The Crystal Caves

by Jamie Smart

  ‘This one is rotten,’ Keeper interrupted. ‘All the hibbicus in Darkwater are rotten. And the rotten ones are even more explosive than usual.’

  ‘HIBB-KISS!’ Boja proclaimed, grabbing the hibbicus plant before Keeper could stop him. A crackle of flember sparkled out between his paws, plumpening the tired, blackened hibbicus and ripening it to its full freshness.

  He brought it closer to his wide-open mouth. His eyes closed. His tongue waggled in anticipation.

  ‘NO!’ Keeper yelled, grabbing the hibbicus back. As she pulled it away, a mist of flember flowed out through its skin, wafting across the air and back into Boja’s fingers. The hibbicus started to rot and wither in her hands. She stared at it in disbelief. ‘What … what did you do?’

  ‘Boja can share his flember,’ Dev smiled proudly. ‘I think it’s to do with the flemberthyst crystal he bit into when he was born. He can ripen anything that grows with it, and if he eats that food then, well, he’s just taking his own flember back in.’

  Keeper puffed out her cheeks. ‘Well that could be useful around here …’ she started, before Boja yoinked the hibbicus from her hands, sparkled it full of flember and plumpened it once again. ‘Like the bobbly-berry.’ He grinned, once again lifting it towards his mouth. Keeper reached to snatch it back, her metal fingers sinking into its husk. Flames sparked out. She shrieked, yanking the hibbicus away from Boja’s paws, away from his flember, as she flung it high into the air and quickly huddled over Dev.

  With a loud BOOM the hibbicus exploded above them.

  A shower of rusted debris clattered down.

  ‘I told you the hibbicus here are HIGHLY explosive.’ Keeper coughed. She scraped a lump of smoking hibbicus off her shoulder. ‘They’re good for blowing holes in things. They’re not so good for eating. You, bear, do you understand what I’m saying?’

  A sizeable chunk of rusted engine CLONKED onto Boja’s head.

  ‘Hungry.’ He pouted.

  Then, just as quickly, Boja’s mood changed again. His bottom lip dropped. His eyes bulged. He stared excitedly down to the ring below them, gesturing wildly towards something rustling through the wreckage.

  ‘FEVVUS!’ he shrieked. ‘FEVVUS CAME WITH US!’

  9

  Not Fervus

  A goat stood below them, its pale skin stretched taut across its long, bony face. A couple of yellow teeth stuck out from its mouth. Its hair was dark, grey, matted thick in some patches, and scraped off in others. Its wobbly legs seemed barely able to hold its little body up.

  ‘BEHHHH!’ it warned angrily.

  ‘FEVVUS!’ Boja squealed back.

  ‘Boja, I don’t think that’s Fervus,’ Dev warned. ‘It looks more like a … mean Fervus.’

  Boja didn’t hear a word of it. He was already flinging himself over the wreckage and tumbling down to the ring below. He crashed, bum first, through the roof of a shed, then rolled out through its doors. Before Dev could shout ‘please don’t chase that goat’, Boja was chasing the goat. His arms outstretched. His tongue flapping in the wind.

  A look of sheer delight on his face.

  Mean Fervus BEHHHHH-d in alarm, scooting between a pile of crumpled mine carts. Boja barrelled through them with his stomach. ‘FEVVVVUS!’ He roared with laughter. ‘FEVVVVUS, COME BACK!’

  ‘That …’ Keeper spluttered with rage. ‘That … BEAR!’

  ‘Sorry, Keeper! I’ll get him back!’

  ‘BE CAREFUL OF THE HIBBICUS!’ Keeper yelled. But Dev was already gone, sliding down to the ring below, following Boja’s trail of destruction through the snarls, bleats, growls, giggles and honks that echoed around the quarry.

  ‘BOJA!’ Dev shouted. ‘Boja, slow down!’

  ‘BUT IT’S FEVVUS!’ Boja beamed, as he clambered up the side of a rusted old crane.

  ‘It’s not Fervus. Fervus is in Eden. We’re not IN Eden any more!’

  Dev stumbled over a pipe, falling just short of a clump of hibbicus leaves. Holding his breath, he backed away slowly, only for his hand to brush against another clump. ‘This is like a minefield!’

  A loud creaking sound suddenly tore across the quarry. Boja, it seemed, was far too heavy for the crane he was perched upon, and it was buckling under his weight. ‘WEEE-AAAAA-WOOOOO!’ he cheered, riding the crane down towards the ground before disappearing into a huge plume of dust. And then – BOOM! An almighty explosion flung Boja back into sight, spinning him around in the air as he grinned inanely at Dev.

