Sky Song

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Sky Song Page 5

by Abi Elphinstone


  ‘Have you checked for bears?’ she whispered.

  ‘Just get inside,’ Flint hissed, and he closed the door behind them. ‘Welcome to the Labyrinth.’ He motioned for Eska to stay where she was, then he hurried down some earthen steps and returned a few minutes later. ‘The dogs sleep in kennels down below – they don’t much like heights, except Pebble – but the rest of the Fur Tribe,’ Flint winked, ‘we go up.’

  Eska wiggled her toes inside her boots. Warmth. Safety. And the possibility of friends. Her body tingled at the thought of it all.

  Flint grabbed hold of the rope ladder hanging down in front of them and placed a boot on the first rung. He climbed a few steps, then glanced back. ‘Don’t say we talked about inventions. Or magic.’ He paused. ‘Or the Sky Gods.’

  Eska clutched the rope. ‘What shall I say we talked about instead then? If they ask.’

  ‘Spears.’ Flint glanced up the ladder. ‘And, um, killing things.’

  Eska climbed beneath Flint, rung after rung, until she felt sure the tree couldn’t possibly go any higher, but on it went, tiny lamps flickering from the wooden walls around them. Eska tried to plan her words as best she could so that Tomkin might listen and understand when he saw her, then she realised how high up she was and began concentrating extremely hard on Pebble’s head, bouncing up and down in Flint’s hood, to avoid catching sight of the long drop down.

  She stopped dead. There were whispers coming from above. It sounded like two boys.

  ‘It’s Flint,’ the first hissed. ‘He’s back!’

  A second voice echoed down the tree. ‘Let me see, Lofty – shift over.’

  ‘Owwww, Inch, you’re standing on my hand.’

  There was a scuffle, then two faces peered over the edge of a wooden platform that ran around the inside of the tree. Eska craned her head to get a better view. The boys’ faces were identical – ruddy cheeks, curly brown hair, matching porcupine-quill earrings – perhaps they were twins. But from what she could see they had very different physiques. Where one was long and thin, the other was small and plump.

  Lofty and Inch, Eska mused. It makes sense.

  Inch squinted towards the ladder. ‘There’s someone else with him!’

  There was a pause, then Lofty’s voice came hard and low. ‘It’s a girl. An outsider, by the looks of things.’

  Eska’s knuckles whitened round the rope, but she kept on climbing. Then Flint clambered on to the platform and as Eska followed, panting, the twins backed away from the ladder.

  The hollow tree closed several metres above their heads and Eska noticed pieces of bark nailed to the walls, each one bearing carved words: Otter-Tread, Silent-Claw, Lone-Lynx, Spruce-Wanderer, Wild-Paw. Perhaps the names here belonged to former Fur Tribe Chiefs and Chieftainesses . . . There was a desk, too, sculpted from wood, with bears, lynx and otters carved into the legs, and a lantern framed by caribou antlers. These were beautiful, homely things and Eska felt she could have spent ages looking at them had it not been for Lofty’s and Inch’s narrow eyes.

  The twins hurried behind the desk and sat down on two high-backed chairs.

  Flint looked at his boots. ‘I’m sorry I asked you to cover for me when I crept out last night, Lofty.’

  Lofty raised an eyebrow, then he glanced down at his desk. There were about a hundred names carved into its surface in columns and, beside each of the names, there was a spruce cone sitting in a hollowed-out scoop.

  Lofty picked up a cone from a small wicker basket on the desk and plonked it next to Flint’s name. ‘In,’ he muttered. ‘And that’s the last time I take the register.’

  Inch coughed and Flint shifted his gaze towards him.

  ‘And I’m sorry I made you lie to my sister, Inch.’ Flint sighed. ‘It was all going so well at first. I sneaked past the guards, stole into the palace and then,’ he shot a glance at Eska – the novelty of showing her the Labyrinth had clearly worn off, ‘and then she got in the way.’

  Eska felt her cheeks burn.

  Inch frowned. ‘What is she?’

  ‘A girl,’ Flint replied.

  Lofty sighed. ‘I can see that. But what tribe?’ He looked her up and down. ‘Blue eyes like a Tusk . . . But red hair?’

