Gromak pointed to the corner of his tent, where a girl rabbit was sitting on a small stool having her fur painted with purple zigzags by a servant. Saying she had a face like a badger’s bottom was a bit rude, but calling her ‘beautiful’ was stretching it too. Unless, of course, you were attracted to long, yellow teeth and scowls that could wilt flowers.
Uki could sense Kree’s hackles begin to rise, but thankfully Jori cleared her throat before she could say anything. She bowed her head to the chief. ‘Lord Gromak. Please forgive our trespass on your lands. We did not mean to offend you in any way. I am Jori, granddaughter of Toxa, Lord of Clan Septys. My friends and I have urgent business in the twin cities of Nys and Syn, and are trying to get there as quickly as possible. My guide may wear the colours of the Kalaan Klaa tribe, but she has not lived with them for over two years. She has no part in the quarrels between them and your … delightful daughter.’
‘Clan … Septys?’ Gromak rubbed the side of his face where his scar ran. ‘Aren’t they the poisoners?’
Jori gave him a look that was almost as deadly as the contents of her belt pouches. ‘Indeed, we are. And I am sure you would not want to anger my grandfather by harming us.’
Clever, thought Uki. The name of Septys must fill everyone around here with terror. As long as he doesn’t find out that the Clan want to kill her as well, his dark voice added.
‘Harm you?’ said the chief. ‘Who said anything about harming you? I’m just asking you a few questions, that’s all.’ Uki noticed his eyes had widened slightly, and was that a tremble in his paw?
This might just work, he thought. As long as Kree doesn’t open her mouth and say something st—
‘You’d better not harm us, you fat neekneek bu! Children of stoats and weasels? The Kalaan Klaa are better than you stupid Miniki in every way! And as for your daughter, a badger’s bottom would be a delight to look upon compared to her squished-up, mouse’s armpit of a face!’
If Uki’s paws weren’t tied, he would have buried his face in them. Jori looked up to the tent roof and growled. As for Gromak, he was so furious his mouth hung open for a minute or more, while his eyes boggled so much they almost popped out of his head.
It was his daughter that finally broke the silence. She burst into tears and ran out of the tent. Gromak watched her go and then bellowed, ‘That’s it! Septys bedamned! Stake these intruders out on the plain for the buzzards! And get me a chair. I want to sit and watch their eyes being pecked out!’
The guards grabbed Uki and the others and hauled them to their feet. Uki tensed, ready to break his ropes and fight, but before he could, Kree shouted again. ‘A challenge! By the red grass of the Ba’alin Buraa, I challenge your finest rider to a race!’
Gromak stared at the little rabbit, gnashing his teeth. It was obvious that he wanted to do something violent and painful to her, but for some reason he couldn’t. This challenge must be some kind of tradition, Uki thought. He hoped Kree knew what she was doing. Mooka might be fast, but he had no tail …
‘Very well,’ he said. ‘What are your terms?’
‘If I win,’ said Kree, ‘you let us go. And take us to Nys as quickly as you can.’
‘And if you lose,’ said Gromak, ‘it’ll be the buzzard death for all of you. And I will have your skull for my soup bowl.’
‘Agreed,’ said Kree, and to Uki’s surprise, the guards released them all, even cutting through their bonds to set their paws free.
Gromak stood and pointed one thick arm towards the tent door. ‘Then let us race.’
Everyone turned and walked out of the tent. Jori bent her head down to Kree’s ear and whispered. ‘What are you doing, you crazy idiot?’
Kree winked back at her and Uki. ‘Relax,’ she said. ‘I can win this race, easy. Nothing to worry about.’
Uki remembered her saying that last night, right before they were captured in enemy territory and sentenced to death. He swallowed hard and followed the others over to the camp edge.
*
Word had spread quicker than a plains fire, and thewhole tribe were rushing out of their tents, pointingand shouting as they went. By the time they got toopen ground, there was a crowd of spectators ready, waving spears and cheering.
Mooka had been brought over. He gave a little neek when he saw Kree and hopped over to nuzzle her neck. ‘There’s a good boy,’ Kree whispered to him, scratching behind his ear. ‘You’re going to run fast as the wind for me, aren’t you? As fast as lightning.’
