Doubleborn (23 page)

“I want him watched,” she said. “Send kravvins. Keep a distance, but follow him.”

Bakkmann clattered with anxiety.

“No one will be eaten,” warned Ash. “No one. Unless I say so. Tell the kravvins.”

She left Bakkmann to gather a squad together.

It was the hissing that was so horrid. The kravvins hissed at Smith. They hissed hatred. The fire in the forge hissed as the air drew up and fanned the flames. The hammer hissed through the air as Smith swung it, his thick arm tight with effort.

And when the hammer struck a kravvin’s head it hissed. But the worst hiss of them all was the high sizzle when Smith flung the kravvin on the fire. The red shell shattered and the pus fried.

It had been a hard battle. Smith was wet with sweat. The kravvins were giving up. Even their mindless swarming was beginning to fail against the remorseless attack of the hammer and the fire.

Their faces bore no expression. It was their posture, their gestures that suggested amazement and disappointment.

“Kill. Kill. Kill.”

Starback listened. They had stopped chanting “Fire”. All that remained was the desire to kill.

“Hello,” Smith sang out. “Come to help?”

Starback drew in his breath and spat out a huge gout of fire.

The kravvins shrieked with pleasure.

“Kill. Fire. Kill. Fire.”

They surged towards him.

“Stop!” shouted Smith. “Not that fire.”

He swung the hammer, smashing two at once and hauled them into the forge.

“Get out,” he said. “I’m fine.”

Starback didn’t like to leave the battle. He hesitated.

“Out. You’ll make it worse.”

The dragon collided with Winny, coming into the forge as he left. She dodged round him and stood next to her father.

“Take this,” he said, offering her a length of iron that had been in the furnace.

She slipped on a leather glove, grabbed the end of the rod furthest away from the glowing heat and brandished it at the kravvins.

They flinched.

She jabbed.

She thrust it in the neck of the nearest one.

It grabbed hold. Its hands popped. Its neck exploded. It fell and smashed like an egg.

She jabbed again.

Hot iron.

Hammer

Hot iron.

Hammer.

Furnace and fire.

The kravvins fell back.

“Kill. Run. Kill. Run.”

They made one last surge to attack.

Smith swung his hammer.

Winny jabbed the glowing iron.

The kravvins retreated, turned and fled.

Starback edged back in.

“All right,” said Smith. “It’s clear now. Come on.”

Starback sniffed the forge. Dragons know about fire.

“That’s right,” said Smith.

Starback looked at him.

“Sorry,” said Smith. “Thank you for your help. It was brave of you.”

Starback flicked his tail and let the end of it touch the fire in the furnace.

“Careful,” said Winny.

“It’s all right,” said Smith. “He knows what he’s doing. Don’t you?”

Starback pushed his tail deeper into the hot coals. It was cool. Cool as a stream in autumn. Cool as cloud.

Smith laughed.

“There’s fire,” he said, “and there’s dragon fire. They’re different. And then there’s my fire. That’s different again.”

He put down the hammer and wiped his hands on his leather apron.

Winny put the glowing iron into the bucket of water by the forge. It died in a new hissing. A comforting hiss.

“It’s not even like the fire that other smiths use,” Smith continued.

He leaned over and put his arm round Starback’s neck. It was an intimacy that no one would dare to offer. Starback started to recoil, thought better of it and enjoyed the strong gesture of friendship.

“Shall I call you Sam?” asked Smith.

Starback gave him a surprised look.

“Best not to,” said Smith. “Anyway, my fire is not like any other fire you’ll ever know.” He stirred the coals with a poker. “This furnace goes straight down to the Deep World. It’s a gate. A link. A bridge. This is roffle fire. And what you make with this fire stays made.”

“You shouldn’t be saying this,” said Winny.

“He needs to know. Sam needs to know. Those kravvins. They’re made of fire. Somehow. They were drawn here by the fire. You know they were.”

“Boolat,” said Winny.

“Boolat,” he agreed. “And Ash. We’re going to have to deal with them now. And we’ll need help. We need your help,” he said to Starback. “And Sam’s. And, by the stars, we could do with Flaxfield’s help, but that’s gone from us now.”

Starback let his head droop.

“Sorry,” said Smith. “Do you miss Flaxfield? We all do.”

Winny touched Starback’s head.

“I miss him,” she said. “Awkward and difficult though he was. I miss him, too.”

Starback drew back from their touch. He wanted to be away from them. He wanted to be with Sam. And, in a way that he didn’t understand and that was quite new to him, he wanted to be with that girl, with Tamrin.

“Let’s clear this mess up,” said Smith. “And then we’ll see what to do next.” ||

to stop himself from bumping into Flaxfold.

“You can close that door,” she said. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

Flaxfold shooed them back inside.

“And why shouldn’t I be here?” she said. “Hello, Jaimar. How’s business?” She ran her finger over the carved foliage of the door frame. “This is nice work.”

“Flaxfold,” said Jaimar. “Welcome. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Good. Now, who’s this? Tamrin? And a roffle. What’s your name?”

Tamrin scowled. Solder waved and grinned.

“Solder,” he said, after only a slight pause to swallow what he was chewing.

“You needn’t bother with your roffle talk with me,” she warned him. “I know better than that.”

She shrugged off her cloak and hung it on a hook. Her fingers found a wandering strand of grey hair and she tucked it in.

“Now,” she said. “Let me see Tamrin. Come on, girl. Let’s have a look at you.”

Tamrin turned her back on Flaxfold.

