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actually planning to do.”

“Technically nor will we, Luke.”

“Oh yeah,” Luke said, scratching his chin.

“Here she comes,” hissed Cecilia, smoothing down the skirt of her dress.

Lady-Bird moved slowly as though she considered every gesture seemingly part of some larger dance. Her feathers were exquisite, softly echoing the tones of fallen leaves in autumn, and her poise unmatched by anyone Cecilia had met during her time with the dwellers. Luke was speechless in her presence.

“I’ve ordered you some tonic,” she said. “It’ll be along in a minute. It’s the best, of course!”

“I bet!” said Luke awkwardly. Cecilia nudged him.

“So what would you like to know?” said Lady-Bird. Her voice was like a deep velvet blanket edged with the tinkle of diamonds knocking against one another.

“Well, actually,” said Cecilia, “we wanted to do something a bit different to what you might be used to.”

“And what might that be?” asked Lady-Bird.

“We want to talk about the truth,” said Cecilia.

“Everyone always wants the truth,” said Lady-Bird, repositioning herself.

“Well, actually it’s us who want to come clean but we don’t want to alarm you. We believe we have a common interest and that you might be able to help us save our friend.”

Lady-Bird sat very still. It was extremely hard for Luke or Cecilia to gather what she might be thinking from the expression on her face or her body language.

“I’m listening,” she said finally.

“Some of the things that Jacques d’Or said about making people feel sad all the time, and the way he wants to do it, aren’t right,” said Luke, taking over.

“Cecilia and I have been trying to come up with a plan to help Kuffi get freed but after tonight it looks like we’d be heading straight for the Nest ourselves if we were to speak out. So we need your help more than ever.”

“Oh now, look here. Jacques d’Or is not the kind of magpie-face you want to interfere with. It’s not a good idea to mess with the man in charge, trust me; he will only bring you sorrow,” said Lady-Bird, hanging her head slightly.

Cecilia leant in and said softly, “It’s OK to be sad sometimes and because you feel it, but it’s not right for someone to make you sad all the time and for the Corvus Community to enjoy that sadness and benefit from it.”

“You don’t understand,” said Lady-Bird, getting up. “We need to keep Mr Sparks going. Without him, there will be nothing left.”

“But what about your friends, Kuffi and Madame Midnight? He’s going to put them in the Nest and then dispose of them for ever. If we let them do this now, what will there be left to hope for? They’ll keep on until there’s nothing left. And who will be there to defend you when everyone else is gone?” Luke’s words were heavy with honesty.

Lady-Bird sat back down. “You’re just kids,” she said, shaking her head. “You know you shouldn’t go poking your beaks into matters that don’t concern you. Someone might get hurt—or worse, killed!”

“But that’s just it. Before it was just Cecilia and me that it concerned—we just wanted to rescue Kuffi—but after tonight’s revelations, we’ve realised it’s a matter that concerns all the dwellers. We are going to be slaves to Jacques d’Or’s commands and you’re right, someone is going to be killed starting with: Kuffi and Madame Midnight,” Luke said.

“But what can I possibly do?”

“You’re the only one with access to the Nest,” said Cecilia, “and the only one close enough to Jacques d’Or to be trusted.”

“Impossible. Even after evening song it’s so bright in there someone is bound to see me.”

Cecilia looked at Luke and Luke looked at Cecilia, and then they both looked at Lady-Bird.

“You have got to be kidding,” she said incredulously.

“Will you help us or not?” asked Cecilia.

Lady-Bird threw back her wings and clapped her hands. A llama-face lady entered the room. “Lady Llama, bring me a change of clothes and make them inconspicuous. I have some business to attend to.”

20Twists and Turns

They left El Porto Fino and entered the cool, damp air of the tunnels. Cecilia and Luke waited for Lady-Bird as she waved goodbye to the horse-faced stallion at the door. “See you tomorrow, Salvatore.” He nodded goodbye and Lady-Bird joined their company.

“Lady-Bird,” said Cecilia. “I hope you don’t mind me asking and maybe you don’t know… but what is Mr Sparks? Is it a real living thing or just a big electricity generator?”

Lady-Bird stood before them, wrapping a black and white polka-dot scarf around her head and tying it in a bow under her beak as she spoke, “You know that buzzing you hear?” Luke nodded. “The long, constant hum that you can hear if you stop, pay attention and just listen?” They all stood listening; it sounded like an old fridge to Cecilia. “If you think about it, you realise it’s always been there, a low hum that is in sync with the pulsating flicker that comes from the lights especially when they’re low?”

“Yes…” Cecilia and Luke said in unison.

“Well, that’s him, but he’s not a machine. Mr Sparks is an ancient living thing. He’s the heart of our system, pumping light along all the tubes that light up all the tunnels: one big living electric circuit. We all have that flicker within us but Mr Sparks, he’s special.”

“Have you seen him?” Luke asked. He had the eyes of a child being told a ghost story.

“No, but I do know where he is. The generator room is not too far from the Nest, if you follow the edge of the Black Forest north. To be honest, when I had my chance to see Mr Sparks, I was afraid to look. Jacques d’Or took me to him once. He invited me inside beyond a huge iron door, and although apparently Mr Sparks is truly beautiful—perhaps the most beautiful shining thing Jacques d’Or could get his beak on—I couldn’t bear to see a living thing captured and tortured in such a way.”

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