by Alan Skinner
With the front of the oven snug against the open door of the furnace, Cres pushed a lever. The front door of the old oven slid open and its floor extended into the furnace. She nodded to Touch, who opened a small hole at the rear of the cart. Inside the oven, there was nothing left of the wagon they had used to bring the cinerite from the High Mountains. With a long metal rod, Touch pushed the stone off the oven floor into the furnace.
They all heard the thump as it landed and immediately felt its staggering heat as the air hit the cinerite. The fire stone roared and flames filled the furnace. Eerie blue light flooded the room.
Copper slammed the door of the furnace, sealing the fire stone inside. He rested his hand against it. Within seconds the door was too hot to touch.
‘Right,’ said Achillia. ‘Now power up the factories. Push the button, Copper.’
Pipes rumbled, valves squealed and gauges quivered as the furnace sent its power to the factories of Forge. Touch, Cres, Copper, Dot, Achillia and Beatrice emerged from the underground chamber and turned to watch as the factories came to life. Throughout Forge lights went on and machinery groaned; conveyor belts stuttered then slid into their endless journeys; boilers hissed and presses clanked. The factories flexed their muscles and went to work.
From every chimney of every factory came a belch of soot and steam as they coughed out the remains of the old fuel. The black clouds transformed into thin, almost invisible plumes of white that disappeared almost as soon as they were out of the chimneys. For the watching Myrmidots, used to seeing endless streams of black spewing from the chimneys, it looked unreal.
‘By the clouds!’ Achillia exclaimed. ‘It doesn’t seem possible!’
‘It makes the factories seem so clean!’ said Cres in amazement.
‘It would appear that you two have redeemed yourselves.’ Achillia looked at Touch and Cres. ‘I think we can forget about the Council. And even let you back into the Vault.’
Touch looked at Cres and grinned.
‘And,’ the Lord Mayor continued, ‘I have arranged a special dinner tonight. All the members of the Engineers’ Council will be there. And you two will be the guests of honour.’
The apprentices’ mouths fell open and they stared at Achillia.
‘And of course, Dot, you will also attend. Copper will be there anyway, as a senior engineer, but it is only fitting that you come, too,’ Achillia added.
‘Thank you,’ Dot said quietly, though she wasn’t too sure how much fun it was going to be having dinner with a bunch of old engineers.
‘Look,’ Beatrice said sharply. She nodded towards the factories.
The ribbons of smoke from the factories changed from white to blue. Not the deep, luminous blue of the sky, but a pale blue with silver specks that glinted in the sunlight.
‘It does look odd, doesn’t it?’ said Achillia, biting her bottom lip. ‘I hadn’t expected that. Still, it’s only harmless smoke.’
‘And it is rather pretty,’ added Cres, her eyes following a curling plume until it merged with the sky. ‘Much better than the old black smoke.’
‘And all the factories seem to be working OK,’ chimed in Touch, who really, really didn’t want anything to be wrong.
Copper and Dot exchanged glances.
‘I think I’ll wander down and do a check on all the factories. And you two,’ Copper said to Touch and Cres, ‘make sure you stay here for the afternoon and keep an eye on the gauges in the furnace room, like we agreed.’
Copper saw the look on their faces. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said reassuringly, ‘you can finish in plenty of time to get ready for the dinner.’
‘And you make sure you aren’t late, Copper,’ Achillia warned him. ‘I don’t want any excuses. You always seem to have something that just can’t wait. Well, not tonight.’
‘I’ll be there on time,’ Copper promised, though that didn’t stop the Lord Mayor from giving him a piercing glare.
After bestowing a hug on each of the other Myrmidots, Achillia and Beatrice walked back to the Town Offices. Cres nudged Touch.
‘C’mon, Touch. We have work to do.’
Touch nodded absently. He felt proud and he wanted to keep looking at what they had done. For the first time ever, something he and Cres had done had worked. But Cres was right. They had to get back to the furnace. Before that, though, there was one other thing to be done.
Touch turned to Copper. ‘Thank you for letting us . . . you know . . . for not being bossy,’ he mumbled, unexpectedly feeling very embarrassed.
