Uki and the Swamp Spirit

by Kieran Larwood

  ‘How do you know where to find it, then?’ Jori asked, giving Coal one of her looks.

  ‘I don’t. Not exactly.’ Coal lifted his crutch and waved it in the direction of the fen. ‘I know where it has been and where it might be. We just have to try a few places and see.’

  ‘Call yourself a guide?’ Kree glared at him as well. ‘Even I could do that.’

  ‘Not without getting yourself lost, you couldn’t,’ said Coal. ‘Besides, it doesn’t matter if we don’t know the precise spot. The Gurdles will know we’re coming long before we see them. If you’re with me, they’ll know you’re trustworthy.’

  There was a bit more grumbling, but Coal ignored it. He headed across the bridge, leaving them to follow. Uki paused for a moment, one foot on the log, one on the bank.

  This is it, he told himself. One more step and you’re on the path again. And at the other end is Charice. It’s not going to be easy, but it has to be done. Stop her, capture her and all the life in the Fenlands will be safe. You can do it, Uki. You have to. It’s your task.

  He nodded to himself, then balanced his way across, into the fen.

  *

  Uki had imagined wading through waist-high gloop. He had imagined clammy mud, sucking at his feet; hungry eels nibbling his toes. He had expected swarms of biting bugs, wisps of mist and a stench of damp, rotten ooze.

  The Fenlands were nothing like that.

  They walked along a narrow strip of bare earth. It was an old, old path, worn deep by many hundreds of tramping feet. There were little banks on either side, topped with tufty grass, and behind those were thick blackberry bushes and hawthorns. Beyond were seas of reed beds. Literally seas – they flowed in waves whenever the wind blew. Ripples of gold that swished along beside them with a quiet, soothing hisssssssss.

  That sound was a constant background noise. That, and the buzzing of dragonflies. They hummed everywhere – great, long darts with bulbous eyes and a shimmer of wings. Uki had never seen insects so big, or so colourful, and was hypnotised by the way they seemed to hang in the air before zipping sideways, or soaring up and over the nodding heads of the bulrushes to disappear into the distance. He stared after them as the sun gleamed on their shining bodies. Streaks of brilliant red, blue and green. It was hard to tell, but they didn’t look warped or diseased, at least not in this part of the fen.

  What a cruel thing, he thought. To spoil such beautiful creatures.

  Imagine what it will do to rabbits, his dark voice added. And the jerboas and rats and birds. Imagine what the world will look like when plague takes it all.

  Uki shuddered. He focused on the scenery around him, shutting that voice and its awful pictures out of his head.

  There was lots of water. It flowed in a network of streams around them. In the distance were bigger ponds and lakes, with stretches of grass plain in between. They looked quite firm and dry, Uki thought, but then it was summertime. It was probably flooded for most of the winter. Perhaps it might even be the site of the floating Gurdle village, when the rains came.

  They hadn’t gone far when they saw their first heron. ‘Look!’ Kree, up on Mooka’s back, had spotted it. ‘It’s Lord Bandylegs!’

  And, Uki thought, it did look like a rabbit on stilts, wearing a shaggy grey cloak. Until it moved its head, stretching it upwards to reveal a long graceful neck and sharp orange beak. The cloak turned into a pair of wide, powerful wings, which it beat hard to take off, slapping sprays of water from the pool it had been standing in. Up and up it fought, until it was high enough to spread its wings and circle, keeping its eyes on the water below for tasty frogs and fish.

  They carried on walking until the sun began to hang low in the sky and Uki noticed his stomach was rumbling. They hadn’t stopped all afternoon, following one path or another, winding their way deeper into the fen, all without seeing a single soul. If it wasn’t for the sickly presence of Charice at the back of his head, Uki might have thought this part of the world was completely deserted.

  Jori must have been thinking the same thing as him. ‘Are we getting closer?’ she asked, keeping her voice low so Coal couldn’t hear. Uki closed his eyes for a second and concentrated. Yes, the seething force of the spirit was definitely stronger now. A way off, but they were closing in.

  ‘It’s there,’ Uki said, pointing to the south. ‘Still quite far, but nearer than when we were in Reedwic.’

