Snowbone (20 page)

His skin had been oiled; it shone opulently in the torchlight. And because the king was wearing nothing but a crown, a chain and a loincloth, Snowbone could clearly see his body. It was strangely shortened, with very little neck, stubby arms, and his legs …
?
They were squashed under him somehow. Instead of feet, he seemed to have flippers. Snowbone couldn't help thinking he looked like a tree stump. His legs were like roots, anchoring him upright.

Snowbone was captivated. Her eyes wandered over his face, his body, his crown. She wanted to memorize every last detail. And then … she couldn't be sure whether it was just a trick of the torchlight, but the slender golden chain around the king's neck seemed to be shining more brightly than it had been before. Soon it was glowing. Shimmering in the dark with an incredible intensity.

“Manu!” said Blackeye.
“Manu!”

Snowbone turned. Blackeye was goggle-eyed. Breathless with excitement.

“Manu!”
he said again.
“Look at your necklace!”

It was shining as brightly as the king's.

“
here did you get that chain?” said Manu.

Oooof!
No so oner had the words left his lips than he was thumped in the back by one of the shield-bearers.

“Fall to your knees, boy!” roared the shield-bearer. “And do not
dare
speak to the king again!”

“No!” said Manu defiantly. “I will not fall to my knees! I am High Prince Manu of Balaa, firstborn son of Meru, king of Balaa. It is you who should fall to your knees before me.”

The shield-bearer glared at him.

“Do you not understand?” said Manu menacingly. “You will fall to your knees.”

The shield-bearer looked to his comrades for support, but found they had already obeyed. He grunted and, with a scowl, sank to his knees before Manu.

Snowbone's jaw was dangling. Was Manu really a prince? She'd always thought it was just a story, but now …

Manu approached the dais. He bowed elegantly and then sank to one knee—not out of deference, but out of choice. He wanted to meet the eyes of this king. “Where did you get that
chain?” he said again. “Only a high prince of Balaa is entitled to wear one.”

The king smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “In truth, my friend,” he said, “I do not know. Mine is a strange story and not one to be told here. Come! Bring your friends. We shall retire to my private quarters.”

And with that, the king clapped his hands and the shield-bearers bore him away, with Manu and the tiddlins following behind.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” said the king when they reached the royal bedchamber. He indicated a sea of cushions on the carpeted cave floor. “Forgive me if I don't join you.” He settled himself on a low couch.

Snowbone looked around the king's cave. It was elaborately furnished, with tapestries hanging on the walls and torches burning in golden sconces. Attendants were offering drinks in silver goblets. A manservant was dressing the king in a magnificent silk coat. And, judging by Manu, the temperature in here was infinitely more acceptable.

“To begin,” said the king, “my name is Filizar. At least, that is the name the Finoans have given me. They found me on the beach when I was a very young baby. I was in a wooden chest, with no letter of explanation, no belongings—nothing! Just this golden chain round my neck. And I have no idea how it got there. It has no clasp.”

“This is bizarre!” said Snowbone to Filizar. “It almost makes sense. You and Manu could be brothers. Except Manu has only one brother, and he's much younger. He's six. But you look about ten. I don't see where you fit in.”

“I do,” said Manu. He took a deep breath and sighed it
away. “I thought I'd forgotten but it's still there.” He shook his head, as if he couldn't believe what he was remembering.

“One day,” he said, “when I was very young—about three years old—my stepmother told me I was going to have a baby brother or sister to play with. I remember I was very excited. My stepmother was definitely carrying a child. Her belly grew big, though at the time I didn't understand why. And then, one morning, she retired to her room and there were cries. The servants ran backwards and forwards all day, with bowls of water and towels. And then there was a scream and it all went quiet.”

Manu fell silent, gathering his thoughts. “A week or so later, I asked my father when I would be getting the baby brother or sister. He began to cry and said it had gone away.”

“Are you saying that my parents got rid of me?” said Filizar. “My own parents? No! I don't believe it. No one could be so cruel.”

“Your mother could,” said Snowbone. “She did the same to Manu.”

“But why?” said Filizar. “I was their son. A prince! Why would they do that?”

“Because kings walk tall,” said Manu simply. “That's the family motto: ‘Kings walk tall while others crawl.’ On Balaa, we pride ourselves on our physicality. So the king and the royal family must be like gods. They must be perfect. Tall, healthy, physically beautiful. If they're not …” Manu's voice trailed away as he looked at his brother.

“Don't worry,” said Filizar. “I know what you're thinking. But I can assure you, I'm stronger than I look. I'm strong
here
, in my heart, and
here
, in my head. I don't need your pity. And also I have been
very
lucky.”

He paused and looked around to check that the attendants had gone. Then he leaned forward and said quietly, “Why? Because of all the islands I could have drifted to, I was washed up here. When I arrived, the Finoans were without a ruler. But there was an old prophecy that talked of a king coming from the sea. So when the waves threw
me
ashore, they welcomed me like a god!”

He gleefully wiggled his finlike feet. “Just look at me. Flipper Boy! They thought I'd come from the seals. And I have to confess, I've considered it myself in the past. But now I know the truth, I'm not going to tell them. And please, don't you tell them either. Let them think I'm the King from the Sea. I want to stay. I like it here. I live like … well, a king!” And he collapsed into a heap of giggles.

