Copper

by Rebecca Lisle

  ‘So that bit was true?’

  ‘Granite dragged her out, but already the ice had hardened around her, like a glass coffin. He put the block of ice in a cave near the lake and gradually more and more ice gathered round it.’

  ‘I saw it,’ said Copper, remembering it with a shiver.

  ‘That was when I escaped. I was going to take you back to Spindle House you see, with Linden. Linden was my dear little boy, he was six then, and you were just four. I knew they would look after you down there.’

  ‘Linden was a boy!’ cried Copper. ‘Oh, I thought he was a boat!’ She told Aunt Ruby all about the wonderful boat that had helped them escape.

  ‘My husband made that boat,’ said Aunt Ruby, smiling dreamily, ‘and I called it Linden after my boy. Granite hated it, because Ironwood had made it, but he couldn’t stop me from keeping it on the lake. I’m glad it found such a good use. Well, to go back to my story …

  ‘It was a terrible night when we ran away. The snow was a deep blanket over everything and because of the wind it was drifting and bitterly cold. I was carrying you on my back, all wrapped up in a blanket you were, but Linden, dear Linden, he had to walk, I couldn’t carry him too. And he was struggling – we both were – battling against the wind and the driving snow. The blizzard got worse and worse, I thought we’d have to turn back and then suddenly, Linden wasn’t there. He’d disappeared. I can remember it all so clearly, the snow was swirling round and I could hardly see. I turned back … I lost track of where I was, of time, of space … I called, shouted and called, for hours and hours but he had just disappeared … I couldn’t believe it. I screamed and shouted and cried … I nearly gave up. Linden meant everything to me, but I had you too, so, then …’

  ‘Go on, Aunt Ruby, go on.’

  ‘Then, I did a terrible thing. Instead of taking you back home to your uncle, I took you with me. I stole you. We got on a train and we didn’t get off until it reached the end of the line, as far away from here as possible. I didn’t know your father was alive and hiding at Spindle House. I would never have done it if I’d known he was there. I thought I needed you more than Greenwood, specially since my own dear Linden had gone. Oh, Copper, can you forgive me?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Copper, squeezing her aunt’s hand tightly. ‘You must have been so sad about Linden, I can understand that. But, Aunt Ruby, poor Linden, what did happen to him, do you think?’

  Aunt Ruby shook her head sadly.

  ‘I’ll never know.’

  Inside Copper’s coat, Ralick twisted and turned and whispered very, very quietly, ‘I think we can guess, eh, Copper?’

  At last they arrived back at Spindle House and went straight to the kitchen where the smell of hot bread and porridge filled the air. Copper rushed in and hugged her father and uncle, Oriole and Robin and Silver. Questrid wasn’t there.

  Everyone crowded round her, firing questions at her, trying to feed her and warm her and look after her.

  ‘Stop, stop. I’m fine,’ she laughed. ‘I’m really fine. I’ll tell you everything in a minute, but first, for those that don’t know, this is my dear Aunt Ruby. She’s sorted everything out, and although she doesn’t know it,’ she added, ‘she is going to meet someone very special very soon.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ laughed Aunt Ruby.

  ‘Oh, nothing,’ Copper smiled mischievously. ‘But there’s a person who lives here, in the room above the stable and I was just wondering … would you go and tell him breakfast is ready? He’s probably busy chipping at bits of stone but I’m sure he’ll be very pleased to see you.’

  ‘All right,’ said Aunt Ruby, and looking very puzzled she went out.

  ‘I don’t think she’ll be back for ages and ages,’ said Copper, ‘not when she finds out that Questrid’s real name is Linden!’

  ‘Is it? How do you know?’ cried Cedar.

  ‘I just do,’ said Copper. ‘I worked it out. Now, what else? Oh yes, this: this is Silver’s cub and he’s peed down my jumper.’

  Copper pulled out the little wolf cub and laid him alongside Silver in her wicker basket. Silver had been washed, brushed and fed and looked well again. As Copper settled the cub, Ralick dropped out of her open coat and tumbled into the basket.

  Copper stared, struck suddenly with the resemblance between them.

  ‘I think Ralick could be a wolf cub too. See, he’s the same size and shape. He and the cub have been snuggled up together so happily. A wolf – I always wondered what he was.’

  So it’s a wolf on my charm bracelet, she thought. And now I know why Questrid thought he’d seen Ralick before, because he had, when he was little and we were both at the Rock.

