William Nicholson - The Wind Singer

Praise for THE WIND SINGER

Winner of the Smarties Prize Gold Award and the Blue Peter Book Award

‘This is a truly extraordinary book that will haunt you’

Daily Telegraph

‘Positively surreal imagery, a fast-moving adventure and a cutting satire all in one. An original and striking read’

Melvin Burgess

‘. . . A gripping read . . . A beautifully narrated, warm thriller of a book, full of inventiveness, action and passion’

Guardian

‘A lyrical, evocative and powerful story’

Kate Agnew

‘. . . A truly imaginative, fantastical and distinctive adventure story that grips from the very beginning and absolutely refuses to let go’

Amazon

‘An accesible, rebellious and fast-paced adventure, and, as you would expect from the author of Shadow lands, a heart-wringing celebration of love’

Sunday Times

‘. . . A potent mix of thundering adventure and purposeful fantasy’

Guardian

‘A page-turning quest adventure that crackles off the page’

Books Magazine

‘. . . A story that delves deeper into human nature and relationships’

Bookseller

Books by William Nicholson

The Wind on Fire Trilogy

The Wind Singer Slaves of the Mastery Firesong

The Noble Warriors Trilogy

SeekerJango Noman

For older readers

Rich and Mad

First published in Great Britain 2000

This edition published 2011

by Egmont UK Limited

239 Kensington High Street

London W8 6SA

Text copyright © 2000 William Nicholson

The moral rights of the author have been asserted

ISBN 978 1 4052 3969 1

eBook ISBN 978 1 7803 1210 1

www.egmont.co.uk

www.williamnicholson.co.uk

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system,Or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher and copyright owner

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Contents

Long ago Long ago At the time the strangers came, the Manth people were still living in the low mat-walled shelters that they had carried with them in their hunting days. The domed huts were clustered around the salt mine that was to become the source of their wealth. This was long before they had built the great city that stands above the salt caverns today. One high summer afternoon, a band of travellers came striding out of the desert plains, and made camp nearby. They wore their hair long and loose, men and women alike, and moved slowly and spoke quietly, when they spoke at all. They traded a little with the Manth, buying bread and meat and salt, paying with small silver ornaments that they themselves had made. They caused no trouble, but their near presence was somehow uncomfortable. Who were they? Where had they come from? Where were they going? Direct questions produced no answers: only a smile, a shrug, a shake of the head. Then the strangers were seen to be at work, building a tower. Slowly a wooden structure took shape, a platform higher than a man, on which they constructed a second narrower tower, out of timber beams and metal pipes. These pipes were all of different sizes, and bundled together, like the pipes of an organ. At their base, they opened out into a ring of metal horns. At their upper end, they funnelled together to form a single cylinder, like a neck, and then fanned out again to end in a ring of large leather scoops. When the wind blew, the scoops caught it and the entire upper structure rotated, swinging round to face the strongest gusts. The swirling air was funnelled through the neck to the ranked pipes, to emerge from the horns as a series of meaningless sounds. The tower had no obvious purpose of any kind. For a while it was a curiosity, and the people would stare at it as it creaked this way and that. When the wind blew hard, it made a mournful moaning that was comical at first, but soon became tiresome. The silent travellers offered no explanation. It seemed they had come to the settlement with the sole purpose of building this odd structure, because when it was done, they rolled up their tents and prepared to move on. Before leaving, their leader took out a small silver object, and climbed the tower, and inserted it into a slot in the structure’s neck. It was a tranquil summer dawn, the day the travellers departed, and the air was still. The metal pipes and horns were silent as they strode away across the desert plains. The Manth people were left as baffled as when they had arrived, staring at the overgrown scarecrow they had left behind. That night, as they slept, the wind began to blow, and a new sound entered their lives. They heard it in their sleep, and woke smiling, without knowing why. They gathered in the warm night air, and listened in joy and wonder. The wind singer was singing.

1 Baby Pinpin makes her mark

2 Kestrel makes a horrible friend

3 Bad words said loud

4 Practising for Maroon

5 A warning from the Chief Examiner

6 Special Teaching

7 The Emperor weeps

8 The Hath family shamed

9 Escape from Aramanth

10 In the salt caves

11 The mudnut harvest

12 A Queen remembers

13 The Hath family punished

14 Return of the old children

15 Prisoners of Ombaraka

16 The wind battle

17 The Hath family fights back

18 Crack-in-the-land

19 Mumpo goes wrong

20 Into the fire

21 The march of the Zars

22 The Hath family broken

23 The Scourge of the Plains

24 The last High Examination

Long ago

At the time the strangers came, the Manth people were still living in the low mat-walled shelters that they had carried with them in their hunting days. The domed huts were clustered around the salt mine that was to become the source of their wealth. This was long before they had built the great city that stands above the salt caverns today. One high summer afternoon, a band of travellers came striding out of the desert plains, and made camp nearby. They wore their hair long and loose, men and women alike, and moved slowly and spoke quietly, when they spoke at all. They traded a little with the Manth, buying bread and meat and salt, paying with small silver ornaments that they themselves had made. They caused no trouble, but their near presence was somehow uncomfortable. Who were they? Where had they come from? Where were they going? Direct questions produced no answers: only a smile, a shrug, a shake of the head.