‘You’re welcome, Touch,’ laughed Copper. ‘And you too, Cres. You both did well. The way you worked this last week showed me I was wrong about you. Keep it up and you’ll be as good as any engineers in Myrmidia.’
The apprentices’ faces glowed with pleasure. Copper’s words meant more to them than praise from Achillia or Beatrice or anyone else.
‘Now, off with you,’ Copper ordered.
Then as Myrmidots are inclined to do, they exchanged hugs. As Touch pulled away from Dot he planted a kiss on her cheek, and fled.
‘I think you have an admirer there, Dot,’ Copper said, smiling, when the apprentices had disappeared into the furnace room.
‘That was very unexpected,’ she replied, blushing. ‘He’s the impulsive type, that’s all.’
Copper laughed. ‘It’s the impulses you have to watch out for!’
Dot blushed some more and turned away to avoid answering. She looked at the factories and her eyes narrowed.
‘Copper, look!’ she cried.
Copper followed Dot’s gaze. ‘By the clouds!’ he exclaimed. ‘I don’t think this is good.’
They stared at the rows of factories that filled the town of Forge. Every one shimmered with a blue haze.
≈
There was laughter, applause, toasts and quite a lot of hugging in the grand Engineer’s Hall that evening. The dinner was a great success. As guests of honour, Touch and Cres sat between Achillia and Leonardo. When the apprentices were seated, Leonardo stood and bowed to them. Throughout the dinner, Forge’s Chief Engineer would look at them and smile broadly.
The table overflowed with food and Touch and Cres were sure they had never eaten so much. After dessert had been served, both Achillia and Leonardo gave speeches, in which they praised the apprentices’ determination and ingenuity; and when Leonardo reeled off the benefits of the new, inexhaustible fuel and the great service Touch and Cres had performed for Myrmidia, they couldn’t help but feel proud. They didn’t even mind when he made mention of their past failures and mishaps, as he ended by asking the engineers to stand and drink a toast to the two young apprentices.
When the formalities were finished, talk turned to the blue haze that came from the factories. Each engineer had a different theory as to the cause, but they generally agreed that there was nothing to worry about.
‘Black coal, black smoke,’ rasped old Wilhelm, who was even older than Leonardo. ‘Blue rock, blue smoke. It’s logical.’
All the engineers who heard nodded, and ripples of agreement went up and down the table. But then, everyone always agreed with Wilhelm as he was very old and a bit deaf and agreeing was much easier than disagreeing.
Only Copper and Beatrice voiced any doubt. To no one in particular, Beatrice, murmured, ‘I don’t think smoke glows, does it?’ But she said no more for the rest of the evening.
Like Beatrice, Copper said little throughout the dinner. After old Wilhelm made his comment about the blue smoke, some close by heard Copper mutter under his breath, ‘Might be logical but it doesn’t mean it makes sense.’
It was nearly ten o’clock when everyone said goodnight and headed to their beds. Touch and Cres walked from the hall into the moonlit night. From the top of the steps, they looked out over Forge. In the distance, at the edge of the town, they could see the blue glow of the factories. The blue seemed brighter and deeper than it had earlier in the day.
‘Look!’ exclaimed Cres. She pointed to the
sky.
Touch raised his eyes, then went very still.
‘Touch, you don’t think that maybe there is something wrong? You know, maybe we should have thought of something else and left the cinerite where it was,’ Cres said hesitantly.
Touch found his voice. ‘Don’t be silly,’ he snapped. ‘Why do you want to spoil it? That’s just the reflection from the factories.’
Cres nodded. ‘OK, if you say so, Touch. Well, I’m off to bed. See you tomorrow.’
She skipped down the steps and disappeared into the darkness. Touch watched her go, then slowly made his way home. He deliberately looked straight ahead as he walked. But as he pushed open the front door, he stopped and gazed once again at the moon, a bright blue globe in the black sky.
Chapter 7
Spoorhounds
Leaf lay pale and still in the bed. The early morning sun that came in through the window did its best to wake her, but Leaf’s eyes remained closed. Crimson walked away from the window and sat down again by the young scout. Opposite her, on the other side of the bed, was Miniver, her head resting on the blanket, her eyes fixed on Leaf.
