The Urchin of the Riding Stars (2 page)

“You told her he was washed up by the sea,” he said.

“Hm. I certainly did,” said Fir. “He must be an orphan, and not from here. We’ve never had a squirrel that color before. That makes him different enough from the other squirrels, without them thinking he came tumbling down out of the sky on a night of riding stars. And if I know Apple, she’ll soon forget that we had anything to do with him. Let her think she found him herself. We’ll tell him all he needs to know when the time is right.”

They stopped by a window so that Fir could ease his lame leg and get his breath back, and Crispin looked down at the tideline. It was scattered with all sizes of shells, colored pebbles, driftwood, shining clusters of seaweed, tattered feathers, and the spiny shells of sea urchins.

“Urchin,” he said. “Can we call him Urchin? He was found on the shore.”

Fir raised a paw. “May the Heart bless you and keep you, Urchin of Mistmantle,” he said.

And far away on the other side of the island, a wave of the sea lifted Urchin’s mother, cradled her, and carried her gently away.

CHAPTER ONE

ROM THE HIGHEST POINT OF
W
ATCHTOP
H
ILL
, Urchin could see the whole island.

For days, squirrels and hedgehogs had dragged rough branches up this hill. The wood for their bonfire was ready to light now, stacked up so high that Urchin knew he had to climb it. He was old enough to manage it, and young enough to want to. Springing swiftly from one branch to the next, twirling his tail to balance himself, he reached the very top, gripped with his hind claws, and dusted moss from his fur. He was still as pale as honey, with the red squirrel color only at the tips of his ears and tail. When he straightened up, shook his ears, and looked out over Mistmantle, he felt he was lord of the island.

Tonight would be a night of riding stars. The animals would gather here as the air turned cool, light the bonfire, watch the stars swirl and dance through the darkening sky, and guess at what great things would happen next.

Anemone Wood spread out below him to the south, with a first touch of autumn turning the leaves to crisp gold. Farther away, on the shore, otters chased each other in play. A line of small rowboats bobbed on the water. Urchin could never understand why otters were so fond of boats, when they all swam so powerfully. Maybe they just liked anything to do with water.

A tall ship was moored by the jetty, with its sails furled and its painted figurehead gleaming with color in the sunshine. A work party of squirrels and otters had been lined up to unload it, passing crate after crate along the line. Urchin guessed at what might be in those crates. Wool for cloaks, maybe; paint for the workshops—or rare wine for King Brushen’s cellars? Tomorrow he would be down there, doing real, grown-up work, helping to load the ship with timber.

He didn’t really want to think about tomorrow. Balancing and curling his hind claws, he turned a little farther to gaze far over the treetops to Mistmantle Tower, and his heart stretched out to it.

The tower was the place he longed for. On a high outcrop of rock, gleaming in shell pink, white, and pale, sandstone yellow that was almost gold, Mistmantle Tower rose like a statue to the sky. From a turret, a pennant fluttered in the breeze. A young female squirrel was hopping up the steps carrying something in a basket, and the moles on guard stood back to let her in. She might be one of the queen’s attendants. Urchin envied her. He even envied the kitchen mole who appeared at a low window and threw dirty water into a drain. From the king in the Throne Room to the kitchen mole in the scullery, life in the tower must be wonderful.

He had been there, of course. All the Mistmantle creatures were invited to the tower for great occasions, like the Spring Festival. Apple said that when she was little, there had been all sorts of wonderful feasts and festivals with banquets, music, and garlands. There wasn’t so much of that now, but at least Urchin knew what it was like to stand in the vast Gathering Chamber of the tower.

He had been there for the naming ceremony of Prince Tumble, the only child of King Brushen and Queen Spindle. It seemed that all the island’s creatures had crammed into the tower that day. Wonderful Threadings hung from the walls, stitched and woven pictures showing stories of the island; but there was neither room nor time to take a good look at them. Even following the crowd up the stairs had been confusing. Urchin had wondered how anyone ever found their way out.

The procession had been magnificent. The animals of the Circle had entered first; then there had been a gasp of admiration as the three Captains of Mistmantle stepped proudly down the hall with gold and silver glittering on their robes and circlets of gold on their heads. First Husk the squirrel, then Crispin the squirrel and Padra the otter. Brother Fir had followed them, limping, in his plain white tunic. Then, at last, tall, strong, and splendid, came King Brushen, with Queen Spindle at his side and all the colors of a jewel house gleaming from their mantles, and the queen’s friend, Lady Aspen the squirrel, with the bright-eyed, wriggling baby hedgehog Prince Tumble in her arms. Finally, with every animal stretching up on its clawtips, Brother Fir had lifted up Prince Tumble and blessed him.

Urchin had not been back to the tower since. He looked past it, into the enchanted mists that surrounded and protected the island so well that few ships ever reached it. Islanders who belonged here, if they left by water, could never return by water. The mists would prevent it. The otters took care never to row their boats beyond the mists.

He was trying to work out how long it would be until nightfall when a fir cone hit him on the shoulder.

“He’s showing off,” said a squirrel voice.

“Ignore him,” said another.

Two other squirrels had reached the hilltop, Gleaner and Crackle. They were never apart, and always looked at Urchin as if they’d just been planning something very nasty for him. Crackle seemed to go out of her way to make trouble, but Gleaner did it without even trying.

