The Power of the Wildening, page 1
Where there is no light, darkness grows.
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
What Happened Before
1. The Journey Home
2. Decoy
3. What Else is Here?
4. The Camp
5. A New Plan
6. Following the Trail
7. Summoning
8. The Deepest Roots
9. The Skraw
10. Safety
11. A Goodbye
12. A Vehicle
13. Leaving the Camp
14. Prey
15. A Sense of Direction
16. The Last Stretch
17. Pajoba
18. Left Out
19. Someone Special
20. The Flemble Ceremony
21. Return of the Skraw
22. Chickens!
23. The Steal
24. A Warning
25. The Shore
26. An Alternative Plan
27. The Take Off
28. Setting Sail
29. An Unlikely Summon
30. An Empty Map
31. A Dangerous Tune
32. The Last Temple
33. Senba
34. Buried Secrets
35. Too Much Flember
36. The End of the Deadlands
37. Battle Lines
38. The Last Stand
39. Heart Surgery
40. Second Breakfast
Also by Jamie Smart
Copyright
What Happened Before
After discovering a secret book all about flember, Dev P. Everdew’s experiments with the mysterious power threw his village into chaos, but they also gave him Boja – a huge, red robot bear of his own invention, magically brought to life! And while Dev could restore most of the flember he’d accidentally taken for Boja, there was one thing he couldn’t fix – the Eden Tree. The most beloved tree in his village remained dead, its flember now running through Boja’s circuitry. And the only way Dev could think to fix it … was to find more flember!
So, he and Boja set out across the mysterious Flember Island. They were guided by the glowing map hidden inside the pages of the flember book, which showed where they might find the source of all flember … the Flember Stream! Their journey, however, was not an easy one. First, they had to make their way through the dark, dangerous forests known as the Wildening, eventually coming across the small mining town of Darkwater.
And Darkwater was a very harsh place to live. After causing chaos with Boja’s explosive farts, Dev and his bear finally brought the town together, but they left unable to find enough flember there. So they headed to the next point on Dev’s map. A bright, modern city called Prosperity. Here they discovered a society of people divided by flember, forced to fight amongst themselves for a chance at equality.
But Dev, Boja and Dev’s brother, Santoro, managed to defeat Prosperity’s extraordinary flember-fuelled technologies and help make it a fairer place to live.
As a reward, Boja was permitted to take a little extra flember, just enough to revive the Eden Tree. Dev also learnt that it was Dev and Santoro’s father, Bartleby, who wrote the flember book!
With this revelation fresh in their minds, along with an awful lot of questions, Dev and Boja are now keen to head back through the Wildening.
To make their way home.
To heal the Eden Tree and restore the balance of flember once and for all.
1
The Journey Home
Santoro hacked through another thick clump of leaves with his sword.
‘Dev, be serious for a moment,’ he puffed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. ‘Do you really think that your armour’s going to protect you out here?’
Dev stumbled out from behind his brother, skidding slightly in the mossy mud. He picked at the armour he was wearing. It did look a little cobbled together since he had, literally, cobbled his broken armour back together. He’d hammered out the dents, replaced the flemberthyst crystals, then strung it all around his arms and legs with thin lengths of blackrock cord.
But still, he beamed proudly. ‘I fixed it up as best I could,’ he replied, rapping his knuckles against his chest. The chestplate slipped from its buckles and FLOMP-ed down into the mud. Dev sheepishly picked it up and wedged it back into place.
Santoro frowned. He gripped his brother tightly by the crumpled shoulder guards. ‘Dev, it’s dangerous out here,’ he whispered. ‘Your inventions and your … your fix-ups won’t keep you safe for long. You could have chosen proper armour from Prosperity, well-made armour, like mine …’ Santoro took a deep breath. His fine, smart, flemberthyst-studded armour glistened magnificently in the early morning sunlight. ‘But you didn’t. So, instead, if we’re going to survive in the Wildening, then I think maybe I should teach you how to defend yourself.’
