Snowbone (5 page)

Leaves were blown from the bush. Birds were thrown into the air. Snot and dribble fell like summer rain. And as the man outside the house dropped his knife and jumped to his feet, Two Teeth leaped out of the bush and ran off into the forest, as fast as his legs would carry him, with Blackeye and Fudge sprinting after him, and they didn't stop running until the house was far, far behind.

Snowbone was sitting on the beach, staring out at the waves, thinking about the boys and wondering just how big the forest could be when she heard it.

WOOOAAAA
!
WOOOAAAA
!

And there was Blackeye, standing in the meeting circle, blowing the horn, with tiddlins running in from every direction to hear his news.

“So?” said Snowbone when they were all seated and listening. “Did you find anything?”

“We did,” said Blackeye. He told them about the woodcutters and the strange blue light, the siphon tube and the sticky white sap.

“Well!” said Snowbone. “I didn't know what you'd find, but I wasn't expecting that. These people … were they wooden?”

“No,” said Fudge. “At least, the ones we saw up close weren't. They were human.”

Snowbone frowned. “Did you see anything else?”

“Yes!” said Blackeye. “A house, set in a sunny glade, with a man sitting outside.”

“Was
he
wooden?”

The boys looked at each other and shook their heads.

“Don't know,” said Blackeye.

“Oh!” cried Snowbone, throwing up her hands in frustration. “That was the kind of thing you were supposed to be looking for!”

“I know,” said Blackeye, “but we didn't manage to get close before he saw us.”

“He saw you?”

Blackeye nodded. “We were doing fine until Two Teeth sneezed.”

“Sorry,” said Two Teeth. “I don't know what made me do it.” He flashed Snowbone a toothy grin but she wasn't amused.

“How far is this place?” she said.

“It depends which way you go,” said Fudge. “It took us three days to get there, but we made it back in under two hours.”

Snowbone smiled. “Well done, lads. This is good news. The man you saw at the house … did he look friendly?”

They nodded. “I'd like to talk to him.” “We'll show you the house,” said Blackeye. “No,” said Snowbone with a sly smile. “You'll show me the
path.
I'll go alone. Tomorrow. Early.”

he next morning, Snowbone headed into the forest, following the track Blackeye had found. When the freckled sunlight became stronger, she knew she was nearing the glade. Once she was there, she took cover behind a bramble thicket and peered over the top.

There was the house, just as Blackeye had described it. And there was the man, hanging up his washing. Two shirts, a vest and a big pair of pants. He looked friendly enough.

Snowbone made up her mind and walked out into the clearing. And the man must have seen her coming, because he turned around and smiled.

“It never ceases to amaze me,” he said. “Here I am, living in the middle of a forest, with only squirrels and rabbits for company. And yet people drop by just as I am thinking of putting the kettle on.”

Snowbone stared at him, tongue-tied. She had rehearsed a dozen opening lines, but none of them would answer that.

“Are you hungry?” said the man.

She nodded.

“Good. Because I am famished, and food tastes better when it's shared. Go on in. I'll clean myself up and be with you in no time.”

Snowbone went into the house and noted the simple furnishings. Absorbed every new sound and smell. Soon the man entered, grinning broadly and smelling of soap.

“I haven't introduced myself,” he said. “I'm Figgis.” He held out his hand.

Snowbone looked at it. It was wooden. But wooden or flesh, it made no difference. She didn't like touching people.

Figgis saw her discomfort and smiled. He'd stand there all day if he had to.

Snowbone grabbed his hand, shook it and dropped it like a wet fish. “Snowbone,” she murmured, unconsciously wiping her hands on her britches.

“I'm very pleased to meet you, Snowbone,” said Figgis, grinning now. He began to busy himself in the kitchen. “I bet you're wondering what I'm doing out here, on my own, in the middle of the forest?”

Snowbone nodded.

“I'm a tinker. I mend pots and pans, and anything else I can find on my travels. Not that I travel far, mind. Just into town now and then, and round and about the villages.” He took a loaf from a cupboard and began to cut it. “I saw your friends yesterday. I assume they
are
your friends?”

“Yes.”

“So why aren't they with you today?”

Snowbone shrugged. “Didn't need them.”

“I can believe that,” said Figgis, glancing at her determined little face. “But you do need something, or else you wouldn't be here.” He handed her a plate of sandwiches.

Snowbone nodded. “Information.”

Figgis returned with the tea and found the sandwiches were gone. “I like a girl with an appetite,” he said. “More?”

Snowbone nodded eagerly.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” said Snowbone.

Figgis handed her a second plate of sandwiches and eased himself into an armchair. “You're one of the tiddlins from Black Sand Bay, aren't you?”

“How do you know that?” said Snowbone, instantly on her guard.

“Oh, people pass by and tell me things,” said Figgis. “Do you want to know how to find your family?”

“No,” said Snowbone with a puzzled frown. “I'm not interested in that. I want to know about Ashenpeakers. You're the first grown-up I've seen. I want to know how we live, how we grow, how we die.”

