Furnaces of Forge (The Land's Tale) (28 page)

‘Thank you, Grunge,’ said Achillia. ‘As I explained to Patch and the fool –’

‘Jester. Japes is a jester-like,’ Patch interrupted.

‘Patch and the jester, there are other explanations for what happened to Crimson and Kevin.’

If Achillia intended to repeat those explanations, she wasn’t given the chance. The meeting was interrupted by a loud knocking on the door. Before Achillia could say anything, the door was flung open and a wide-eyed clerk burst in.

‘Wh—’ began Achillia, but the clerk blurted his news.

‘The animals! They’ve returned!’ he announced nervously.

Achillia glowered at the clerk. ‘So?’ she said angrily. ‘You’ve interrupted an important meeting to tell me that people have their pets back? Get out!’

‘B-b-but, Achillia, you don’t understand,’ stammered the clerk. ‘It’s not just the pets. It’s all of them. They’re at the factories. And I don’t think they’re very happy.’

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Crimson, Touch and Cres had made their plans. While Touch went to get his bicycle, Cres took Crimson to the furnace room.

When Crimson stepped inside she felt the blue fire burning within its metal prison. It took all her willpower to ignore the fire’s call and concentrate on the work to be done.

She heard Cres gasp. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked the young apprentice.

Cres was looking at the furnace in horror. ‘The furnace!’ she cried. ‘It’s melting!’ Her eyes were wide with panic. ‘We checked it this morning and it wasn’t like this! You can almost see through it!’

‘We don’t have much time,’ Crimson said. ‘From what Quick said, the animals will be here soon. We have to be ready before they arrive – and before the blue fire burns through that furnace.’

They set to work making the strange box they hoped would help them rid the Land of the blue fire. Crimson was cutting a piece of metal pipe when Cres cocked her head.

‘Listen!’ said Cres. ‘What’s all that noise up there?’

Through the concrete roof and the soil that covered it, they could hear dull, heavy thuds, and a steady rumbling.

‘I think the animals are here,’ said Crimson.

Cres looked nervously at the door. ‘Do you want me to have a look?’

‘Better not,’ Crimson replied. ‘We don’t want anyone to see you and try to stop us.’

‘OK,’ said Cres, ‘but it sounds like we’ve got the whole of Forge on top of us.’

Chapter 14

A Gathering

B
y the bells!’ said Patch. ‘That’s the pelican what tried to eat my hat.’

The envoys of Muddlemarsh and Beadledom had accom-panied Achillia, Beatrice and Leonardo to the outskirts of Forge. They were standing on the grassy mound that roofed Forge’s huge furnace, its circular brick chimney issuing a light, steady stream of blue smoke. Behind them and to their left were the factories of Forge, each glowing blue, even in the daylight. The Salvation River rushed past to their right; a hundred paces ahead of them, covering every centimetre of an open field, the animals of Myrmidia were gathering.

Grunge looked out over the crowd of Myrmidots assembled on the land in front of him. On hearing the news of the animals’ return they came from the factories, shops and houses to see for themselves. Their number grew by the minute until they formed a wide semicircle, stretching from the open land to the river.

Rumours blazed through the town. Some claimed the animals were running amok through Myrmidia and that Forge was in danger; others professed to know for sure that the animals would slowly drift back to the forests, farms and homes. And still others whispered that they had reliable information that the animals had returned because they’d been forced to leave Muddlemarsh by the Muddles. The Muddles, they said, had power over animals and had used that power to send the animals against Myrmidia.

There was a nervous air about the crowd. Most Myrmidots talked quietly, wondering what the animals would do next. Some called to their pets they spotted among the animals milling on the field. Some cast dark looks at the Muddles and muttered under their breath.

So far, the animals had ignored the people of Myrmidia. They were strangely silent, except when someone approached them. Then they set up a raucous cry of protest until that person retreated back to the crowd.

‘The clerk was right,’ said Grunge. ‘They don’t look happy.’

‘What are they waiting for?’ asked Reach.

