by Alan Skinner
Wave was breathing hard, his head bent as he gasped for breath. He lifted his head and Crimson’s heart lurched. Wave’s eyes were bright were fear.
The Muddles stopped and gathered round the young surfer. He took a large swallow of air and began to speak in hoarse bursts.
‘Leaf! She’s had . . . an . . . accident!’
There was a moment’s silence, and then the Muddles bombarded the surfer with questions.
‘Where?’
‘Is she hurt?’
‘How?’
‘When?’
Crimson made her way to Wave. She could see his distress and she laid her hand on his shoulder. She turned to the other Muddles.
‘Wait! Let him catch his breath,’ she said firmly. The Muddles fell silent.
Wave’s lungs were returning to normal. He lifted his head and looked at Crimson. Tears filled his eyes.
‘Oh, Crimson! She might be . . . I couldn’t reach her . . . We have to get her . . .’ The words tumbled out of him.
The panic in Crimson’s chest grew. She forced herself to stay calm. In a voice as steady and soothing as she could manage, she asked, ‘Wave, where is Leaf? What’s happened to her?’
Crimson’s steadiness helped Wave. His voice trembled, but he answered calmly, ‘At the top of the hill, beyond the new coffee trees. There’s a steep cliff past the grove. She’s at the bottom of the cliff.’
Dread flooded into Crimson, washing away the panic and replacing it with fear. For an instant she stood frozen to the spot, unable to believe what Wave was saying.
‘I know the place,’ she said at last. ‘Do you know what state she’s in?’
Wave shook his head. ‘No, I tried to find a way down, but the cliff’s too sheer. I didn’t want to spend too much time looking. I thought it better to come and get help.’
Grunge stepped forward and patted his friend’s shoulder. ‘You did the right thing,’ he reassured him.
Crimson fought the urge to cry. Instead, she turned to the silent Muddles. ‘We have to get to her right away,’ she said.
Immediately, every Muddle moved. ‘Wait!’ yelled Crimson. ‘I know every one of you is worried about Leaf and wants to help, but it doesn’t need all of us. It’s better if just a few go.’ She surveyed the Muddles. ‘Reach, we’ll need you. We’ll have to pull her up the cliff face,’ she said.
‘Where’s Bright?’ asked Grunge. ‘She’d better come, too.’
Crimson nodded. ‘And Slight and Japes. With Wave, that should be enough of us to carry her.’
The ballerina, the magician and the jester came and stood next to Crimson and Wave.
Patch came forward. ‘I’ll not wait to be asked. I’m comin’. I cain’t jist sit ’ere and wait fer youse. Not when it’s Leaf. I ’ave ta help.’
‘Yes, you can help, Patch, but not by coming. Can you find Miniver, please, and tell her what’s happened? Tell her where we’ve gone,’ Crimson replied, giving the pirate a gentle smile.
Patch nodded. ‘If that’s what you think’s best, Crimson. I s’pose yer right. If weese don’t tell Miniver about young Leaf, weese’ll all be needin’ Bright’s bandages when Miniver finds out, I reckons.’ Patch pushed through the crowd and disappeared into the forest.
‘Right, Poke, Kite, Chip – can you please fetch some rope? Lots of it. That cliff is at least twenty metres high,’ said Grunge.
The three young Muddles nodded and sprinted towards Home as fast as their legs could carry them.
‘What’s this about Leaf?’ Bright’s gentle voice trembled as she made her way to Crimson. ‘She’s hurt?’
‘Yes. We don’t know how badly. She fell down a cliff. We need to rescue her. We need you to come. Have you got your bag with you?’
‘Yes, here,’ said the nurse, the quiver in her voice under control. ‘I hope I . . . you know . . . I’m not much good . . .’
‘You’ll be fine, Bright,’ Crimson reassured her. ‘Now we’ll probably have to carry Leaf back, so we’ll need a stretcher. We can’t wait to go back to the hospital to get one.’ She looked around. ‘I have an idea. Grunge, can you help me, please?’
A few minutes later, Crimson and Grunge had taken two poles from the drying nets and a large piece of strong cloth used to make bags for the beans. Just as they finished putting together the makeshift stretcher, the three teenagers returned with a thick coil of rope.
