by Karen Cossey
“Sounds like a plan to me!” Crimson smiled, her calm and steady voice tinged with excitement. Or perhaps it was urgency—she was hard to read. “There’s a bridge a mile or two further on. Wouldn’t it be good if they fell asleep right into the water?”
“We better get to work,” I said, somehow forgetting my fear. Was it the way she smiled at me, as if she was saying this was going to be easy?
Looking in Crimson’s saddlebag I found the water bottle, as well as a small bowl. It never occurred to me then to wonder why everything was there at just the right time, but I was to learn that Crimson was always a few steps ahead of me.
I picked some flowers and mixed them into a paste with a stick, being careful to get none on myself. It didn’t take long until I had enough for all ten jogotchies.
Ten jogotchies . . . oh dear. I hadn’t thought that part through.
“Crimson, how do you think we’ll get this paste onto those jogotchies?” I asked.
“We’ll ride past them and you can dab some on their bodies.”
“And how will we do that without being caught and turned into jogotchy dinner?”
“Don’t worry Malin, we’ll go invisible—remember? We’ll be safe. Now there’s no time to talk. Put on your cloak.”
Once again, as with the river monster, calmness came upon me and I found myself doing as she said without protest.
“Don’t put your hood on until you’re on my back. Look in my bag. There’s a thin blanket that covers my whole body.”
Sure enough, I found it. It was incredibly light and made of a strange white fabric.
“Put it over me, but keep your hand on me,” Crimson said. The blanket was designed with a piece to cover Crimson’s head and body, even her saddle, and as it slipped over her, she disappeared. I gasped.
“It’s all right, I’m still here. Feel my saddle and climb up.”
I pulled myself into her saddle, outlining it with my hands first. I wasn’t invisible, so it would have looked like I was floating in mid-air—I was so amazed at this thought that I forgot about the jagotchies.
What if I did a handstand on her saddle? Wouldn’t that be something to see? I wanted to lie flat and put my arms out and pretend I was flying like a bird, but Crimson started talking, interrupting my thoughts.
“Now, pull on your hood then hold the bowl tight under your cloak. Use the rag that’s in the cloak pocket to dip into the bowl. Be careful you don’t get any on yourself. Put your hands through the loops just inside the cloak. They will help balance you. Are you ready?”
“Yes,” I lied. How could I ever be ready for this? Still, I found the loops in the cloak and did as she asked.
“When we approach the jogotchies, hold your arm out and touch as many as you can with the paste.”
With that, she was away. The jogotchies were walking two by two, and I caught my breath as we approached them. They were huge! And the only skin that wasn’t covered in thick hair was on the back of their necks. I’d have to stand up on my stirrups to dab the mixture there.
Crimson slowed down and trotted slowly past the first one. I stood up, reached out, and dabbed. Success! Almost. The jogotchy lifted his arm to scratch his neck and nearly entangled me, but I managed to pull away. We approached the next one, and the next one—it was working!
We passed by all five on one side, so now all that was needed was to go around the other side and dab the other five. Crimson rode away from the jogotchies, turning and going behind them, approaching the other side from behind again. The jogotchies were looking out for mosquitoes, thinking they were biting their necks. I would have to dab them with my left hand, which wouldn’t be so easy.
As we came up to the first one I had to duck and swerve to get the paste onto his neck. I nearly came off the saddle, but then I felt a strange sensation from the cloak, almost as if it were righting me and keeping me steady. That was good, because the other jogotchies were jumpy and I needed help to keep my balance. Finally, there was only one to go. I stood up, then disaster! He swung around just as I was reaching back from dabbing him and—whack—I fell on the ground at his feet, dazed.
I looked up to see the jagotchy reaching down for me. My hood had come off!
Terror catapulted me into action—I grabbed the dagger from inside the cloak and shoved it in his outstretched hand. He yelped and pulled back.
I pulled on my hood, jumped up and and ran away. The jogotchy was swinging around, trying to find me. I searched around, but of course I couldn’t see Crimson. Then I saw a flash a few yards to my right. Crimson. She’d managed to toss her cloak off her head so I could see her—but so could the jogotchies!
