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

places above the entrance where rain could run down through the moss, so there was no need to fetch fresh water. In the meantime, in case it didn’t rain, she’d brought spring water. She’d thought of everything.
    She couldn’t remember clearly what had happened at the tower. She had been looking after this baby. Catkin. That was the baby’s name. She had been rocking the baby in her lap, yes, she could remember that. The warm, bath-smelling baby had cuddled against her and sucked a corner of a blanket—and unspeakable terror had struck hard into Linty’s heart, shaking her from her ear tips to her claws. That wave of horror had left her so sick and shaking with fear that she had thought she would pass out.
    Tower! Quick, get her out!
    She would keep this baby safe. No animal on Mistmantle would outwit her.
    Wide-awake and bright-eyed, Catkin was sitting up and looking at her.
    “You’ll be safe with me,” Linty said, and smiled with love as Catkin stretched out both front paws to her. She picked her up, cradling the soft baby fur against her cheek. “You’ll be safe with Linty, little…” what was the baby’s name? Daisy? No, this one was Catkin.
    “You’ll be safe with me, little Catkin,” she said. “They can search all autumn and winter. They won’t find you.”

    In the Throne Room, the windows had been thrown open because of the unseasonable heat. Many of the Circle were out searching for Catkin, harvesting, or caring for the sick, but as many as possible had been summoned, including Arran. Urchin, Needle, and Juniper were there, to hear what Brother Fir had to say. There was no brightness in his eyes today.
    “I should have remembered,” said Fir sadly, “but so many babies were killed when Captain Husk was in power. Linty had a daughter, born small and before her time. She might have lived. But Captain Husk swooped, had the baby brought to the tower, and killed her himself. Nothing could be done to save her. Later, when Linty’s little boy was also born early and very small, we tried to save him.”
    “There were so many,” said Arran, frowning as she tried to remember. “But I remember dashing to collect a baby and take it to the secret nursery and finding I was too late. I couldn’t forgive myself for not getting there in time.”
    “Think of all the babies you did save, Arran,” said Fir. “Linty has never been the same since—of course she isn’t, how could she be? But none of us had realized how badly damaged she was. I fear her mind must have been breaking. The night of the Naming Ceremony she found herself in the tower with a baby squirrel.”
    “But her babies were taken to the tower to be…” cried Cedar.
    “Exactly,” said Fir. “All Linty could think of was that she had to rescue the baby from the tower.”
    Cedar covered her face with her paws.
    “I must speak the truth to you, Your Majesty,” said Fir. “Catkin is in the care of a squirrel who wants to guard and protect her, but whose mind is fragile.”
    Crispin’s voice suddenly sounded much older than it ever had before.
    “What do we do?” he asked.
    “We carry on,” said Fir firmly. “We search. We encourage the young to help with the search, because Linty will not be afraid of the young. She will be very afraid of captains. We pray, we search, we keep vigilant, we go on.”

    All the next day, and the next, the search went on, up hills, in caves, through woods. The queen’s eyes grew red with sleeplessness. She hardly ate, and her face became gaunt. When she did sleep she would cry out and wake suddenly, convinced that she had heard Catkin crying.
    Apart from a few brief showers, the hot weather continued, a heavy heat as if all the air had been sucked out of it. Every hollow tree was hunted through. Waterways were watched. On Queen Cedar’s orders, female animals were sent, two or three times each day and night, to stand in tunnels and caves, in woods and beside streams, to talk to Linty in case she