by Julie Hunt
When I began walking towards Shadow, whispers ran through the crowd.
‘It’s her. It’s the story waif!’
‘We’re in for another telling.’
‘Quick, let’s get to the Undercavern. Let’s get good seats.’
A few people began hurrying back through the tunnel entrance. Others sat down, as if they expected me to begin a story immediately. For some reason, Shadow raised his hackles. He sniffed the air and whined. The sleek, too, was uneasy. He ran to Shadow and scrambled up his leg and onto his neck, where he stood with his back arched and his tail flared.
‘It’s all right, Sleek,’ I said. ‘I’m not going to tell any stories.’
I turned to the crowd. ‘There’ll be no telling,’ I said. ‘Not here and not in the Undercavern. We are leaving.’
As I spoke, something in the air changed and a sharp salt breeze blew around my ears. Shadow growled and lowered his head, and Siltboy quickly climbed up his neck, pulling me after him. The breeze grew stronger, and somewhere far away I thought I heard howling. The crowd heard it, too. People turned from us and looked towards the tunnel, because that’s where the sound was coming from.
‘It’s just the wind,’ someone said. ‘A squall coming up from the gorge. It happens at this time of the year.’
Then Longreach was beside us, stretching up and handing me the cow charm.
‘Keep the charm, Peat. Your journey isn’t over yet,’ he said quietly.
STAKED
We headed down a steep slope where the trees grew close together and the undergrowth was thick. Branches cracked and twigs whipped our faces as Shadow slid downhill on his haunches. We leaned forward along his neck and kept our heads low. The howling faded behind us, but the sleek crouched on Shadow’s head, urging him forward, and only when we’d reached the bottom of the hill did his tail settle.
We came to a halt beside a fast-flowing creek. The sleek slipped to the ground and sniffed the air, his ears twitching. We were in a deep gully, and apart from running water, there was no sound. The sleek began following the creek downstream.
‘Shouldn’t we go back to the signpost?’ I said.
I wished I had asked the seed-reader about Eadie. If a year or more had passed since we were in Hub, Eadie could be far away. She could have gone anywhere.
‘Hush,’ said Siltboy.
The sleek shot me a glance over his shoulder.
‘I don’t think Eadie would have come this way,’ I said. ‘This isn’t a track. We should go back and ask.’
‘No back-looking,’ said Siltboy. ‘Sleek knows. He has creature-craft and mapwork in his mind.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ I replied as Shadow followed the sleek.
The gully was narrow and dark, and the further we went the darker it seemed to become. I thought it was probably just the trees blocking the light, and the fact that we were near the end of the day, but I didn’t like it, and as we travelled along I became more and more convinced that we were going the wrong way.
‘You is tired, Peat,’ Siltboy told me. ‘Today is giant day, so big and brimful. One moment you burst with sister joy, and next moment you is lost again and back on the questing road.’
‘We’re not even on a road,’ I said. ‘That’s the problem. Let’s stop.’
‘No talk of stop. We follow Sleek.’
The sleek flicked his ears, irritated by the conversation. His tail twitched.
‘How do we know he’s heading in the right direction?’
‘Settle, Peat,’ Siltboy said. ‘You is churned.’
‘I’m not churned,’ I snapped. ‘I don’t like this valley, and I don’t think we’re going the right way.’
The sleek stopped and stared at me, then he dived into the creek and quickly reappeared on the far bank. Shadow followed, clearing the water in a single bound.
‘Don’t doubt Sleek,’ Siltboy whispered. ‘He goes by shortcut.’
Shortcut to where?
We continued on the far side of the creek. The bank was rocky and Shadow had to pick his way over fallen logs and debris that looked as if it had been left there by a flood. It was evening when the creek met up with a river. It might have been the same river that Eadie and I had travelled to reach Hub, but I couldn’t be sure.
‘If this is the river Eadie and I came on, the sleek must be leading us all the way back to the marshes,’ I told Siltboy.
Why would Eadie have gone back there? That’s the very place she wanted to escape.
‘Let’s find a camp site,’ I said. ‘It’s getting dark.’
