The Seventh Tide by Joan Lennon

Author:Joan Lennon
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780141326672
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2008-11-12T22:00:00+00:00

FAQ 1,499: Is the author of these pages really a ferret? If so, how can an animal who has no opposable thumb manage to hold a pen?

HURPLE’S REPLY: I could answer your question with something gnomic like, ‘Ah, but I am no ordinary ferret’ or ‘There’s more than one way to skin a rabbit.’ But I’ll restrain myself. The straight answer to the question is an ingenious invention of the G – who frequently find themselves similarly embarrassed in the opposable-thumbs department. And that is… voice-activated paper. Pure and simple. Because, as they say, ‘There’s more than one way…’

‘Right,’ said Jay with half a smile. ‘Look, I know I was whingeing to have a roof over my head again, but now I think the price is too high, and so are these Neanderthals. I’m heading outside for a bit of fresh air. Want to come?’

‘Yes.’ Adom nodded his head vigorously. ‘Yes, please!’

It wasn’t long before Hurple had finished his note-taking and turned his eye to the meeting of elders. He gave a fake yawn and muttered to Eo out of the corner of his mouth, ‘I’m going to pretend to go to sleep now – if I go to that rock over there, I’m pretty sure I can listen in on the old boys – see if they’re talking about anything that might be of help to us.’

‘Do divine beings eavesdrop?’ Eo whispered back.

‘What would you know – you’re just a slave,’ muttered Hurple. ‘And I’m ordering you to go and make some friends. Remember, so far what we’ve been given has been pretty unexpected. No reason to think it’ll be different this time!’

A ferret can move fast when he wants to. In under a blink, the Professor was across the floor and curled up on a stone at convenient eavesdropping distance from the meeting of men.

Eo grinned to himself, and then looked about for somebody to talk to. He noticed a boy sitting by himself in the entrance and decided to go over and say hello.

The boy had his back to the cave, presumably to get the best light for the thing he was bent over. It looked like a leg bone of some sort of animal.

‘What’s that you’re making?’ asked Eo politely.

The boy jumped and thrust the bone behind his back. He was a good bit younger than Eo, though it wasn’t that easy to tell.

These faces are impossible to read, thought Eo to himself, and then the boy smiled, and he changed his mind.

‘It’s a flute,’ the boy said. ‘Don’t tell.’

Eo hunkered down beside him. ‘I won’t tell.’ He poked a finger at the bone. ‘Aren’t you supposed to, um, make flutes?’

The boy shook his head, and glanced over his shoulder. ‘This is bear,’ he said, as if that explained it.

It didn’t.

‘Bear bone is not a good thing for flutes?’ Eo said tentatively.

‘No – bear is wonderful for flutes. The notes are beautiful, pure… wonderful! Just not wonderful for us to make flutes out of He looked at Eo, as if waiting for understanding to dawn.

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