  ‘We should think about setting up camp,’ Coal said, interrupting Uki and making him jump. ‘It’ll be dark before long and we don’t want to wander off the path.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Kree. ‘Camp and supper. Uki’s tummy is rumbling. I can hear it from up here.’

  Uki blushed, but didn’t deny it. It had been a long day and the chance to relax by a campfire would be more than welcome. Coal led them down from the path to where a gnarled, timeless oak tree stood, half of its roots spilling over the bank into a stream, the rest spread out in a web of twining wood dotted with acorn shells. Low branches hung almost to the ground, sheltering them from sight. It was the perfect spot to stop.

  Kree and Jori began to gather twigs and dead branches for firewood, while Uki scooped out a fire pit with his paws. The earth was soft and crumbly and released a rich, damp, leafy smell as he dug into it. He was making it nice and deep, to hide the flames from unwanted eyes, when he heard a scream.

  He looked up, ears pricked tall, searching for Kree and Jori. He quickly spotted them, not far away, their arms full of firewood. So who had made the noise?

  ‘Trouble,’ Coal said. ‘Came from the other side of the path.’

  Jori and Kree dashed over, setting their firewood down.

  ‘We should go and see who it is,’ said Uki. ‘Someone might need help.’

  Coal shook his head. ‘It’s best to ignore screams in the Fenlands,’ he said. ‘It could be anything from a Maggitch trap to a giant viper. Stick your nose in and you’re likely to end up dead.’

  The noise came again. It sounded like a young rabbit, shouting for help.

  ‘I’m going,’ said Uki. ‘I have to.’ He didn’t have time to tell Coal about the bullying and torment he had suffered back in the Ice Wastes. He couldn’t explain how he’d promised himself never to stand by while another rabbit was being picked on. Not now he had the power and the strength to do something about it.

  ‘Come on!’ Kree shouted, pulling her short spear from her bedroll. ‘Let’s go to the rescue!’

  Coal groaned. ‘I really don’t think you should.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Jori. ‘The last time we did this, we ended up with her, don’t forget.’ She gave Kree a wink and stuck out her tongue. Despite her words, she had already drawn her sword.

  ‘At least wait for me,’ Coal began to say, but they had already dashed off, leaving Mooka tied to the oak trunk.

  They clambered back up to the path and followed it in the direction of the shouts. About twenty metres along, there was a gap in the bushes and a rough track leading down to one of the grassy floodplains. There, beside a broad, reed-lined pond, was a familiar red-armoured rabbit. Something small and furry squirmed in its grip.

  ‘Shrike!’ Jori hissed, diving into the cover of a blackberry bush. Uki and Kree skidded to a halt too, ducking down into the long, dry grass at the edge of the path.

  ‘It’s got someone,’ Uki whispered. They could now see the Shrike was clutching a young rabbit – holding the poor thing up by the ears. It looked like a boy, with sandy brown fur and clothes made of patchwork leather tinged a muddy green. He had a wicker basket on a strap around his neck, from which a glistening frog’s foot poked. His left leg was caught in a length of rope or wire, which trailed off to a wooden stake almost hidden in the reeds.

  As they watched, the Shrike shook the boy hard, making him shout again. It waved the spikes on its right forearm in front of the terrified child’s face.

  ‘We have to stop this,’ Uki said.

  ‘There’s only one of them.’ Jori had her paw on th
e flask of dusk potion at her belt. ‘At the moment, anyway.’

  Uki put his paw over hers. ‘I think I can take the Shrike on my own. Save your potion for now.’

  ‘Be careful,’ said Kree. She had her little spear at the ready, for all the good it would do.

  ‘Look out for more soldiers,’ said Uki. Taking a deep breath, he slipped out from cover and began making his way towards the Shrike as quickly and quietly as he could.

  Ten, nine, eight metres. He ran on tiptoe, a rustle in the grass, lost in the constant whispering of the reeds.

  As he got closer, he could hear the Shrike taunting the boy. ‘You know what we do with poachers,’ he was saying, his voice low and mean. ‘We take them back to Bloodthorn. We put them on spikes. Right through their bodies. It takes them hours to die …’

  ‘Please,’ the boy spoke through sobs. ‘It was just a frog …’

  Uki could see his face twisted in pain as the Shrike gave his ears another jerk. Then he caught sight of Uki and his eyes widened in surprise. The Shrike saw the boy’s expression change and turned round, just as Uki was closing the last couple of metres.

