Furnaces of Forge (The Land's Tale) Read online

  Contents

  Front Cover

  Title Page

  Imprint

  The Land map

  Cast of characters

  1 It Seemed Like a Good Idea

  2 Masterless Apprentices

  3 Harvest

  4 Unexpected Help

  5 Cinerite

  6 A Rescue

  7 Spoorhounds

  8 Three Journeys

  9 Needle and Thread

  10 All Is Right with the World

  11 An Untimely Mix

  12 A Council

  13 Enemies and Envoys

  14 A Gathering

  15 A Pillar of Blue Fire

  16 Roasting Day

  Also by Alan Skinner

  Sibling Press (Australia) Ptyt Ltd

  19 Gresford Road

  Wantirna, Victoria, 3152

  Australia

  www.sibling-press.com

  First Edition 2009

  This e-book edition published 2011

  Copyright © Alan Skinner

  The moral rights of the author and illustrator have been asserted

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN: 978-0-9872110-1-9

  Illustrations © Steve Crisp

  Cover design by Ian Hughes

  E-book production by

  www.mousematdesign.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may br reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

  Cast of Characters

  The Muddles

  Bray Donkey

  Bright Nurse

  Bristle Artist

  Burrow Badger

  Calamity Fire station puppy

  Cape Matador

  Charm Rabbit

  Chip Lumberjack

  Crimson Fire officer

  Flyte Wolf

  Grunge Rock musician

  Japes Jester

  Jules Eagle

  Kite Flying ace

  Leaf Scout

  Madigan Toucan

  Miniver Bear

  Patch Pirate

  Poke Detective

  Quick Swift

  Reach Ballerina

  Shades Meerkat

  Shift Bus driver

  Sky Astronaut

  Slight Magician

  Sparkle Fire station horse

  Wave Surfer

  Whist Manager of Home’s coffee house

  The Beadles

  Bligh High Councillor of Beadleburg

  Brian Factotum of Beadleburg

  Gertrude A Solicitor

  Megan Bus driver

  The Myrmidots

  Achillia Lord Mayor of Forge

  Beatrice Assistant to Lord Mayor

  Copper Engineer

  Cres Apprentice engineer

  Dot Apprentice engineer

  Ichabod Owner of Ichabod’s Creamery

  Jakob Waiter at Bellows Tavern

  Leonardo Chief Engineer

  Touch Apprentice engineer

  Wilhelm Retired engineer

  From The Place

  Amelia Aristocratic lady

  Chaos Spoorhound

  Clash Spoorhound

  Edith Aristocratic lady

  Hazlitt Aristocratic man

  Kevin Factotum of Mint

  Spite Spoorhound

  Strike Spoorhound

  Chapter 1

  It Seemed Like a Good Idea

  It was a brisk autumn day in Forge. The wind swirled the papers in the streets and the leaves on the lawns. It darted through the open windows of the tram and tugged at the scarves and hats of the passengers and rustled their newspapers. Jakob dozed in his seat; last night had been a long one at Bellow’s Inn. He felt a gust of wind on his neck and then his hat scooted from his head. Jakob jumped up and chased it down the aisle of the tram. It came to rest between a pair of long, sturdy black boots, the kind preferred by firefighters, and a pair of lime-green trainers.

  Jakob stooped to pick up his hat, and the world went hazy. A shimmering silver glow enveloped the two pairs of feet. Jakob rubbed his eyes. When he looked again, the boots and the trainers were gone, replaced by a pair of scarlet slippers with upturned toes and a pair of shiny black patent leather shoes. Jakob closed his eyes for a few seconds, wondering if he was dreaming, then opened them. The red slippers and the patent leather shoes were definitely there. Bewildered, he reached for his hat. At the same moment, a man’s arm descended, picked up the hat and offered it to him. The arm was bare to the elbow and above the elbow was the sleeve of a very colourful beach shirt.

