Uki and the Swamp Spirit

by Kieran Larwood

  ‘Who is this Gollop anyway?’ Jori asked. ‘Some kind of god?’

  ‘She’s the god,’ said Coal. ‘Around here, anyway. They believe she was about before Bandylegs. Before the old goddesses, even. She’s a giant frog and she dug out the Fenlands herself with her webbed feet. They reckon she can still be seen sometimes, swimming in Toadtwitch Lake. The mist is her breath, the thunder her croaks … the usual old gubbins.’

  ‘Can we find the Maggitches on our own?’ Uki asked. ‘Do you know where they might be?’

  Coal twitched what was left of his ears. ‘All I know is that their territory is to the south. I’ve heard rumours that they have a warren on Gollop’s Mound, which is a hill a few miles from here. But they would shoot me on sight. You too, probably. They’re even harder to get on with than the Gurdles.’

  Uki turned his head, sensing the pulsing evil of Charice. It was indeed coming from the south, but it might as well have been on the other side of the world.

  A rabbit came over to them with some bowls of gumbo and a jug of ale, but Uki no longer felt hungry.

  He watched the folk around him dancing and singing, as if they had no cares at all. Even Kree and Coal were tapping their feet and nodding their heads. And yet, in the very water under their feet, there were signs of things changing. Evil was seeping out from the heart of the fen, where Charice was brewing something terrible. Uki could feel it in his bones, even as the music played; each note, each beat counting them closer to the end of everything, and no one seemed to care except him.

  INTERLUDE

  The bard stops there and takes a swig from his waterskin. All day long, the tale has gone on and now the tower room has begun to grow dark again, shadows stretching out and seeping into each other. From her perch by the blocked doorway, Jori pokes her nose out to spy on their besiegers.

  ‘They’ve lit their fire again,’ she says. ‘Looks like they’re settling in for the night.’

  ‘Perhaps we can have a fire too,’ says the bard. ‘I think my story is done for the day. My voice won’t hold out much longer.’

  ‘Can’t you please go on?’ Rue asks. ‘Just a bit after supper?’

  The bard shakes his head. ‘Let’s save it for tomorrow. It’s a good way to kill the time and we have nothing else to do but wait.’

  Rue pouts a little, but nods. ‘You were right, earlier. It has made me feel a lot better,’ he says. ‘Uki was a bit like me. He had rabbits wanting to hurt him, but he had to be brave about it. Jori and Kree too, of course.’

  ‘It was a scary time,’ said Jori. ‘And we were just children like you, Rue. But you don’t get any less scared as you get older, unfortunately.’

  ‘Really?’ Rue’s eyes widen in surprise. ‘Are you scared now, then?’

  ‘Of course. Being brave doesn’t mean you aren’t frightened. It just means you carry on with what you have to do in spite of it. You get the job done, even though you feel like running away and hiding in a burrow somewhere.’

  Rue thinks about this for a moment as the bard goes about kindling a small fire and rationing out their food for supper. It’s a good few minutes before he speaks again.

  ‘It’s funny how stories can do that, isn’t it? Make you feel better, I mean. I was terrified before, but hearing about how Uki had to be strong … I feel like I can be strong now too.’

  ‘That’s what tales are for,’ the bard agrees. ‘They can pass the time, they can hand down history, but most of all they can show us that other rabbits go through the same things as us. Stories tell us that we’re not alone. Every thought and feeling you’ve ever had has been thought and felt before.’

  ‘We’re all part of the same story,’ says Rue. ‘The story of all rabbits.’

  ‘That,’ says the bard, smiling, ‘is something a true bard would say.’

  *

  Night falls quickly after they eat and Rue curls up in his cloak by the fire to sleep again. It’s surprising how tired he feels, even after doing nothing all day. The crackle of the flames soon lulls him to sleep and he welcomes it, imagining Jaxom dashing towards them with a rescue party, his jerboas leaping across the foothills.

  At some point in the early hours, Rue dreams a terrible nightmare. He is in the tower, being hunted by one of the swamp snakes. An enormous, coiled thing, dripping with slime. Its red eyes glow and its mouth yawns open, showing metal fangs the size and shape of Jori’s sword.

