Urchin and the Raven War (29 page)

Todd stamped off in a different direction. “More nets!” he shouted. “Stand by for more blooming big spuggies!” Plodding back again, he too bowed to the queen. “Sorted, Your Majesty.”

A ragged chorus of screeching sounded above them.

“They’re at it again, ma’am,” said Todd.

“They’re going for the Tangletwigs,” said Cedar.

“I can feel it in the air,” said Juniper. “The next attack is coming.”

“Glad to hear it,” said Padra.

“Yes,” said Crispin. “Let’s get it over with.”

Docken, Russet, and Heath had been sent for. Needle, without speaking a word, had made it quite clear that she was staying. The small chamber was filled with sheaves of arrows, bows leaning against walls, swords propped up against the door. Nobody liked to see Fir’s peaceful turret used like this.
But it’s not as if we have a choice,
Crispin had said.

From the turret windows they watched the birds gather. It was as if a band were around the island, growing tighter. Ravens after ravens after ravens thronged to the island.

“They’re organized,” muttered Padra. “They’re flying in ranks.”

“Hold back from the arrows for now,” ordered Crispin. “Let the nets do the work for us first. When the nets are too full to trap any more, or if any of the vermin manage to get out of them, we shoot. If they keep coming and we run out of arrows, we fight with our swords, and keep on fighting.” I’d rather set fire to the tower myself, he thought, than let these vermin have it.

The ravens came on, so thick and heavy that Needle, who had never handled a bow in her life, picked one up and strung it as she had seen the archers do. If she watched how the other defenders did it, she could at least get the arrow to fly from the bow, and it was bound to hit something.

The great black wings were nearer. Needle heard the screeching as ravens flew into the netted windows on the floor below, and the caws of indignation as they became trapped. Screeches of rage echoed from all around the island, tearing into the ears of the islanders, but still, the ravens came on.

“There has to be a limit to them!” shouted Crispin. “They have to stop, sooner or later!”

“The nets are filling up!” yelled Padra.

“Let me see what’s happening in the tower,” said Juniper.

“Needle,” called Crispin, “go with him!”

Needle snatched up a bow and a quiver of arrows and ran down the stairs. Each window was darkened by nets of screaming ravens, dead ravens, flapping ravens, ravens turning beaks and talons on each other. Outside the shattered windows of the Gathering Chamber, the whole net writhed like a screeching black beast with the weight of the birds. But from the very top of the window, a ray of light fell onto the floor.

Needle shrieked, seized Juniper’s paw, and pointed. Weighed down with ravens, the net was pulling away from the top of the broken window. Soon there would be a gap big enough for the next wave of birds to fly through. They dashed back, banging the doors shut.

“Tell the king!” she said. “I have to find Crackle!”

Juniper hurried limping for the stairs, banging doors shut after him. Powered with anger, Needle ran for the kitchens, flinging her bow and arrows into a corner.

“Crackle!” she yelled.

Crackle appeared, her eyes bright. She began to say something about Brother Fir, but Needle wasn’t listening.

“We need oil!” she shouted. “Cooking oil—butter—soapy water might do—anything slippery!”

Juniper stumbled into the turret, barring the door behind him. Crispin leaned from the tower and swept his sword through the neck of a raven as it swooped down on him.

“The nets are tearing!” cried Juniper.

“Ready to fire!” called the king.

The defenders stood ready at the windows. Fire, and fire, and fire. Arrows flew, sang, and hit. Ravens thudded to the ground.

“There are fewer of them!” shouted Docken. “Every one’s a hit, Your Majesty!”

There were fewer arrows, too. Soon, hardly any were left rattling in the quivers. The ravens came on. Crispin fired again into the raven clouds.

“What in the island is that!” shouted Docken, squinting up at the sky.

“Oh, it’s just him,” said Padra.

Cloaked and masked, the Silver Prince wheeled above the island, his escorts surrounding him, keeping him out of range of the arrows. He flew slowly, as if he had all the leisure in the world. He was flying as if he had won, making a lap of honor around Mistmantle.

Below them, ravens poured into the Gathering Chamber.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

N THE UNDERGROWTH
of the Tangletwigs, Urchin lay flat under a sprawling hawthorn and passed arrows to Cedar. He had tried to fire a bow, fighting the pain in his injured wrist, but there wasn’t the strength in that arm now. All he could do was be ready with the arrows, and there weren’t many left. From their hiding place near a tunnel entrance he could see the cairn over Lady Aspen’s grave. He could see Gleaner huddled in the brambles at the edge of the clearing.