As I spoke, the sleek came to a halt so quickly that Shadow almost trod on him. He gave me a killing look, then he leapt up onto some boulders above the riverbank. From there he glared down at me, seething.
Siltboy turned around. ‘Get cheese, Peat,’ he said. ‘Sleek needs peace-offering.’
I took Marlie’s cheese out of his bag and broke off a piece. Siltboy reached up, and the sleek snatched it without taking his eyes off me. From where I was I couldn’t see what his tail was doing, but I expected the worst.
‘You’d better tell Shadow to sit,’ I whispered. ‘We need to get off.’
‘Drop,’ Siltboy said.
I climbed to the ground and backed away, and I told Siltboy to do the same.
‘Get down,’ I said. ‘Or he’ll go for you instead of me.’
Siltboy didn’t move. Instead, he looked up at the sleek and began singing a strange high-pitched tune.
Praise to the sleek,
Bright-wild, with mind of fire . . .
To my surprise the sleek pricked his ears, listening, and his wild eyes grew calm.
Praise to our gallant guide
Who goes by dart and dash
With wit-work flashing
Praise to the sleek!
The sleek closed his eyes and purred.
‘Siltboy, that’s amazing!’
I wished I hadn’t said anything, because as soon as I spoke the sleek was alert again. He crouched for a moment, then he pounced, landing on Siltboy’s shoulder. I cringed, expecting that Siltboy would be swiped in the face, but the sleek’s claws were not drawn – and instead of scratching Siltboy, he patted his cheek with a soft paw before taking the lead again.
‘Mount, Peat,’ Siltboy said. ‘Our guide is waiting.’
Shadow turned and gave me a nudge as I climbed back on. I said nothing as we continued on our way.
We had not gone far when the sleek let out a shriek and leapt high in the air. He had been trotting along happily ahead of us at the river’s edge, but now his fur stood on end and he showed the whites of his eyes. He backed away, staring at a spot near the water, and when he was close to us he turned and scrabbled up Shadow’s leg, sitting behind me, quivering with fear.
Shadow gave a low growl, and I could feel his muscles bunching, but I couldn’t see anything ahead except rocks and some soft mud at the water’s edge.
Siltboy took out his slingshot.
‘Let me look,’ he said. He climbed to the ground and crept towards the place where the sleek had been. ‘Nothing,’ he yelled. ‘Just dent in sand.’
‘A dent in the sand? Why would that scare the sleek?’
Siltboy shrugged. He whistled and Shadow skirted the spot by the water, keeping as far away as possible. Once Siltboy was back on, he bounded ahead, crashing through sticks and branches that had been washed up on the riverbank.
The moon came up and lit our way for a while before disappearing behind dark clouds. The sleek was restless. He scrambled over me and Siltboy and sat at the front, peering ahead, then he climbed over us again and sat behind, making anxious cricking sounds in the back of his throat. Shadow stumbled in the dark, but he didn’t slow down. I closed my eyes and hung on. I was getting tired.
‘How much further?’ I asked.
‘Only Sleek knows,’ Siltboy replied. ‘He has knowledges we don’t. He has wit-ways—’
Suddenly Shadow yelped and came to a
halt, raising his front right paw.
Siltboy was on the ground in a second. ‘My hound is hurt,’ he cried. ‘He is staked!’
The sleek hissed and paced up and down, impatient with the delay, as we examined Shadow’s paw. A sharp piece of stick was lodged deep between the pads.
‘In the Ever my hound could never be hurt,’ Siltboy said.
‘He’ll be all right. It’s not serious,’ I told him, hoping it was true. I wished I had learned from Eadie. She would know exactly what to do in this situation. She would find the right plant and heal Shadow in two minutes.
I tried to get hold of the end of the stick, but the poor beast howled and pulled away. He limped to the water’s edge and had a drink, then he found a bit of clear ground between the rocks and lay down.
‘I sorrow for you, Shadow.’ Siltboy sat down beside him, stroking his shoulder and staring at the injured paw. ‘Wounds is the way of all battles.’
The Great Hound gave him a lick, then he licked his paw and laid his head on the ground with a sigh. Siltboy rubbed his ears. ‘We should fire and food, Peat,’ he said vaguely.
