The Heir of Mistmantle by M. I. McAllister Read Free Book Online Page A

voice to Docken. “Why shouldn’t we stand under the queen’s window? Got as much right as anyone.”
    “We were on this island long before she was,” said Yarrow, and wriggled indignantly. “Who does she think she is? Aren’t we good enough to stand under her window?”
    “My dad says…” began Quill, but they never found out what his dad said because at that moment the window opened and Moth and the maids tipped out the queen’s bathwater. Spluttering and cursing they glared up at the window, just in time for the next soaking.
    “Tried to warn you,” said Docken. “Lavender. You’ll smell beautiful.”
    “Bathwater!” growled Yarrow, rubbing his wet fur with his even wetter cloak and making it worse. “What’s she want baths for? Can’t she wash her face in a stream like anyone else?” And they hurried crossly home, though Quill did take the long way around to roll in a weedy rock pool. He couldn’t go around smelling of lavender.
    It seemed longer than a single night before a pale gold dawn spread across the sky. Catkin was still missing. Search parties went on hunting as the sun rose higher. The brief rain had soon stopped, and animals talked about whether they had ever had such a hot autumn as they worked on in the sun, gathering rushes, cones, nuts, and berries, sweating into their fur and gulping down water. The animals searching for Catkin labored and struggled under the hot sun. The land grew dry. Streams ran slowly.
    The harvesting was harder, too, because there were fewer animals to do it. More and more were becoming too ill to leave their burrows. Healers were sent for. Urchin, hunting in hollow trees for Catkin and Linty, remembered the riding stars and did not like to wonder too much about what they meant this time.
    Juniper opened his eyes with words of prophecy clear and true in his mind. When he thought of what they might mean, he covered his face with his paws in fear.

    Brother Fir met with squirrels and hedgehogs who were keen to discuss the past, and others who would much rather not. Many were more concerned about their neighbors falling ill—and please, Brother Fir, can we collect some feverfew from the tower? But as Fir patiently listened and talked and listened again, they began to talk of the terrible time when Lord Husk controlled the island, and any animals born weak or even a little deformed had been put to death. Some could hardly bear to talk about it, and some, when they had started, could not stop talking.
    Old friends of Linty told how she had kept to herself for years. She never talked about the past. Poor Linty, she could hardly bring herself to speak of what happened to her.

 

    CHAPTER FIVE
    OVER THE DOOR, COVER THE DOOR. Linty gritted her teeth with effort as she heaved an old tree root back into place to hide the entrance over her head. Using the blanket as a sling, she had wound the baby to her, keeping her safe from the thorns as she wove her way through the Tangletwigs. She had run through deep streams, lifting the baby high out of the water, and rolled them both in white wild garlic to lose their scent. More ramsons grew around this tree. Nobody would scent them down. No busybody digging mole would find them.
    The tower was no place for a baby. Long ago, with hard work and ingenuity, she had made this hiding place, and another, nearer to the shore, furnished with all she would need to keep a baby hidden. They were so cleverly concealed underground, with deeply hidden overgrown entrances and confused scent trails, that they were impossible to find. She would have lost track of them herself if she hadn’t returned every spring and autumn to clean them and bring in fresh food and bedding. She never knew when she might need them.
    There were two ways out of this deep refuge. One led into undergrowth and the other to a cave near the shore, both through concealed tunnels. She could slip out to fetch provisions if she had to, though it would be risky. She had left