Furnaces of Forge (The Land's Tale)

by Alan Skinner

  ‘Well, I guess I’ve never really thought about it,’ Cres admitted.

  Hazlitt’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Really? Now that is extraordinary. The young generally seem to have thought about everything.’

  Edith interrupted. ‘Now, you had best get back to Forge. The wagon won’t hold that for ever. Look,’ said Edith. She pointed to the head of the pick on the fiery rock. It had already begun to melt, seeping into the rock itself.

  The apprentices thanked Edith and Hazlitt, several times, in fact.

  ‘Why don’t you come with us?’ asked Cres.

  ‘I think we shall go back to The Place,’ said Edith. ‘Now that we know what happened to Amelia, we should return and let the others know. You will convey our sincere apologies to everyone for the trouble she caused, won’t you?’

  ‘Of course,’ Cres assured them.

  ‘Now, you’d better pack and be on your way, my dears. We wouldn’t want the stone to melt the wagon and be let loose on the Land, would we?’ said Hazlitt.

  Touch and Cres were soon ready, with the wagons hitched to their bikes. After another round of thanks to Edith and Hazlitt, they pedalled away from the cave. Touch didn’t even feel the pain of his burns. They were going back to Forge with their prize. They would be redeemed. They would be famous.

  As soon as the young apprentices were out of sight, Hazlitt and Edith hurried through the dark tunnels until they came to a large cavern with three connected rooms. Quickly, but without haste, they packed provisions and spare clothes into two bags.

  ‘We’ll not make it to Mint tonight, Edith my dear,’

  ‘There’s that charming little lakeside spot we saw a few days ago, near the meadowland. We’ll stay there tonight and start early tomorrow,’ she replied.

  ‘Such a pity we can’t get the mounts through the tunnel,’ Hazlitt mused ruefully.

  ‘You don’t get enough exercise as it is, Hazlitt. The walk is good for you. And they’re quite safe where they are. Ready?’

  ‘When you are, my dear. Always when you are,’ Hazlitt replied.

  ‘Let’s away, then,’ said Edith.

  They picked up their packs and walked back the way they had entered. As they left the cave, Edith gave a sharp, trilling whistle. The click of claws on stone followed them down the long tunnel.

  Chapter 5

  Cinerite

  Touch and Cres rode all through the day and the night. They made it to Forge a couple of hours before sunrise. They were tired and hungry but elated. Touch thought it unfortunate that they had arrived back in Forge when everyone was still asleep. He had dreamed of making a grand, triumphant return to cheers and congratulations.

  They went straight to their workshop. The cinerite would be fine where it was for a while longer. Once they had had some sleep and reported to Beatrice, they would work out how to store it safely. They unhitched the wagons, bid each other goodnight and went to their beds. They agreed to meet at Beatrice’s office at ten o’clock. They hoped she would see them.

  The next morning, Cres entered the Town Offices ten minutes early. She climbed the spiralling stone staircase to the next level. The large wooden door to Achillia’s office was directly opposite the staircase. Cres ignored it and walked along the corridor to the left and stopped at the next door, where Touch was already waiting.

  ‘Morning,’ said Touch. He smiled and his face glowed. ‘Since we’re both here, we may as well knock.’

  ‘Do you think she knows we’re back?’ asked Cres.

  ‘This is Beatrice we’re talking about. Of course she knows we’re back.’ Touch grinned. ‘I’ll bet she knew even before she woke up and knew she knew.’

  Touch knocked. From within came Beatrice’s beautiful but toneless voice. ‘Come in.’

  They pushed open the door and entered. Beatrice was at her desk. She indicated the visitors’ chairs.

  ‘Touch, Cres. Good morning. Please sit.’

  When they were seated, she said, ‘I saw your wagons. I didn’t look inside. Judging by the heat coming from the metal one, I assume you were successful.’

  Touch leaned forward in his chair. ‘We brought it back, Beatrice. Enough cinerite to power all the factories of Forge,’ he said, with perhaps a little too much pride.

  ‘Cinerite?’ said Beatrice. ‘You’ve named it?’

  ‘Well, not us, actually. That’s what Hazlitt and Edith told us it was called,’ Cres explained. ‘We met them at the cave of blue fire. They’re Myrmidots, like us. Well, sort of.’

