Authors: Rebecca Lisle
Crystal
Contents
12 Crystal Reaches the West Gate
15 Questrid Has Some Very Small Visitors
22 ‘Are you perhaps Fountain?’
For Ishbel McLaren
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Version 1.0
Epub ISBN 9781448187362
First published in 2010 by
Andersen Press Limited
20 Vauxhall Bridge Road
London SW1V 2SA
www.andersenpress.co.uk
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.
The right of Rebecca Lisle to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
Text Copyright © Rebecca Lisle, 2010
Illustrations Copyright © Rebecca Lisle, 2010
Cover illustration © Paul Hess, 2010
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data available.
ISBN 978 1 84939 059 0
The Lake in the Glass Hills
Questrid didn’t mean to spy on Greenwood – it just happened.
He had come across a trail of snow beazle paw prints and was following them, hoping to catch a glimpse of the rare creature, when he found freshly made
man
prints in the snow.
Who else could be here, so far up the mountain?
He smiled to himself. The day had been perfect with a clear sky and the sun sparkling like diamonds on the snow. And now it was
more
perfect. He could have fun tracking those foot prints.
He saw a flash of leaf-green between the trees. He recognised that colour, it was Greenwood’s jacket! That was odd! What was
he
doing up in the Glass Hills? Greenwood was a very private man. He hardly ever left home. Mostly he worked in the Root Room carving wood or else reading in the library. What could he be up to?
If Questrid followed him, was it spying?
Then before Questrid could decide, Greenwood vanished. That made up his mind! Spying or not, he couldn’t resist the mystery. Pulling his woolly hat firmly down over his curly hair, he sprinted after him.
The trail of footsteps led him straight to the snow covered mountainside. Greenwood had gone
through
the rock!
No. Now that he had reached the spot he could see there was a gap. The giant rocks overlapped, one in front of the other, leaving a narrow zigzag track between them.
Puzzled, he followed the path, wanting to know where Greenwood had gone.
A minute later he was through the concealed passageway. He stopped; amazed at what he saw. Hidden away, enclosed by steep icy cliffs, was a strange circular lake. It was about a hundred paces wide and as perfectly round as a vast plate. The lake was frozen. It was pearly white, all except the very centre, which had melted and was a vivid turquoise blue.
Greenwood was striding over the ice towards that blue patch. Questrid hung back out of sight and watched.
As Greenwood neared the melted ice he walked more tentatively, arms held wide to help him balance – like a man walking the tightrope. When he reached the water he stopped. He took something from his pocket and held it up briefly. Questrid could see that it was the size and shape of an egg. He was sure he’d seen the object before, but didn’t know exactly what it was.
Then Greenwood did two strange things. First he kissed the egg object. Second he threw it into the water – so fiercely that Questrid heard the
plunk
sound from where he stood.
Plunk, plunky, plunky
, it echoed round the walls. Water droplets sprayed up and sparkled, making tiny rainbows in the sun.
Greenwood leaned over the meltwater and stared into it as if he could see something, or was hoping to see something. He stayed hunched and expectant like that for about ten minutes before at last coming back. Quickly Questrid dived behind the largest boulder and crouched there, trembling with guilt and worry. The noise of Greenwood’s feet crunching over ice and snow grew closer and Questrid’s heartbeat raced faster.
Suddenly Greenwood was right beside him, passing close enough to touch. Questrid took a nervous peek at him from behind the boulder as he went by. Greenwood’s thin long face was so still and pale it might have been made of ice itself. He walked with his eyes focused on something miles and miles away. He didn’t even glance at Questrid but strode past and out through the gap in the rocks.
Questrid stood up and sighed with relief. Now he couldn’t resist taking a look at the melted water. He stepped gingerly onto the frozen lake. The ice near the shore felt solid beneath his boots, but as he got closer to the middle the ice creaked and groaned as if he were hurting it. A couple of really sharp cracks and a tearing sound made him stop about two paces from the turquoise pool.
The melted ice formed a perfect circle of water within the perfect circle of the lake. Oddly, the water didn’t smell of fish or of rotting plants, but gave off a faint fruity smell, like squashed grapes. It looked deep, as if it went on forever and ever and ever …
He stared into its turquoise depths. Nothing. Whatever it was that Greenwood had thrown in, had sunk to the very bottom and disappeared.
The Lake in the Town
‘Mum! Mum, where are you?’ Crystal’s voice echoed off the empty walls of the apartment. ‘Mum!’
She checked each room then went to the doorway and peered outside into the street. She called again and again but there was no answer. The sky was grey and dirty looking: it wasn’t a good time to be out.
Crystal wanted to go to the lake. She had a sudden urge to stand at the edge and watch the water ripple and lap at the shore. But first her mother had to be found.
She stared past the derelict, shattered houses and the mounds of rubble in the street. Where
was
her mother? Once before she’d disappeared like this and that time Crystal had found her at—She ran to the side of the block and peered up towards the scrawny trees fringing Lop Lake. Yes, there! A hooded figure in a long skirt slipped in and out between the tree trunks. It was difficult to see in this gloomy twilight, but who else would it be?
It had to be her mum. But what was she doing? And had their spy seen her go?
Crystal dashed back inside. The sly-ugg was on the wall near the fireplace. It was about the size of a stunted courgette, only it was grey and orange. It was watching her, of course. Its inch-long eye-stalks twisted and waved like tiny dancing snakes. It must have seen her mum leave but Crystal could stop it from seeing more, or at least distract it.
She dropped a handful of fresh loffseed leaves in front of it. The sly-ugg always gobbled up loffseed leaves, so she thought they were its favourite. Quickly she raked up the coals in the fireplace and tossed a cup of water onto them. Smoke and steam puffed into the room. She heard a tiny wheeze from the sly-ugg, a minuscule cough. Serve it right. She heaped the coal dust from the bottom of the bucket onto the fire and waved her arms so the smoke rose up. Now the sly-ugg wouldn’t see her go. It was against the law to leave the sly-ugg – it had to accompany them everywhere. But not now, Crystal thought. Something odd was happening with her mum up at the lake and she didn’t want the sly-ugg to see.
She ran to the lake, jumping broken walls and stones and clattering over the sheets of corrugated iron that lay like giant playing cards along the path. She stopped beside a tree; it was a sick, warped thing with hardly any greenery, but still she breathed in the scent of sap and leaves greedily. She imagined the little tree responding to her touch, bending towards her rather than away. Crystal could watch her mother from here.
Lop Lake was perfectly round, as if someone had set down a plate and drawn round it before filling it with dingy water. Twisted bars of metal poked out from the surface like the bones of drowned animals; oil swirled on the surface. It was so grimy and stinking that no one else came here, not even the frogs. But Crystal did.
And now here was her mother, looking taller, nobler than Crystal had ever seen her before. She’d thrown back her hood and her white-blonde hair shimmered in the dull light. She was standing at the lake edge looking
through
the rubbish, staring
through
the dirty brown water. A sudden ripple of warm wind and the steely sky seemed to tense, like the air before a thunderstorm.
Crystal’s skin felt electric. Something was going to happen: she shivered with anticipation.
A bubble rose and burst in the centre. A ripple formed, then another, concentric circles frilled outwards.
Something was coming …