Urchin looked past them and saw other animals working their way up the hill, the squirrels taking shortcuts as they leaped from one tree to the next. Gleaner and Crackle were followed by Urchin’s great friend, Needle, a hedgehog with unusually sharp prickles, and around her—not too close—was a scampering, clambering bunch of very young squirrels, barely old enough to get up to Watchtop at all without being carried. Beyond them Urchin’s foster mother, Apple, lumbered up the hill, keeping mostly to the path. When she did jump on a branch, it bent alarmingly.

“Urchin!” squeaked a small squirrel in excitement.

“It’s Urchin!” cried another, bounding forward.

“Wait there!” called Urchin. If they climbed up to meet him, they’d probably bring the whole heap down on themselves, so he sprang down to them. He was popular with the young squirrels, and in no time they were swarming over him, wanting rides on his back and holding out their paws to be swung around. Needle came and stood beside him.

“There’s Captain Crispin on the beach,” she said. “And Captain Padra.”

Urchin looked down to the shore and saw Padra the Otter lolloping from the water and rolling in the sand to dry his wet fur. Captain Crispin stood by, holding his cloak.

All three captains had been friends since they were small. In time they had been chosen to be pages at the tower, then promoted to the Circle, and now they were captains, the highest rank on the island. Captain Husk was the king’s most trusted friend and adviser, and mostly stayed in the tower. Captain Padra had always taken special care of the shores and the creatures who lived by water. But Crispin took a particular care for the woodlands and the Anemone Wood creatures—he even appeared to take an interest in Urchin.

He was Urchin’s hero. If anyone had asked Urchin what he’d like to be, he could have truthfully said, “I want to be like Captain Crispin.” But he wouldn’t have told anyone that. It was a treasured dream, not to be spoken. And they’d only laugh.

Besides, nobody
had
asked him. He’d be loading timber onto ships for the rest of his life.

The youngest of the little squirrels had fallen over and was whimpering. Urchin picked her up and sat on a log with the squirrel on his lap and Needle beside him.

“Isn’t it wonderful up here?” Needle said. “Look at that ship!” Then she looked down at her paws. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” said Urchin. “I don’t mind.” He knew she hadn’t meant to remind him of his future loading and unloading ships.

Crackle popped up behind them.

“Oh, so Needle’s still speaking to us,” she said. “You don’t want to talk to him, Needle, he’s just joining a common work party, and you’re a tower hedgehog. You’ll be off to the workrooms tomorrow, won’t you? Painting, weaving, sewing, making the Threadings, goodness knows what else. Very talented, aren’t we? Very privileged. Much too good to speak to the rest of us.”

Needle turned quickly.

“Ouch!” said Crackle.

“Oh, did you get caught in my spines?” asked Needle politely. “You shouldn’t get so close to me. Ignore her, Urchin.”

“You must be looking forward to tomorrow,” said Urchin.

“I haven’t liked to talk about it,” Needle said awkwardly.

“What, because you’ve been chosen for training at the tower and I haven’t?” said Urchin. “Talk all you like. I’m very glad for you. It’s just that…”

He looked at the shore again. Captain Crispin was no longer there. A few squirrels and otters sat on the jetty, dabbling their paws in the water.

“I had dreams,” he said quietly. “Sometimes I think I’m meant to do something special.” He wriggled his paws. “Maybe it’s because of not knowing who I am. I don’t even know how I got here, or where from. I don’t know who my parents are—or were—and I don’t even look like the rest of you. Apple always told me I was special. I used to think, perhaps, I’d been chosen for something. I…you won’t laugh, will you?”

“Of course not!” said Needle.

He wouldn’t have said this to anyone but Needle. Even with her, it wasn’t easy.

“I was born on a night of riding stars,” he said. “Wonderful things are supposed to happen after those nights, but I don’t think anything very exciting followed that one. It was as if…well, as if
I
was what happened. As if I was sent here that night, and I have something vital to do. And I’ve tried really hard at everything I’ve ever done. I knew I wasn’t really a Mistmantle squirrel and I’d have to make an effort to become one. And I
have
made the effort, but I’ve got nothing to show for it. Nothing except loading ships for the rest of my life.”

“What makes you think it’s for the rest of your life?” asked Needle. “You might go on to…”

She stopped, as Apple had finally appeared at the top of the hill. She was looking down at the moored ship while she got her breath back.

“Unloading boats!” she grumbled, and flopped down heavily beside Needle and Urchin. The log rocked, and the little squirrel squeaked. “It’s all wrong, this. They never used to do it this way. They never had no work parties, and that and all the work that needed doing got done, all the same, and we had a lot more fun in them days.”

Urchin and Needle grinned swiftly at each other. There was no point in arguing, or in speaking at all, once Apple had something to say.

“The boats all got unloaded and loaded up, too, and all the nuts and berries and that all got gathered up and stored, and all the making of cloaks and cordials and the fishing and the work on the boats, and looking after the tower and making medicines, and keeping our nests nice, all that, it all got done. And these days it’s all work parties, isn’t it?” She looked around for support. “Isn’t it, though?”

“Yes, Apple,” said Needle.

“It’s work parties all the time now, and before you’re up in the mornings it’s ‘all the West Shore otters report for beachcombing’ and ‘all the Anemone Wood squirrels to report to the cone stores’ and I don’t know what else. Here’s Urchin looking after them little ones—hello, little one—climbing trees, all the things he should be doing at his age and tomorrow he’s got to go and…”