j2j K EEPER’S C OT TAGE
It was a bright, blustery spring day in the Marram Marshes. The wind had blown away the early-morning mist and was sending small white clouds scudding high across the sky. The air was chilly; it smelled of sea salt, mud and burned cabbage soup. In the doorway of a small stone cottage a gangly boy with long, matted hair was pulling a backpack on to his broad shoulders. Helping him was what appeared to be a voluminous patchwork quilt. “Now, you are sure you know the way?” the patchwork quilt was asking anxiously. The boy nodded and pulled the backpack straight. His brown eyes smiled at the large woman hidden within the folds of the quilt. “I’ve got your map, Aunt Zelda,” he said, pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. “In fact, I have all your maps.” More pieces of paper emerged. “See . . . here’s Snake Ditch to Double Drain. Double Drain to the Doom Sludge Deeps. Doom Sludge Deeps to the Broad Path. Broad Path to the reed beds. Reed beds to the Causeway.” “But from the Causeway to the Port. Do you have that one?” Aunt Zelda’s bright blue, witchy eyes looked anxious.
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05/04/2012 10:56:53