“You haven’t said why you’re here,” said Sam. “And how do you know Jaimar?”

Flaxfold sat at the table next to Solder. She looked around, taking stock of the room, noting changes, approving the cleanness and the neatness.

“There’s not a better place for a tired traveller to stop and eat within a hundred miles,” she said.

Jaimar put her hand to her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ll get you something.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” said Flaxfold. “I don’t want to be any trouble.”

Sam marvelled at the way that Flaxfold, while looking so insignificant, could take over and organize any room she walked into. He wished that Tam would come and say hello. She was standing by the door, concentrating on the frame, the leaves and tendrils, the stems twining up and over.

“That’s lovely work,” said Flaxfold.

Tam ignored her.

Flaxfold coughed, gently. Tamrin stepped back and exclaimed.

“Something wrong?” asked Flaxfold.

Sam moved next to Tamrin to see what she was looking at.

A smooth brown mouse scampered along a twig. It had no fur, but was carved from dark oak, the grain of the wood patterning its body. A snail, paler, carved perhaps from walnut, slid along a leaf. A wren and a ladybird, another mouse and a caterpillar. The foliage that Tamrin had created was alive with wooden creatures, beautiful in their detail, supple as silence. They hopped and slid and clambered, in and out of the leaves. And in the top corner, half-hidden, a green man grinned out at them, its face all leaves and twigs.

“Are you doing this?” asked Tamrin.

“Ah, that’s better. I can see you now. And you’re not bad-looking. Not at all. At least, you wouldn’t be if you weren’t pulling that face at me. Anger does you no favours, Tam. Now, if only you’d—”

She stopped and stared. Sam had turned as well. And now the two of them stood side by side, facing Flaxfold.

“Oh,” she said. “That’s the way of it, is it? That’s the way of it.”

“What?” said Sam.

Flaxfold’s face was creased with surprise.

“I didn’t even think of that,” she said. “Not that. No. I didn’t think of it.”

“Didn’t think of what?” asked Sam.

Tamrin stepped up and stood over Flaxfold, her face set hard with anger and curiosity.

“What?” she demanded.

Jaimar came through with a bowl of lentil soup and warm bread.

“Ah, food,” said Flaxfold. “Thank you.”

Tamrin pushed the bowl away from Flaxfold.

“You’re not eating anything until you tell me what you mean. What didn’t you think of?”

“I really think I preferred it when you wouldn’t look at me,” she said. “Sam, please will you look after Tamrin until I’ve eaten?”

Sam took Tamrin’s arm to move her away from the table. Tamrin shook him off. He felt a jolt and fell back. He couldn’t see. A pain shafted through his head. He called out and put his hand to his eyes. The blackness cleared. He glared at Flaxfold, hating her. He had a memory of dark corridors and lonely days, of being ignored and jeered at. He saw Smedge’s face, calm, composed, attacking him with cool precision. He felt lost in a sea of loneliness. He was Tamrin. There was little of Sam left in his mind. He wanted to strike out at Flaxfold, make her talk to him.

The moment passed. He returned to himself, but not without some remnant of the experience, some memory of the feeling. He was more than Sam now. Something extra had been added to him. And he was less than Sam. Something had been taken away. Some element of the singleness of being himself had gone, for ever.

He looked at Tamrin and saw that she was shocked, too. The mixing had taken place in her as well.

Jaimar stared at him. Solder looked curiously. Flaxfold spooned soup from the bowl and broke off a hunk of bread.

“You two had better go and talk for a while,” she said. “Then I’ll tell Tam what she wants to know, when I’ve eaten.”

They couldn’t talk. They sat apart, at a separate table, silent and subdued. They looked at each other and looked away. Sam wondered – that is, Tam wondered – that is, they wondered, which of us is first and which reflected?

At last, Flaxfold put down her spoon.

“Sit with me,” she said. She spoke first to Tamrin. “You’re wearing the pendant.”

“I couldn’t help it,” said Sam. “It goes to her every time.”

“So it does,” said Flaxfold.

Tamrin held it in her hand. Sam felt the comfort of its weight.

“How did you find out?” asked Flaxfold.

“What did you mean,” asked Tamrin, “when you said you never thought of that?”

“We both know the answer to that,” said Flaxfold. “Now, how did you find out about yourselves?”

Sam looked anxiously at Jaimar and Solder.

“You needn’t worry about them,” said Flaxfold. “Whatever’s brought the four of us together means you can speak freely with them here.”

“Five,” said Solder.

“Carry on,” said Flaxfold.

Sam explained about the tailor and the shop and the mirror.

“And the mirror is there?” she asked. “Now?”

“Yes.”

Flaxfold stood quickly.

“Then we’ve no time to waste,” she said. “Take me there.”

Solder hopped off his barrel and shouldered it, ready to follow.

“You stay here,” said Tamrin.

“He’d better come along,” said Flaxfold. “We don’t know why he’s got involved. Best to wait and see.”

Jaimar hesitated.

“Do you want to come along?” asked Flaxfold.

“Not really.”

“Then stay here. That’s what’s chosen you. We’ll be back.”

She gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and led them out.

Shoddle’s bell rang out, louder in the darkness than in the daylight. Flaxfold hardly gave the tailor a second glance.

“Is this the staircase?” she asked.

“Hey, you. What are you doing?”

Shoddle couldn’t see them. His face was turned to the wall. Flaxfold paused, crossed to him and put her hand to his cheek, moving him so that he could see her.

“Couldn’t you mend him?” she asked.