‘Fighting?’ Dev shivered at the thought of it. ‘Oh, no, that’s your thing, Santoro, that’s not for me. I use my head; I come up with ideas! I can invent anything with the help of my Tinkering Helmet!’
He cheerfully tugged on the chinstraps of his helmet. The two cat ears slid apart, and a cluster of broken, spindly metal rods unfolded, a fizzing lightbulb plink-plink-plinking between them.
Sparks flew.
Water trickled.
Something banged.
Santoro sighed loudly.
‘Oh, I meant to fix that,’ Dev muttered. Then a broad smile spread across his face. ‘Anyway, we’ll always be safe, as long as we have BOJA with us!’
He turned, hoping to see the big red bear behind them.
But there was no one there.
‘Boja?’ Dev called out hopefully. He peered through the rustling leaves, the winding bracken, the hefty, moss-spattered tree trunks.
His heart pounded a little faster.
‘Boja?’ he called again. ‘BOJA, WHERE ARE—’
‘HWU-U-U-U-U-U-URPPPPP!’ something belched out from the shadows. A waft of smells floated across the Wildening around them, smells so sweet, so sugary, they made Dev’s eyes twitch.
Then a huge, lumbering shape staggered out.
It glowed, and crackled, and sparkled with flember.
‘Soh-rry.’ Boja giggled, lifting a paw to wipe the trail of foody-spit from his mouth. In his other arm he carried the most precious of cargoes; an array of cakes he had grabbed before they left Prosperity. He scooped another splodge of glittery cream into his mouth and let out another joyful belch.
His flember glowed a little brighter.
‘Boja … could … you … focus?’ Santoro huffed, poking Boja in the belly on every word. ‘We all need to be alert. Especially you. With all your wooshy, sparkly new powers,’ – Santoro mimed the swish of Boja’s flember gauntlets – ‘we’re going to need you when things get difficult.’
Dev plucked a chilli-frosted doughnut from Boja’s pile and gleefully took a few chomps out of it. ‘Andsch youff gotsch a lot more flember now,’ he spluttered between chews before gulping a mouthful down. ‘All the extra you took from Prosperity. You need to protect that flember until we can get you back to Eden!’
‘O-K,’ Boja mumbled, sadly.
‘Don’t worry, we’ll be home before you know it.’ Dev smiled. He popped the last clump of doughnut into his mouth, hauled the backpack from his shoulders, undid the buckles, reached inside, and pulled out the flember book. Dev spread the pages out, and gazed in delight at the hidden map now glowing across them.
‘Dad’s book will lead us there.’
‘I’m still not sure Dad wrote that book,’ Santoro sighed, hacking at more leaves with his sword.
‘But … but Santoro, our dad was the Second Pioneer! The one who discovered all of Flember Island’s secrets!’ Dev exclaimed. ‘When we get home we’ll ask Mum. She’ll tell us it’s true. She’ll tell us all about him.’
Suddenly he noticed a clump of weird, pillowy pink flowers. ‘I recognize these,’ he muttered, flipping to the back of the flember book to a collection of slightly cleaner looking pages. ‘Brianne let me take some of Dad’s notes from Prosperity, where he had been sketching all the weird stuff that grows in the Wildening … FIZZLEPLOPS!’ he cried at the page he was looking for. ‘These flowers are called fizzleplops!’
Dev crouched down, and gently poked the petals.
‘Oh, no, hang on, it says I shouldn’t poke it.’
Suddenly – with a loud F-Z-Z-Z-Z-Z! – the fizzleplop exploded into a plume of pink sparkles. Dev coughed, and he spluttered, and then, with an almost audible DING, an idea bubbled up into his brain.
‘Maybe we could wrap the fizzleplops up, enclose them in some kind of casing …’ He closed his book, slid it into his backpack, then slowly, carefully, plucked a fizzleplop up by its stalk. Then he wrapped a thick green leaf around it. ‘So if we ever lose sight of each other, we can fire them into the sky! Like FLARES! FIZZING FLARES!’
He leant down to pick another, only for it to suddenly F-Z-Z-Z-Z-Z in Dev’s hands.