  Jakob was not the only one who wondered if he was dreaming or needed his eyes testing. Those passengers not engrossed in the day’s news or the morning’s gossip had noticed, out of the corner of their eyes, the wavy silver glow coming from three passengers seated in the middle of the tram. They had turned and stared. As quickly as it had come, the glow had disappeared. But it had left behind something very odd. The tram filled with whispered chattering.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Jakob as he took his hat, and he looked straight into the face of a pretty, friendly-looking young woman wearing a firefighter’s hat. He smiled to himself. Of course . . .

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Crimson replied.

  ‘You’ve been to Forge before, have you not?’ asked Jakob, putting on his hat.

  ‘Yes, a few months ago.’ Crimson pointed to the passenger next to her. ‘Grunge and I came with –’

  ‘The Beadles. Ah yes, I remember. You met with our Lord Mayor, Achillia,’ Jakob finished for her. He looked her up and down. ‘I recall your faces, though perhaps not the rest of you.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Crimson replied. ‘And you’re Jakob, the waiter at Bellows.’

  Jakob gave a polite bow of his head. ‘Correct. I am flattered you remember.’ He tipped his hat. ‘It’s a pleasure to see you again, Crimson. And you, Grunge.’

  Jakob looked at the two Muddles. The last time he had seen Crimson, she had looked like any other firefighter. Now she was part firefighter, part surfer and part jester. And Grunge had looked like any other rock musician. But now he was part musician, part nurse and part . . .? Oh yes, that’s right. Slight, Muddlemarsh’s magician, always wore a very smart dinner suit and black dress shoes.

  Grunge smiled at Jakob. ‘Hi, Jakob. Wicked tram!’

  Again Jakob gave a small bow of his head. ‘I’m glad you like it.’ He looked at the passenger sitting on the floor beside Grunge’s feet. ‘I don’t believe I’ve met your other companion. It is rare to see a bear on a tram in Forge. Especially one of such a . . . configuration. May I hazard a guess? Could this be the famous Miniver?’

  ‘Well, mostly it’s her,’ laughed Grunge.

  Miniver looked askance at Jakob. ‘Configuration?’ she growled. ‘What is he implying?’ She looked down. True, her furry brown body and forelegs had been replaced by the tan, black and white breast and wings of an eagle, and her haunches and hind legs were now those usually found on a meerkat, but, all things considered, Miniver thought she looked pretty good.

  ‘From the sound of her growls I have said something to upset her.’ Jakob politely bowed his head in Miniver’s direction. ‘I apologise, Miniver, if I have caused offence. It is the first time I’ve seen the Muddles – what do you call it? – mix, I believe. And I would never dream of insulting the three heroes of Muddlemarsh who helped overcome the blue fire.’

  Crimson and Grunge exchanged embarrassed glances. None of them felt like heroes. Their adventure in the High Mountains was just s
omething they had been part of. They hadn’t felt heroic on the journey and certainly not since. And, at that moment, they definitely looked more odd than heroic.

  The tram’s bell clanged. ‘Forge centre!’ yelled the conductor. Jakob rose. Crimson, Grunge and Miniver made to stand as the tram slowed.

  ‘Are you going to Achillia’s office?’ asked Jakob. ‘Then may I suggest that you stay on the tram two minutes more until the next stop. You’ll find that closer.’

  The tram stopped and Jakob raised his hat to the Muddles. ‘Good day to you. It’s been an honour to meet you again.’ And he stepped off the tram.

  ‘Nice man,’ Miniver growled. ‘But strange.’

  ≈

  ‘It’ll explode.’

  ‘No it won’t,’ said a muffled voice.

  ‘Yes it will. It’ll explode,’ Cres said again. She sighed. ‘Big time.’

  Touch’s head appeared from inside the huge furnace. Patches of black soot marked his face. He held a long screwdriver in his right hand and he waved it proudly at his friend. ‘I adjusted the arterial precompression entropy tappets. That’ll fix it.’ He wiped his face on the sleeve of his overalls. ‘Go on, push the button.’

  Cres shook her head doubtfully. ‘Still won’t work. The aperture on the combustion chamber is too narrow. With the extra pressure . . .’ Her voice trailed off and she sounded glum. ‘It’ll explode and we’ll be in big trouble. Seriously big trouble. They might even take away our kits this time. For good.’ She sighed again. ‘We’ll be the only engineers in the history of Myrmidia who had their toolkits taken away.’