‘I think they’re waiting for stragglers,’ Brian said. ‘See, there’s a family of pigs just joining. Look how they make room for them.’

A young Myrmidot, no more than eight or nine, ran from the crowd towards the animals.

‘Puff!’ she cried. ‘Here, Puff!’

A small fluffy dog in the mass of animals turned to look at the young girl. It took a step towards her, and then stopped. Then it scooted round and disappeared into the thick of the pack.

Tears ran down the child’s face. ‘Puff!’ she called. ‘Come here, Puff!’

Beatrice heard the little girl’s cry. She walked to the child and took her hand. ‘Come on, Bess. Puff’s not ready to come home just yet. But she will, when she wants to.’

‘She’ll get hurt!’ cried Bess. ‘She’s only little!’ The girl looked at Beatrice, anguish in her face. ‘Doesn’t she like me any more?’

Beatrice walked her back towards the crowd. As they passed the delegation on the mound, Bess looked and saw the Muddles.

‘Please,’ Bess said to them, ‘tell Puff to come home. Tell her she can come home now. Please.’

Reach went to the child and knelt next to her.

‘We can’t. I’m sorry, but Puff doesn’t understand us. And we don’t understand Puff.’

‘You can too!’ shouted Bess. ‘You just don’t want to! Everyone says you can talk to animals! My friend says you’re the ones that told them to run away in the first place!’

Bess pulled her hand from Beatrice’s and ran crying into the crowd. Shocked at the child’s anger and her accusation, Reach didn’t know what to do. She stared after Bess, unable to speak.

‘I’m sorry, Reach,’ whispered Beatrice. ‘She’s only eight.’

‘How could you do that to a child?’ yelled a voice from the crowd.

‘Tell the dog to go home! You should be ashamed of yourselves!’ cried another Myrmidot.

Others joined in, scolding Reach and the other Muddles. They were only a few, but they called loudly and harshly, letting all the other Myrmidots hear.

Reach would have stayed where she was amid the jeers and scorn, but Grunge stepped forward, put his arm round the ballerina’s shoulder and led her back to her friends. Beatrice listened to the townsfolk and wondered whether what had been done could ever be undone.

Reach was close to tears. ‘It’s not our fault, Grunge. Why are they blaming us?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Grunge admitted.

A murmuring rose and swelled among the Myrmidots. ‘They’re moving!’ cried one. A ripple of movement flowed across the horde of beasts on the field. A hawk screeched and soared high above the town, circling the animals as if to spur them on, as they began to march on the factories of Forge.

The Myrmidots took fright before the advancing herd. Most of them retreated towards the factories, leaving Achillia, her companions and the delegation from Muddlemarsh and Beadledom standing alone on the grassy dome.

Not all were cowed by the animals, though. One Myrmidot broke from the ranks of the retreating crowd. She ran past the group on the mound and directly towards the approaching herd. Without a trace of fear, she grabbed the hem of her apron and flapped it at the animals.

‘Shoo!’ she cried. ‘Go on, now! Shoo! Go away!’

A neighbour tried to pull her back, but she was having none of that. She continued to flap her apron and yell at the animals. Then another Myrmidot joined her, waving a stick and shouting. Yet another joined them, and another, and another, until a score of Myrmidots stood directly in the path of the animals, brandishing aprons, hats, sticks and brooms. Piper, a young engineer not long out of his apprenticeship, dashed into a factory and returned holding a hammer with a large, heavy head and a long, stout handle. He ran to the front of the mob, raised the hammer over his head and rushed at a lowing cow.

‘No!’ cried Achillia in horror. ‘Stop!’

Piper fixed his eyes on the cow’s head. He swung the hammer back – and suddenly Beatrice was behind him. Effortlessly, she plucked the heavy hammer from his hand. Piper wheeled furiously about to face her.

‘No, Piper, that’s not the way,’ Beatrice said, her beautiful voice as empty of emotion as always. Piper started at her for a moment, then dropped his head and melted back into the crowd.