‘ARGH!’ Dev yelped in surprise, dropping it into the other fizzleplops, which WOOSH-ed and FRRRPPP-ed into a huge bubbling explosion of pink lights. Dev stumbled backwards. His boots slipped from beneath him. With a muffled ‘OOF!’ he slammed into Boja’s soft belly which, in turn, knocked Boja off his balance. Cream-frosted nipperknockles, glazed chiplets, and half a pound of whipped clophooves flew from Boja’s arms, sailing up into the air before falling SPLAT! SPLOT! SPLOTCH! down on to the ground.
‘CAKES!’ the bear yelped, throwing himself on to all fours as his huge pink tongue slid along the ground. It slurped up dollops of cream and sponge, and a good clump of dirt and twigs along with it, as he zigzagged a trail into the taller grass.
‘Boja, be careful,’ Santoro shouted.
‘MY BREAKFASCHT!’ Boja chomped, spotting another of his escaped cakes. A glazed chiplet thoroughly splatted into the soil. With a loud SLURP his tongue scooped it, and a large wodge of mud, up into his mouth.
He chewed with noisy glee.
And then he stopped, his cheeks still bulging.
‘Whasschat?’ he belched.
Dev froze too. He could hear it.
Something was growling.
He hoped at first it might be Boja’s belly, hungry for a second round of mud-soaked cakes, but then he saw movement through the tall grass. It looked like a shadow. The jagged black spikes of its back slinked up and down. Its head lifted, its muzzle bunched into a snarl, its lips quivered open to reveal two rows of sharp, pointed teeth.
Its red, glowing eyes were trained upon Boja.
‘A dark wolf!’ Dev whispered. His blood ran cold. He could feel the scratches upon his arm, the bite marks, start to throb.
‘There’ll be another,’ Santoro hissed. His armour was already lighting up, its flemberthysts blazing as he clutched his sword in both hands. ‘There’s always more than one.’
As if summoned, another dark wolf emerged from between the trees. It flanked Boja from the other side. Boja, now realizing he was surrounded, gulped down his muddy chiplet. Then his face scrunched into a look of defiance. The flember crackling across his fur started to blaze. It writhed around him in wide glowing arcs, before snaking down his arms, circling around his fists like a pair of huge sparkling gauntlets.
Boja looked fierce.
He looked incredible.
‘Two dark wolves will be no match for us this time!’ Dev said, only to catch sight of more movement. More dark, cruel, jagged, shapes slinking through the long grass. One after the other, after the other.
‘A whole pack of them, though,’ Santoro snarled, watching the dark wolves circle Boja as if he were a cream-frosted nipperknockle. ‘That could be more difficult.’
2
Decoy
Dev’s arm throbbed down into the bones. His head started to swim. His legs trembled. The dark wolves did this to him. Somehow, being near them always made him feel weaker.
Boja, however, wasn’t wasting a second.
‘HWOOOOOARGHHH!’ he roared, swinging his bright, sparkling gauntlets back before slamming them down hard into the ground. Everything shook. The wolves scattered. Then they regrouped. Behind him. Around him. Crouched low beneath the long grass. Only the jagged spines along their backs gave them away.
Dev steadied himself. Took a deep breath. Lifted his head. Gradually, his makeshift flember armour started to light up. He took one step, then another, and then, suddenly, in a blaze of crackling flember, he was speeding towards the nearest wolf. It turned, opening its jaws wide and chomped onto his forearm. Its jagged black teeth buckled the protective plates of his armour but didn’t pierce it. Dev wrenched his arm out, barging his whole weight against the wolf before staggering, flemberthysts blazing, towards the next.
‘MINE!’ Santoro had already marked this wolf. He skidded past Dev, then lunged with his sword.
CHI-I-I-I-I-INGGG! It threw out sparks from the wolf’s neck, carving barely a scratch against its thick black skin.
Dev and Santoro both stared at each other in disbelief.
‘It’s like they’re made of blackrock,’ Dev cried. ‘And blackrock’s too strong! Too solid to break! Even flember can’t pass through it!’