On the other side of the clearing, covered with leaves and keeping very still, lay Grith. He had done his part. He had given Catkin and Urchin to the ravens. He had no idea what had happened to Catkin—he hoped she was dead, but there were rumors that she had been rescued by interfering otters, and, to his great disappointment, Urchin had escaped. That was the ravens’ fault, not his. Grith snarled softly in his throat when he thought of Urchin. To have the favor of the Silver Prince, he must deliver Urchin to him. This time the Silver Prince would personally devour Urchin, preferably where the king could see it.

He had come here to the Tangletwigs to ask for Gleaner’s help. Gleaner hated Crispin and everyone who had ever helped him. But she had growled, snarled, ordered Grith out of the Tangletwigs, and even brandished her kitchen knife at him. To spite her, he had snatched away that rag she used to cover the burial mound. Now, under the cover of the Tangletwigs, he searched for a tunnel way to the tower. That’s where Urchin would be.

Another raven fell spinning from the sky to the thornbushes. The queen was already fitting the next arrow.

“Gleaner should be farther in!” yelled Urchin. “She’s hardly under cover!”

Cedar fired again. Another raven fell. “We can’t do anything about it!” she yelled.

Grith raised his head. Urchin was here! Some dark power must be at work for Urchin to be delivered to him so easily! The Silver Prince, circling the island, would come this way soon. If Grith could have Urchin waiting for him …

But Urchin was at a distance, under cover, too far to reach in the thorns of the Tangletwigs. The queen was with him, and armed. Grith probably couldn’t get the better of Urchin in a fight, and certainly couldn’t take on both of them, but he could show the Silver Prince where they were. The bodyguard would wrench away the thorns for him.

If he begged, the Silver Prince might let him kill the queen. Ravens liked carrion. He would be happy to execute Queen Cedar for the Silver Prince to eat. His brother Gloss had murdered Crispin’s first wife, and he would be proud to kill the second.
Patience, patience.
He had Urchin and the Silver Prince so close. He only had to bring them together and watch the prince do his worst.

The Silver Prince was spiraling, the circles smaller and smaller, his escorts following. Cedar stopped firing and shaded her eyes at the sky.

“He’s closing in on the Tangletwigs,” she said. “If he gets near enough, I might get a shot at him.”

The Silver Prince squinted through the eyeholes of his mask. The island was his. Must be. The sky was still full of his ravens. Awed and admiring, his troops watched him. He had brought down the Taloness, and now he would have the tree-rats at his mercy in spite of their pathetic fishing nets. He would take appalling revenges on them for those nets.

It was a hot day for flying, and the cloak grew heavy. The mask restricted his vision. Let his troops and his victims see his glorious silver plumage! He clawed the cloak from his neck, threw off the mask, and, as they fell to earth, he soared.

Grith saw the cloak and the mask fall to the ground as the Silver Prince rose. Eager and triumphant, he rushed forward.

“Great Silver Prince!” he cried.

“Who’s that mole?” whispered Cedar. “What does he think he’s doing?”

Urchin twisted to look through the undergrowth. Rage stabbed through him.

“It’s Grith!” he said. “Grith, who betrayed us!”

“Keep still!” ordered the queen, and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’ve only two arrows left, we can’t take risks. What’s he up to?”

On the open ground of the clearing, Grith fell to his knees on the discarded cloak. He stretched out his arms.

“I have delivered them to your talons, Great Silver Prince!” he called. “Urchin the tree-rat and the tree-rat queen! They are here! They are yours!” But the Silver Prince rose higher and could not hear him.

“It is shouting defiance at me!” said the Silver Prince.

“I think it is surrendering to you,” said one of his escorts, and the prince laughed.

“So it should,” he said. “Kill it!”

Three of them fell upon Grith. Urchin closed his eyes against the sight of the sharp talons attacking Grith. There was still blood on the ravens’ beaks as they rose again.

The Silver Prince circled in triumph again, but as he did, his eyes were caught by a gleam of silver. Something flashed in the sunlight. He wheeled a little lower, his eyes on the silver. It was some piece of jewelry lying on a pile of stones. What were those stones, a throne? Or maybe a holy place! He would destroy their sanctuary, and that silver thing would become his trophy! With a cry of “Kill and devour,” strident enough to make sure his troops would be watching, he soared, wheeled once more, and struck.

The rush of wings made Gleaner shudder and jump. The gleaming black beak, fierce and open, snatched up Lady Aspen’s bracelet and raised it high. The Silver Prince was throwing up his head in triumph and spreading his wings even at the moment when Gleaner plunged the knife into his throat.

His beak fell open. The twisted silver bracelet tumbled down and Gleaner caught it, hugging it as the Silver Prince fell, pressing it to her fur like a crying baby, shielding it from the blood spurting from the Silver Prince’s neck. Ravens hurtled down on her.