Urchin and the Raven War (32 page)

In the workrooms Thripple, Needle, and the other needle animals heaved their ancient and most treasured Threadings from their hiding places. These, at least, were undamaged. Then they examined the shreds of the rest. Nearly all their remaining wool and silk had been used to make nets. This autumn there would be plant fibers to spin, and perhaps a boat would bring wool. They still had paint.

“And there are always pebbles and shells on the shore,” said Thripple. “We can make pictures with those. And fish bones.”

“Fish bones!” said Needle.

“Why ever not?” asked Thripple, and Needle couldn’t think of a good answer.

In the Tangletwigs, Needle’s mother and little brother found a tattered length of red fabric that looked a lot like a torn bit of old curtain from the tower, and a broken mask like the ones children might use in their plays. The mask was too damaged to be of any use, but the curtain would tear up to make a nest.

In the castle, tower animals made up beds and nests. Moth the mole brought Princess Almondflower back to the tower. The small princess rolled on her swansdown quilt with little squeaks of delight before falling asleep on it.

“That’s her settled, at least,” said Cedar. “And Gleaner’s family has been sent for. But not all the animals have been restored to their proper places. Brother Fir wanted to go back to his turret, and I’ve sent maids to sweep and clean it and make it ready. There may not be much time.”

“So I’ve heard,” said Moth. “But for some reason that I haven’t yet got hold of, those corridors farther down the tower are very slippery, and Juniper says it wouldn’t be safe to carry him up there.”

“Can they get him to a window?” asked Cedar.

“I’m not sure,” said Moth. “I can find out.”

“Because if he can be moved to an open window, big enough to pass him through,” said Cedar, “he can be flown to the turret.”

Later that evening, as a warm golden sunset flamed over Mistmantle, four swans hovered at the Gathering Chamber windows, carrying a plain wood-and-canvas stretcher in their beaks. With great gentleness, Juniper lifted Brother Fir onto it, and the swans rose into the air, solemn and dignified, carrying Brother Fir back home to his turret, where Arran leaned from a window to receive him, and Hope turned down the covers on the plain little bed, one last time.

At the Spring Gate, Sepia sat by Urchin’s bed, holding his paw. He was still unconscious, his head on one side, both wrists bandaged. His whiskers were limp and his ears drooped. Juniper felt for his pulse.

“Talk to him, Sepia,” he said.

“I’ll stay with him,” she said, “if you want to go to Fir.”

“It isn’t only Fir,” said Juniper. “I have to go to the rest of the wounded.” He prayed a blessing over Urchin and hovered at the door. “There’s a guard outside. Send for me if anything happens. Talk to him, sing to him, do anything to help him stay alive.” Still looking over his shoulder, he left.

Sepia talked. She talked of the Spring Festival when she had first met Urchin, Needle, and the other tower animals. She talked of the search for the Heartstone and the rescue of the Heir of Mistmantle. When she ran out of things to talk to him about, she sang.

Urchin felt he was drifting out to sea. He shouldn’t be drifting away like this. He’d be carried away through the mist, and this time there’d be no returning, ever, ever, ever…But he had no strength to fight it. He could only float out on the tide. It didn’t matter anymore.

He could hear a voice, clear, sweet, and beautiful: singing, like Sepia’s voice. It made him want to stay with his friends on Mistmantle. But Mistmantle was such a long way back! He was in the boat that had carried him away to Whitewings.…He was a prisoner…He was about to be killed. He caught a glimpse of a smiling mole in a blue cloak . .. and then of a pale squirrel with a face he thought he should know, and nothing mattered but that he should go to her. The tide carried him to her, and all he had to do was drift.

The door opened. Sepia stopped singing, jumped up and curtsied, because Crispin was there, his arm across Apple’s shoulders as he ushered her into the chamber. Apple’s eyes and nose were pink from crying, and Sepia’s heart hurt for her. They were followed by a stout and rather shy-looking male squirrel Sepia had never met before, carrying Apple’s basket.

“Hold his right paw, Mistress Apple, not his left,” said Sepia as Apple settled herself beside the bed. “His left paw mustn’t be moved.”

Apple wrapped both her wrinkled paws around Urchin’s.

“Heart love you, look at you!” she said. “This is no way to be when the king needs you, Urchin, you need to get better, get up on your paws, we’re all right proud of you, aren’t we, Your Majesty, we want you up and about so we can all give you a pat on the back and that, and besides, I got something to tell you, or, like, ask you about, in a manner of speaking, or at least, Master Filbert does. Now here’s Sepia and Fingal waiting for you to get better, and Juniper. You press my paw if you can hear me, Urchin.”

Urchin’s eyes were still closed. His paw in Apple’s did not move.

“Now, I tell you, Urchin,” said Apple. For the first time, Sepia heard tears in her voice. “I tell you, you and me go back a long way, don’t we, to all that long ago when I got you out of the water, Heart love the scrappy lttle thing you were, or you would have drownded. And I didn’t get you out of that water and bring you up all these years just so some great bullying ugly bird can pick you off, and if I had them birds, here, ooh, I’d make short work of 'em for you. Spuggies, young Todd calls ‘em, big greedy spuggies. So you just live, Urchin, because you’re not dying for some big spuggy. And I tell you what else, Urchin. I brought you this, this is a real good batch from two years back, this is the best, I brought it to you to help you along.”