  ‘Found … HIBB-KISS,’ he garbled, tumbling back down into the shadows of the quarry. Dev raced towards him, sliding down into the next ring, hopping frantically around the hibbicus leaves as he called out for Boja.

  But by the time he got there, Boja had already gone.

  ‘BEHHH!’ Mean Fervus bleated from somewhere deeper down inside the quarry.

  ‘BEHHHHHHH!’ Boja boomed back.

  Dev followed their voices down into the lowest ring, but he was starting to feel tired. Rebecca was right. The journey from Eden – or rather, the roll from Eden – had clearly weakened him. He slowed to catch his breath. His hand stretched out, feeling his way around the dark rocky cavern

  He’d taken a wrong turn somewhere.

  Walked into a dead end.

  He felt leaves under his fingers. Withered, crinkled leaves.

  More hibbicus plants.

  And they were everywhere.

  His heart pounded loudly in his ears.

  ‘Oh, flip,’ he whispered, unsure which way to turn. ‘Oh, flip, oh flip, oh—’

  ‘BEHHHH!’

  Dev turned to see Mean Fervus blur past, then a huge red giggling bear, both of them racing towards the quarry’s central column of rock. Mean Fervus leapt up onto its scaffolding, leaping from platform to platform. Then STOMP! STOMP! CLATTER! STOMP! Boja followed behind, excitedly jumping as if he and the little goat weighed the same.

  ‘Boja, be CAREFUL!’ Dev yelled, wincing as the platforms creaked noisily under the bear’s heavy feet. He cautiously backed away from the hibbicus leaves and started to follow, clinging onto the bent-pipe railings as he climbed the platforms higher and higher and higher out of the quarry.

  Back into the drizzle.

  And up to the very top.

  He staggered into the low light of early evening, towards the huge domed building. It was as wide as it was tall, its walls pitted with half-collapsed archways all painted black with a thick, tarry goop. Pylons surrounded its perimeter, their long, rattling chains trailing in through what was left of its roof. And on its front hung a sign. A rusted, battered sign, with a face Dev had seen before.

  ‘HEY, DEV!’ Boja and Mean Fervus were having a stand-off inside the building’s main archway. Mean Fervus growled protectively. Boja grinned and waved. ‘ME AND FEVVVUS ARE PLAYING!’

  Dev made his way towards them, but he was struggling. His head was swimming. His lungs felt like they might burst. He knelt down, trying to catch a breath while his eyes started to focus again.

  And then he saw something glinting in the dirt.

  He crawled closer, reached out a hand, and slid a small, hard stone out from between where Boja and Mean Fervus were standing As he brought it up to the early evening light he could see myriad colours glistening inside.

  ‘Is it FOOD?’ Boja asked hopefully.

  ‘It’s better than that.’ Dev’s voice trembled. ‘It’s a … flemberthyst crystal.’

  10

  A Way In

  ‘ARE YOU BOTH CRAZY?’ Keeper clanked up the precarious spiral of metal platforms. ‘THIS QUARRY IS LITTERED WITH HIBBICUS! ANY ONE OF THEM COULD HAVE BLOWN YOU UP!’

  Once she reached the top, her whole body heaved with a loud hiss of steam. ‘Dev, this is NOT the place to go exploring.’ She sighed.

  ‘Keeper, LOOK!’ Dev cried, holding the crystal out between his finger and thumb. ‘I found a flemberthyst!’

  Keeper peered at it closely. ‘So you did.’

  ‘You wait until you see it glowi
ng!’ Dev replied. ‘I saw loads of flemberthysts inside a cave in Eden – my Nonna showed them to me. The Flember Stream travelled up through them, all the way to the surface, and lit them all up like a million light bulbs!’ He leapt excitedly on the spot. ‘If we’ve found a flemberthyst, then we might be near to the Flember Stream!’

  ‘I told you already,’ Keeper huffed. ‘There’s no flember left in Darkwater.’

  ‘The Flember Stream’s here, the map says it is.’ Dev clenched his fist around the flemberthyst. ‘So where did all Darkwater’s flember go? And why is there a flemberthyst all the way up here on the surface?’

  He stared up at the big, fluffy-cheeked face on the sign above him.

  Wilburforce Mining Corp.

  Mining Corp.