Uki moved as close to the jerboa as he dared and pretended to stroke him too. He took the chance to whisper in Kree’s ear. ‘Why are you doing this? Can’t we just let Jori talk her way out of it? That chief was scared of her, you know.’
‘This is a good plan,’ Kree winked at him. ‘The Miniki ride short-eared jerboas. Mooka is a long-ear. Everyone knows long-ears are the fastest runners. We will be back on our heroic quest in no time. Trust me.’
‘But, Kree, Mooka can’t run round corners! You said so yourself!’
Kree tightened the knots on Mooka’s bridle and hopped up on to his back. ‘It’s a challenge race,’ she said grinning. ‘Straight sprint, no corners!’
There was a cheer from the crowd as the Miniki champion arrived, already on her jerboa. She was a fierce-looking rabbit, her ears tied back and wearing a leather vest covered with animal bones. Her jerboa did have smaller ears than Mooka, but was larger in every other respect. Larger, and much more powerful. A long, tufted tail swished to and fro behind it as it glared over at them, nose twitching.
‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this,’ Uki muttered.
‘Me too,’ said Jori. ‘Do you think you could pick up a jerboa and throw it? If you can knock down the entire tribe in one go, we might have a tiny chance of stealing a ride and escaping.’
Uki gaped at her for a moment, and then spotted the wry smile on her face. A joke. But, jokes aside, it really did look as though they weren’t getting out of this one.
‘Uluk Miniki!’ Chief Gromak had been hoisted up on to a chair that sat on the shoulders of four sturdy warriors. ‘We are gathered here to witness a challenge! This brat of the Kalaan Klaa thinks she can outrun Sla-Shan, our champion rider!’
The crowd around them burst out laughing. Lots of plains words that Uki was pretty sure weren’t nice were shouted.
‘So the two will race,’ Gromak continued when the noise had died down. ‘The first to go round the flag and back will win the Challenge.’ He pointed out on to the plain where, a good three hundred metres away, a rabbit was standing holding up a purple flag tied to a spear.
‘Wait, what?’ Kree shouted. ‘Around the flag? Challenge races are always on the straight!’
‘Maybe in your tribe of ferret-licking weasel children,’ said Gromak. ‘Here, on the true plains, we always go around the flag.’
‘But … But …’ Kree tried to protest but suddenly a wall of pointed spears appeared behind her. She obviously wasn’t going to get a choice about how the race was run.
‘That’s it,’ said Jori under her breath. ‘We’re buzzard food.’
Kree looked over at them and grimaced. Even if Mooka was faster than the other jerboa, he would have to get around that flag without falling over. Uki racked his brain trying to think of a way to help, but came up with nothing. All he could do was stand and watch. And pray.
‘Riders!’ Gromak shouted. ‘Are you ready?’
The Miniki champion gave her chief a nod and hunkered in the saddle, every muscle tensed. Kree made a little squeaking noise.
‘Then let the race begin! Ak, Akka, Akku … Go!’
Uki had seen the way Mooka walked before: that loping hop with his back legs, front paws tucked up in front of him. But he had never seen a jerboa run.
As soon as the shout had left Gromak’s lips, the two jerboas were gone. Those long, gangly hind legs were now springs, shooting the animals forwards through the air over and over, so fast it was like they were flying. The tail of the champion’s anima
l whirled and span as it leapt, counterbalancing it, while Mooka’s bare bottom just wiggled.
At first the jerboas were neck and neck, their riders clinging on to their backs for dear life. Then, as they were halfway to the flag, Kree seemed to pull ahead. Mooka’s leaps were just as long as the other jerboa’s, but he made them quicker, giving him an edge. His long ears were swept back against his body with Kree crouching in between, shouting at him to go faster.
‘She’s winning, Jori!’ Uki shouted, grabbing his friend’s arm. ‘She’s winning!’
‘At the moment,’ said Jori. ‘She’s lighter than the other rider. Must be giving her an edge. But it’ll all be lost on the corner.’ Jori looked away from the race for a moment to stare at Uki, her grey eyes cold and hard. ‘Be ready to fight,’ she said. ‘We can’t win but it’ll be better than getting eaten alive by buzzards.’
