Dread Mountain

Lief was dreaming. The dream seemed very real. He was standing by the old pump in the forge yard. The yard was dark and deserted. It is night, he thought. Mother and Father will be inside at this hour. But the house was dark too, and though he called from the door, and again from the kitchen, no one answered.

Confused, but not yet frightened, he walked into the living room. Light from the full moon shone through the window. The curtains had not been drawn. That was odd. And things were lying on the floor: books and papers, scattered everywhere. His parents would never have left them that way.

Their bedroom was empty, the bed tumbled and unmade, clothing lying on the floor. There was a jar of dead flowers on the chest. Now he knew that something was wrong. In fear, he ran outside once more. The moon shone down on the empty yard. The forge gate was swinging. There was a mark on it. He could not quite see what it was. He moved closer, his heart thudding. Then he saw it.

Lief woke with a start. Sweat was beading his forehead, he was breathing fast, and his hands were trembling. He told himself that he had been dreaming, dreaming. There was nothing to fear.

Slowly he realized that the sky above him was pale and the stars had almost disappeared. It was nearly dawn. He had slept the night through. But — surely Jasmine, who had taken the second watch, had not forgotten to call him?

He glanced over to where he had seen Jasmine settling to rest the night before. She was still lying there, breathing quietly and evenly. Kree was huddled beside her. And not far away sat Barda, his back against a tree, his head on his chest. He too was sleeping soundly.

Lief almost laughed. So, despite their sensible plans, they had all slept. Perhaps it was as well. They needed rest, and as it happened, nothing had troubled them in the night.

He felt very thirsty. Silently he unrolled himself from his blanket, got up, and moved through the trees towards the spring. His bare feet made no noise at all on the soft grass. That was something else about the grove that was unusual, he realized — the trees seemed to shed no leaves or sticks at all.

He had almost reached the spring when he heard it: a soft splashing sound. Someone — or something — was drinking.

Lief’s hand crept to the hilt of his sword. He half-turned, thinking to wake Barda and Jasmine. But he was so near to the spring now that it seemed foolish not to at least peep at whatever had entered the grove. Holding his breath, he stole around the last tree and looked.

A plump shape was bent over the water, lapping. It was an animal of some kind — about as big as a large dog, but far rounder than any dog Lief had ever seen. Lief narrowed his eyes, struggling to see it clearly in the dim light. The creature was a rich, chestnut brown. It seemed to have no fur, and its ears were small and set close to its head. It had short, stubby back legs, and slender front paws. The skin on its back and sides was oddly marked, folded, and rippled.

What was it?

He took a step forward, and at the same moment the creature straightened, turned, and saw him.

Lief gazed at wide, startled dark eyes, whiskers stiff with fright, a pink, open mouth, and small front paws clasped together in fear, and the strangest feeling of pleasure and peace flowed through him. He could not understand it, but he knew one thing clearly: the creature was harmless, gentle, and very frightened.

“Do not be afraid,” he said in a low, soothing voice. “I will not harm you.”

The creature still stared at him. But Lief thought that some of the fear had left its eyes, to be replaced by curiosity.

“I will not harm you,” he repeated. “I am a friend.”

“What is your name?” the creature asked in a squeaky voice.

Lief jumped violently. It had not occurred to him that it could speak. “My name is Lief,” he said, without thinking.

“I am Little — I mean, Prin, daughter of the Kin,” said the creature. She stood upright and began waddling towards Lief, her short legs toiling across the grass, her front paws bent, her mouth curved into a sweet and hopeful smile.

Lief’s jaw dropped in astonishment. Waves of memory were flooding over him. No wonder he had felt that feeling of peace when first he saw Prin’s face. How could he not have realized before what she was?

Kin! The fabled flying creatures that every child in Del knew of. Had Lief not had a toy Kin, Monty, to sleep with from his earliest days? His mother had made Monty out of soft brown fabric stuffed with straw, and over the years the little creature had grown worn and battered. Now he was kept hidden away in a drawer with other treasures, well out of sight of teasing friends. But once he had been Lief’s trusted companion and comforter, carried around everywhere. How often in those days had Lief wished that Monty would come to life?

And this creature could be that wish come true, Lief thought. It could be Monty walking towards him over the grass. But surely — surely he had been told that the gentle, kindly Kin died out long ago? Surely they only existed now in old tales and picture books?

Lief swallowed, and for a moment wondered if he was still dreaming. But Prin was standing in front of him, large as life. Now he could see that she did have fur after all — a silken fuzz like fine brown moss. Her folded wings were covered with the same velvety stuff. He longed to stroke them, to see if they were as soft as they looked.

“Will you play with me, Lief?” asked Prin, twitching her whiskers and bouncing up and down on her toes. “Will you play hide-and-find?”

Lief realized then that she was very young. And of course she must be! Standing upright she only reached his shoulder. But fully grown Kin, he had been told, were so large that people in the old days, looking up and seeing them in the sky, had sometimes taken them for dragons and tried to shoot them down.

“Where is your family?” he asked, looking around. “Should you not ask —?”

“They are still dreaming!” said Prin scornfully. “They will not wake till long after the sun comes up. See?”

She pointed to what Lief had taken to be groups of huge rocks scattered among and beyond the trees. To his amazement, Lief saw that they were not rocks at all, but Kin, curled up so tightly that all that could be seen of them were their hunched backs.

“I am supposed to stay curled until they wake,” said Prin, lowering her voice. “But it is not fair. I have nothing interesting to dream of. I would rather play. Now — you hide and I will sing. I will not cheat, I promise! I will sing slowly, and I will close my ears as well as my eyes. Ready? Go!”

She put her paws over her eyes and began to sing.

“You can hide but I will find you,

My sharp eyes will seek you out …”

Lief quickly realized that the song was used by Kin children instead of counting. At the end of her song Prin would open her eyes and expect to find him gone. Not wishing to disappoint her, he ran away quickly and hid behind one of the trees in the thickest part of the grove.

It was not a very clever hiding place, but he did not want to stray far from where Jasmine and Barda were sleeping, and at least it would show the little Kin that he wanted to be friendly.

Flattening himself against the trunk of the tree, he smiled to himself as he listened to her voice squeaking on towards the end of the song.

“… You can hide but I will find you,

Flap your wings and you’ll be out!

You can hide but I will find you.

My sharp eyes will — oh!”

With a choking squeak the song broke off. There was a burst of loud, harsh laughter.

“Got it!” roared a voice. “Yo, help me! It’s putting up a fight.”

Horrified, Lief crept out from behind his tree and peered back to the spring. Two Grey Guards were bending over a struggling bundle on the ground. The bundle was Prin.

They had thrown a jacket over her head, and now were winding her round and around with rope.

“Give it a kick, Carn 4,” the second Guard growled. “That’ll teach it.”

Lief smothered a cry as Carn 4 kicked savagely and the bundle stilled.