Amethyst (6 page)

But she was …

All her life her uncle and aunt had drummed into her how plain she was. How stupid. The only thing they’d praised her for was for spoiling things. They’d told her stories about the weak and wishy-washy Wood Clan and the superiority of the Rocks. Now here she was, surrounded by wooden things and Wood People – and it wasn’t the way they’d described it at all.

Copper truly seemed to like her. Nobody had ever liked her before. Because how could anyone like her? A spoiler? But Copper didn’t know about her spoiling skills …

Amy went over to the window. She needed more air. She felt weak. The effect of Copper liking her was actually making her feel wobbly, as if bits of her were leaking out.

Or was it just being surrounded by all this wood?

She pushed open the window and sucked in the cold, fresh mountain air. She felt better immediately. I must be strong, she told herself. And cold. Like stone.

Amy’s room was at the back of the house, overlooking a small courtyard. Two very large horses leaned over their stable doors on the far side of the yard. In the roof above the stable were three windows. Copper had told her Qestrid had that room.

As Amy turned back to the room, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror above the chest. She stopped.

She looked different! She stood very still. The rockgoyle’s words came back to her. Sharp, agonising, like a dagger stabbing, the words cut her.

Spoiling! Spoiling! You’ll spoil yourself!

She leaned closer and studied her face, scanning every inch of it in the mirror. Her nose was bulbous! Her eyelashes were shorter, they definitely were and there were bumps around her chin like warts!

Amy’s heart pounded and throbbed painfully. She closed her eyes. She took a deep breath. She wiped the mirror over, bent even closer …

There. Nothing. It was rubbish! She was fine! Just her imagination. Silly. The rockgoyle had been trying to scare her, that’s all …

Someone knocked on the door. Amy jumped and spun round.

‘Sorry!’ Copper burst in. ‘I thought maybe I should help you get sorted because the sooner it’s done, the sooner we can go out and I can show you everything – before it’s dark. Did you see the horses?’ She squeezed in beside Amy, next to the window. ‘Thunder and Lightning. Aren’t they fantastic? They pull the big sledge. Questrid’s in charge of them.’

Amy had to fight to speak normally.

‘Is he?’ she said. She took a big breath. ‘Really. Why doesn’t Questrid live in here?’

‘Because he likes it out there,’ said Copper, leaning against the wall beside her. ‘Sometimes Questrid thinks he’ll go back to the Rock and live with Ruby, but he doesn’t like the Rock – it’s ever so stony and gloomy. Oh, sorry again. That sounds rude! Of course it won’t seem gloomy to you. Or stony! He likes bits of both worlds. Here, let me get this stuff packed away,’ she added. She began tossing Amy’s clothes into the drawers.

‘I suppose the Rock’s not what he’s used to,’ she went on. ‘You do have a lot of clothes, Amy… Questrid didn’t know who his parents were. He didn’t want to believe he was a Rocker, poor thing, but he carves stone beautifully which is such a giveaway. But now Questrid accepts he’s a bit of both. It turns out his father was a Wood. You seem perfectly happy being who you are. I like that.’

Amy swallowed uncomfortably.

‘This is going to be such fun!’ cried Copper. ‘You’ve no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to you coming. I’ve never really had a proper friend before—’

‘Not even in the South?’ asked Amy.

‘No. I felt so different. What about you?’

Amy was caught off guard.

‘Oh, lots. Lots and lots of friends,’ she lied. ‘Yes. I really like my school. I’m in the top set for everything.’

‘Wow!’ said Copper. ‘Well done.’

Amy stared at the carved wooden chest without seeing it. ‘My friends must miss me,’ she added lamely.

‘Oh, don’t worry, we’ll get letters. Bird o’gram. It’s very reliable but of course sometimes the letters are a bit pecked …’

‘Yes?’ What an idiot I am, Amy told herself. I don’t need to make this up. I don’t have to. ‘My best friend’s called Izzy,’ she heard herself rattle on. ‘She’s very pretty, blonde. Really good at netball.’

‘Really? You lucky thing!’ said Copper. She sat on the bed. ‘At my school everyone laughed at me for knitting.’

‘I didn’t know you knitted.’