“I can tell you that,” said Figgis.

“And I want to know about the slave trade.”

“Do you now? And why might that be?”

Snowbone's eyes hardened. She held up a stubby finger and thumb, and squeezed them close, like a crab's claw. “Because I came
this close
to being one myself,” she said. “And if it takes me the rest of my life, I will find the people who did that to me. And they will be sorry.”

Snowbone fell silent and Figgis, studying her face, knew she would show no mercy. And in that moment, the tinker had a vision of slavery—no hope, no happiness, no memory of
home or family, just toil and torment in a foreign land—and he rejoiced that this strange, pale girl was in the world. “I have so much to tell you,” he said. “If I begin now, will you come back for more at another time?”

“Absolutely,” said Snowbone. “I'll come back tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, as long as it takes. If you will tell, I will listen.”

“Then listen now,” said Figgis. “And learn.”

nowbone took one look at the turbulent sky the next morning and canceled her plans for the day.
Oh, spits and spats and hairy cats!
Why did there have to be a storm today? She desperately wanted to learn more from Figgis. Already he had told her how the Ashenpeakers were descended from nine magical beings called the Ancients. Today, he would explain their life cycle, from birth to death—except she wasn't going to be there. She couldn't leave the camp with a storm coming. There was too much to do.

Thick, anxious clouds were piling in from the north. Hundreds of seabirds were abandoning the waves and flying inland. They swooped and dived beneath the lowering clouds and slashed the sky with ragged calls. The wind was rising. The trees at the forest fringe were starting to sway and the sand eddied about her feet as she walked down the beach to the sea. Mouse was already there, sniffing the wind.

“Is it bad?” said Snowbone.

“Very bad,” said Mouse. “Worse than any storm we've seen so far.”

Snowbone frowned. They had seen several storms, some of them severe. If this one was worse … She marched to the meeting circle, picked up the horn and blew it.

“Secure the shelters,” she said when everyone had assembled. “Everything movable should be taken to the store caves. Tigermane, set up beds in the larger cave. We'll spend the night there. Fudge, we'll need a supply of fresh water.”

She waved them away and gazed again at the rolling waves. Much as she loved the sea, right now she was glad to be on land.

By midday, the sky was swollen and bruised. A strange, shadowy twilight played across the land and the wind had worsened. It tormented the tide. It bullied the birds. It stalked the forest like a troll, snapping any tree that refused to bend.

Snowbone and her gang sat on the beach, watching the waves. The air was thick with salt and spray and wind-whistle. Then suddenly the sky blackened and the rain began: a torrent of water cascading down, sluicing the beach, rattling the shingle. And the tiddlins, instantly soaked, leaped to their feet and started to dance. A wild, primeval dance as the earth met the sky and the sky met the sea. Open to the elements, they spun and whirled, powered by an energy they couldn't understand. It charged their feet and urged them on in a glorious, abandoned celebration of life. They laughed and danced like demons, and still the rain came down in a gray, gray blessing.

But in the middle of it all, Blackeye stopped dancing and stared out to sea.

“A ship,” he said, though no one was listening. He walked to the water's edge and peered through the curtains of rain.
“SHIP!”

Snowbone was instantly by his side. “Where?”

“There,” he said, pointing into the teeth of the storm.

The dancers were breaking their circle now, running to join them.

Snowbone followed the line of Blackeye's finger and screwed up her eyes, but she couldn't see anything. Just grays and whites and blues and blacks, colliding, riding, striding the storm.

“Yes!” said Fudge, his head bobbing up and down in excitement. “I can see it.”

Snowbone cursed her stupid eyes and squinted harder.

“It's a brig,” said Two Teeth. “You don't think it's the
Mer
maid
?”

“No,” said Blackeye. “She's too big.”

Snowbone glared at them and cursed again. She still couldn't see it.

“Whoever it is,” said Two Teeth, “they are in big trouble.”

Snowbone was nearly in the water now. From the tip of her nose to the tip of her toes, she was taut with frustration. Was she the only one who couldn't see the blessed thing? Well, if she was, she wasn't about to let anyone know. “There's nothing we can do,” she said, turning away.

“We can watch for survivors,” said Tigermane. “She'll go down. She won't stand a buffeting like that.”

“She's heading for the Red Rock!” cried Blackeye.

Necks stretched and eyes narrowed as everyone strained to see. The Red Rock was a jagged tooth of volcanic stone that lay off the coast of the island. The tiddlins had seen it when the pirates rowed them ashore and knew how deadly it was. The peak could slice through timber like a knife through an apple. A ship could go down in minutes, and take her crew
with her. Why was the rock red? Because it was stained with the blood of all the sailors who had died there….

“Oh!”
cried Mouse.
“Oh!”

Snowbone knew the worst had happened. She could tell by looking at the faces around her. The ship had reached the rock and, with a great shudder, it had toppled as the deadly peak ripped through its timbers.