  MINING!

  ‘You said you were mining shiny rocks. You were talking about flemberthysts!’ Dev shrieked. ‘That guy with the crazy hair, I saw him in the painting, and now up THERE too! He was in charge, right? He mined all the flemberthysts out of the ground, didn’t he, and now there’s no way for flember to reach the surface!’

  Keeper spoke in a low voice. ‘Wilburforce, he—’

  ‘He’s not here, I know. Rebecca told me. But if Albert Wilburforce was digging up flemberthysts, then maybe his mines lead right down to the Flember Stream! If we could just get down there I bet we could find it. We could find a way to bring flember back to Darkwater, and then me and Boja could carry some home for the Eden Tree! We could fix everything!’

  Dev hopped between Boja and Mean Fervus, moving towards two large metal doors inside the archway. ‘We just need to find a way in,’ he mused, feeling around for a lock, or a bolt, or anything he might be able to undo. But there was nothing. Nothing except a small metal box clamped to the wall, with a red light flashing above it.

  ‘Blessed be Dahlia,’ Dev muttered under his breath. ‘Who’s Dahlia?’

  A pair of metal arms locked around his chest, hauling him up off the ground. ‘We should go,’ Keeper growled. ‘It’s getting dark.’

  ‘Not yet!’ Dev pleaded. ‘I want to look inside the mines!’

  ‘You can go looking for rocks another time.’

  ‘They’re called flemberthysts!’

  ‘I KNOW WHAT THEY’RE CALLED.’

  An awkward silence filled the air, a silence only broken by raindrops TINK-TINK-TINK-TONK-ing across Keeper’s shoulders.

  Mean Fervus took his chance. He broke away from Boja and leapt, yellow teeth bared, he chomped the crystal from Dev’s hand. Then he turned, skidded between Boja’s legs, and within seconds Mean Fervus disappeared beneath a pile of upturned mine carts.

  ‘The flemberthyst!’ Dev yelled.

  ‘Leave it!’ Keeper snapped, carrying Dev away from the doors. ‘If we don’t leave now we’ll be walking back to the Village at night. And Darkwater is no place to be stomping around in the dark, not unless you want to tread on a hibbicus and blow yourself into the sky.’

  Dev grimaced at the memory of Boja being flung around by an exploding hibbicus. ‘OK, OK.’ He sighed. ‘But can we come back here tomorrow?’

  ‘Maybe,’ Keeper replied.

  ‘Maybe!’ Dev grinned, an excited cheer inside his chest. If Keeper was anything like his mum, a maybe could become a yes with just a little more persistence.

  And a yes could bring them even closer to the Flember Stream.

  11

  Stew

  Back inside the Village it was as warm as a fart, and just as unpleasant-smelling. The air hung thick and muggy, hazing around the glowing green lanterns that swayed gently from the ceiling. All the miners of Darkwater were in here. They looked old and tired. Their faces were craggy, scarred or drooping, their hair either wild or missing completely. Some wore dark goggles, while others hid behind scarves, hoods or oversized beards. Their overalls were dirty, their boots were heavy. Everything clinked, rustled or growled as they moved.

  That is until they saw Boja, squeezing himself in through the double doors, and everyone fell silent.

  Everyone except Rebecca.

  ‘THERE you all are!’ She stretched her arms out wide. ‘You’ve been gone so long!’

  Keeper perched Dev onto the bar as if he were an ornament. ‘Keep him here, OK? And the bear. I don’t want to spend the night chasing after them both.’

  ‘Won’t you stay too, Keeper?’ Rebecca asked. ‘Have something to eat with us here, in the warm. Can’t be very cosy in that cold tower of yours.’

  ‘Tower?’ Dev peeped.

  Keeper rolled her eyes. ‘I have a busy night,’ she huffed, dragging her shawls across the Village and out through the double doors. ‘I always have a busy night.’

  Dev turned to Rebecca. ‘Keeper has a tower?’

  ‘Sounds grander than it is,’ Rebecca replied. ‘But you two are just in time. I was about to prepare dinner!’

  Dinner! Both Dev and Boja’s stomachs rumbled at the thought of it. Boja’s rumbled so loud it shook the whole Village, rattling the pictures on the walls.

  ‘I’ll make sure you get double helpings,’ Rebecca squeaked, spinning open a hatch behind the bar, pulling on a pair of long, rubber gloves and lowering herself down into the storeroom.