  Beatrice looked at her hands. She was silent for a few moments before speaking softly to herself. ‘Myrmidots. Like us.’ She sat back in her chair. ‘Tell me all about your adventure,’ she said.

  Touch and Cres did just that. For the next quarter of an hour, they recounted everything that had happened to them on their journey to the High Mountains. When they had finished, Beatrice stood and stared out the window at the town of Forge. After a couple of minutes, Touch and Cres began to feel uncomfortable. This wasn’t quite the reception they had expected.

  At last Beatrice turned back to the young apprentices.

  ‘Now what?’ she asked.

  ‘Excuse me, Beatrice,’ said Cres politely. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It doesn’t help anyone just to have your cinerite here, sitting in that wagon. And I dare say it will find its way out of that quite soon. Now that you have it, how do you intend to use it to power the factories?’

  Touch told her the same idea he had told Hazlitt.

  ‘All our factories are powered by a single, central furnace. We’ll reinforce the furnace and make a few alterations. It will only take a couple of days to do it. It’ll be brilliant, Beatrice!’ he concluded.

  ‘I trust it will be, Touch,’ said Beatrice.

  Touch and Cres exchanged grins.

  ‘But,’ Beatrice continued, ‘you are still apprentices. Therefore, Achillia has appointed Copper to be in charge. You will report to him. I’ll tell him you’re back and he can meet you at the factory.’

  Touch’s grin disappeared.

  ‘That’s all, I think. You may go to work,’ said Beatrice. She took up her pen and began writing.

  Touch and Cres slid off their chairs. Obviously, the meeting was over. Touch felt a little out of sorts. He had expected more praise and even a word of congratulation from Achillia.

  ‘You should put something on those burns, too, Touch,’ Beatrice added, without looking up.

  ‘Yes, Beatrice,’ said Touch. Cres opened the door and they stepped out of the office. They were just about to close the door behind them when Beatrice called out again.

  ‘Hazlitt never told you what the liquid was that was he poured on the stone, did he?’

  Cres put her head round the door and met Beatrice’s gaze. ‘No, he didn’t.’

  Beatrice nodded as if she had expected the answer. She bent over her desk and continued writing. ‘Thank you, Cres.’

  Touch didn’t speak a word when they left the Town Offices. The pair walked out into the bright sunshine and headed towards the factories. Cres knew he was feeling let down. To tell the truth, she herself felt a bit disappointed. It was all such an anticlimax. But Cres preferred life to be happy and she tried her best to raise Touch’s spirits.

  ‘It really is good news about working with Copper. Remember when we were at Tinker School? We hoped that when we became apprentices we’d get him as our master. And once we get the furnace right, everyone will know it was us and they’ll forget about the explosion and all the other things. And Beatrice was concerned about your hand and she almost never says anything caring like that. I think we’ve made an impression, Touch.’

  Touch remained silent. Hands in the pockets of his overalls, he walked with his head down. Cres struggled to think of what to say next to cheer him up. Side by side they walked on, each deep in their own thoughts.

  ‘Good day to you, Touch. Lovely day, isn’t it, Cres?’

  Startled, Touch and Cres looked up. Leon
ardo, head of the Engineers’ Council, nodded to them. Leonardo was among the oldest Myrmidots but he was still sprightly, and his tall, well-built frame gave the impression that he could match any apprentice in a good day’s work. He had deep-set eyes, topped by grey, bushy eyebrows, and a long, thin beard trailing from his chin.

  Neither could remember an engineer, let alone Leonardo, greeting an apprentice during work hours. It took a moment for the pair to recover their wits.

  ‘Ah, yes it is, sir,’ replied Cres.

  ‘How are you, sir?’ asked Touch.

  ‘Grand, Touch, just grand. As you are, I expect,’ Leonardo said and he chuckled to himself and walked on.

  Touch and Cres looked at one another. Touch scratched his head, puzzled.

  ‘Do you think that’s good?’ he asked Cres. ‘I mean, Leonardo speaking to us. It isn’t normal, is it?’

  ‘No, but it was very nice of him. I think it must be a good sign,’ said Cres.