Leaf had lain unconscious for three days. Bright had been tireless in her care of her patient but there was little she could do. She feared that the injury to Leaf’s head was more serious than it appeared. She was grateful that at least Leaf’s breathing had remained steady, though soft, and that her leg and arm had seemed to set properly. All they could do was wait and hope.
Miniver had not strayed from Leaf’s side since they had carried her in on the stretcher. There had also been a constant stream of other visitors. Every Muddle in Muddlemarsh had stopped in at least once. But there was the harvest to finish and after asking about the injured scout, they went about their chores. Yet the atmosphere in Muddlemarsh was subdued and all the Muddles felt the shadow of sorrow on their hearts.
Crimson’s concern for Leaf had pushed all else to the back of her mind. She had almost forgotten the strange, haunting calls and the terrible waking dreams. Concern for Leaf filled her thoughts now.
Sitting by Leaf’s bed, she found herself going over the details of the young scout’s accident again and again. Something wasn’t quite right. She looked down at Leaf’s hand. Leaf always had perfectly manicured nails and it pained Crimson to see them chipped and jagged. The damage was greater on Leaf’s right hand, with one nail almost torn from the finger and the others severely chipped and broken. At first, Crimson had been too worried about Leaf to give it much thought. But over the past few days she found herself wondering time and again why Leaf’s nails should have been so damaged.
‘Miniver,’ said Crimson, ‘I’m going back to the cliff top. Wave should be there and I want to ask him something. I’ll be back in a little while.’
Miniver raised her head and gave a little nod, then laid her head back on the blanket. As Crimson left the room, she felt pleased that Miniver would be the first Muddle Leaf would see when she opened her eyes.
When Crimson arrived at the top of the hill, Wave was tending a young tree. One of its slender branches had snapped and was attached to the tree only by its bark and a thin strand of wood. Engrossed in his work, Wave wasn’t aware of Crimson standing behind him. She watched as he carefully brought the two jagged ends together. When they fitted perfectly, he spread a sticky brown substance over the break, before binding it with a piece of gauze. Over the gauze, and running almost the length of the branch, he laid a thin wooden splint, which he bound to the branch with twine. Crimson admired the deft and gentle way he tended the tree.
‘Hi, Wave,’ she said when he had finished.
‘Hiya, Crimson. Didn’t hear you.’ Wave smiled. He pointed to the tree he had mended. ‘In five years we’ll be getting coffee from this tree.’
‘Wave, where was Leaf when she fell?’
‘Dunno, Crimson. I didn’t see. I didn’t know she was up here,’ Wave replied.
Crimson was surprised. She had assumed that Leaf had been helping Wave before the accident. ‘How did you know she had fallen?’ she asked.
‘Heard her yell. I looked around, didn’t see her and went to where I thought the yell had come from. It seemed to come from over there.’ Wave pointed to the spot a few metres away at the edge of the cliff. ‘So I went and looked, and that’s when I saw her lying at the bottom.’
Crimson and Wave wandered over to the spot and looked down to where Leaf had lain.
‘Everyone assumed she had been working up here with you,’ said Crimson.
‘No, I didn’t expect her for a little while. I saw her the day before and she said she’d be here to help but she’d be a bit late. She had to come the long way.’ Wave pointed to the right, in the direction they had travelled with Leaf on the stretcher.
‘Where was she camped?’ asked Crimson.
‘In her meadow, over there.’ Wave pointed to the northern end of the valley. It was a place the young scout particularly loved and had become known as Leaf’s Meadow. ‘On the far side, in the woods.’
Crimson thought for a moment. ‘So she had to walk all the way down to the road and come up through Home?’
‘It’s the shortest way to get here from over there,’ said Wave.
‘You don’t think she would have tried to climb the cliff, do you? Instead of walking all the way round?’
Wave gave a sad half-smile. ‘No one could climb up there without ropes. And you know Leaf. Rugged stuff isn’t her style.’
Crimson agreed. Climbing cliffs was not like Leaf at all. ‘Something’s not right, though. If Leaf came up the hill, why didn’t you see her? Why didn’t anyone see her? Why did she walk to the edge of the cliff? Did you notice her fingers when we found her?’
