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The Crystal Caves

Page 2

by Jamie Smart


  Dev nervously glanced around, scared of what might pounce out at them from the Wildening. Boja, however, didn’t seem that fussed. He was far too distracted by his own rumbling stomach.

  ‘No … waffles,’ he grumbled.

  ‘I don’t think they have waffle shops out here,’ Dev replied. ‘But if I see one, I’ll let you know.’

  Boja’s stomach-rumbles accompanied their climb down the mountain. Most of the time it was a long, groaning noise, but sometimes it boilked, sometimes it even sque-e-eaked, like a terrible song played by too many terrible instruments.

  By the time they reached the edge of the forest, it had become a little too much for Dev to bear.

  ‘Boja, your belly is so noisy!’

  ‘HU-U-U-UNGRY,’ Boja whined, flinging his head back for maximum effect.

  ‘Well, here, what about … this?’ Dev reached into a withered bush and plucked an overripe bobbleberry. It looked small, wrinkled and tough, and even a little bit hairy.

  Boja sniffed it suspiciously, then popped it into his mouth. It crunched loudly between his teeth as if he was chewing a pebble. ‘Not … food,’ he moaned, fishing the half-chewed bobbleberry from between his lips and plopping it back onto the bush.

  ‘Mum used to tell us these stories about how if we didn’t eat all of our dinner, she’d scrape our plates over the Wall and into the Wildening,’ Dev said. ‘And then these horrible creatures called groakers – like greasy little gnomes, with huge bellies but tiny thin legs – they’d scuttle out of the darkness and they’d stuff the scraps into their mouths. And then they’d be hungry for more, so they’d climb over the Wall, and they’d come and find us, and they’d start eating us too, starting from our toes and working their way up!’

  He laughed nervously at the memory of it. ‘Me and Santoro were so scared. We used to eat everything off our plates, every last crumb!’

  He turned to see Boja, his eyes wide, his mouth agape. His trembling paws reached back to grab the half-chewed bobbleberry, as he lifted it to his mouth and reluctantly swallowed it.

  ‘Probably for the best,’ Dev said, tucking the flember book under his arm and slipping his backpack from his shoulders. ‘But you don’t just need to eat old bobbleberries, Boja. I was going to save this till later but, well, I packed us some supplies.’

  The thought of something decent to eat made Boja’s nose twitch excitedly. ‘SUPPLIES!’ he yipped, not necessarily knowing what the word meant.

  ‘All right, all right!’

  Dev laughed, rooting around in his backpack and pulling out a strange, lumpy-looking device cobbled together from old bits of wood. ‘Oh. That’s my Fibbulator. Hang on.’

  He cast the Fibbulator aside and reached in for something else.

  What he pulled out was a cube, short poles sticking out from its sides and a light bip-bip-bip-ping at one end. ‘Rassleclock,’ Dev muttered, pulling more things out of the backpack. ‘Bimcockle. Ripplybollop. Optylopops. A spring-loaded Fisplestaw. But no … food … at all.’

  He scooped the tools back inside his backpack, then slid the flember book in between them. ‘I’m sorry, Boja. I packed in a hurry. I was too excited. I must have … forgotten … to pack the freeze-dried waffles.’

  Boja flung his arms up in total desperation. ‘HUNNNGRYYYY!’ he cried, waggling his paws as if summoning waffles from the sky. Gentle sparks of flember danced out from his fingertips, sparks which caught upon the branches above him and PLINK-PLINK-PLINK-ed out a number of tiny pink flower buds.

  An idea flickered inside Dev’s brain.

  ‘Boja, what if you gave a little bit of your flember to the bobbleberry bush?’

  Boja lowered his arms, drawing his flember away from the branch as its little flowers wilted away. He stepped cautiously towards the bobbleberry bush. Then he reached out a paw and pointed a finger down upon its roots. Bright, sparkling flember wisped across his fur. It crackled through the stalk, spiralling out along the leaves, the whole bush suddenly shining with a beautiful blue glow.

  And then, to Boja’s utter delight, a plump round bobbleberry PLIP-ed out from inside. And another. PLIP! PLIP! PLIP PLIP PLIP!

  Boja reached in, plucked a shiny bobbleberry and slipped it in his mouth. As it burst between his teeth, his whole face rolled up in pleasure.