  They crossed the street. As they approached Bellow’s, Jakob, the waiter with the stern and forbidding face, was busy with his broom. Touch and Cres stepped off the footpath to walk around him. Jakob scowled and pointed the handle of the broom at them.

  ‘No need! No need!’ he cried. His scowl transformed itself into a broad, beaming smile. ‘Please, walk on the footpath! I can sweep it again!’ His body bent in a short bow and Touch and Cres heard him say to himself, ‘Such spirit!’

  Bewildered, they continued on. As they made their way to their wagons, every Myrmidot they passed greeted them cheerily. Engineers who, a few days before, would just have shaken their heads and muttered under their breath, now waved and made pleasant remarks. Apprentices who had ignored them until now called out their names and wished them a good morning. It was all very unsettling.

  ‘Cres,’ Touch said, ‘you don’t suppose they’ve heard . . .’

  ‘I would say that’s likely, Touch,’ she replied. ‘Look.’

  There is a word in Myrmidia for a group of Myrmidots: a ‘fix’. And, standing at a respectful distance, a very large fix of Myrmidots had gathered round their wagons. When they saw Touch and Cres approach, the Myrmidots clapped, and some even cheered. Many came forward and hugged them.

  ‘Well done!’ said one.

  ‘It must have been quite a journey!’ said another.

  ‘You’ll have to come down to Brew’s tonight and tell us all about it!’ said a third.

  ‘How’s the hand, Touch?’ asked yet another.

  Touch began to feel much happier. He acknowledged everyone’s greeting and returned every hug. In fact, it surprised him when he realised that he was feeling a little self-conscious. Cres, too, found herself embarrassed at all the attention. She was relieved when Copper appeared and held up his hand for some quiet.

  ‘Friends, I am sure that Touch and Cres appreciate your congratulations. Yes, they did travel to the High Mountains and they did bring back some of the rock of blue fire. And yes, they have a plan to use it to provide endless power in our furnaces. And yes, I am sure they will have time to tell you all about their adventure when working hours are over. Right now, we have work to do.’

  There is nothing Myrmidots understand so well as having work to do. With calls of ‘good luck’ and a few extra hugs, they drifted back to their own work, leaving Copper with the two apprentices.

  ‘Well, youngsters, let’s go in and plan how we’re going to do this,’ said Copper. ‘The day’s half over –’ though it was not yet eleven o’clock – ‘and we have a lot of work ahead of us.’

  They followed Copper into the workshop. In the middle was a large drafting desk. From a drawer that ran the full width of the desk, Copper took a new sheet of paper.

  Copper spoke as he fixed the paper to the desk. ‘I have a few questions before we start planning. We’ll just wait for – ah, here she is,’ he said.

  Dot walked towards them from the other side of the workshop.

  ‘Hello, Cres. Hello, Touch,’ she said . ‘I’m glad you’re back safely.’

  Touch’s euphoria disappeared. Having Copper in charge was one thing; having a third-year apprentice who was entitled to tell Touch and Cres what to do was worse. Even if it was Dot. ‘It isn’t fair,’ he thought. ‘Why doesn’t anyone trust us?’

  ‘OK,’ said Copper. ‘Touch, Cres, this is your plan, not mine, nor Dot’s. We’re here to help, not to tell you what to do. Why don’t you explain to me what you intend and then you can draft the plans. Dot will assist you with that.’ As long as I see you’re doing things the right way I’ll not interfere.’

  Touch couldn’t believe it. Copper was leaving it to Cres and him to decide. And Touch had no intention of letting Copper regret his decision. He looked at Cres and saw the mixture of relief and determination in her eyes. This time they’d get it right. But there was something Touch had to know.

  ‘Are you saying that you agree with this, Copper? I sort of thought that you weren’t in favour of bringing the blue fire to Forge.’

  ‘I wasn’t and I’m still not, Touch,’ said Copper. ‘But it’s been done and the best I can do is to make sure it is as safe as it can be. Now, tell us what you have in mind.’

  Together, Touch and Cres told Copper the plan. The engineer listened without interrupting. When the apprentices had finished, he nodded and said, ‘Sounds fine. Let’s get to it.’

