Urchin and the Raven War (36 page)
In the chamber at the Spring Gate, Corr stood straight and tall before Urchin of the Riding Stars. He looked so freshly washed and dried, he reminded Urchin of Sepia’s squirrels. But, more than that, Urchin was reminded of a young squirrel many years ago, knocking timidly on the door of Fir’s turret, about to watch the riding stars with his hero, Captain Crispin.
Corr didn’t know why he’d been summoned there. He only hoped he wasn’t about to be sent home. Needle of the Circle sat at the hearth.
“So, Corr,” said Urchin, “you’re to be a tower squirrel. I don’t suppose you’d consider being my page, would you?”
“Oh!” There was a moment of speechlessness that brought Urchin’s past vividly back to him.
“I hope you’ll say yes,” he said.
“Yes, sir!” cried Corr. “Thank you—thank you, sir!”
“Fine,” said Urchin. “We’ll get a chamber sorted out for you and move you in. Run up to the storeroom by the laundry and ask for some bedding.”
“Very impressive,” said Needle, when Corr had gone. “And while you’re giving orders, I’ve had one from the king. I have to teach you the Threadings Code.”
“The Threadings Code!” cried Urchin. “All of it?”
“I had to learn it all,” said Needle. “I don’t see why you can’t. I’ll cram it into your skull somehow or other.”
“Why?” asked Urchin. Then he thought of a reason why he might have to learn the Threadings Code—but surely it couldn’t be that?
“Oh, come on,” said Needle. “I know you’ve been ill, but make an effort. Who has to know the Threadings Code?”
“Oh!” said Urchin.
“Exactly,” said Needle.
“But,” he said, wondering if he’d really understood her, “I’m too young!”
“What, too young to be a captain?” she said. “You won’t be by the time I’ve got the Threadings Code between your ears.”
Corr flew down the stairs. If his paws hadn’t been full of sheets and blankets, he would have turned somersaults. He had to tell Fingal—But no, I’m a page, I have to report to Urchin. He bowed to an imaginary animal on the stairs.
I’m Corr the …
No, start again, paw on an imaginary sword hilt—
I’m Corr the otter, page to Urchin of the Riding Stars.
He’d go back by way of the shore, just in case Fingal might be there.
On the beach, Myrtle left the picture she had been drawing. Her stomach told her it was lunchtime, so she wandered up the shore, dragging a stick of driftwood behind her to make patterns in the sand. The tide rose. A picture that looked like a boat, except that it was round, would be washed away before anyone could see it. A flower of pink sea thrift floating on the water washed up on the shore and lay there as if it shared a secret with the boat, and was smiling.
Praise for The Mistmantle Chronicles
“McAllister creates a beautiful world where animals are carried away by the gentle waves of the sea and others are born on nights of riding stars. It’s hard not to root for little Urchin and his friends when some very big evil threatens to ruin their beautiful world.” –
The Washington Post
“[Urchin’s…] adventures twist and turn beautifully. McAllister continues to build an enchanting world on Mistmantle. –
VOYA
About the Author
M.I. McAllister is the author of all the books in the Mistmantle Chronicles. She is married to a minister and has three grown children. She lives in England. Learn more at
www.margaretmcallister.co.uk.
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