  Dev turned to Boja and started checking him over. The big red bear had, after all, tumbled down into the quarry and been exploded into the air by a hibbicus plant, and yet all he had to show for it was a charred patch of fur on his bottom. ‘Are you OK?’ he asked, poking a finger into Boja’s ear. ‘No aches? No pains? That was quite an explosion.’

  ‘Hibb-kiss!’ Boja giggled, clearly having enjoyed the experience much more than Dev had enjoyed watching it.

  Suddenly Rebecca was back, hauling a crate of blackened, withered hibbicus up and onto the floor. She carried it carefully, ve-e-e-ry carefully, to the pipes against the wall, before tipping it over one of the funnels.

  Suddenly the whole room was alive with noise. The hibbicus plants CLONK-ed and CLANG-ed and FUDDUDD-ed their way up the maze of pipes, across the ceiling and into the fat end of the huge, metal stalactite. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Small explosions dented out from its sides. SKKKK! CLANK! WHIRRRR! Hibbicus rattled their way down inside it, and then SPLTHPTHPTH! Something rather disgusting-sounding worked its way through the thin nozzles at the end.

  Rebecca raised a bowl. Then she pulled one of a multitude of dangling cords, and watched with delight as a swirl of sickeningly oily stew curled out.

  ‘STEW’S UP!’ she yelled, sliding the first bowl towards Dev. He looked down at the same mulch he’d been offered earlier. Black and green and weirdly lumpy. His stomach turned at the sight of it. The miners didn’t look too excited either, each of them grabbing at their bowls, whispering, ‘Dahlia save us,’ then reluctantly shovelling the oily muck into their mouths. They burped, one after the other, before clutching their stomachs in pain.

  ‘If you don’t like stew, Dev, then you’re clean out of luck.’ Rebecca slapped the hulking great contraption hanging down beside her. ‘This clever machine right here is the HIBBICANNON, and it keeps all of Darkwater fed. We can get a whole load of delicious meals out of it. Stew, for one thing. Then there’s stew soup, stew casserole, cold stew, stew cake, lumps of old stew on a stick, stew stew, and leftover stew.’

  She yanked on a different cord. The machine spat a disgusting lump of brown into a mug, followed by a trickle of steaming liquid. ‘Maybe a drink of lukewarm stew smoothie, instead?’

  Dev’s cheeks flushed a pale shade of green.

  Rebecca shrugged, and took a gulp herself. ‘To WILBURFORCE!’ she shouted, swinging the mug up towards the painting of Albert Wilburforce.

  All the other miners joined the toast, raising their bowls and spilling most of their stew down themselves.

  With one more, huge gulp, Rebecca downed her brown sludge, and unleashed an extraordinarily loud belch.

  ‘There’s quite a fire in it.’ She winced, steadying herself against the bar. ‘You’re getting all of the hibbicus plant in
there, including the explosions.’ She held her chest, gurning as if she’d just swallowed a pile of rocks.

  Dev stared back at her in horror. Then he turned to Boja, who was lifting a bowl of stew up to his mouth and licking his lips excitedly.

  ‘Maybe let’s not eat the stew,’ Dev whispered, grabbing the bowl from Boja’s paws. ‘It’s making everyone look unwell. I still have vegetables in my pocket, the ones I picked from the Wildening, so we can share them later instead. They’re old and withered but they’d be tasty for you when you fill them with your flember.’

  Boja watched his bowl being passed along the bar to someone else. His bottom lip trembled as he tried to hold back the tears.

  Suddenly everyone in the Village started cheering. A short, squat man, his greying blond hair pulled so far back into a bun that it stretched his face around his head, had climbed up onto one of the tables. He had no eyebrows, at least not until he raised a hand and drew, with his blackened fingers, two arched lines over his forehead.

  He cleared his throat.

  ‘Go on, Nobbins!’ someone called out.

  ‘Ohhhhhh …’ the man on the table started, in a key clearly too high for his range.

  ‘What blessed souls are we—’

  Burp!

  ‘Eating hibbicus by the sea—’

  Burp! Burp!

  ‘What delicious stew …’

  He gulped, as if holding back sick.

  ‘We chew … chew … chew—’

  Bu-u-urp!

  ‘No happier could … we … be-e-e-e-O-O-U-U-U-U-U-RP!’

  The song was sung again, this time with the accompaniment of all the other miners. They mumbled, groaned and burped the words to their own, lazy tunes, then everyone raised their stews towards the painting, and toasted Wilburforce again.