  Its head tracks Rue wherever he moves until it leaps, shooting out at him like an arrow. Those fangs jab into Rue’s chest, just above his heart, punching into him with a deafening snap!

  Rue jolts awake, kicking himself out of his cloak, and lies there panting. It takes a moment for him to realise he’s still in the tower, but that the snake isn’t real. The snapping sound was just the fire, the serpent just a shadow from the bard’s story. Breathing slowly, he waits for his little heart to stop hammering so hard against his ribs.

  ‘Bad dream?’

  Sitting up, Rue sees Jori, still at the doorway, still staring out towards the Endwatchers.

  ‘Just a bit,’ says Rue. ‘Are you going to stay awake all night?’

  ‘For a few hours more. Then it’ll be Pookingford’s turn.’

  ‘He told you his real name?’

  ‘Oh, I’ve always known.’ Jori sniggers. ‘When did you find out?’

  ‘At the end of our last adventure,’ says Rue. ‘When I discovered he was in the Podkin story.’ He looks over to where the bard is snoring, unable to hear what they are saying, thank the Goddess.

  ‘Well, don’t tell anyone else,’ says Jori. ‘Not if you value your tail. Now, go back to sleep, little one. Nothing will hurt you while I’m here.’

  Rue nods and snuggles back up in his cloak. Knowing Jori is there, with her sword and dusk potion, makes him feel as safe as he ever did, back in his own bed in his own warren.

  *

  When Rue awakes, the bard is just clambering down from the rubble after finishing his watch. Jori has a pot of water on the boil and is adding herbs to make tea.

  ‘Morning, sleepyhead,’ she says.

  ‘Are the Endwatchers still there?’ Rue asks, rubbing his gritty eyes.

  ‘I’m afraid so,’ says the bard. ‘And no sign of rescue yet. It’s going to be another long day.’

  ‘Good job there’s lots of Uki’s story left to tell,’ says Rue. He still has the lingering image of that terrible snake in his head and would like to have his mind taken off it.

  ‘Yes, good job indeed,’ says the bard, rolling his eyes. ‘But can I have my tea first? I’ve only had a few hours’ sleep, you know.’

  ‘You can talk while you’re drinking,’ says Rue. ‘Help could be here any minute and I want to find out what happens first.’

  ‘You’re a hard master,’ says the bard, secretly happy to have such a keen audience. He takes his seat by the fire. Jori hands him a cup of tea, and he takes a quick sip before beginning Uki’s tale once more.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Swarm

  ‘Gollop’s big and Gollop’s wide,

  Her bollycracker’s a mountainside.

  Gollop’s big and Gollop’s strong,

  Her fat pink tongue is ten miles long.’

  As the night wore on, there was no sign of the singing and dancing even beginning to wind down. Uki had moved to the edge of the platform, as far away as possible from all the prancing and yodelling. Even so, there was a Gurdle with one of those twangy lutes perched on a root just a few metres away, singing about Gollop at the top of his voice.

  Uki sighed.

  Kree was over on the other side of the platform, giving young rabbits rides on Mooka’s back. Coal had left him a while ago. Uki glimpsed him here and there, talking to rabbits, looking at the edges of blades and metal tools they showed him, or just chatting and laughing. Even Jori had wandered off. He could see her by the grog table with a boy who looked about the same age as her. Much older than Uki, anyway. It made an uncomfortable knot of bad
temper bubble under his skin and he wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t even sure who he was angry at. The boy for talking to his friend? Jori for not staying by his side? Himself for not being out there like everyone else, having fun and laughing?

  It was all so confusing. Things were never this way when it was just him and his mother. There hadn’t ever been any other rabbits around to complicate things. In fact, he realised, this was the first time he’d ever been to a party of any kind. He had no idea what he should be doing, how he should behave.

  Mother. She would have loved to be here, to see this. She always talked about life in the rest of the Five Realms. About all the things they could see together, once they had escaped the Ice Wastes. If only she could be here now, beside him. Then this terrible loneliness might go away.

  Thinking of his mother, missing her … it made him feel like the lake they were floating on. Lights sparkled on the surface – life went on – but underneath it was dark and cold and bottomless. His sadness felt like that now. Like it would never end, just sink down and down forever.