‘I did. All the time. Aunt Ruby never minded about me knitting. It’s the only thing I miss here. I used to knit when I was unhappy or feeling unravelled and loose. I knitted when I was happy too. I just had to knit. But now …’

‘Yes?’

‘Well, Amber, she’s—’

‘What?’

‘She’s
hidden
my knitting needles. Every single one she could find. And my crochet hooks. She doesn’t want me to do it any more.’ Copper turned her green eyes on Amy. ‘Why do you think she did that?’

‘I don’t know.’ Amy leaned forward, hoping Copper would tell her about Amber knitting gold. Did she still do it? Where did she do it? Were they rich?

But Copper only giggled.

‘I’ve no idea why she did it either,’ she said. ‘She used to like knitting too. Actually, I do still have one little pair
that Aunt Ruby gave me years ago.’ She grinned. ‘I’m keeping them hidden. Just in case Mum gets her hands on them. Have to knit, you know.’

They heard the patter of claws on the floorboards outside and Ralick came in. He sat down at Copper’s feet. She stroked his head.

‘I don’t mean to say anything against your people,’ Copper said. ‘But Granite kept my mother a prisoner once. And Silver, too. Her babies died, all except Ralick. I’ll never forgive him for any of that. He locked me up. He’s mad.’

‘Oh, yes, well …’ Amy wondered what she could say. ‘Granite’s old-fashioned. He’d like to keep the Rockers and the Woods separate, wouldn’t he? He doesn’t like mixing.’

‘That’s right. He lived in the Rock up there.’ Copper pointed vaguely out towards the mountains. ‘He’s gone now. Some people say he killed Old Lord Lazulite to take over his domain. I wouldn’t be surprised … Now Granite reckons he’s the new Lord of all the Rock People. That’s what I’ve heard.’

The cub was staring at Amy. His brow was wrinkled as if he understood what they were saying. It was really very unnerving.

Copper showed Amy all over the house, then all round the snow-covered garden. Amy felt brighter outside in the cold air.

Ralick followed them.

‘The lake’s frozen. Cedar says the ice is a metre thick,’ said Copper. She squatted down beside the ice and wiped away the dusting of snow. The water had turned a clotted, hazy grey. ‘We can go skating if you want. And we can go sledging later. Questrid’s been working on making a sledge for you ever since he knew you were coming.’

‘Has he? Why?’

‘To make you feel at home of course.’ Copper stared at her. ‘What a funny question!’ Copper picked up Ralick and snuggled him under her chin, kissing the flat top of his head. ‘But you can’t come, Ralick. You’ll have to stay behind.’

Skating. There might be a chance for me to grab
Ralick then, Amy thought. While Copper’s busy … But it was only a fleeting thought. Stealing the cub seemed rather unimportant now. She let the idea slip back into the deeper corners of her mind.

When Amy was alone in her room she missed Copper. Copper’s working some Wood magic on me, she told herself. How could I like her? This is madness. Granite needs my help.
He
is the Lord of the Rockers. He’s the one that counts, not these Woods. I must hold out against the Woods and all their charms.

She needed to feel something Rocky. She took the stone carving she had begun on the train from her bag. She clasped the cold rock between her pale hands. The face she’d chiselled was only a blur, just a suspicion of a nose, mouth and eyes, it wasn’t revolting – yet.

I could make it nice, for once, she thought. There’s no Uncle John or Aunt Agnes to make me spoil it.

What if this stone was me? I’d want to be beautiful, wouldn’t I? But still hard and strong?

A corner of her sculpture crumbled to dust and fell into her lap.

At seven o’clock, Copper called Amy to come downstairs for supper.

The kitchen was bright and too warm. Cedar and Amber were there. A small woman with a long striped skirt was stirring a pot on the cooker.

‘This is Oriole,’ said Copper. She led Amy towards her. Oriole spun round and fixed Amy with her bright, beady eyes.

Amy noticed immediately the way Oriole put her head to one side to look at her and how she hop-walked like a sparrow. ‘You aren’t a Wood!’

Oriole laughed. ‘No, my dear, I’m from the Bird Clan of course and this is Robin, my husband.’

Robin was also short, with long hair tied in a ponytail. He stood with his arms tucked behind his back like folded wings. Alarge, startlingly white seagull sat on his shoulder. It snapped its curved beak. Its shiny yellow eyes were like tiny wet berries. They glared at Amy.