‘Right,’ said Crimson. ‘Let’s get Leaf.’
The rescuers moved as quickly as they could through the plantation. No one wasted breath and energy on talking. All thoughts were on Leaf. Crimson refused to believe that the Muddle scout could be seriously injured. It didn’t fit the picture in her head of Leaf. Leaf was always impeccably dressed, her scout uniform always spotless and perfectly pressed. Her nails were just the right length and precisely manicured and her make-up never more than that which befitted a fourteen-year old young lady.
Leaf loved Nature, but preferred it when Nature behaved itself. Her most essential camping items were her make-up kit, her books and the new CarryTune box the Myrmidots had invented. And her tent was unanimously considered to have the most original decoration of any scout’s tent.
Dust and dirt coated Bright’s pure white shoes as she ran. For once, she didn’t mind. Over and over she repeated to herself, ‘Leaf will be OK. I won’t faint. Leaf will be OK. I’ll remember what to do. Leaf will be OK. I won’t faint . . .’
Two things gnawed at her. The first was that no Muddle ever got sick. The hospital had never had a patient, not since Bright had been a nurse, anyway, which led Bright to worry that she might not remember how to bandage a wound, sew stitches or set a broken limb properly. She was also worried because she had a tendency to swoon at the sight of even the slightest drop of blood.
‘Nearly there,’ Wave said at last. The hill had become noticeably steeper and the rescuers strained to maintain their pace. The line of young trees ended abruptly and the hill flattened before dropping off into a cliff several paces beyond the trees. The Muddles didn’t even stop to catch their breath.
‘Where?’ asked Crimson.
‘Over there,’ said Wave, pointing to the right.
As one, the Muddles ran to the spot. For an instant, it seemed that none of them knew what to do. The truth was, none of them wanted to look over the edge.
Crimson moved forward only to feel Grunge’s hand on her arm.
‘Let me,’ he said. ‘Your fire boots aren’t the best for tiptoeing around cliff tops.’ And without waiting for an answer, he stepped past her and looked down. His heart stopped beating.
The cliff face was sheer. Anyone falling would plunge straight to the rocks below. And on those rocks, a figure was sprawled, a figure dressed in a royal-blue scout’s outfit.
Grunge turned to the others. He struggled to keep his voice even.
‘She’s there. She’s not . . . moving. We have to get down to her fast. I’ll go first and see –’ his voice faltered – ‘how bad she’s hurt. Then we can get Bright down there. Slight, tie the rope to that tree and make a harness so I can –’
A mighty roar of pain and anguish echoed up the cliff and drowned out his words.
‘Miniver . . .’ Crimson whispered, and this time she let the tears come.
Grunge started down the rope. By the time his foot touched the rock a few paces from Leaf’s still body, the bear’s roar had transformed into a ceaseless whimper. Miniver sat beside Leaf, her great brown head bent over the scout’s face.
Grunge knelt by her side. Gingerly, he reached out, reluctant to prove what he feared. His fingers touched the side of Leaf’s neck, searching for a pulse. The fear in his heart grew. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Miniver. He moved his fingers and pressed harder.
‘Miniver, she’s alive!’ he whispered to the bear. Miniver didn’t seem to hear him at first. Then, slowly, she lifted her head and fixed her large, deep eyes on Grunge. They were shiny and wet. Then she nodded her head in thanks.
> ‘She’s alive!’ Grunge yelled to the others. ‘She’s hurt but she’s alive! Make a harness and lower Bright.’
While Bright descended the cliff, Grunge spoke gently to Miniver.
‘Don’t worry, she’ll be OK. We’ll get her back to the hospital and Bright will make her better.’ He reached out and patted Miniver’s head. ‘But how did you get here so fast?’
Miniver growled and rumbled. ‘As soon as Patch told me that Leaf was hurt and where she had fallen, I ran. There was no point in going the way you did. I would have been stuck at the top of the cliff. So I came the long way.’
Grunge looked at Miniver. The long way was five or six times longer than the route they had taken. To have come that way and arrived at the same time, Miniver would have had to run at full stretch through the dense wood, swim across a small river and then make her way over the southern ridge of the hills. He wouldn’t have thought it possible.
A shadow fell over them and Grunge looked up to see Bright just above him. He guided her on to the rock and untied the harness.