From the basket, Filbert passed her a small, tightly stoppered bottle. When Apple pulled out the cork, a bitter tang of old apple, strong mint, and vinegar prickled through the little chamber.

“Just a moment, Mistress Apple,” said Crispin. “We should ask Brother Juniper if it’s all right to give Urchin anything.” He called to the page. “Fetch Brother Juniper, please!”

Juniper soon came limping hastily, frowning a little in anxiety, with Fingal slipping in behind him. He exchanged a few words with Apple.

“Oh, yes!” he said, and held out his paw for the cork. “We should try this!” With a keen new light in his face, he raised Urchin’s head and waved the cork before his face.

“Urchin!” he said.

Urchin’s right ear twitched. His eyelids flickered, just once.

“Pour out a teaspoonful, Apple,” said Juniper. “That’s all. Thanks. Let me just put a drop or two on his tongue.”

His paws shook a little with nervous hope. He trickled a few drops of cordial between Urchin’s lips.

Urchin’s mouth twitched. His eyes flickered open and shut. There was a jerk of his head and, in a low and very quiet voice, he whispered a single word. With a look of triumph, Apple turned to the rest of them.

“You see!” she said. “Trust my old cordial, it’s doing him good already.”

“Wonderful stuff, that!” agreed Filbert.

“It’s certainly made him fight,” said Crispin.

“Funny thing to say,” said Apple as she pressed the cork back into place. “He said, ‘vial.’ Least, I think that’s what he said. That’s a tower word, I mean, a posh word, isn’t it, for a bottle? Isn’t that what he said? Vial?”

“I’m sure it is,” said Fingal, feeling the subtle prod of the king’s elbow in his ribs. Apple leaned over Urchin and raised her voice.

“Can you hear me?” she bellowed. “It comes in bottles in Anemone Wood, not vials, that’s you talking like a proper tower squirrel, so you just buck up and start tower squirreling again!”

Fingal’s whiskers twitched. Urchin murmured again.

“That’s right, our Urchin,” said Apple.

“He’s asking for water,” said Juniper, and lifted a cup to Urchin’s lips.

Fingal knelt to kiss Apple’s paw and give Sepia a quick pat on the shoulder, then bowed to the king and left the chamber. Juniper followed him soon after, and they darted into Padra’s chamber to share the news. It had been a long time since they had laughed this much.

Juniper had stopped laughing when he climbed the many, many stairs to Fir’s turret. Urchin was still in danger, windows all over the tower were still broken, the smell of burning feathers was everywhere, Brother Fir could not last much longer, and how long since he had slept? Too long. He found he was dragging his paws with exhaustion as he reached the turret, where the lamps were low and gentle around Fir’s bed. Someone had placed lavender and roses in a vase by the bed, and the air was sweet with them.

Hope was quietly sorting out blankets and pillows in a corner. Brother Fir turned his head toward Juniper, and his paw lifted a little, shaking, in a blessing.

“Urchin opened his eyes for a second,” he said. “He tried to speak.”

“Juniper?”

Fir’s voice was so weak that Juniper had to bend close to hear him. The words were painfully slow.

“Corr.”

“Yes, Brother Fir?”

“The ravens and Corr.”

“I understand, Brother Fir. The ravens called his name.”

“And …” He smiled faintly. “The seaweed.”

“Kingsmantle,” said Juniper. “The robes of a king. Yes, I worked that one out too.”

“The king…”

“King Crispin must be told? Yes, of course. Are you comfortable?”

In the soft light it seemed that Brother Fir’s shriveled body grew even smaller, and his dark eyes with their depth of love, suffering, and joy grew even deeper and larger, as if all of him were in his eyes. His smile was the most beautiful Juniper had ever seen.

“I am happier now,” said Fir, “than I have ever been.”

Presently, he fell asleep. Juniper tried to suppress a series of enormous yawns, and couldn’t.

“Brother Juniper,” said Hope.

“Yes, Hope?”

“I’ve made up a bed for you,” he said. “I’ll watch with Brother Fir. And Captain Lady Arran says she’ll take a turn with him, and so will Scatter, now she’s home, and the queen. So you can sleep, Brother Juniper.”

“We still need healers,” said Juniper, and again pretended not to yawn.

“There are lots of healers,” said Hope, “and they’re all very good. And if you’re really, really tired, you might make mistakes.” He smoothed the blanket on a mattress on the floor.

“Hope,” said Juniper, limping wearily to the makeshift bed, “where would the island be without you?”

“Thank you, Brother Juniper, but I think it would stay put,” said Hope.

Juniper raised his paw. “Heart keep you, Hope,” he said.

“Heart keep you too, Brother Juniper,” said Hope, and trotted to take his place at Fir’s bedside.