  Touch’s smile broadened. ‘We’re not engineers yet. We’re apprentices. But if it does work, we’ll be famous! They might even give us our own workshop!’

  ‘Yoe say that every time. But we always get the twisty end of the drill. Something always goes wrong. And remember how angry Beatrice was last time.’

  Touch scowled at the memory. ‘Well, this time she’ll have to eat her words. Fancy calling us Muddles. A pair of Muddle engineers. That was unfair. That cut me deeply.’

  Cres nodded her agreement. That had hurt. Muddles, indeed! Touch was right. They had to do something to make Beatrice eat her words. No matter how hard Cres tried, though, she couldn’t picture it. And if something went wrong again they’d be in real trouble. And something, somehow, always went wrong. ‘Maybe if we try it on something smaller first. You know, like a bread oven . . .’ she ventured.

  ‘Why think small? Think small, be small! Big ideas –’

  ‘Big trouble?’ suggested Cres.

  ‘. . . work best!’ Touch stepped away from the furnace and spread his arms wide. ‘This will get us noticed!’ He turned and grinned excitedly at his friend. ‘We can double – triple! – the power of the factories. With our new fuel valve, this factory will produce more than ever before. We’ll be the greatest engineers in Myrmidia! Heroes of industry – that’s what they’ll call us. Now, go on, Cres. Push the button.’

  ≈

  Jakob was right. Less than two minutes later the bell clanged and the conductor cried, ‘Forge Town Offices!’ Grunge picked up the large, flat parcel he had slid behind the seat and went with Crimson and Minever to the door. As the door opened there was a crashing boom of a loud explosion. The tram shuddered; its windows rattled and several passengers tumbled to the floor. Grunge and Crimson grabbed hold of the handrails as the carriage rocked sideways. The tram screeched to a stop. The noise of the explosion reverberated through Forge and the ground still trembled as they stepped on to the pavement.

  ‘What do they make here?’ Miniver asked.

  ≈

  The huge underground cavern that housed the furnace was filled with dust, soot and shards of concrete and rock. The pile of debris that covered the floor rustled and shifted. A hand appeared, then a head, and then a body rose from the rubble. Another body slowly rose next to the first. The two figures shook the dust from their heads and two pairs of eyes opened wide.

  ‘Hmm,’ said Touch. ‘That didn’t go so well, did it?’

  The second head turned and looked about the furnace room. The eyes closed and, with a sigh, Cres lay back among the chaos.

  ‘Do you think we’re in trouble?’ Touch asked.

  ≈

  Muddles are not a common sight in Myrmidia. Normally, it would be hard to tell a Muddle from a Myrmidot, except there aren’t many Myrmidots dressed as either jesters, pirates, ballerinas or matadors. Certainly there were no Myrmidots who were firefighter, surfer and jester – or rock star, nurse and magician – all at the same time. Crimson and Grunge attracted quite a bit of attention, particularly as they were accompanied by a bear with the body of an eagle and the hindquarters of a meerkat.

  Fortunately, Forge Town Offices are very close to the tram stop and the Muddles didn’t have to endure the curiosity of the good citizens of Forge for very long. And a great many of the Myrmidots seemed preoccupied with the explosion that had upset the routine of their town.

  When they arrived, the Muddles were escorted to Achillia’s office. The Lord Mayor rose from her desk and greeted them with hugs. Despite their serious and practical nature, Myrmidots are very fond of hugging. Crimson and Grunge introduced Miniver, who also received a hug from Achillia.

  ‘Oh, you’ve mixed! How charming!’ Achillia cooed, patting Miniver’s head and ruffling her feathers. ‘You didn’t go to all that trouble just for me, I hope?’

  ‘Ah, well, it just happened on the tram,’ Grunge explained.

  ‘As good a place as any to happen,’ said Achillia, resuming her seat. ‘It was very sweet of you to come. We’re very touched that you have brought us a gift to commemorate the adventure in the High Mountains.’

  Crimson tried not to feel irritated by Achillia’s condescending manner.

  ‘It will be good to see Copper and Dot again,’ Crimson said pointedly.