‘There’s blood, isn’t there?’ said Bright.
Grunge nodded. ‘Yeah, some.’
Bright swallowed hard, steeling herself. She handed Grunge a small bottle.
‘What’s this?’ he asked.
‘Smelling salts. Just in case.’
‘You won’t need these. You’ll be cool. Leaf needs you, Bright. And there’s no better nurse in the Land. I’d rather have you here than all Brindle’s Daughters.’
The Muddles who had been to Beadleburg and seen their hospital on Brindle Island had returned full of praise for the people who cared for the sick and injured of Beadledom, dedicated people whom the Beadles called Brindle’s Daughters. One day, Bright promised herself, she would go and see for herself. Right now, Grunge was right. Leaf needed her.
Bright looked down at Leaf and the world spun. Leaf’s arms and legs were covered in cuts and blood still seeped slowly from her wounds. Worst of all, though, a large patch of her golden hair was dark and matted. The blood had run down Leaf’s neck and spread across her collar and shoulder. Bright clutched at Grunge’s arm to steady herself.
She knelt by Leaf. ‘Let’s see what’s broken first.’
Bright’s hands worked quickly and gently. She checked Leaf’s arms, from her shoulders to her fingertips; she checked Leaf’s legs, from her hips to her toes. She checked her neck, her ribs and her back. Twice when she was checking Leaf’s blood-covered arms and legs, her head spun and her vision blurred. ‘Not now. It’s Leaf,’ she kept repeating to herself, and the world steadied and her sight cleared.
Grunge felt a hand on his arm. He turned and saw Crimson standing next to him.
‘I couldn’t wait up there,’ she explained softly. ‘I had to see her. Oh, Grunge, she’s so still! I can’t see her breathing!’
‘She’s breathing,’ Grunge reassured her. ‘Bright said her breathing was soft but steady.’
Crimson squeezed Grunge’s arm, then went to Miniver and put her arm around the bear’s neck. Miniver laid her head on Crimson’s breast but her eyes never left Leaf.
All three heard Bright draw a deep breath. The nurse readied herself for what was coming: Leaf’s head, where she had bled most.
Red, bright and deep, filled Bright’s vision. The world whirled and her eyes lost focus when she saw the blood on the young scout. Everything around distorted, melting into a swirl of shapeless colours. She closed her eyes.
‘Don’t faint,’ she told herself. ‘Leaf needs help. You can’t faint. It’s not blood. It’s not blood.’ Her head steadied. She opened her eyes and looked at Leaf and immediately closed them again. ‘Yes, it is blood! I may as well face it. I’m going to faint.’
Yet Bright didn’t faint. Talking to herself constantly, she finished her examination.
‘I don’t understand it,’ she confessed, standing up and facing the others. ‘The fall should have been fatal. At best, she should have broken a lot of bones and have serious injuries. But she doesn’t.’
Relief flooded through the Muddles.
‘You mean, she’s OK?’ Grunge asked.
‘No, she’s not OK but she will be. Her left arm is broken, and her left leg, and at least two ribs. She has a very nasty head wound and all those cuts and abrasions on her arms and legs. I’ll be able to check more thoroughly when we get her to the hospital. She may have some other injuries, but I won’t be sure until she’s conscious.’
‘Oh, Miniver, she’s . . .’ That was all Crimson could manage as tears of relief trickled down her cheeks. Miniver lowered her head and her long tongue touched the tip of Leaf’s nose.
Grunge looked to the top of the cliff. ‘She’ll be OK!’ he yelled. Cheers floated down, then Slight’s face appeared.
‘What now?’ Slight yelled back.
Grunge and Bright decided it was better to carry Leaf back to Home the long way rather than risk raising her up the cliff face on the stretcher. The stretcher was lowered, and Slight and Wave climbed down the rope.
‘I’ll just put splints on her arm and leg, and then we can get her on to the stretcher,’ said Bright.
Crimson looked around. ‘Where’s Reach?’ Realisation dawned on her. ‘Oh no. I forgot,’ she said quietly. ‘Reach is terrified of heights. She’ll never . . .’