  ‘That’s a very glum face you’re wearing.’ Uki looked up, to see Coal. The blacksmith had somehow managed to make his way over to him while holding two cups in his good hand and using his crutch. He had a lazy, lopsided smile on his face, which made Uki think he might have had a bit too much grog to drink.

  ‘Sorry,’ Uki said. ‘I don’t really know what to do at parties.’

  ‘You don’t?’ Coal handed him a cup and then tumbled himself down on to the root next to Uki, nearly knocking him into the lake in the process. ‘Don’t they have parties where you come from?’

  Uki thought back to his days in the tribe. There had been celebrations, he supposed, but as an outcast he had never been allowed near them. ‘I guess they did. But I was never invited.’

  ‘Really? A handsome chap like you?’ Coal belched so hard the raft rocked up and down. ‘Why was that?’

  Uki pointed to his different-coloured eyes and the two halves of his fur. ‘They didn’t like the way I looked,’ he said. ‘They thought I was a demon.’

  Coal blinked a few times, then let out a huge, husky bellow of a laugh. ‘A demon? You? You’re the cutest demon I’ve ever seen! Imagine if they got a look at me? That would make them run for the hills!’

  Uki couldn’t help laughing as well. To hear Coal describe it, it was a bit ridiculous.

  ‘Doesn’t it bother you?’ Uki asked, when he’d stopped chuckling. ‘The things rabbits say about you?’

  ‘It used to,’ Coal said. He looked out at the lake and, as Uki had been doing, seemed to see back into his past. ‘It used to bother me a lot. Made me doubt myself. Made me think it must be true.’

  His eye began to well up, but then he gave his head a hard shake and laughed again. ‘Damn lake,’ he said. ‘Making me go all thoughtful and melancholy. Something about looking out at the night water like that. All peaceful and mysterious, eh?’

  Uki nodded. It wasn’t the best thing to do when you had lots of worries on your mind.

  ‘The thing is,’ said Coal, waving his cup in the air, ‘you can’t let them get to you. All those rabbits with mean words to say … they have no idea who you really are, do they? They just see somebody different to them, and it scares them. Then they get angry for being scared and take it out on you. It’s the sort of thing little kittens do in the warren playburrows. They’re like babies, the lot of them. You and I, we can rise above, can’t we? We know it’s what’s inside that counts.’

  ‘A good heart and kind thoughts,’ said Uki, remembering what his mother used to say.

  ‘Yes.’ Coal looked at him, almost looked through him. ‘Yes. That’s right. My heart hasn’t always been good, or my thoughts kind. But I would like them to be. I would like that very much.’

  A silence fell between them then, and the sounds of the singing and dancing seemed to grow distant. Uki found he liked the company of this old, scarred rabbit. Despite what Jori might say, he didn’t want him to wander off again. And he wanted to show that he trusted him … that he was more than just a paid guide.

  ‘Coal,’ he said. ‘If you’d like to know, I can tell you about my quest. About why we’re here in the Fenlands, and how I was able to throw that Shrike around.’

  ‘Really?’ Coal gave a hiccup, his head swaying as he tried to keep Uki in focus. ‘That would be good of you. If you’re sure I can be trusted.’

  ‘I’m sure,’ said Uki. And he began his tale, from the moment he woke up in the graveyard to the day they arrived in Reedwic, following the trail of Charice.

  Coal listened intently to every word, stifling the odd burp with the back of his hand. His eye barely blinked as he heard all about Valkus and Gaunch, and how the spirits were trapped in the crystals on Uki’s harness.

  ‘Is that them?’ he asked in a whisper, as Uki’s tale finished. ‘Is that the spirits, glowing in those crystals?’

  ‘It is,’ said Uki. ‘And there is space for two more. I need to trap Charice and then Mortix. If I don’t, the whole world could end.’

  Coal let out a low whistle and scratched at one of his ragged ears. ‘Now that is a story and no mistake. A proper legend happening right here and now. No wonder you were wary about trusting me, what with this Endwatch and everyone else after you.’

  Uki nodded. ‘I’m glad you believe me,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry we couldn’t tell you sooner. And I’m sorry for any danger we might have put you in.’