  Eska took a tiny step forward. ‘I’m not a Tusk.’ She felt around for the right words. ‘Even though I lived in Winterfang Palace, I never once spoke to the Ice Queen. I hate her, like you, and—’

  ‘LIVED AT WINTERFANG PALACE?!’ Lofty spluttered. He turned to Flint. ‘I’m used to you breaking rules, but asking outsiders from the palace in for a cup of spruce-needle tea?! What were you thinking?’

  ‘I wasn’t planning on offering her tea. I was planning on taking her to Tomkin.’

  Inch’s eyes widened. ‘Because he’s going to be really pleased to see a Tusk spy.’

  ‘I’m not a Tusk spy!’ Eska cried.

  ‘Sounds like something a Tusk spy would say,’ Lofty muttered under his breath.

  Flint drew himself up. ‘Eska’s not a spy. She was the Ice Queen’s prisoner and she knows things Tomkin needs to hear.’

  Inch sank his head into his hands. ‘This is a disaster.’

  Flint sighed. ‘Come on – let us through. Blu will be worrying about me . . .’

  At the mention of Flint’s sister, Lofty stood up reluctantly and Eska noticed something carved into the wood behind where he had been sitting. The head of an enormous grizzly bear: two small eyes above a snout-like nose and a wide neck surrounded by a circle of large brown claws. The fur was carved in such detail it almost looked alive and, when Lofty flicked one of the claws beside its ear to the left, all the other claws followed suit, there was a clanking noise like gears slotting into place, and the bear’s colossal jaw dropped open. Eska blinked. The way on into the Labyrinth was through a grizzly bear’s mouth!

  ‘Tomkin’s in the Swingery,’ Lofty muttered. ‘They all are.’

  Flint took a step towards the open mouth but Inch leapt up. ‘Wait! We should check her for weapons. For ice blades and axes and spears and . . . and more ice blades before we let her through.’

  Eska picked at the cuffs of her parka. ‘I didn’t come with anything like that.’

  Flint nodded. ‘She’s unarmed. And, besides, she’s not the kind of girl who would know how to wield a weapon anyway. Trust me.’

  Lofty glanced at Inch. ‘Scared of a pathetic little girl. Honestly . . . I really worry about you with the rebellion coming up.’

  Inch sat down shakily. ‘I’ve already asked Tomkin if I can be on register duty.’

  Seizing the opportunity, Flint stole through the bear’s mouth, and Eska followed. They emerged a moment later before a vast network of wooden walkways and rope ladders criss-crossing through the canopy of the trees. Eska gasped. How big was this secret world up among the branches?

  Dotted around the trunks of the spruces were tree houses – about twenty of them in a large circle. Some were square, some rectangular, others oblong or triangular, but each had a door, little shuttered windows and a chimney on the top. Eska gawped in awe. The forest floor must have been forty metres below, but she couldn’t see it – the trees’ branches were so dense and any gaps between them had been filled with walkways and ladders – and as she looked up she saw that the branches closed over the hideaway, locking it from sight. Even the birds wouldn’t know it was here.

  Flint slid a glance to Eska behind him and, though he said nothing, she could feel his pride. She hastened after him, in towards the centre of this hidden village, where the biggest tree house sat.

  ‘The Swingery,’ Flint said as they approached it. ‘This is where we have tribe meetings.’

  It was circular, with a turreted roof made from slats of wood, and, as Flint pulled the door open, Eska held her breath. Tomkin would be inside and, if she could just persuade him to listen to her, maybe he’d let her stay, after all.

  Hanging from the roof were lots and lots of swings – some simple boards of wood, others sling
s made from animal hide and hammocks that could hold several people at once – and the floor was scattered with caribou skins. Dozens of children – all clad in brown furs with brown hair and brown eyes – sat on the swings, their heads turned over their shoulders towards Flint and Eska as if perhaps, just moments before, they had been listening to someone at the far end of the room. Eska swallowed. The children were staring at her, in silence, and their eyes were cold.

  At the back of the room, a boy stood up on a large swing hanging from ropes studded with leaves. He flicked a knife up in the air and caught it with one hand. Eska felt her knees wobble. He looked so like Flint, only taller and with a harder jaw.

  Flint shuffled forward. ‘Hello, Tomkin.’

  And, at his words, Eska felt her hopes drain from her chest. Because Tomkin didn’t look pleased to see Flint at all.

  He looked furious.