  ‘What’s this?’ The Shrike dropped his prize and turned towards Uki, raising his arms, spikes pointing outwards. There was no need for him to draw a weapon with those at the ready.

  ‘Leave that child alone,’ said Uki, in what he hoped was a threatening growl. The Shrike laughed and stepped forwards, swinging his spiked right arm down and across in a blow that would have punctured Uki’s chest.

  If he hadn’t seen it coming, that is.

  Just like when he had been attacked in the twin cities, Uki’s new senses seemed to wind down time. The sounds of the marshes fell away as the reeds stopped their endless waving. He could feel the slow beat of his heart, sense the power of the spirits filling every drop of his blood …

  The Shrike’s arm was drifting towards him at a crawl. The spikes twinkled, each needle-tip finely sharpened. Moving almost casually, Uki stepped aside and grabbed the Shrike’s wrist with both hands. The armour was boiled leather, dyed and polished to a sheen. He could smell the lacquer and linseed oil. He could feel its smoothness and the muscles of the Shrike’s arm underneath.

  Then, dragging the arm with him, Uki stepped sideways and swung himself around in a circle. The Shrike was yanked from his feet and hurled, like a hay bale or a sack of potatoes, up and over the pond, beyond the reeds on the far side, where it disappeared from view. As time snapped back to its normal speed, Uki heard a crump, followed by a howl of pain. And then silence.

  Uki turned to see the young rabbit staring up at him, eyes wide. ‘How … how did you do that?’

  ‘Magic,’ said Uki, smiling. ‘Are you hurt?’

  The young rabbit reached down to his leg, where a wire snare was cinched tightly round his ankle. It had cut through the fur into his skin and there was blood covering his foot.

  ‘Well done, Uki!’ Kree and Jori ran up, just as Uki was bending to inspect the rabbit’s leg. He heard a familiar clomp, clunk and looked around to see Coal there too. He had been a few seconds behind, but in time to glimpse Uki throw the Shrike. His mouth was hanging open, wide enough for dragonflies to get caught inside.

  ‘We need to cut this wire,’ said Uki. ‘Have we got anything to do that?’

  ‘My sword is sharp,’ said Jori, ‘but it will take some time to cut through copper. Maybe we could pull the snare out at the stake?’

  ‘I have some cutters.’ Coal had scrambled down from the path and was hobbling over to them. ‘But afterwards you’re going to tell me how you did that.’

  Jori crossed her arms. ‘No questions, remember?’

  Uki looked away. He didn’t like hiding things, especially since Coal had been nothing but kind to them.

  ‘Charcoal?’ The wounded rabbit recognised Coal as he drew closer.

  ‘Bo Gurdle? Is that you?’ Coal shrugged his pack from his shoulders and began to rummage in it. ‘Hold still. The more you move, the more the snare will tighten.’

  ‘I was just … catching frogs …’ The young rabbit – Bo – was trembling with the pain. His brown eyes showed whites all around. He looked like he was about to pass out.

  ‘Here. Clippers.’ Coal drew a small pair of bronze tongs from his bag. He moved to where Uki was holding Bo’s leg and examined the snare. ‘It’s cut deep,’ he said. ‘It’ll be tricky to get off.’

  Just then, a sound of voices came from the far side of the pond. Angry voices and the clatter of armour. Every one of the rabbits pricked their ears and looked at each other, frightened.

  ‘Sounds like there are more Shrikes,’ said Jori.

  ‘And they’ve found their flying friend,’ added Kree.

  ‘They’ll be upon us before long,’ said Coal. ‘And I’d like to see you throw six or more into the swamp without getting spiked.’

  The clattering sound of armour sounded again. The Shrikes had left their injured comrade behind to search the marsh. Coal was right: they didn’t have much time.

  All eyes turned to Uki, who blinked back, clueless.

  ‘Well?’ said Jori. ‘What shall we do?’

  The only thing Uki could think of was to pray.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Gurdle Gumbo

  ‘Kree, how quickly can you run back and bring Mooka here?’ After the first few moments of panic, an idea had begun to form in Uki’s head.