Wave shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘What about them?’
‘Her nails were broken, like she’d been scrabbling on rocks. But it’s not rocky up here and there’s no sign of her having slipped and tried to grab on to something,’ Crimson explained, looking around. ‘We all assumed that she was up here with you when she fell. But I don’t think she did. I think she fell trying to climb the cliff. But why would she do that?’
‘No way Leaf would do that,’ said Wave. ‘That’s definitely not her thing. Leaf’d have to be pretty desperate to even think of doing that.’
‘Desperate – or frightened,’ said Crimson softly.
She looked down across the green and peaceful valley, which stretched from the foot of the cliff to the small mountains of Beadledom some distance away. On her right, thick woods stretched from the valley to the sea, broken only by the road to Beadleburg. Halfway up the valley, the forest thinned and gave way to a large, flat meadow filled with long, green grass and wild flowers. At the top of the meadow was the woods where Leaf had pitched her camp.
Behind the woods was a glittering, silver lake. The trees fringed the west and north sides of the lake, then continued on to the High Mountains. Few trees interrupted the flat, grassy land on the side of the lake that faced Beadledom. It was a serene and beautiful spot and it was hard to imagine anything in such a place that could have frightened Leaf.
‘Thank you, Wave. I think I’ll walk down to Leaf’s camp. I’ll get some things for her. She’ll need them when she wakes,’ said Crimson.
Wave nodded. ‘She’d like that.’ He hesitated. Crimson saw the terrible sadness in his face and the silent plea in his eyes. ‘She will wake . . . won’t she, Crimson? Leaf will be OK?’
‘Of course she will,’ Crimson replied. ‘I promise.’
Wave smiled gratefully and Crimson turned and started to walk down the hill.
‘Crimson!’
She stopped and looked back.
‘I don’t know what could have frightened Leaf, if something did. This is Muddlemarsh. I don’t think any Muddle has ever been frightened here. I never have. Not before. But, yeah, I am now. You know, in case Leaf . . .’ Wave slowly turned and walked away. Crimson watched until he had disappeared among the leaves and shadows of
his young trees.
≈
Before heading to Leaf’s camp, Crimson stopped at the fire station and asked Calamity if she would like to come with her. Calamity didn’t need to be asked twice. A nice stroll in the woods with Crimson sounded like just the thing.
The pair walked along the road to Beadledom. A short distance from Home the road crossed a small stream. As they went over the bridge, Nanny’s goat bleated hello, then continued her pursuit of dragonflies and dandelion wisps. Not far from the bridge they left the road and headed along a path north through the woods and to the meadow.
Like all the other Muddles, Calamity felt subdued by Leaf’s accident. Usually when she was out with Crimson, the puppy liked to talk, keeping up a pleasant, companionable yapping. Today, however, she remained silent.
They emerged from the trees into the meadow. Neither could resist a glance to their left at the cliff from which Leaf had fallen, and at the rocks where she had lain.
Almost halfway across the meadow, Calamity stopped. She raised her nose into the wind. She sniffed, then began running in circles round Crimson. After several circuits, she ran back to Crimson.
‘There’s a strange scent,’ she barked. ‘It’s faint, but I’m sure it’s an animal.’
The people of Myrmidia and Beadledom tended not to have a lot to do with the Muddles. They thought Muddles were unpredictable, unreliable and altogether rather odd. Until then, Crimson had never really given it much thought, but perhaps the animals of Myrmidia and Beadledom felt the same way about the animals of Muddlemarsh, for very few ever strayed into Muddlemarsh. Though, she thought, if this was the scent of an ordinary animal, why didn’t Calamity recognise it? It was another odd piece for Crimson to add to the puzzle.
Crossing the meadow they entered more woodland. A small path took them further into the trees until they came to the small clearing where Leaf had pitched her tent. Through the trees on the far side, Crimson could see sparkling flashes of light as the sun frolicked on the water of the lake. A small, unhurried brook washed over round, grey stones to the west, and eastward, towards Beadledom, the grassy floor of the valley rose into gentle hills.