  ‘Where on earth have you been?’ Tomkin shouted. Flint winced. But, before he could reply, a small, tubby girl dropped down from a swing and charged through the ropes towards him. Her hair was short and wild about her face, as if she’d cut it herself, in a hurry, without a mirror, or even scissors.

  ‘My brother! You give me happy!’ she cried, flinging her arms round Flint’s waist.

  Flint reddened and for a moment he forgot all about the trouble he was in. Instead, he felt Eska’s eyes on him and he wondered whether she could see that Blu was different from everyone else in the tribe, that her eyes were smaller and sloping, like almonds, and that her words came out all jumbled even though she was eight and she should have known better.

  But when he glanced at Eska he saw she wasn’t frowning. She wasn’t raising her eyebrows in disgust either, like some people did when they spoke to Blu. She was just watching carefully, as he’d noticed she often did, without saying anything at all.

  ‘I miss you, brother,’ Blu said.

  Flint ruffled her hair. ‘I’m here now.’

  Blu tickled Pebble beneath his chin, then she turned to Eska and shot out a little hand. ‘Who you? I’m Blu.’

  Eska blinked. ‘I’m—’

  Her words were cut short by a thump. Tomkin had leapt down from his swing and was striding across the room. He drew himself up before them – a necklace of razor-sharp bear claws splayed around his neck, a large knife hanging from his belt – and Eska found the words drying up in her mouth.

  Tomkin jabbed a finger in Eska’s direction. ‘Who is she?’

  ‘She’s not a spy, Tomkin,’ Flint said quickly. There were murmurs from the swings around them. ‘At least, I’m almost certain that she’s not. I met her at Winterfang.’

  Tomkin’s eyes blazed. ‘Winterfang? Why were you at the Ice Queen’s palace?’

  ‘I was trying to rescue Ma.’

  ‘Of all the reckless, stupid, irresponsible things you’ve done,’ Tomkin spat, ‘this is the worst.’

  Blu clung on to Flint’s arm. ‘Be nice, Tomkin. Be nice to brother.’

  But Tomkin didn’t even look at his sister. Instead, he narrowed his eyes at Flint. ‘You’re still inventing things, aren’t you? Even though I told you to stop.’

  ‘No . . . Definitely not.’ Flint grimaced, knowing how hollow his words sounded. He’d never been a good liar.

  ‘You made a bunch of stupid objects that you thought could help rescue Ma,’ Tomkin hissed, ‘but they didn’t work! They never work, Flint! When will you learn that magic can’t be trusted?’

  Blu put her hands over her ears.

  ‘You’re not an inventor. You’re a warrior. Like the rest of the Fur Tribe. Or at least you’re meant to be.’ Tomkin shot a glance at Pebble who was peeping out of Flint’s hood. ‘And it’s high time you dumped that fox pup back in the wild where it belongs. When we found its mother dead last spring, you were told to drown the pup because it wouldn’t survive without her.’ He shook Flint by the shoulders and Pebble leapt down from Flint’s hood and cowered behind Eska. ‘You’re too old for pets now – and you’re too old for me to be rushing around Deeproots, trying to find you.’

  Flint shrunk inside his furs. The whole tribe was listening to what a terrible disappointment he was – even Eska now knew it – and the shame burned his cheeks.

  Blu let out a whimper and Flint stroked her hair. ‘You’re upsetting Blu,’ he said quietly.

  ‘I’m upsetting Blu?’ Tomkin spat. ‘You ran away!’ For a moment, his eyes softened. ‘Imagine if you hadn’t come back . . .’

  Flint reached out to touch the necklace his little sister wore, the one he had made by attaching a rabbit paw to a loop of willow twine. It was a good-luck talisman, or so the carvings he’d found in the woods claimed, and Flint hoped that it would keep his sister safe.

  ‘I’d always come back, Blu,’ he whispered. ‘Always.’

  Blu wriggled free and poked Tomkin in the stomach. ‘Not nice words. Be friends.’

  Tomkin sighed. ‘We spent months and months building this hideaway, Flint. We can’t afford to have the Ice Queen and her spies following your tracks and finding us.’

  Flint shook his head. ‘It snowed last night; our tracks are covered – until Deeproots at least. I wouldn’t put us in danger.’

  There were more mumblings from the Fur Tribe, then someone called out, ‘What about the girl? Why’s she here? We’ve no room for outsiders!’

  Eska took a small step behind Flint.

  ‘This is Eska,’ Flint said to his brother. ‘I don’t really know who she is, but she was the Ice Queen’s prisoner and I think she knows things that could help us.’

  There was a long and painful silence, then Blu turned to Eska, shot out her hand once again and said, ‘I Blu.’

  Eska took her hand and tried to smile, but one by one the Fur Tribe stood up on their swings. And that’s when the shouting began.

  ‘Look at her eyes!’ one girl cried. ‘She’s a Tusk spy!’

  ‘She’s not welcome here!’ a boy shrieked.

  ‘She’s the Ice Queen’s pet!’

  ‘Tell her to leave!’

  ‘We can fight our rebellion without an outsider!’

  Tomkin put up his hand and the voices were quelled. ‘That’s enough. I need to speak with my brother alone.’

  Flint turned to Eska, then pointed to an empty hammock beside them. ‘Sit there,’ he said, ‘and don’t attempt any conversations.’

  Eska seemed about to say something, but Tomkin was already marching off between the swings and Flint had to hurry to keep up. The tribe were muttering now, casting fierce looks towards the visitor sitting by the door, but Flint ignored them. He ignored Tomkin whispering to Blade, Tomkin’s second in command, as they passed, too, but, as he stooped to enter a small tent made of caribou skins at the far end of the room, he glanced back towards Eska. Blu was chattering away to her and Pebble was hopping between them. He paused for a second. There was something about this girl, something he couldn’t put his finger on. She wasn’t strong or impressive and yet he was starting to believe that there was something special about her voice, something secret and important.

  He ducked inside the tent to find his brother sitting on a stool. Barely taking a breath, Tomkin launched into his lecture.

  ‘The Fur Tribe fight with weapons, not far-fetched ideas. And you need to remember that.’

  Flint wanted to tell Tomkin about how well his gyrfalcon whistle had worked, and about how he had so nearly managed to reach their ma. But Tomkin raised a hand before those sentences could unravel and, with a heavy heart, Flint filled his brother in on all that he had seen and heard in Winterfang Palace and about the things Eska had told him of the Ice Queen’s plans.

  ‘What if Eska could help us?’ Flint said.

  Tomkin snorted. ‘That runt you dragged in? She’d be of no help to anyone. And a voice, Flint? Even from you, that type of thinking is ridiculous. How could a voice beat the Ice Queen? You’ve been spun a line by that girl.’

  ‘At least speak to Eska,’ Flint muttered. He got up to go.
‘Just listen to what she has to say, then you can decide.’

  Tomkin sighed. ‘There’s no point, Flint.’

  ‘There might be!’ With that, he hurried from the tent to go and find Eska, but, as he wove through the ropes, he noticed how quiet the room was. The rest of the Fur Tribe were crouched on their swings, watching him with slitted eyes, and, when Flint reached the door, he saw that only Blu and Pebble were on the hammock.

  Eska was nowhere to be seen.

  Flint made a dash towards the door, but a bulky boy clad in lynx furs blocked his way.

  ‘Whose side are you on, Flint?’ Blade asked.

  And Flint realised then what had happened, why Tomkin had whispered to Blade on his way to the tent.

  ‘You made her leave, didn’t you?’ he said quietly. ‘On Tomkin’s orders.’

  Blade raised his chin. ‘She didn’t belong here. Tomkin’s right. We can’t trust outsiders at a time like this.’

  Flint chewed his lip. Back at the food store he had planned to abandon Eska if Tomkin saw no use for her, but then he’d seen her with the eagle – so stubborn and fierce – and something inside him had shifted. There was more to Eska than first met the eye. Yes, she’d messed up his chances of freeing his ma, but did she really deserve to be cast out? And what if her voice really was the key to defeating the Ice Queen? Flint glanced up at the Fur Tribe and tried to read their faces, but one by one they turned away so that he was left looking at a sea of backs.

  And then Tomkin emerged from the tent and made his way through the swings towards his brother. ‘It’s time to grow up, Flint. We need warriors, not dreamers, to bring the rest of our tribe home.’

  Blu picked up Pebble and stroked his head. ‘Where your friend, Flint? I like friend.’

  Flint felt something tug inside him, but he shook it away, remembering instead the humiliation of being shouted at by Tomkin in front of everyone – and he turned his heart in the direction of his tribe.

  ‘She wasn’t my friend,’ he muttered. ‘She was a stupid Tusk spy.’

 

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