Snowbone Read Free

wouldn't want to be seen like this: lost, shaken, tight as a pinecone. But he couldn't leave her there.
    “It's not like you to be up at dawn,” he said as he sat down beside her.
    Snowbone lifted her head. “I'm not hurt.”
    “No. Neither is a pigeon when he falls from a nest. He's a bit wobbly, though.”
    “I'm not wobbly.”
    “No.” Griddle saw her proud little face, trying to be brave. He had to smile.
    “I was trying to dive-bomb.”
    “Aye. Well, I'd leave that to them that are daft enough to do it. You let well alone, that's my advice. Stick to what you're good at.”
    “I don't know what that is.”
    “Well, you've not been long in the world, have you? Happen you'll find out one day. Now me, I'm good at cooking. And I know there's a frying pan down in the galley right now, crying:
Griddle! Griddle! Come and make pancakes!
And since you're not hurt, or wobbly, or upset, or any of those things, perhaps you could help me. Do you like pancakes?”
    “Don't know. Never had one.”
    “Oh, then you are in for a treat, little lady! A hot pancake, with a touch o' lemon and a dollop of syrup … Oh! My mouth's gone all dribbly, just thinking about it. Come on!”
    Snowbone had been sitting for so long, her joints had seized up. Getting up wasn't easy. But Griddle turned his back and pretended not to notice her struggle. He didn't offer any help and Snowbone didn't ask for any.
    But she did ask for extra syrup on her pancakes, and Griddle was more than happy to give her that.

Chapter 4
    fter seven days at sea, Ashenpeake Island came into sight: a dark land, wrapped in sea mist, with the great, snowcapped cone of Ashenpeake Mountain rising above it all.
    This was where the tiddlins would soon be setting up home. Lord Fox, the pirate captain, had made the decision. He didn't dislike the tiddlins, but he had no use for them. They were too young to go to sea and too many to stay at the pirates' hideaway.
    “They're such hungry little beggars,” he said. “They'll eat all we have. No, they must go elsewhere.”
    Lord Fox decided to settle them at the north end of Ashenpeake Island. They would be safe there: the land was heavily forested and sparsely populated. The pirate captain had no doubt they would survive. They would be well provisioned and there would be time for them to learn survival skills before they were taken to their new home. Snowbone was a strong, capable leader and the group wasn't overlarge. Of the hundreds of babies born during the attack on the
Hope
, just twenty-eight remained. Many had died in the fire and most ofthe survivors had jumped overboard in search of adventure. They had drifted away on the waves, bobbing like driftwood, laughing and waving and wriggling their toes.
    “It's a perfect plan,” Lord Fox told himself. “They'll
adore
Ashenpeake. They'll build a camp and make it cozy. It'll soon feel like home.”
    In truth, Ashenpeake Island really
was
the tiddlins' home. They were Ashenpeakers. They belonged to the oldest race of people in the world.
    Ashenpeakers were proud, hardworking, steadfast folk. Their wooden bodies made them immensely strong and virtually indestructible. But this blessing became a curse when someone, somewhere, realized that Ashenpeakers would make perfect slaves.
    From that single thought, a worldwide slave trade had grown and flourished. Over the years, thousands of eggs had left Ashenpeake Island, bound for the Nova Land, Candalia, Tuva—wherever cheap labor was needed. The eggs were stored until they were wanted, then thrown into fires, triggering an incredible process that catapulted them from birth to work within a month, full of strength and empty of memory. Perfect slaves, with no past happiness to disturb their dreams or trouble their minds.
    Snowbone learned these things from Barkbelly, the galley boy from the
Hope.
    Barkbelly was special. All the other sailors on the
Hope
— those who hadn't been killed in the fighting—had been taken prisoner.