  ‘As quickly as a falcon,’ said Kree, ‘as she soars across the plains, swooping down like a bolt of lightning, on a mouse that has come out of its burrow to—’

  ‘Just do it, will you?’ Jori snapped. Kree stuck her tongue out, then scuttled off back to the path, keeping her ears low and out of sight.

  ‘Bo.’ Uki took the injured boy’s paw and squeezed gently. ‘Do you think you’d be able to guide us out of here? Back to your village?’

  ‘I can’t … walk …’ Bo had his teeth gritted as Coal wiggled the wire about, trying to get a clean cut.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Uki. ‘We can give you a lift.’

  ‘The Shrike are sure to spot Mooka,’ said Jori. ‘Perhaps we should try to attack them before they reach us. We could spread out and pick them off …’

  Uki shook his head. ‘It’s too dangerous. And they won’t spot any of us if Bo can lead us through the reeds. He must know some secret pathways that the Shrikes don’t.’

  ‘Gurdles have more secret pathways than whiskers,’ said Coal. There was a metallic snip as his clippers cut through the wire. He began to carefully peel it away from Bo’s leg. The young rabbit winced as it came free and let out a yelp that he quickly stifled with his paws. Jori had a bandage at the ready, binding the wound clean and tight.

  ‘I know it hurts,’ whispered Uki. ‘But can you try and tell us which way to go? The other Shrikes will be here any minute.’

  Bo nodded and pointed along the pond’s edge, following the line of reeds. As Uki began to gently lift up the injured rabbit, there was a scuffling sound on the path behind them. A great ball of fur on two spindly legs came bouncing through the long grass and down the bank, just as a shout went up nearby.

  ‘I’m here!’ Kree was clinging to Mooka’s back, grinning wide and wild. ‘I had to leave the staves and ropes behind, but I’ve got all our packs. We rode like the plains wind, but I think the Shrikes might have just seen me.’

  ‘Here, take Bo!’ Uki forgot about being gentle and tossed the little rabbit up to Kree as if he weighed no more than a heron feather.

  ‘How …’ Coal began, but Uki was already moving, running along the reeds’ edge in the direction Bo had shown them.

  ‘Come on, old man,’ Jori called, chasing after. Three or more armoured figures could be seen, gathering at the top of the bank and jostling to be the first to scramble down.

  Mooka took off, speeding ahead of everyone with long, bouncing strides. Uki and Jori sprinted after, with poor Coal bringing up the rear, swinging his crutch and bounding as fast as he was able. H
is face was bright red with effort and his cheeks puffed out as he panted.

  When they were nearly at the far end of the lake, Kree swung Mooka into the reeds, disappearing from sight. Uki and Jori reached the spot a few seconds later and pushed their way between the tall stalks. There was much shoving and stumbling as they fought their way through the thick plants to suddenly emerge at the very edge of the water. They saw Mooka, neeking with worry, while on his back Bo and Kree argued.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Uki asked. ‘Why have we stopped?’

  ‘He wants Mooka to go into the water, but there’s snakes in there! I saw one swimming … it was big enough to swallow us all whole!’ Kree was holding the reins tight and almost shaking with fear.

  ‘It were just a hopsnatcher … a grass snake,’ said Bo. ‘We scared it off. Besides, we don’t have to go in the water. There’s stepping stones, just under the surface.’

  ‘Whatever we’re going to do, we have to be quick,’ said Jori. ‘Those Shrike will see the path we pushed through the reeds, and now we’re backed up against this lake …’

  Uki stared where Bo was pointing. He could just make out – a few centimetres under the surface of the dark, soupy water – a round, solid object. A log, maybe, or a stone. There was no time to examine it further, to test if it was safe. He took a breath and leaped for it, landing with a splash and a skid … and standing firm, the water only up to his ankles.

  ‘Bo’s right! Come on … across the stones.’

  Squinting to spot the next underwater platform, Uki hopped, hopped and hopped again. Behind him, he could hear splashes as the others followed. It didn’t take long to cross the small lake and make it to the far bank, where a slight dent in the reeds hid what must be another secret path.

  As soon as his feet were on solid land, Uki turned to watch his friends. Jori was only a single stepping stone behind him. He reached out and helped her make the last leap. Mooka was managing to land on each tiny platform with surprising accuracy, with Kree gently talking him through every hop. Coal had caught up with them too and was halfway across, using his crutch as a kind of vaulting pole.