The animals were almost upon the small group of defiant Myrmidots. The others yelled for them to run, then watched in horror as the animals closed in. To everyone’s amazement, the great herd split and flowed round the Myrmidots, until they were like a little island in the middle of a whirling river of animals.

The animals, fixed in their purpose, marched on. Grunge watched them come straight towards him and his companions. Next to him, Achillia stood stern and rigid, though her forehead was creased by a deep frown; beside her, Beatrice was impassive, and Grunge wondered at her air of indifference. Leonardo fidgeted with the buttons on his tunic and he craned his head as if to see past the crowd and the animals in front of him to the far plain beyond.

The Beadles were staring with wide-eyed astonishment but not one of them took a step back. The Muddle envoys stood firm with the Beadles, though their eyes were filled with sadness and confusion.

The leader of the herd, a stag with antlers that spread almost the width of a Beadle’s outstretched arms, stepped on to the mound and stopped centimetres from Achillia, the herd fanning into an arc behind him. The stag gazed first at the Lord Mayor, and then turned his brown oval eyes to each of the others in turn. Grunge wasn’t in any doubt what he saw in those eyes: the stag wasn’t challenging them; he was pleading.

He tossed his head and stamped the ground. Immediately, a long, mourning wail came from the throat of every animal, and the ground shook as they stamped together.

Everyone on that mound – Beadle, Myrmidot and Muddle – stepped back in the face of the deafening noise and the shockwave that ran through the earth. The mound shook and trembled. The cement and brick below the soil groaned. Brian felt the walls of the underground furnace room creak and shift.

Once more the animals struck the ground.

Brian could hear the walls beneath them grind as brick and mortar began to crumble.

‘This isn’t good,’ he thought. ‘I don’t think falling into a big hole was part of the plan. Things like this never happen in Beadledom.’ At that moment, Brian wished he was sitting in his little office filled with filing cabinets and folders, having lamingtons and coffee – which, by coincidence, was exactly what Bligh was wishing. Except, of course, he wished he was in his own office, not Brian’s, and he much preferred iced buns to lamingtons.

It did credit to both that they did nothing to make their wishes come true. They didn’t go back to town, board the tram and return to the quiet and safety of Beadleburg. Resolute and determined, they faced the noisy, stamping herd, and hoped the builders of Myrmidia’s furnace had taken into account the possibility of thousands of unhappy animals jumping on the roof.

Their thoughts were interrupted by loud cries of anger behind them. Panicked by the noise and the tremors that ran through Forge, Myrmidots had ransacked the factories, and now, armed with crowbars, rakes, shovels and hammers, they prepared to drive the animals back.

Achillia turned to her people. In their faces she saw the same fear and bewilderment that she felt. But Achillia felt something they did not: the certainty that she had made a mistake; and her mistake had brought Forge to this.

‘Stop!’ she shouted.

Her voice was usually guaranteed to make any Myrmidot comply with whatever she demanded, for it took a brave, and perhaps foolish, Myrmidot to defy her wishes. So it said a lot about how frightened the Myrmidots were that not one stopped or even hesitated. They just kept coming. In a few moments they would sweep past Achillia and her companions on the grass mound and attack the animals. Nothing, it seemed, could stop them.

Surprise added to Achillia’s annoyance when two Myrmidots ran between her and the advancing towns folk. One was a short, wiry engineer and the other his small, slender apprentice.

Copper and Dot faced the angry and frightened mob. Like determined ants they came, threatening to march straight over the engineer and his apprentice. Calls came from the townsfolk for Copper and Dot to get out of the way. Other voices urged them to join them. Copper and Dot neither moved nor answered.

At the last moment, only a pace or two from the pair, the crowd stopped.

‘Now look here, Copper, you’d best get out of the way,’ said one Myrmidot at the front. ‘You’ll get hurt standing there.’

‘Shift yerself, Copper,’ cried another. ‘Or at least get Dot outta harm’s way.’

‘Don’t try to stop us. Those animals are getting out of hand. Who knows what harm they’ll do if they run riot through the town?’ said a third.