I ran and hurled myself on her back, screaming, “Go, go, go!”
She sprung away just as a jogotchy was upon us.
I pushed her hood back over her head and we raced on towards the bridge. Once there, I jumped down, trembling all over. I took Crimson’s hood off and then mine.
I’m sure Crimson could see I was shaken, but she didn’t give me a chance to complain.
“You were great Malin but now we need to give the jogotchies something to do to keep them on the bridge. Inside your cloak in the lower pocket are two bands. Put them around your wrists. They’ll give you the strength to lift those boulders over there in the water up onto the bridge.”
I was astounded. I’d never been strong; any child my age at Mastor Ashton’s could beat me in arm wrestling. If only I’d had the wrist bands back then. I imagined the boys’ reactions to my super strength as I heaved six huge boulders up the side of the bank to block the middle of the bridge.
It didn’t take me long to move all the boulders, but we only had just enough time to put our cloaks over our heads before the jogotchies rounded the corner. They were so cross, steam was coming out their ears. When they saw the boulders they became even angrier. They were heaving them off the bridge when the first jogotchy toppled over the edge and fell asleep in the water. It wasn’t deep, and he lay with his head resting on a boulder, above the water level.
The other jogotchies looked around, confused, as one by one they all fell down. When the last one slumped over the boulder in the middle of the bridge, Crimson let out a shout of victory.
“Come on, we’ll need to hurry if you want to enjoy the birthday celebrations.” she said. The idea of a birthday cheered my heart and pushed away the dregs of dread I felt when I looked at the jagotchies.
We rode back to the castle of Sir Alexander, the Duke of Llodorney. He obviously knew Crimson well and was only too pleased that the jogotchies were out of action, and sent his men to deal with them. Judging by the swords they took, I don’t think the jagotchies were going to ever wake up.
Crimson still didn’t want people to know Sir Ivor had retired, so told Sir Alexander that he’d had to leave on other business. I was introduced as Sir Ivor’s squire, and was allowed to join in the festivities. The fun and the food were irresistible, especially for a kitchen maid! I made the most of it, especially the apple pies, because I had a feeling there wouldn’t be much of this kind of cooking again for a long time.
Chapter 3. The Shadow-Bloods
The next morning we said goodbye to Sir Alexander and rode away, keeping to fields rather than the road as Crimson didn’t want anyone to see us. It was a sunny morning and I was ready for a swim when we reached a river.
“Go on then, show me your swimming skills,” Crimson said as I slid off her back. I ran into the water, then turned and splashed Crimson as hard as I could.
“Very funny, Malin. Do you want to walk the rest of the way?” she asked.
“No!”
I swam out to the middle of the river. Most girls my age couldn’t swim, but my father had thrown me in the water to cool off ever since I was little, so I was at home in the river. The current was slow and it was taking me in the direction we were heading, so I rolled over and lay on my back and let myself drift along.
Crimson was already on the other bank but f
urther behind me when I heard a shout.
“Help! Help my baby!”
I spun over and spotted. . .well, I wasn’t sure what it was, but judging by the splashes, it wasn’t your average-size baby. It must have been as big as me, and I couldn’t tell whether it was a boy or a girl. Perhaps it wasn’t even human.
I yelled out to it as I came closer, trying to get it to calm down.
It paused but then went under and didn’t surface. I took a deep breath and dove down after it. I could see it beneath me and I stretched out my hand.
Woosh! It grabbed my wrist and I felt myself being pulled down. I was going to drown! Panic seized me and I felt my air escape out my mouth.
Then I remembered the strength bands. I’d been wearing them since the day before, lifting all sorts of things that I wouldn’t usually be able to budge. When the cook wasn’t looking, I’d moved his largest cauldron full of stew onto a table. He’d had to get two men to help him move back to the fireplace—it’d made him hopping mad!