  ‘Danger? Don’t you worry about that.’ Coal clinked his cup with the one Uki still clutched in his paw. ‘It’s an honour to be a part of something like this. A chance at being a real hero, instead of just a blown-apart blacksmith, hobbling around Hulstland.’

  ‘A part of it? You mean you’re not scared?’

  Coal laughed again. ‘Scared? Probably. Who wouldn’t be? But I’ll not be running off and leaving you. I said I’d get you to where you wanted to go and I meant it. Besides … I’d like to see how this all plays out. Maybe one day there’ll be a bard telling a tale about me, or singing my name in a song.’

  Uki smiled. He hadn’t really thought about tales and songs. All he wanted to do was complete Iffrit’s task. To keep everyone safe from the evils he had seen in his visions. How strange that rabbits might remember him for what he’d done. Supposing you survive, his dark voice added. Let’s not forget about that.

  He was about to answer himself with a few stern words, when there was a commotion from the rabbits gathered around the fire. Shouts and screams, very different to the raucous noises he had been hearing. Voices tinged with unmistakable panic.

  ‘Sounds like trouble,’ said Coal, standing up with the help of his crutch.

  Uki leaped up too, but was hit by such a powerful throbbing in his head, he nearly collapsed again. ‘Charice …’ he managed to gasp. ‘It’s her … she’s here!’

  Caught up with all his worries, he hadn’t felt the creeping rise of sickness. Not until it was too late – not until she was practically on top of him. But there was no mistaking it. His every sense was blaring out her presence … she was in the Gurdle village somewhere, only metres away!

  He reached behind his head, grabbing a spear from his harness. Even as he began to focus, to try and pinpoint the spirit in all the noise around him, there was a loud whooshing sound from the bonfire in the platform’s centre. Some substance had been thrown into the flames, making a mushroom cloud of smoke billow out. Green and stinking, the fumes rushed over the whole village in an instant, making every rabbit stagger and cough.

  ‘Attack! Attack!’ Alarm cries went up from the roofs, the banks, everywhere. ‘It’s the Maggitches! Maggitch attack!’

  Uki ran forwards, towards the glow of the bonfire. He could sense Coal next to him, hammer arm outstretched and ready to strike.

  ‘Uki! Where are you?’ a voice called out nearby, and suddenly Jori was there, wrapping her arms about him in a tight hug. ‘Thank Kether! I couldn’t find you! I got stuck talking to t
hat stupid, boring boy and then there were screams and smoke …’

  ‘It’s Charice!’ Uki shouted. ‘She’s here, in the village!’

  ‘Whiskers!’ Jori drew her sword and stared about her, trying to squint through the smoke. ‘Where’s Kree? Where’s Mooka?’

  Clutching arms, they moved forwards, Coal close beside them. Forms surged from the smoke, making them jump, but they were always just Gurdle rabbits, fleeing from the attack, trying to get somewhere safe. It was only when they reached the other side of the fire that they saw the figures.

  As the stinking green fumes began to ebb, they could make out a group of rabbits standing at the platform edge. Cloaked and hunched, their silhouettes seemed wrong somehow … bulging and unbalanced. Unlike any rabbits Uki had seen before. There were five or more, all draped in hooded cloaks of shiny leather. Squares of scaled skin, patterned with black zigzags. The capes hung low over their bodies and faces, almost hiding the tortured forms underneath.

  Almost.

  As Uki stared, the tendrils of smoke parted and the invaders came into focus.

  Plague. Rot. Virus. These rabbits had been ravaged by all three. Uki could see scraps of sandy fur and the long, splayed toes of the other fen natives, but they were the only traces of the creatures these things had once been. Charice’s touch had been cruel. Now their eyes were swollen, sealed shut with crusted pus. Mucus dripped from their nostrils, dribbled from their open mouths. Every scrap of flesh was blistered and raw, covered in layers of boils and sores that hung in bunches, hiding their paws or burying their necks in ripples of bulging tissue.

  ‘I think … I think that’s Granny Maggitch …’ Coal pointed with his hammer at the figure in the centre. His paw was clamped over his mouth, trying to block out the sweet, sickening stench of disease that was now even stronger than the smoking fire.