Uki gulped, turning back to the racers. Kree was a good two lengths ahead now, just coming up to the flag.
‘Don’t fall, Mooka,’ Uki whispered, praying to any god that might hear him. ‘Don’t fall.’ He could see Kree leaning over to shout in Mooka’s ear, probably saying the same thing.
He held his breath.
Closer to the flag now. Closer. Closer.
They reached it, Kree still with a good lead. She flung herself over to the left, leaning hard to help tip Mooka round the corner. The jerboa turned sharply, but with no tail to help him balance, his long legs slipped and shot out to the side.
Time slowed, everything in the world vanished except the little plains rabbit, clinging to the back of her mount. Uki could see her mouth open, shrieking. He could see Mooka’s eyes bulging, his long legs buckling, the ground coming up to meet him …
That’s it, Uki thought, a lump rising in his throat.
They’re falling.
It’s over.
We’ve failed.
CHAPTER TEN
In the Cities
The slow-motion tumble of Kree and Mooka continued, the jerboa’s legs lurching out to the right as his body went the opposite way.
Get your legs back under you, Uki willed, trying to send the thought out across the plain to them. Kick, hop … do something!
Beside him, he felt Jori tense. Her paws flexed against the ropes binding them.
And then …
Clods of earth and grass went flying in the air as Mooka did kick. Somehow, he had managed to catch the ground with the tips of his toes. He kicked again, soaring upwards, wobbling in the air and – for a few seconds – was facing his opponent, directly in her path. Then, with Kree swinging across the saddle to alter his balance, he tipped the other way, scrabbled for a second and was off again, heading back towards the camp, even as the Miniki champion was making her turn around the flag.
There was a roar of frustration from Gromak and his guards but Uki didn’t care. He was jumping up and down, shouting, ‘She did it! She did it!’
He even thought he heard a whoop of joy from Jori, but when he looked round at her, she was standing perfectly still, albeit with a slight smile on her lips.
The race wasn’t quite over yet. Mooka still had to cover the ground back to the camp. The champion was forcing her jerboa to give its all, even whipping the poor thing with a wooden switch. It hopped as fast as it was able, black eyes popping as it strained, but it was no good. Kree and Mooka were too far ahead and there was no catching them.
They crossed the line with Kree warbling a victory shriek. Uki ran up to them and, forgetting Mooka’s teeth for once, threw his arms around the jerboa. Even some of the Miniki were good-natured enough to cheer.
As his shame-faced champion hopped across the line, Gromak climbed down from his chair and came over to them.
‘You have won the challenge,’ he grumbled. ‘You have free passage on Miniki lands. And we will take you to the twin cities. That is a fast jerboa you have there.’
‘Thank you,’ said Kree. ‘And I am sorry for what I said about your daughter. She does not look like a mouse’s armpit. From the right angle.’
‘Hmpf,’ said Gromak, and then smiled. ‘Come, let us have a feast together. It must be nearly lunchtime.’
Uki remembered what Kree had said about the plains rabbits liking to make up. He had a feeling that lunch might turn into dinner, afternoon tea, and then supper and a midnight snack too.
‘That’s very kind of you, Chief Gromak,’ he said. ‘But we really have to get to Nys and Syn. It is very, very urgent.’
Gromak put his paws on his hips for a moment, but then shrugged and nodded. ‘As you wish,’ he said. ‘I will get some riders to take you. But it is a pity. We were going to eat that jerboa who lost to you.’
Uki glanced up at Kree, who reached a shaking paw down to pat Mooka’s neck. Hopefully he would never realise he had been one stumble away from becoming lunch.
*
Gromak gave two riders the task of carrying Uki and Jori behind them on their jerboas. Kree rode on the victorious Mooka. They headed south-east as soon as they could, hoping to make it across the plains by sundown.
The jerboas loped along, not racing, but at a steady pace that ate up the miles. Uki found the motion very strange at first, and he clung tight to the back of the rider in front of him. But he soon got used to the rocking rhythm and didn’t feel the need to hang on for dear life. After an hour or two, he was quite enjoying the ride, watching the rippling grass of the plain slip past, smiling across at Kree as she zigged and zagged Mooka in between the two Miniki riders.