‘Tomorrow,’ I replied, as I lay down beside him.
The sleek came and sat nearby, looking peevish.
‘We can’t keep going, Sleek,’ I said. ‘Shadow’s hurt and we’re all exhausted.’
I lay listening to the river rushing past, and I was just dropping off to sleep when Siltboy spoke.
‘I is wondering on the tale, Peat. You never made an end to it.’
‘What tale?’ I yawned.
‘The story with me and Shadow and them fighting giants. You didn’t finish it.’
‘I did. You know how it ended.’
‘But what happens to the mother?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know, Siltboy. Eadie didn’t tell me what happened to your mother. She must have come back and seen that the fort had been taken over by the other giant. Maybe she searched for her husband’s body.’
‘But did she look for me?’ His voice was tight. He was almost pleading.
‘Of course she did. She looked for you everywhere. She went all over the country, but the Siltman had left, travelling north, and he had taken you with him.’
Siltboy was quiet for a long time.
‘I wish I asked the seed-reader,’ he said. ‘She might know where my mother is.’
‘The fortune teller sees the future, not the past, Siltboy. And your mother is long past. This all happened in ancient times. You won’t find your mother now.’
‘You is sure?’
‘I’m sure. Sorry, Siltboy, but that’s the way it is.’
Shadow gave a little whimper in his sleep, and Siltboy turned and buried his face in the dog’s shaggy coat.
THE EVERLASTING DAISY
The sleek woke us at dawn. His fur stood on end again and his tail was fully flared. I rubbed my eyes and went down to the water to wash my face, and he jumped up and down on the spot, chittering in agitation. Then I saw what had upset him – a paw print, a big one! I let out a cry and Siltboy came running.
‘Be it Shadow’s?’ he asked.
I shook my head. It was smaller than Shadow’s, but still much bigger than a normal-sized dog.
‘Hound of Siltman!’ Siltboy breathed. ‘Maybe that dint I seen yesterday was one like this, only more washed away.’ He turned to me in despair. ‘Everything is wrong-going, Peat. My hound is hurt. My mother is lost. And now we is lost as well.’ He shook his head. ‘And the foreteller at them markets said I’d have a long and happy life.’
‘Long,’ I said, ‘but maybe not so happy.’
‘I is stricken.’ Siltboy’s eyes filled up with tears.
I stared at the paw print and tried to think. ‘Don’t worry, Siltboy,’ I said. ‘The footprints of the Siltman and his dogs arrive three weeks before he does, and probably longer if he’s still got the Swoon on him. We’re safe. He’s nowhere near us. Let’s go.’
I was trying to convince myself as much as Siltboy.
We couldn’t ride Shadow with his injured paw, so we walked. The sleek ran ahead, looking over his shoulder and clicking to himself when we didn’t keep up. Shadow limped along and Siltboy limped beside him, not because his own foot was sore but because he felt for his hound. Every time Shadow put his paw to the ground, Siltboy winced and gave a little sigh of sympathy.
I was hungry, and I hoped the sleek would let us stop somewhere along the way. We could eat Marlie’s cheese, and I thought he might even get us some other food – those weeds from the riverbed or something similar.
The sun had not been up for long when I heard voices on the river behind us. I looked back and saw a boat moving swiftly downstream. The decks were empty, but a man stood at the helm, steering. He was too far away for me to see his face, but I recognised the boat. It was the bread boat!
‘Siltboy, we’re near Mother Moss’s!’ I cried.
The man gave a wave as the boat swept past, carried by the current.
The sleek picked up his pace and disappeared without waiting for us to follow. It didn’t matter – I knew which way to go.
‘Just keep following the river!’ I told Siltboy as I ran ahead.
Soon I smelled fresh bread, and when the landing came into view I jumped for joy. I could see the woe tree leaning out over the water and Mother Moss standing next to the oven with her hands on her hips. She looked a little bit older and smaller, but apart from that nothing had changed.
An upturned reed-boat lay on the riverbank. Eadie! My stomach clenched, but I was relieved as well – the sooner I gave Eadie the flower, the sooner I could be back with Marlie.