  ‘Of course,’ purred Achillia. ‘They will be here in a minute. We are a little bit at sixes and sevens at the moment. There seems to have been an . . . incident at the factories.’

  ‘We heard the noise,’ said Grunge. ‘It sounded like an explosion.’

  ‘Things aren’t always what they seem. But I shouldn’t have to tell that to a Muddle, now, should I?’ Achillia said just a trifle curtly. ‘Myrmidots make things, not blow them up.’

  ‘Of course, everyone knows Myrmidots . . .’ started Grunge, who really hadn’t meant to offend Achillia, but whatever else he was going to say was lost as the three Muddles once again glowed and shimmered.

  Achillia watched, fascinated, as the Mix ended. In a few seconds the glow faded and the Lord Mayor found herself looking at an ordinary fire officer, rock musician and very large but normal brown bear.

  ‘. . . best engineers in the Land,’ Grunge finished, as if nothing had happened.

  ‘How interesting,’ Achillia murmured. She was interrupted by a knock on the door. ‘Come,’ she commanded.

  The door opened and in walked Copper and Dot. Copper held a small cloth bag and Dot carried a large box. The engineer and his apprentice had accompanied the Muddles on the trip to the High Mountains and they had grown very fond of each other. There were lots of smiles and hugs, especially for Miniver. Dot and Miniver had become very good friends during their adventure. The apprentice had grown from a silent, troubled young girl into a confident and happy one thanks to Miniver’s patience and trust. Although Dot couldn’t understand Miniver’s growls, roars or rumbles, she had spent hour after hour talking to the Muddle bear.

  The hugs and greetings over, Achillia sat down in her impressive chair behind her impressive desk.

  ‘Please’ she said, indicating the visitors’ chairs on the other side of the desk. Miniver sat on the floor next to Dot. ‘Now, who’s going to go first?’

  Everyone looked at each other.

  ‘Go on, Grunge,’ Copper suggested.

  Grunge handed the large, flat parcel to Achillia. ‘By our artist, Bristle,’ he explai
ned.

  Achillia took a pair of scissors from her desk set. She snipped the string and cut the brown wrapping.

  ‘Why, it’s . . . it’s lovely!’ she exclaimed, in the sort of voice teachers use when they have to try very hard to be encouraging. She picked up the painting and turned it round for the others to see.

  The painting showed the seven companions – Crimson, Grunge, Brian, Aunt Mag, Copper, Dot and Miniver – on their way to the High Mountains to find the blue ice.

  ‘That’s you on the cart, Dot!’ cried Copper. ‘As if Miniver didn’t have enough hard work pulling the cart without you on top of it!’

  Copper and Dot were clearly delighted with the painting. To tell the truth, it didn’t really look like Copper and Dot; and Miniver was rather thin and her ears were too big. But the thought does truly count for more than we sometimes care to remember. And, in any case, for anyone who really knew Muddles, the last thing they would expect would be for a Muddle artist to be able to paint.

  ‘We all agreed that there was no better place to hang it than Forge’s council building,’ put in Crimson.

  ‘We are very grateful. We will have to think hard about where to hang it. We should like to do it justice,’ said Achillia thoughtfully. ‘Now, we have something for Home’s library. After all, it was there that you uncovered the existence of the blue ice.’ Achillia held out her hand. ‘Copper?’

  Copper reached into his bag and took out a large, leather-bound book. He handed it to Achillia.

  ‘This is an account of the journey, written by Copper and Dot. You can put it in your library, next to The Book of Meddle.’ Achillia riffled the pages. ‘Very thorough, Copper. Maps, sketches . . . Good work.’ She handed the book to Grunge. ‘We know you will look after it but, just in case, I believe Copper has made a copy for our records.’

  Copper took out another book, exactly like the first, and placed it on Achillia’s desk.

  Grunge looked at the book in his hand. It was beautifully bound and gave off the smell of leather, paper and glue. ‘Thank you, Achillia. We shall make sure that this story is not forgotten. And I’m sure Patch will read it so that he has more stories to tell.’ He smiled at Copper and Dot. ‘Thank you, both of you.’