I wasn’t going to drown! I moved my hand so I was holding onto the wrist of whoever had me in their grasp and yanked at their arm, pulling them level with me. Next I grabbed at their clothes with my other hand and starting kicking myself upwards. It felt like I was holding onto a pebble, and we surfaced together then coughed and spluttered in each other’s face.
A troll. It looked like a troll! I had to get away, but it clung to me. If I let go, it’d pull me down again. So I turned and swam to the shore, yanking it behind me. I dragged it onto the sand and only then did it let me go.
I jumped up and ran. I would have kept on running except Crimson stepped in front of me and I crashed into her stomach.
“Slow down, Malin,” she said.
My words came out in gasps. “It’s . . . it’s a troll.”
“Since when do trolls come out in the middle of the day?” asked Crimson.
I looked at her face, calm and composed, with a flicker of a smile. Relief washed over me and I stood up straight.
“It’s a Shadow-blood. They’re much more frightening than trolls.” Crimson shivered.
A Shadow-blood. They lived in the mountains and were never seen by humans. If you did see one, they would hunt you down and strangle you.
I felt my neck.
“You don’t believe that nonsense about being strangled?” asked Crimson.
“But . . . but you said they were scarier than trolls,” I said. “And you shivered. Why are you scared if it’s not true?”
Crimson laughed and shook her head. “I was pulling your leg, Malin. There’s nothing to worry about. Shadow-bloods keep to themselves because people believe the strangling stories and are cruel to them. Come on. Let’s go and talk with them. You’re quite safe.”
I was still facing Crimson, my back to the Shadow-Bloods.
“There’s more than one of them?” I whispered.
“Yes, there’s the one you rescued, and his mother.”
I trembled and leaned my head against Crimson’s stomach.
“Do we have to? Can’t we just run away?”
“No, we can’t,” Crimson snorted.
I stood up slowly and turned around. The mother was big as a giant, with a long fat nose, beady eyes peeping out from under saggy skin, and what looked like moss and leaves for hair.
She smiled at me as I approached, and her cracked lips separated to reveal large, jagged, crooked teeth. She took two steps towards me and lifted me in the air and held me to her chest. Instead of being squashed to death, I was held gently, as though she thought I was as fragile as eggshells.
“Thank you,” she said, and I felt sticky, snotty tears run down the back of my neck and drip into my hair. Now I really needed a swim.
“You saved Snowdrop’s life! You saved my precious son!” she said as she put me back on the ground. I glanced at Snowdrop. He stood up to my shoulder and looked like a miniature version of his mother, except his moss was longer and plaited. His eyes were a lot bigger too—or it could have been that the skin around them wasn’t quite so saggy. He certainly didn’t look like a Snowdrop. More like a boulder-breath. He grinned and threw himself at me, knocking me to the ground.
“Ow, let go!”
“Oops, sorry. Mother told me humans are breakable. I just forgot. You were so strong, pulling me up like that.”
He looked at me, grinning so much I thought his face might split in two.
“Oh, it was nothing. It’s what anyone would do,” I said.
“No they wouldn’t,” said his mother, shaking her head so fast I felt a breeze. “Most humans would have just stood and watched Snowdrop drown. And they would have laughed, too.”
I shuffled my feet in the sand. Would I have rescued Snowdrop if I’d known he was a Shadow-blood? I couldn’t say.
Crimson looked at me, and I knew she could tell what I was thinking. She smiled at me and then turned to Snowdrop.
“What were you doing in the water, Snowdrop?” she asked.
“I went in after a slithery, but it wrapped itself around my ankle and was trying to pull me down. But then all of a sudden this boy yanked me so hard, the slithery let go and we popped to the top again.”
He waved his arms around and did a jump.
“You’re Crimson, aren’t you?” asked the mother.
Crimson nodded and Snowdrop dropped his hands and stepped closer to his mother.
“Is it true you stab naughty Shadow-blood’s eyes out with your horn?” he asked, almost in a whisper.
Crimson frowned at me when I laughed out loud.
“Of course not,” she said.
“Is it true that Shadow-bloods strangle people who stare at them?” I asked.
