to possibly say, after all that had passed between them? Events so preposterous, so unspeakable, that already they struggled to believe any of it was real.

  A taxi swept around the corner, blinding them in its headlights. The car slowed and the driver wound down the passenger-side window.

  ‘You kids all right?’ he asked, smiling at the sight of them, caught up in some midnight dare.

  ‘Just looking for our cat,’ Alice answered.

  ‘Twins, eh?’ the driver said. ‘Two lots. My brother’s got twins. You kids get home. You never know what you might come across out here.’

  The two pairs of twins watched the tail-lights move
slowly down the familiar street then turned to one another, grinning. Arlo was both desperate to return to the warm safety of his bed, and determined to cling a little longer to this last moment of magic.

  ‘Will you be okay?’ he asked Alice.

  ‘Of course we will,’ Alice said. ‘We always are.’

  They stood together in silence, the cool night mist twisting around them. A night freight train rattled noisily over the bridge at the inlet. The full moon shone bright and cheerful, oblivious.

  ‘But we beat him, didn’t we,’ Stefan said, his voice stronger now, more proud. ‘And we saved Jackie.’

  ‘Not just Jackie,’ Alice said. ‘We saved the world.’

  She laughed and looked down, swinging her foot at the gravel, as if she had made a ridiculous joke and now it embarrassed her.

  They hugged one last time, the four of them, in a small tight knot of remembering. Behind them, the tunnel had already closed over.

  ALSO BY BERNARD BECKETT

  Lester

  Red Cliff

  Jolt—finalist 2002 NZ Post Book Awards

  No Alarms

  Home Boys

  Malcolm and Juliet—winner 2007 NZ Post Book Awards; winner 2005 Esther Glen Award

  Deep Fried (with Clare Knighton)—finalist NZ Post Book Awards

  Genesis—winner 2010 young adult category of the Prix Sorcières, France; winner 2007 Esther Glen Award; winner 2007 NZ Post Book Awards

  Falling for Science: Asking the Big Questions

  Acid Song

  August

  Lullaby—finalist 2016 NZ Book Awards

  Bernard Beckett is a multi-award-winning author of books for adults and young adults and one of New Zealand’s most outstanding writers. The Tunnel of Dreams is his first middle-grade novel. He lives near Wellington with his family.

  bernardbeckett.wordpress.com

  textpublishing.com.au

  The Text Publishing Company

  Swann House, 22 William Street, Melbourne Victoria 3000, Australia

  Copyright © Bernard Beckett, 2020

  The moral right of Bernard Beckett to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted.