Urchin and the Heartstone (36 page)

“Hm,” said Fir. “I should think that Smokewreath was sensitive, too, but he turned his gift to his own ends instead of offering it to the Heart. Yes, Juniper has great potential. He has loyalty and strength of character, more than he realizes himself, I think. Fortunately his heart is turned toward what is good and true. I would be greatly troubled otherwise. But good intentions are not enough, and he needs training. Most important. We must both teach him.”

“Both?” she said, and crossed to the window, where she looked down at the woods and the bare trees. The hope in her heart might just be too good to be true. “Does that mean I’ll be allowed to stay?”

“My dear,” said Fir, “if you think King Crispin will send you away, you’re very much mistaken.”

When she had gone, he chuckled quietly to himself at the idea of Crispin wanting her to leave. His next visitor was Juniper, who stood anxiously, curling his claws.

“It’s a bit awkward, Brother Fir,” he said, and twisted his weak paw around the good one, wishing he hadn’t come. “You know I nearly died on Whitewings?”

“Yes, I know.”

“Well, I…I…I think I really did die.”

“Yes,” said Fir without surprise. “And then what?”

“I sort of saw things,” said Juniper, encouraged. “Things I’d forgotten. I remembered something about my mother, or I think that’s who she must have been. I saw a squirrel face. I fell a long way, and there was a scream. I heard a voice. And that’s all. That’s all I remembered. The next thing I knew I was warm, and everything around me was safe, and Cedar was with me. But in the meantime—it sounds stupid, but I think my heart had stopped. I didn’t feel afraid of Smokewreath after that, but I think he was frightened of me.”

“Yes, I see,” said Fir.

“I didn’t know what to make of it, sir,” he said. “But now Urchin’s found out about his parents, and…and…”

“Yes?”

Juniper bit his lip and tried not to fidget. “Well, he knows about his parents and I still don’t know about mine, and…well, I couldn’t help being jealous, sir, when he found out. Then I thought, what’s to stop me finding out about mine? So that’s what I plan to do.”

“It may not be possible,” said Fir.

“I’m not stupid, sir,” said Juniper. “I’m not much younger than Urchin. The culling law hadn’t been brought in when I was a baby. So I think Damson had another reason for hiding me. She won’t tell me, but I thought you might know.”

“Dear Juniper,” said Fir, “I have no more idea about your beginnings than you have yourself. Has it occurred to you that you may not like the answer?”

“Yes,” he said, “but I still need to find out.”

“Hm,” said Fir, “well, well. If you are determined to find out, it will be a hard journey to make, and it may be a sad one. But it may be that you need to know your past before you can go forward to your future, and your future is vital. I see great potential in you, Juniper. I hope you will study with me.”

“But I’ve never studied anything!” cried Juniper.

“Better start soon, then,” said Fir. “As Cedar observed, you have great gifts, but they must be trained and disciplined or chaos will result. Your gift of sensitivity is not a good or a bad thing in itself. What matters is what you make of it. You could become a great blessing to the island, or you could destroy yourself and everyone around you. Will you be my pupil? Will you be trained to fulfill your potential?”

“Oh, yes, Brother Fir!” cried Juniper.

“As a priest?” said Brother Fir.

Juniper was quiet for a while. Then he said softly, “If you think I’m called to it, Brother Fir. I’ll do it willingly. But I don’t think I’m good enough.”

“Thank the Heart for that,” said Fir.

After Juniper had gone, Fir settled himself by the hearth and contented himself with warmth and firelight.
Firelight and moonlight
, anyone could see that meant Cedar and Urchin. The Heartstone was the secret. The true, that was dear old Lugg. So the holy, of course, is the only one left. Yes. And may the Heart let me live to see him ready to take my place.

Padra ran down the stairs and found a rosemary bush walking in the other direction. But the rosemary bush wore Apple’s hat, and had Apple’s paws sticking out underneath it, and proved not to be a bush at all, but only a heap of branches.

“For the Gathering Chamber, Captain Padra, sir,” she said. “The moles are off busy doing I don’t know what, moley things, and there’s squirrels off rehearsing and whatnot, and less of us to do the work, and I was that pleased to hold your little girl, right little wrigglepot, Heart love her, isn’t she gorgeous?”

“Of course she is,” said Padra. He helped her carry her burden to the Gathering Chamber, and they paused in the doorway. Crispin and Cedar were talking at a window. Apple lowered her voice to a confidential whisper.

“Better drop this lot and go back for the rest,” she said. “He hasn’t hardly taken his eyes off her, Heart bless him, and quite right, too. We’ll no sooner have him crowned than we’ll have a big wedding to dress up for.”

“Give them a chance,” Padra whispered back. “She’s only just got here.” They were interrupted by Urchin running up the stairs and bowing.

“Reporting for duty, Captain Padra, sir,” he said.

“Urchin,” said Padra. “My orders are as follows. Try to stay on the island long enough to finish your training. In the meantime, ask the king for a token to give to the Whitewings crew to invite them all to the coronation, and to Scatter’s guards. She should be there, too. But, Urchin”—he glanced at Crispin and Cedar and laid a paw on his shoulder—“don’t go to him yet.”

“You must know the worst of me,” Cedar was saying. “I pretended to serve the king while I waited to put Larch on the throne. You could say I’m as foul a traitor as your Gorsen.”

“Nobody,” said Crispin, “could call you traitor. You served your true queen and your island in the best way you could, at great danger to yourself. And as a loyal servant of Whitewings, you can tell me what to do with all these Whitewings moles. Lugg’s troops were ready for their attack, so we have a prison full of them. And the ship’s crew. And Lord Treeth. And Scatter, of course. I want to give Scatter a chance here.”

“I suppose they should be sent home,” said Cedar thoughtfully. “The crew and Scatter should be all right. But Lord Treeth and the soldiers might be more trouble than they’re worth. Larch has only just established herself as queen, and she has so much on her paws already.”

“Then I’ll keep them here under guard for a little longer,” said Crispin. “When we return her ship with a load of Mistmantle earth, I’ll send a message asking Her Majesty’s permission to keep her subjects here until they’ve learned how to behave.”

“Yes, the soldiers will probably obey her when they’ve got it into their heads that she’s the queen,” said Cedar. “I’m not sure about Lord Treeth. He could be a real threat to her.”

“Then I’ll keep him here until she asks for him back,” said Crispin. “He’ll protest, whatever we do, so it makes very little difference to me. And now the tyranny of Whitewings is over, your cause is won, and there are no more battles to fight. I hope you can enjoy your freedom and be happy on Mistmantle.”

Oh, please, thought Cedar. She dared not ask how long she could stay, but she gazed out over Mistmantle as if she could soak up its freshness.
Please.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

HE
G
ATHERING
C
HAMBER WAS SO CRAMMED
that Urchin wondered how the smaller creatures could keep breathing. Every ledge, seat, and windowsill was occupied. Squirrels even sat on lamp brackets, and the new gallery was so crammed that Urchin, wearing a deep red cloak and carrying a sword, couldn’t help glancing up at it in case it collapsed altogether. If that happened, a band of hedgehogs, the crews of the Whitewings ships, Scatter, Apple, Damson, and several small moles would land on the otters. Rosemary and holly, twined with gold ribbons and bright with berries, hung from the walls, and garlands stretched from the ceilings. Cloaks were bright, caps and bonnets were proud with ribbons and greenery, and Apple had trimmed her hat with feathers given by the Whitewings swans. Choirs sang. Everyone sang. And when Padra, as senior captain, and Fir, in a new embroidered tunic, proclaimed Crispin king, the cheering echoed and thundered as if the Chamber could not contain it.

The Heartstone was placed in its box so that Needle could carry it to Fir. Crispin had chosen Needle to do that, as she had looked for it for so long. On Crispin’s paw it shone as peacefully as if it had come home, and never wanted to move again. Urchin knew what that felt like.

Scatter was there, looking very tiny, wedged between two large squirrels. Her eyes shone as she watched the ceremony. She wore a small and elegant hat, which Urchin guessed might have been a present from Thripple. Thripple was like that.

Enthroned, Crispin sat upright and alone—but Padra stood to one side and Lugg on the other, with Arran behind them. The otters wore their turquoise blue and silver robes, Lugg wore deepest red, and Crispin was clothed in a mantle of green, so worked with golden leaves and spiderwebs and tiny animals that Needle could hardly take her eyes from it.

In old, gnarled paws, Fir lifted the crown high. Animals craned their necks to see it, whispering to each other of the craftsmanship. Oak leaves and acorns were woven into a wreath and, small but clear in the workmanship, worked in white shell, were stars and a swan. A shiver ran through Urchin.
Stars and a swan.
He had been there.

Prayers were said. Crispin made his promises to the islanders, and heads were bowed as the animals made their promises to him. And Urchin, joining in, with his paw on his sword, remembered that this was the young squirrel who had picked him up from the shore on the morning of his birth. He glanced over his shoulder at the Threading of another flame-red squirrel.

It’s all right now, Lady Whisper
, thought Urchin.
He’ll be all right.

As Fir pressed the crown over Crispin’s ears, it was as if a sigh of joy and relief ran through the Gathering Chamber. With a billowing of cloaks, every animal knelt. And a sweet, clear voice sang from the gallery like an enchantment.