They stopped for lunch and to give the jerboas a meal of seeds. The riders talked to each other in low voices, obviously still not trusting them. Kree managed to keep her mouth closed for once and they were soon off again.
Towards the end of the afternoon, Uki noticed the landscape beginning to change. There was a river to the south and trees grew alongside it. One or two at first, and then clumps and copses, the branches peppered with the bright-green buds of new leaves and the odd patch of blossom.
Then the plain itself began to dip down and finally, on the horizon, a strip of blue sea appeared. The riders kept going until they reached a patch of woodland, then they reined in their jerboas and helped Uki and Jori to the ground.
‘This is the end of Uluk Miniki lands,’ said one, the first proper words that had been spoken to them all day.
‘The chief told us to give you these,’ said the other, holding out three strings of purple beads.
‘Um … thank you,’ said Uki, taking them.
‘They are tribal tokens,’ explained Kree. ‘They will let us pass safely over Miniki territory. Very special, as there are other tribes that will not know about the challenge.’
‘Please pass our thanks to your chief,’ said Jori, bowing to the Minikis. ‘And we thank you also, for helping us on our journey.’
This seemed to please the riders – Jori always knew how to say the right thing at the right time, Uki noticed – and they climbed back on their jerboas and rode off.
‘Well,’ said Kree. ‘Here we are. The cities are just beyond these woods. I told you I’d get you here safely.’
‘Safely? Ha!’ Jori gave a harsh laugh. ‘We were almost killed! If you’d just kept quiet I could have talked us out of there easily!’
‘Yes, but we wouldn’t have had a ride across the plains, would we? We’d still be walking now,’ said Kree, glaring.
‘Oh, so that was all part of your plan, was it? Almost getting eaten alive by buzzards?’
‘Might have been.’ Kree poked out her bottom lip. Uki could see that quite a large argument was brewing, so he decided to try a distraction.
‘Shall we head towards the cities?’ he said. ‘It would be good to find somewhere to stay tonight. And we still have to find the spirit.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Jori with a sigh. ‘Let’s get on. At least we’re here now, I suppose. Uki, do you have any idea where we might start looking?’
Uki shrugged. The little tugging feeling was the
re still, so constant it had become normal. Most of the time he hardly noticed it. He knew they were roughly on the right path, but … perhaps if I try to focus more.
He closed his eyes and reached for the connection. He could feel it pulling at him, away to the south. He could sense the surging anger of Valkus, the need to be fighting, the constant rage. It seemed a little different now, more focused. As if it had found some kind of target to war against.
And there was something else. A trace of the same feeling nearby, off to their right, amongst the woodland. Not as strong as Valkus himself, but definitely there …
‘Aargh!’ Uki fell to the ground clutching at his head. A bolt of pain had shot through him suddenly – blinding, scorching. He pressed his paws to his eyes, but he could still see … except it wasn’t here he was seeing. It was somewhere else, somewhere familiar … Another vision, he realised. I’m seeing through the eyes of that thing on our trail. Every time he tried to connect to Valkus, his mind linked with this other spirit, creature – whatever it was – instead.
‘Where did these crystals come from?’
That voice again, the one from his dream the other morning. The surroundings swam into focus and Uki recognised the smith’s forge back in Nether. Those cloaked rabbits were there, tipping over the benches, tools and bits of metal flying everywhere, and the smith herself was held between two of them, her arms twisted behind her back.
‘A customer …’ she was saying. ‘A customer gave them to me … Please …’
‘Tell me more,’ said the voice. ‘Tell me everything.’
‘I have!’ wailed the smith. ‘There isn’t more to tell! Please … my husband …’
From the corner of his eye, Uki could see the smith’s husband, his body lying on the forge floor. Dead or just hurt, he couldn’t tell.
‘Oh, you will tell,’ said the voice. ‘You will tell Necripha all …’
Uki saw a pair of old, withered paws reach up, remove something from above his eyes. The smith stared, gaping, as some kind of wrapping came away. And then her face became a mask of terror and she screamed …
Uki and the Outcasts Page 11