  ‘It’s your own flember you’re eating.’ Dev smiled. ‘So it’s not like you’re losing any of it. Bring the plant with you. We’ve still quite a way to go.’

  Boja wrenched the bush out from the ground, carrying it like a big glowing candyfloss. Every few seconds he plucked another bobbleberry and for every bobbleberry picked, a new one grew in its place.

  Dev watched him enviously. He was hungry too! But he knew he couldn’t eat a single bobbleberry from Boja’s bush, not without taking a little bit of Boja’s flember with it. He looked, instead, for what other food the Wildening might offer, and he found a few wild vegetables he recognized. Peppers, for example, as well as flonions and sprickets. Like the bobbleberries had been, they too were all withered and overripe. Tiny. Wrinkled. A bit hairy. Still, he plucked a few of each and stuffed them inside his pocket, chewing on a spricket skin until he could find anything better.

  As they walked deeper into the forest the ground became more uneven. The trees here grew upon a slope, nothing but mud and rock between them, and when rain started to pitter-patter through the leaves the mud turned into a wet, squelchy gloop.

  ‘Maybe we should find somewhere to shelter,’ Dev said, a cold raindrop hanging from the tip of his nose. ‘Somewhere dry.’

  Boja, his cheeks stuffed full with bobbleberries, stopped. He raised a finger in the air then dragged it up the nearest tree, chuckling at the trail of bright glowing flember he was leaving upon its trunk. Flowers, moss, even sparkling blue mushrooms poked out as the line of flember crackled on ahead, splitting along the branches and producing the thickest, plumpest leaves Dev had ever seen. It then hopped, like a lightning bolt, over to the next tree, lighting it up just the same. Another thick canopy of leaves rustled out as flember trailed down the trunk, along the ground, and back towards Boja’s big red foot.

  ‘No more … rain.’ Boja grinned, plucking a few more bobbleberries as he sat beneath their umbrella of leaves. Dev sat down beside him. He beamed with pride at his brilliant robot bear, nuzzling his head into Boja’s soft fur, and listening to the rain as it pattered down outside their little camp.

  ‘We’re making good progress already,’ Dev said.

  ‘Bobbleberries,’ Boja chomped.

  ‘Exactly, Boja. You have bobbleberries. I have you. And together we’ll be in Darkwater before we know it.’

  He let out a wide yawn.

  ‘The Wildening’s not scary at all,’ he murmured. Then his eyes started to close, and he drifted off into a deep, deep sleep.

  4

  Where it all Went Wrong

  Dev awoke, shivering. He had been enjoying a dream about duck eggs on wildertoast and savouring every crunch, every imaginary squish between his teeth. That is, until a raindrop plopped down upon his nose, and suddenly he was miles away from the warmth of his mum’s kitchen.

  He was back in a cold, dark forest.

  And he was alone.

  Wherever Boja had gone he’d taken his flember with him, and their shelter of leaves had withered back into the branches. Now there was nothing to hold the rain back. Within seconds a few drops became a downpour, lashing against Dev’s skin as if scolding him, pounding at the mud as he struggled to stand.

  ‘BOJA!’ he shouted, his voice instantly swallowed by a great rumble of thunder. Huge, swaying sheets of rain filled the skies. Dev tightened his scarf around his neck, wedged his helmet even tighter onto his head and peered through the darkness. ‘BOJA WHERE ARE YOU?’

  And then he saw it.

  A snoring lump of red fur sliding down the slope. ‘BOJA!’ Dev threw himself into the mud as if it were a waterslide. He tumbled down the slope at speed, spinning, rolling and gasping
for breath between mouthfuls of thick, gloopy mud.

  Then he remembered something. The Portable Airbag he’d installed inside his backpack! He clawed in desperation at the front hoop of his straps, hoping the airbag might inflate, that it might at least keep his head out of the mud.

  But it didn’t work. Nothing came out.

  Instead he slammed into Boja’s mud-soaked backside and awoke Boja with a start. ‘GNUUUUHHH-LMPH!’ the wet bear wailed. Dev gasped, his head bobbing above the surface just long enough to exclaim something similar, as Boja quickly, instinctively, drew an arm around Dev’s waist.