‘This is Casimir. He’s a snow seagull. Don’t mind him,’ said Robin, cocking his head on one side, just like the bird. ‘All show he is.’

Amy tried not to mind him. She tried not to mind any of it: the wood, the warmth, the animals – enormous Silver and little Ralick, tucked up in Copper’s arms. Bravely she admired the green and white pots arranged neatly on the dressers. She cooed over a nest of thrushes she spotted tucked in behind a teapot. She tried to ignore the constant traffic of birds swooping around the room and singing all the time.

‘I look after the birds,’ Robin told her. ‘If you’re good to them, they’ll look out for you. Ask Copper.’

‘It’s true,’ Copper said.

Amy smiled. Inside her head alarm bells rang. Granite hadn’t told her everything. Yes, he’d said there were birds, but these seemed different from ordinary birds. Specially the snow seagull. It looked really smart. Any one of them might see me if I –
when
I try to steal Ralick – and they’ll easily follow me. I’ll have to be very careful.

Questrid came in. Their eyes met and Amy smiled as best she could, but he knew! She could tell! He gave her such a calculating stare. He knew she was a spy. His honey-coloured eyes were fierce and hard as amber. She expected him to leap on her and demand to know what she was up to.

But he didn’t. He patted Ralick and then politely asked Amy what she’d been doing and if she liked Spindle House.

‘It’s wonderful here,’ she said.

‘But I expect you’d rather live up at the Rock,’ said Questrid. He eyed her suspiciously. ‘More your type of thing.’

‘I’ve never been to the Rock, never been up to the mountains at all,’ she said. ‘Though I know it was Ruby’s idea. Helping break down the barriers between our clans. Forging new links, that sort of thing.’

‘Hmm,’ said Questrid. ‘Trust Ruby to think this one up.’

The rest of the family came in and took their places at the long table.

Amy noticed that everyone had wooden spoons and wooden-handled knives and forks, except her. Even Amber did, and she was a pure Rocker. Amy had been given a silver soup spoon. It was engraved with flowers and birds.

‘It’s very beautiful,’ she said. ‘Far too lovely for me!’ She distinctly heard her Aunt Agnes’s voice saying:
She’ll spoil it! She spoils everything!

‘Oh, that’s nonsense, Amethyst. It’s perfect for you,’
said Amber, gently. ‘Why shouldn’t you have the nicest thing? You’re lovely too!’

Amy felt her cheeks go so red and hot she thought her head might burst. A compliment. They were so rare. First Granite and now Amber. Amy stared down at the table, waiting for someone to contradict Amber, or laugh. No one did. Conversation continued around her. Amy stared unseeing at the loaf of bread, listening to Aunt Agnes whining in her head:
Don’t believe a word of it. You’re not pretty. You’re as ugly as a gargoyle. Horrible little girl! Glad you’re not mine!

Had Amber only said that to make her feel good? Had she guessed Amy was a spy, a traitor and liar come to steal? Was it a trick to disarm her?

‘You could try a wooden spoon if you wanted,’ Questrid said.

‘Could I? I just feel I ought to do the same as all of you,’ said Amy. ‘I mean, I’m trying to fit in, aren’t I?’

‘Sure, go ahead!’ Questrid handed her a wooden spoon. He glanced at the silver spoon as he took it away. Amy saw him out of the corner of her eye. He slipped the spoon into his pocket. She felt anxious. The silver spoon had changed, she’d felt it. She’d spoilt it.

Amy picked up the wooden spoon. Everyone else stopped eating to watch her.

Uh oh, she thought. A trick of some sort? They were holding their breath, they were staring! Using a wooden spoon can’t be that difficult!

‘Go on,’ said Copper.

Amy dipped the spoon into the soup, then, as she raised it to her lips, the handle went completely slack. It hung limply from her hand like a rag. Soup dribbled out.

‘Ow!’ cried Amy, dropping the spoon. ‘What the …?’

Everyone, except Amber, burst out laughing. ‘Don’t mind them, or the spoon,’ she told her. ‘It’s a Greenwood spoon and temperamental. So much for our two clans working together, hmm? Stick to the metal one for now, until you’ve got a bit more influenced.’