Crimson’s eyes widened in surprise. Above them, a slender pink figure was climbing down the rope as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Reach appeared to barely touch the rope as she gracefully descended. An arm’s length from the bottom she let go and landed, perfectly poised, on her toes.
‘But how . . .?’ spluttered Slight.
‘Man, that’s amazing!’ exclaimed Wave.
Grunge grinned. ‘You can open your eyes now, Reach,’ he said.
Reach opened her eyes and smiled. The smile vanished as she looked down at Leaf. The sight of her lying still and bloody shocked the ballerina. Her mind refused to believe what she saw. Leaf was her best friend; she couldn’t be lying there hurt and broken. That wasn’t like Leaf at all. She wanted to brush Leaf’s hair and straighten her clothes and wipe the blood and dirt from her face. She knelt beside her friend and helped Bright attach the splints. Very carefully, they lifted Leaf and laid her on the stretcher.
‘Crimson, I’ll help Wave, Slight and Reach carry Leaf. I think Bright should come with us. Why don’t you climb back up and then you and Japes can tell the others we’re bringing Leaf back the long way?’ Grunge said.
Crimson hesitated. She hated to leave Leaf, but Grunge was right. It would be several hours before they made it back to Home and the other Muddles would be worried.
‘Sure. I’ll see you at the hospital,’ she said. She grabbed the rope and climbed back to the top of the cliff.
‘There’s just one more thing I have to do,’ said Bright. ‘Do you still have the smelling salts I gave you, Grunge?’
Grunge took the bottle from his pocket and offered it to her. She shook her head.
‘No. You’re going to need it,’ she said.
And Bright fainted.
≈
For a third day Touch and Cres worked from early morning until evening. Not once in those three days did Copper and Dot try to take charge. On occasion they would tactfully show the young apprentices how to do something better, but they were true to their word and Touch and Cres made the decisions. At night, when they gathered at Brew’s for dinner and the Myrmidots talked of the day’s project, Copper and Dot let it be known that Touch and Cres led the work.
Copper was still against the whole idea, of course. When asked, he made it plain that he disapproved, saying they knew too little about the stone to use it, that it didn’t belong in the Land but if Achillia was going to insist, then he was going to make sure that it was as safe as it possibly could be.
Now everything was ready. Tomorrow was the big day. Tomorrow was the day that the blue stone would burn in the furnaces of Forge for the first time.
≈
It was hard work. Sweat dripped from Touch’s forehead and Cres could feel the perspiration running down her neck. The cart she and Touch pulled was heavy and cumbersome. They pushed open the double doors and dragged it into the furnace room.
Decades ago, Myrmidots had burrowed deep beneath the soil of Forge and built the massive room to contain a central furnace to power the biggest, busiest factories in Myrmidia. They had paved its floor and lined its walls with great blocks of stone and roofed it with wood and rock. Covered with soil sown with grass, the only indication of what lay underground was a large, dome-shaped mound with a squat, round chimney poking up from the grass. Even the huge doors through which an endless stream of wood and coal were delivered to the furnace had been camouflaged. If the blue fire stone worked, those doors would be closed for ever.
Not so long ago, the room had been filled with dust, twisted metal and fragments of stone. Now the rubble had been cleared and the debris removed.
‘We should have made you two clean it up,’ said Achillia, entering behind the apprentices. ‘Though, by the clouds, you probably would have made it worse.’
In the centre of the room was the furnace. The door was as high as a person and wide enough to drive a fire cart through it. Touch and Cres, helped by Copper and Dot, had rebuilt it, reinforcing it with metal they had tempered over and over. The body was twice as thick as before. It looked as if it would stand for ever.
Touch and Cres opened the heavy furnace door. For a moment, no one spoke. Then Copper broke the silence.
‘Are you sure, Achillia?’ he asked.
Achillia hesitated, then answered firmly. ‘Quite sure, Copper.’
Copper’s eyebrows arched, but he nodded to the three apprentices. They dragged the cart to the furnace. ‘OK,’ said Copper. ‘Let’s get it in there.’
It was Cres who had come up with the idea of the sliding floor. Before putting the cinerite in the old oven, they had removed the oven floor and replaced it with a sliding floor. The whole oven was then put on wheels, turning it into a large, unwieldy cart. Now all they had to do was to get the cinerite from the oven into the furnace.