  And Dev could see the sky again.

  He saw lightning crackle across the clouds as if it was tearing them apart. He saw each and every raindrop, lit up like a million tiny shards of glass. For such an almighty storm it all looked so … beautiful.

  Suddenly a huge wave of cold, sloppy mud crashed down upon them both, wrenching Dev from Boja’s grip and dragging him away. Dev flailed around, his hands desperate for something to hold onto, but all he could see was mud. All he could hear was mud.

  Then, without warning, all the mud spilled away from beneath him.

  And he splashed down into a lake.

  He pulled his head above the waters, gasping great lungfuls of air, looking frantically around for any sign of Boja. Then he dived back under, straining to see a bulging eye, a furry bum, even just a wisp of red fur through the murk.

  But nothing.

  Only when his chest felt like it was ready to burst did he kick back to the surface. He grabbed onto a bobbing lump of bark and floated himself towards the water’s edge. Then pulled himself up slimy green tree roots and hauled himself onto land.

  A slow, wet grinding noise sounded from behind him.

  And then … FLOOMP! The Portable Airbag finally deployed. Dev’s backpack ballooned out around him, sending his tools, and the flember book, spinning into the air.

  He collapsed, exhausted, on top of it.

  ‘Boja, where are you?’ he whimpered.

  Something sticky crawled across his skin. He looked down to see dark slimy leeches on his arms. ‘YEARGH!’ he yelped, plucking and flicking them off. With a renewed urgency he squished the inflatable airbag back inside his backpack, gathered up his tools and the book, and stuffed them in with it.

  He felt a sharp pain in his neck. He pinched at the cause of it – a small round insect. It had a large pointy stinger protruding from its backside. Another insect plomped down onto his hand, and stung him too. Then they were all around him. Thin, buzzing ones. Wide, flappy ones. Bright, glowing ones. They FRRP-ed and FWWP-ed and ZWIPP-ed around him, their hums ringing in his ears, the sky darkening under the weight of them all.

  Dev ran from the water’s edge, and into the shadow of the trees. The ground became boggy. Sticky, squelchy mud gripped around his ankles, pulling on his legs until he stumbled face first into it. With a loud GA-A-A-ASP he heaved himself back out, now covered in brown slop, squelching and parping like some sort of toilet monster.

  The insects fluttered their way back to the shore. Toilet monsters, it appeared, were not on their menu tonight.

  Dev wiped the mud from his eyes. He stared, bewildered, at his surroundings.

  A glowing, uncanny wilderness bustled around him. Dev had studied what grew around Eden but this … this was all new. Every flower, plant, fern and tree was completely unknown to him. It was all so utterly beautiful.

  And then he heard a noise he recognized.

  The roar of a large robot bear.

  ‘BOJA!’ he yelled with relief.

  The roar came again, this time followed by a bright flash of light through the trees. Dev quickened his pace, battling through long sharp reeds, slipping down muddy banks, clambering over thick tree roots. The lights flashed brighter and quicker in succession.

  ‘BOJA, I’M COMING!’

  Fists clenched, teeth gritted, Boja’s mud-soaked body heaved with every breath. Flember crackled around him like a storm cloud, while a low, thundering snarl rumbled deep inside his chest.

  And then Dev saw what Boja was growling at.

  Huge, monstrous-looking shapes lurched and swayed through the trees – what looked like creatures of fur, foliage, antler and horn. They brayed, they screamed and they growled, encircling Boja from the shadows.

  And then one of the shapes slinked out. It walked on all fours like a wolf, its body thick and jagged, its skin so dark it looked as if it was made from the night itself. A red flame burned inside its hollow eye sockets.

  It edged towards Boja. Dev opened his mouth to shout, but he was too late – the wolf had already scrambled up Boja’s back, its jaw, lined with sharp black teeth, widening to take a bite. Boja, however, was faster, gripping the wolf’s head with his huge paw and slamming it down into the ground.

  Dev ran to help, only for a second wolf to pounce from the darkness, and sink its teeth into Dev’s arm. ‘YOWWWW!’ he screamed. The dark wolf bit down harder, its muzzle bunched up, its furious red eyes blazing. The pain crackled through Dev’s bones until – POW! – a huge red fist slammed into the wolf’s ribs, rocketing it high up into the air.