  She kissed Ralick and tucked him in beside Silver. His nose was quite wet from being sucked by the cub.

  ‘Poor Ralick,’ she whispered, giving him a little squeeze and when he didn’t reply with his usual grumble, she stared down at him anxiously.

  ‘Ralick?’

  The little cub was wriggling and nuzzling against its mother, making tiny sniffling and whimpering noises. Beside it, Ralick lay stiff and straight-legged. The cub looked so alive, Ralick looked so un-alive – as if the cub had sucked all the energy out of him. Even Ralick’s eyes had lost their usual special look, they were glassy, stuffed-toy eyes, not like her Ralick’s at all. She tried one more whisper: ‘Ralick?’

  But Ralick had gone. She knew he was never going to speak again.

  Copper couldn’t speak either.

  I’m lost, she thought, I’m lost without him. This can’t happen. She stood up, unable to look at anyone.

  ‘I’ll just nip out and, er, get something,’ said Copper miserably, hoping no one would see her tears. ‘I left my, er, in the …’ And she dashed outside.

  Ralick had gone.

  What shall I do without you? I should never have put that cub in my coat with him, she sobbed. He stole my Ralick. I can’t bear it. I can’t manage without him. Ralick!

  She kicked at the snow. She banged her fists against her side.

  Dear Ralick, gone. Really gone. Then, slowly, slowly, another idea began to grow. The wolf cub would surely have died if Ralick hadn’t been there. He kept saying it was nibbling him, sucking him. And Ralick had helped keep it warm, so Ralick had saved the wolf cub.

  I’m going to ask if I can have the cub to keep for my very own, she thought. He’ll be a bit of Ralick, like Ralick’s never really gone. In the same way that Silver belonged to Amber the wolf cub can be my wolf. He’ll be a new Ralick.

  She wiped away her tears and feeling for a hanky in her pocket, her fingers closed on the charm bracelet in her pocket.

  The bracelet!

  The bracelet was charged up again, it was warm and buzzy and full of life. It was ready to do something and there was still something very important for it to do.

  Copper walked slowly around the ice, staring at the frozen woman inside. Now that the moment had come, Copper was calm.

  She slowly undid her bracelet, and laid it out in a circle on the blue ice.

  The first one was the dog. But now she knew it wasn’t a dog, it was a wolf, both Ralick and Silver … and the new cub.

  Then two identical babies: Cedar and Greenwood.

  The heart: that signified love, everybody’s.

  The bird: Robin’s birds and the minuscule birds that had saved her.

  The mountain: that had to be the Marble Mountain.

  The gold coin: Copper examined it closely. Yes, there was a tiny dragon on one side and a minuscule tree on the other, so Great-Grandfather Ash’s gold.

  The tree: of course, a Beech tree and a Spindle tree. All trees.

  Knitting needles: did they symbolise the magical ones of her mother’s that made gold or were they Copper’s?

  And the hammer: like Thor’s hammer, thought Copper, the great destroyer. The tool she’d needed to defeat Granite.

  The circle of charms was complete. They lay there sparkling and fizzing in the sunlight until sudd
enly, a peculiar tiny snapping sound followed by a thin metallic clink, indicated something amazing was happening.

  It was the great thaw.

  Copper clipped her bracelet back round her wrist and took a step back. Hundreds of tiny cracks and lines tracked a path across the glassy surface of the ice. They spread like forked lightning: snap! crack! ping! they zigzagged through the ice.

  It was happening at last. Her mother was going to be free. The icy tomb was breaking and she was going to meet her real mother.

  And then she couldn’t.

  I can’t, I can’t, she thought. I’m not ready for this. She left me. She might not want me now. I might not want her. I can’t see her yet.

  She covered her eyes with her hands and backed away, getting ready to run.

  What if she doesn’t want me? What if she doesn’t like me?

  There were loud splintering noises, ice fell to the ground with a thud.

  I must get away and hide. I can’t see her, she thought, turning and getting ready to run.

  And then a voice cut in through her thoughts and it was a voice she recognised, although she hadn’t heard it for years and years and it was such a strong memory that came flooding back to her.

  ‘Copper.’

  Copper opened her eyes. The voice had unlocked something inside her. She knew that voice and now, when she looked and saw her mother, it was the sweetest thing.

  ‘I know you,’ said Copper, in surprise. ‘I remember you. Now, I remember you.’