The bread boat was just leaving. The man on the deck saw me and yelled to Mother Moss, ‘Your helper has returned, Mother!’
Mother Moss looked bewildered. When the man pointed to me, she gasped and slapped her hand on her heart, releasing a little puff of flour.
‘Oh, joy! How is it possible?’ She opened her arms and I ran into them. She was warm and soft and she smelled of fresh bread and honey. ‘I never thought I’d see you again, Peat!’ she cried.
She held me away from her and stared at me as if she was seeing a ghost, then she patted both my cheeks and ran her baker’s hands over me, kneading me to make sure I was real.
‘Ah! The shock of it. I have to sit down.’ Her face broke into a wide smile. ‘How you’ve grown, my girl!’ She shook her head in disbelief and hugged me once more. ‘But how on earth . . . ?’ she whispered. ‘I thought you were lost forever. Come, sit by me.’
She led me to the bread bench and pulled up some seats.
‘I blamed myself, little Peat. I should never have let Eadie take you.’
‘You couldn’t have stopped her, Mother Moss.’
Mother Moss shook her head again. She put her big floury arm around me. ‘There are things I need to tell you,’ she said. ‘You’re still only a child, Peat, and you can’t understand, but there was an old agreement made long ago . . .’
‘I do understand, Mother Moss. I know about the bargain.’
‘Eadie told you?’
‘No. The Siltman did.’
Mother Moss’s mouth fell open.
‘Eadie told me he took you, but I scarce believed her,’ she whispered. ‘She came back here after you were gone.’
‘Is she here now? I saw her boat on the bank.’
‘No, my dear. Another marsh auntie brought that craft to me. All the rules have changed. There’s a new Great Aunt, a woman called Ivy who was living on one of the Hermit Islands in the Far Reaches. The aunties can now come and go as they please.’
‘Where did Eadie go?’
‘She went back to the marshes. One of the aunties took her, as she was too weak to paddle.’
Too weak to paddle? I couldn’t imagine that.
‘Was she sick?’ I asked.
‘Not sick. She was growing old. But tell me, Peat, did the Siltman take you to his realm?’ Her eyes looked worried and she pulled me close.<
br />
‘Yes, he did.’ I let myself lean against her. ‘He and his pack of dogs. They took me across the Silver River to a country by the sea.’
‘But you escaped? How can that be?’
‘It was Siltboy who did it. He won the wit-battle, and that’s how we got away.’ I knew I wasn’t making much sense. ‘He’ll be here soon. Siltboy helped me, and so did Shadow and the sleek. They’re my friends.’
I turned and looked up the river.
‘Siltboy!’ I yelled. ‘Shadow!’
Mother Moss gasped and slapped her chest a second time when my companions appeared. ‘Goodness,’ she cried. ‘One miracle follows another. What an extraordinary dog!’
Shadow lowered his head and gave Mother Moss a gentle nudge.
‘This is Shadow,’ I said. ‘He’s a Great Hound.’
‘I can see that,’ Mother Moss replied. ‘Oh, but he’s hurt.’
‘He is staked,’ Siltboy said sadly.
Mother Moss carefully lifted Shadow’s huge paw. ‘Go and get me some horehound, Peat. And some coltsfoot, too, if you can find it.’
I looked at her blankly.
‘Didn’t Eadie teach you?’ she asked.
‘I wasn’t with her for long. She only taught me the stories.’
Mother Moss gently lowered Shadow’s paw and gave him a pat. ‘I won’t be long, my friend,’ she said. ‘There’s some in Cara’s paddock. Peat, would you mind putting the kettle on the fire? I’m going to need hot water.’
Mother Moss’s cooking fire was next to the oven. I added some sticks and did as she asked, and by the time she returned the water was boiling. She was carrying a weed with small white flowers and crinkly leaves. She broke off some pieces and put them in a pot, then she poured in the hot water, adding a pinch of salt.
‘I learned this when I was in the marshes,’ she said, adding cold water and testing it with her finger. I watched her tear a flourbag into long strips to make a bandage. She lifted Shadow’s huge paw and placed it in the pot.
‘There’s a good pup,’ she said. ‘This won’t hurt a bit. Just let it soak for a moment.’