  ‘DEVVVV!’ Boja yelled, scooping Dev up into his arms. Then he turned, and he ran as fast as his huge red feet would carry him. He leapt across the uneven ground, bowled through thorny bushes, bundled over fallen trees, until suddenly, without warning, the uneven ground sloped down into an almost vertical drop. Boja skidded, but he couldn’t stop in time. He tumbled down the wet mud, curling around Dev like a protective ball as they rolled, and rolled, and rolled down the mountainside. All Dev could hear was the crashing of trees around them, and Boja’s golden heart DOOMPF-DOOMPF-DOOMPF-ing so loud it sounded as if it were about to explode.

  Then a THUD!

  And a CRASH!

  The creaking of metal.

  More thuds, more crunches, smashes, tinkles and crumples.

  Faster they rolled. And faster.

  And fasterandfasterandfaster.

  At which point Dev’s rattled, rolled and frazzled brain could take no more, and he passed out.

  5

  A Friendly Face

  Dev pulled the bed covers up and over his head.

  ‘Just a bit longer, Mum,’ he mumbled. ‘Then I’ll fix the generators. I promise.’

  A throbbing pain shot down his arm. He opened his eyes to see the insect stings and the leech marks across his skin. They merged together in a splatter of red, angry blotches.

  Three deep, blackened scars sliced between them.

  ‘The dark wolves,’ Dev whispered, as the memories slowly bubbled back into his head. ‘The Wildening. Boja!’

  He leapt out of bed, realized he was naked, then leapt back in again, pulling the covers up beneath his chin. This wasn’t his workshop. This room was cold and empty. Its metal walls peeled with the remains of a pale green wallpaper. Its ceiling hung low and curved. A faint afternoon light shone in through one of its half-shuttered windows.

  ‘Ah, you’re awake!’ A woman cheerfully poked her head around the doorway. She carried a metal bowl across the room, and placed it down on a small table beside the bed. ‘You must be hungry.’

  Her thin black lips cracked as she smiled. Her face was almost white, the skin clinging to her cheekbones, her greying hair bundled up and around her head like some over-elaborate pastry. She wore what looked like dirty overalls, torn, folded, and fashioned into a dress.

  Dev read the nametag sewn onto it.

  ‘Eat.’ She beckoned.

  Dev looked inside the bowl. It held a lumpy dollop of steaming green slop with an oily black sheen, looking remarkably similar to something a hufflepig might cough up. It smelled the same too.

  Dev shook his head, and pulled the covers further over his nose.

  ‘You’ll be hungry soon enough.’ Rebecca smiled, sitting by his feet.

  ‘My clothes …’

  ‘Oh, we had to take them off. You were all muddy, couldn’t have you d
irtying up our sheets.’

  Suddenly the whole room tilted to one side. Everything, bed and table included, slid a few inches across the metal floor towards a set of double doors. Dev could hear shouting beyond them. He couldn’t quite make out the words, but he recognized them as being rather rude.

  ‘Your … your friend told me your name was Dev.’ Rebecca caught Dev’s panicked stare.

  ‘Boja! Is he …’

  ‘He’s fine, he’s OK.’

  ‘Where … where is he?’ Dev bundled the sheets up around himself, and stepped onto the cold floor. As he did, his legs wobbled and he crumpled into a heap.

  ‘Slow down, slow down.’ Rebecca knelt and helped Dev sit up against the bed. ‘Your body has been through a lot. You need to take things slowly.’

  ‘I need Boja,’ Dev mumbled.

  The room tilted again, further than before. As everything slid towards the double doors, they flung open to reveal a balcony and, just beyond its railings, a large, shiny black nose.

  SNIFF! SNIFF SNIFF SNIFF!

  A little further, and Boja’s wide, bulging eyes appeared.

  ‘DEVVVVVV!’ Boja squealed.

  ‘Boja!’ Dev’s heart swelled at the sight of him. ‘Are you OK? Are you hurt?’

  ‘Hungry.’ Boja’s eyes locked onto the bedside table, and the bowl of stew upon it.

  ‘This stew is for DEV.’ Rebecca gripped the bedpost with one hand, and Dev with the other. ‘He’s not well.’

 

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