Snowbone smiled. She couldn't help it. Filizar's good humor was infectious.

“Do you know the full prophecy?” asked Blackeye.

Filizar nodded. “It's this:

'When winter waves throw the king from the sea
The queen still dreams of ascendancy
And the king upon the gilded throne
Laments what never shall be known

When the sea turns red and the rivers rise
And the storm bird o'er the summit flies
The King of the Sea shall leave this land
And carry death within his hand.'”

“It's spooky,” said Snowbone.

“It's hokum!” said Filizar. “It makes no sense. But it has served me well. Which reminds me—I haven't eaten today.”
He reached for a small bell and rang it. When an attendant appeared, Filizar ordered food for his guests. Then he leaned back indulgently on the couch and smiled again. “Now,” he said, “let me guess why you're here. In four words: the Tongue of Torbijn.”

The tiddlins exchanged wary glances.

“It's all right,” said Filizar reassuringly. “I'm not going to burn you! The Tongue is sacred to the Finoans, but”—he lowered his voice again—“it means nothing to me.”

“So it's real? It's here?” said Snowbone.

“Oh, yes,” said Filizar. “And you're not the first to come looking for it. I daresay you won't be the last! It's in another cave, on the far side of the Core. You can see it after we've eaten. But now, Manu, my half-brother! Tell me about our homeland.”

And so Manu began to talk, but Snowbone didn't listen. All she could think about was the Tongue of Torbijn, lying no more than a wish away.

n hour passed. Manu talked. Filizar listened. Snowbone and Blackeye ate everything that was placed before them. Then Filizar summoned a guide and the friends headed for the Crusty Cave.

“Is it always this hot?” Manu asked the guide as they reached the Core.

“No, it's usually quite cool,” said the guide. “This heat has been building for a week now.”

Manu wiped the sweat from his forehead and trudged on.

“Manu,” said Snowbone, “I've been thinking. Balaa must be close. A baby couldn't survive in a chest for more than a day or two.”

“You're right,” said Manu. “My knowledge of geography is patchy, I must confess. As a prince, I was taught diplomacy and dancing and very little else! But I seem to recall a map and, yes, Balaa is fairly close.”

“Why don't you go back?” said Snowbone. “Tell your father what happened?”

“I think my father will be dead,” said Manu. “He was an old man. My disappearance will have hit him hard.”

“Then you should be king!” cried Snowbone. “You should get rid of the queen and her son.”

“One day perhaps,” said Manu. “But not yet. I'm still young. I want to see something of the world. I don't want to sit on a throne all day, sorting out petty squabbles and marrying a princess I barely know. I want adventure! I want to go with you to Farrago.”

“But if you were king, you could raise an army,” said Snow-bone. “We could sail to the Nova Land and
really
fight slavery. We could change the world.”

“No,” said Manu. “I will happily risk my neck, but a king is responsible for the safety of his people. I wouldn't lead them into a war that had nothing to do with them.”

“It has everything to do with them!” cried Snowbone. “It's their world too.”

“They wouldn't see it like that,” said Manu. “I will go with you, Snowbone, but as a friend, not a king.”

“We're here!” whispered Blackeye.

They were in a small cave, dimly lit with candles, and it was indeed crusty. All the tunnels and caves inside the volcano were rough, but here the walls seemed coated in an extra layer of dust, like powder on the face of an old, old woman. Two guards were standing by the far wall. In the wall was a niche. In the niche was a shelf. And on the shelf was the Tongue of Torbijn.

The tiddlins crept forward. They didn't know why they were creeping. There was just something about the place that made them do it: a magical, holy aura that pervaded the room,
hanging in the air like breath in winter. The silence … the flickering candles … the heady scent of incense … the stillness of the guards … It was truly awesome.

The Tongue was set into a silver holder. It was dry and brown and looked just like the tongue of a small leather boot.

Snowbone reached out to touch it. Instantly, the guard caught her arm.

“No,” he said, glaring at her. “It is forbidden.”

Snowbone backed off. It seemed wrong to argue in a place like this. She would be content to look from a distance. But all the time her mind was racing, trying to think of a way to steal the Tongue. Now she'd seen it, she wanted it. She had to hold it in her hands. She didn't know why. But she did know it had nothing to do with Skua.

How could it be done? Presumably there were guards on duty day and night. They would need to be distracted. But even if she managed to take the Tongue, how could she escape with hundreds of outraged Finoans chasing her?

Snowbone glanced at Blackeye. He was obviously thinking the same thing. His eyes were narrow with concentration.

But Manu was too distressed by the heat to care about the Tongue. He was bent double, with his hands on his knees. “I can hardly breathe,” he gasped.

And when Snowbone looked at the guards, she saw that they too were wet with sweat, and although they appeared calm, they were taking in huge lungfuls of air.

Then there came an almighty rumble from the belly of the earth and suddenly the ground was rocking beneath her feet. The guards were staggering to stay upright. Manu fell to the floor.

“What is it?” cried Blackeye.

“The volcano!” shouted one of the guards. “She's waking up!”

And now there came a roar, and the whole place was shaking. Screams echoed down the tunnel. Cries. Moans. Rain. Torrential rain. Only it wasn't rain. It was feet. Thousands of running feet, pattering through the tunnels.

“Run!” cried Snowbone to the guards. “Run for your lives!”