  ‘I remember you,’ said her mother.

  They stood awkwardly, unable to make a move towards each other.

  Copper studied her mother’s face, her eyes darting over it, looking at her hair, eyes, nose, cheeks, a face that she’d forgotten and yet it was so familiar.

  ‘You left me,’ said Copper. ‘I wish you’d never left me. I’ve been looking for you all these years, hoping you were alive, dreaming about you.’ She didn’t know what to say, and was surprised at this sudden rush of anger. How could this mother of hers have left her?

  Amber stepped forward and tentatively held out her hand.

  ‘But you’ve found me,’ she said taking her hand and gently placing the palm of Copper’s hand against her cheek.

  ‘Yes,’ said Copper in a choked voice.

  ‘And perhaps it’s a good thing. Perhaps you will be a better girl for being without me. A stronger girl.’

  ‘Maybe,’ sniffed Copper. ‘But I wish you’d stayed with me.’

  ‘Have you been happy?’

  Copper thought. ‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘But not quite complete.’

  Amber nodded.

  ‘I do understand, and I’m sorry if you’ve ever missed me too much or been sad. It will never happen again. Look!’

  Their two golden charm bracelets were touching.

  Copper felt her wrist growing hotter and hotter. Her bracelet was fizzing again. Granite’s gold bracelet on her mother’s wrist was beginning to melt: the charms were losing shape, becoming blobs.

  ‘It’s collapsing,’ laughed Amber. ‘Look at the strength of our love, Copper. Our love for each other is doing that!’

  ‘Amazing!’ gasped Copper. They held up their arms and let the gold drip in great golden globules onto the snow forming a large golden puddle.

  Amber picked up the golden disc and handed it to Copper.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Amber. ‘I’m free. See how strong you are! See what you’ve accomplished.’

  ‘Was it really me? Yahoo!’ yelled Copper. ‘Yahoo!’

  She weighed the gold disc in her hands, glanced at her smiling mother, then took aim and threw it with all her might up into the sky. It flew fast, spinning as it went, shimmering in the sunshine, up and up into the air like a flying saucer.

  ‘It’ll never drop!’ cried Copper. ‘It’ll go on for ever!’

  Then they heard the flapping of wings, a shadow passed over them and Glinty shot through the sky.

  ‘Glinty!’

  She chased after the gold disc, caught it in her mouth and flew away with it towards the Rock.

  Copper and Amber laughed and clapped their hands.

  ‘There,’ sighed Amber. ‘It’s all going to be fine.’

  They turned as a figure came towards them from the house. Cedar, worrying about Copper and sensing something had happened, had come out to investigate. When he saw Amber he ran to her and gathered her into his arms.

  They stayed locked like that for several minutes, while Copper watched, smiling and waiting. Then they opened their arms to her and she joined them.

  ‘Stay here and be here for me, please,’ she begged. ‘I never want to have to do anything like this again. I need you both. I’ve been needing you for six years.’

  ‘I promise,’ said Amber and she kissed Copper’s cheek.

  ‘And I promise,’ said Cedar, kissing her other cheek.

  Then Copper ran. It was too wonderful and too marvellous and too much.

  She ran back to the kitchen and dropped into the rocking chair, picked up her knitting needles, and cast on some stitches.

  In her mind she pictured Amber and Cedar together and smiled.

  Amber was warm at last.

  Copper held her needles and waited, but nothing came. No stitches, no click clack of the needles. She stared at the thin metal needles in surprise. This had never happened before.

  I can’t knit, she thought. Where’s my pearl and my plain and my looping the wool over? My fingers just won’t do it. She put the needles down beside her, realising, oddly, that it didn’t matter. It was the same as Ralick going, in a way. It just proved that big things had happened, and nothing was going to be the same again.

  A tingling lightness spread from her toes and tips of her fingers, all through her body. She felt so content: a warm, smiley feeling which she had never had before.

  I know what I want to knit. Nothing. Nothing because I’m quite finished, she thought happily. I’ve got all the bits I need to be complete. Ralick would be proud of me for not knotting. This is really the end.

  Beside her in the wicker basket, the little wolf cub wriggled and snuggled beside his mother.

  ‘Not the end,’ whispered the wolf cub quietly. ‘Nothing ever ends completely, Copper Beech, wait and see. Wait and see.’

  And he grinned and if Copper had seen it, she would have seen that the expression on his furry face was exactly like Ralick’s.