  ‘Hadn’t we better move the stone to a safer container first?’ asked Cres. ‘I’m not sure how long it will last in that one.’

  ‘That old cast metal oven from the old foundry should do,’ Copper suggested. ‘How do you intend to get it from the wagon into the oven?’

  ‘Tongs,’ replied Touch. ‘We’ll lift it with iron tongs.’

  ‘I think what Copper meant, Touch, was: how do we get it from the wagon into the oven without it bursting into flames?’ Dot said.

  Touch and Cres looked at her blankly.

  ‘Blue fire rock explodes into flames when it’s exposed to air. As soon as we unseal the wagon we’ll be in all sorts of trouble,’ Copper explained.

  ‘Of course,’ said Touch, embarrassed. ‘But we hadn’t quite worked out that bit of the plan yet.’

  Cres raised her hand hesitantly. ‘Can I make a suggestion?’ she asked. ‘Why don’t we just put the whole wagon in? The oven’s big enough. That’ll give us a few days to work out how to move it safely.’

  Copper looked at her for a few seconds, then grinned. ‘Sounds like a good idea to me, Cres. You OK with that, Touch?’

  Relief spread across Touch’s face. He gave Cres a look of gratitude. ‘Very OK,’ he said.

  ‘Maybe we should have asked Hazlitt and Edith some more questions,’ said Cres.

  ‘That might have been wise,’ Copper agreed, ‘but I have a feeling they told you just what they wanted you to know.’

  ‘Too late now,’ said Touch. ‘They’re probably on their way back to where they came from. We’ll never see them again, I bet.’

  ≈

  North-east of Home, the land swells into gentle hills covered in coffee trees. The hills rise and dip, falling away into a lush green valley that extends all the way to Beadledom. At the northern end of the valley is a meadow, with long green grass and a blanket of wild flowers. At the top of the meadow, hidden among the trees, is a beautiful, small lake fed by a trickling stream that escaped from the Salvation River many kilometres away. As the day broke, the first rays of the sun lit two figures by the side of the lake, washing their hands and faces.

  ‘Those two should be back in Forge by now. Provided they didn’t dilly-dally,’ said Edith. ‘Oh! That’s cold!’

  ‘If they dilly too long or dally too much, they’ll find themselves in more than just hot water.’ Hazlitt chuckled.

  ‘I wish we had hot water,’ Edith sighed. ‘Maybe we should have brought a Beadle or two with us.’

  ‘Don’t worry. We shall soon have one.’

  ‘We will, won’t we?’ said Edith, brightening considerably.
<
br />   They finished washing and headed back to the campsite.

  ‘What do you say we have a peek at the Muddles before we head off? They’ll be harvesting that coffee of theirs and the plantation isn’t that far off,’ Hazlitt suggested.

  ‘Very well. But only a quick peek. All Muddles look the same to me,’ Edith replied. And they burst out laughing.

  ≈

  The morning was filled with the chatter of Muddles as they walked to the plantation. The crisp, early air rang with their laughter, as clear and sharp as the call of the bellbirds that dotted the orchards. No one noticed the two figures hidden among the trees on the ridge to the north, watching the Muddles make their way to the plantation for the day’s work. Of all the Muddles, only Crimson felt a burden that morning. The unexpected pain of the day before had worried her. Today, that worry was made worse by a familiar but unwelcome feeling.

  It had descended on her as she’d been making her way through the woods. It was the same feeling she’d had in the High Mountains, when Amelia had been watching her. Crimson stopped and scanned the woods and hills around her. Then, as abruptly as it had come, the feeling disappeared.

  ≈

  Hazlitt and Edith kicked their mounts to an easy trot and headed due east, towards Mint, the second town of Beadledom.

  Chapter 6

  A Rescue

  For the rest of that day, Crimson helped with the harvest alongside her friends. The work and the companionship soon banished the memory of yesterday’s pain and the morning’s uneasy sensation. An hour or so past noon, not long after the Muddles had finished lunch and gone back to their jobs, Reach and Crimson were lifting one of the large buckets of freshly picked cherries when Wave flashed into the clearing on his bike. He had been riding hard and sweat dripped from his face on to his shirt. He brought his bike to a stop, the back wheel locking and sliding. A cloud of dust erupted around him.