Santoro let out an exasperated gasp. ‘Then how do we fight them, Dev? How do we BEAT them?’
‘We can’t. But maybe BOJA can! BOJA! LIGHT THEM UP!’
‘HWO-O-O-O-A-A-R-GHHHH!’ Boja roared, even louder than before. The crackles of flember dancing across his fur started to pulse brighter, bigger, before suddenly exploding in a blinding light. It flung a number of dark wolves into the sky. DOOMPF! They fell back into the long grass like hailstones. DOOMPF! DOOMPF! DOOMPF!
Boja’s eyes scrunched into a squint. His glistening teeth ground together. His fur prickled up on end.
‘MY cakes,’ he growled, scooping one more chiplet from the ground and defiantly cramming it into his mouth.
The wolves, however, weren’t scared of him. If anything, they only looked more determined. Again they raced forwards, weaving between Boja’s glowing gauntlets, defying his bright, crackling flember as they threw themselves against him. They clung, and they crawled over his body like bumbleflies across a stinky piece of meat.
‘BOJA, WAIT THERE!’ Dev yelled, as he spun on his heels and ran, not towards the bear, but out from the long grass, up on to the rockier ground, towards the protruding clump of pink fizzleplop flowers. With increasing urgency he grasped a fistful of stalks and yanked them out. The fizzleplops instantly burst into a plume of fizzing, sparkling lights around him.
Then he held them out towards the wolves.
‘Hey! Wolves! If you really want to take a bite out of anyone, I’m a far easier target! My armour’s falling apart, you could chew through it in no time!’
The wolves all looked round, their red eyes glaring at Dev.
‘Dev, what are you doing?’ Santoro yelled, his sword clamped between a dark wolf’s jaws.
Dev’s stomach gurgled.
‘I’m not entirely sure,’ he whimpered. ‘Trying to save Boja?’
Suddenly the wolves leapt from Boja’s back. They dived into the long grass, streamed past the swing of Santoro’s sword, and sped towards Dev.
Dev let out a yelp so high-pitched even he couldn’t hear it.
‘Run,’ he muttered to himself, as if willing his feet to start moving. ‘Run run run run RUN!’
What remained of his flember armour started to crackle once again. Then, with a panicked squawk, Dev was gone. Racing as fast as his legs would carry him through a corridor of tall trees, while a trail of pink sparkling smoke drifted out behind him. Above the sounds of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, he could still hear the wolves. He could hear their paws pounding against the ground. Their snaps. Their howls. Their snarls gurgling in their throats.
‘Faster!’ Dev winced, his last few flemberthysts already shining at their brightest. ‘Faster-r-r-r!’
His legs powered him through the Wildening at speeds he didn’t know he was capable of. Branches whipped against his face. The ground squelched beneath his feet. Then, suddenly, it slipped away completely. Dev found himself skidding down a steep gravel slope, his armour crumpling and tearing as he bounced from one sharp rock to another. He turned his head to see that the dark wolves, too, were hurtling down the slope. Their legs scrambled helplessly as they growled and yelped, slamming against the rocks, rolling between the trees. One by one they disappeared. Falling down into sunken hollows and crevices, slipping between the gaps in the Wildening.
By the time Dev reached flatter ground his armour was in tatters – just a few plates remained. But he didn’t slow down. He kept running across the gravel, as far as he could possibly go.
All the way to the very edge of a cliff, with a wide, pale sky above him, and only tree tops far, far below.
He skidded to a halt. A cold wind hit sharply inside his lungs as he bowed, struggling to catch his breath. ‘I can’t …’ he gasped. His flember armour flickered. ‘I can’t … run any more.’ Slowly, achingly, he turned around. He dropped the smouldering fizzleplops. His body felt drained now, with barely a drop of strength left in it.
But he made himself stand tall, defiant.
Fists clenched.
Heart pounding.
Maybe Santoro’s right,’ he whispered under his breath. ‘Maybe I will have to fight my way out of this one.’