“Of course not,” said Snowdrop, and then grinned. “Is it true that Crimson puts a wart spell on you if you annoy your sister too much?”
Now Crimson frowned at him. “You’ve got to be kidding,” she said.
“Who needs a war horse when you’ve got a wart unicorn!” I said in-between snorts of laughter.
Crimson frowned at me so hard, I thought I better get control of myself or I would be walking for the next few days.
“Is it true,” I asked, turning my attention to Snowdrop again, “that Shadow-bloods sprinkle people’s bones on their breakfast?”
“Yes, that’s true,” Snowdrop said.
I gasped.
“Of course not!” Snowdrop said, clutching his stomach in laughter. “You should have seen your face.”
“I knew you were kidding,” I said, then tried to change the subject. “Are you as fast as they say you are?”
“Faster,” said Snowdrop. “Want to race?”
“Sure,” I said. “Race you to that tree.”
“Okay,” Snowdrop said, then took off without warning. Shadow-bloods might not be a lot of things, but they were definitely cheats!
We spent the rest of the morning racing and playing. It was a lot of fun, being a kid again. I hadn’t had that much fun since before my father died. Crimson sat in the shade and talked with Snowdrop’s mother, whose name was Pearl, while Snowdrop and I played hide and seek, climbed trees, and skimmed stones.
I was sad to see them leave after lunch, but they were on their way to visit cousins and wanted to get there before the end of the day. Otherwise they’d have nowhere to stay—no human would ever invite them in.
“You can always stay with me, except right now I don’t have a home,” I said to Snowdrop.
“Thank you, Malin. Don’t forget to come visit me sometime when you’re in Milonderland.”
Milonderland was one place I didn’t want to ever go close to, so I doubted I’d ever get to see Snowdrop again. We rode off, with me turning every few minutes to wave goodbye.
“Shadow-bloods aren’t so bad, are they?” asked Crimson.
“Nope, they’re fun,” I said. “But there is one thing Snowdrop said that has me worried.”
“What’s that?”
“Is it true that you
turn into a big green dragon when no one’s looking, and set Shadow-blood’s hair on fire?”
The next thing I knew I was tossed onto the ground. I spent half an hour walking behind Crimson before she turned, laughed and then walked beside me, telling me all the funny things she’d ever heard said about unicorns.
Chapter 4. Kolby and the Dwarves
Crimson seemed agitated as we rode on, deeper into the forest. If a river monster or a band of jagotchies hardly drew a look of concern from her, I figured there must be something dreadful on her mind. Something nerve-frying.
“Can’t you even give me a clue where we’re going?” I asked again.
“Not yet, Malin.” Crimson looked around, sniffing the air. “Please be quiet.”
We rode on in silence.
I had known Crimson for a few weeks now, but she was still as much a mystery to me as when we first met. I’d explored the cloak and discovered many of its secrets, but was no closer to understanding Crimson. She was magical and mysterious, I told myself, and decided I’d probably never understand her. Better to keep an eye out for dragons than waste time trying to figure her out. She obviously knew where we were going, as she sidestepped fallen logs and broken branches, picking out a track through the undergrowth that I wouldn’t be able to trace again even if my life depended on it. Hopefully it wouldn’t.
After a while, Crimson halted, sniffed the air then walked over to a wide, tall tree, and told me to hop down.
“Push that little branch above your head to the left,” she told me. When I finally found out which branch she meant, I pushed it gently. To my amazement, a crack appeared in the base of the tree.
“Now push the one next to it upwards,” Crimson said, tossing her head. As I pushed the branch upwards, the crack deepened and a door appeared in front of us.
“Quick,” Crimson said. “We’re being followed.”
I pushed on the door and it opened silently. Crimson stepped into the tree with me beside her. As the door shut I thought I saw a movement in the bushes behind her but my attention was snatched away by the broad spiraling staircase in front of me. Crimson looked at me and smiled, the tension falling from her face. It must have been the thing that moved in the bushes that was worrying her. Hopefully we were safe now.
