Free Urchin and the Raven War by M. I. McAllister Page A

this island!”
    “And so will I!” called Corr as he ran to her side.
    The squirrel shrieked, dropped the branch, and picked it up again. It was bigger than she was.
    “Who on all the island are you?” she demanded, raising the branch.
    Corr looked from one side to the other, and finally up at the sky.
    “I thought you were fighting ravens,” he said. “I can’t see anyone.”
    The squirrel glared at him. “I was practicing,” she snapped.
    “Practicing?” repeated Corr.
    She gave a little twist to her face and wriggled her shoulders.
    “It’s very important to practice,” she said crossly. “You have to be able to react if you’re attacked.”
    Her self-importance made him want to laugh. “Do you attack each other much here?” he asked.
    “I’m talking about enemies,” she said, sounding very superior. “Real enemies. It’s no good waiting for them to turn up and then realizing you don’t know what to do.”
    Corr glanced around in case any other animals were nearby. If this squirrel belonged to a family as big as his own, there could be any number of them like this—but he saw only a male hedgehog, who smiled brightly, waved a paw, and appeared to ignore them.
    “Are all the squirrels around here like you?” he asked.
    She put her head on one side. “Not exactly,” she said. “It depends on what you mean.”
    “I mean, bossy,” said Corr.
    The squirrel’s ears twitched. Her eyes flashed.
    “Bossy!” she repeated.
    “Well, you—”
    “Just go away, can’t you!” She threw away the branch and turned her back on him to kick the tree.
    Corr shrugged. If she felt like that, he may as well go and explore a bit farther, and maybe have a chat with that hedgehog who’d just given him a friendly wave. He’d leave the squirrel to throw a tantrum at her imaginary ravens. A few hedgehogs and squirrels came past, picking berries, playing games, and carrying birch-bark boats, and he was soon chatting with them. They told him that this was Curlingshell Bay, and the hedgehog he’d seen was called Brindle, and invited him to go with them to sail their boats in rock pools. (He didn’t tell them that he’d just had an argument with that squirrel, in case she was a friend of theirs.) But as the boats floated along, it didn’t look as if anything exciting would happen. Nobody fell into the pond, so there was no chance of a brave rescue. The biggest adventure he’d had today was a row with that bossy little squirrel. Now he came to think of it, that had been fun.
    It was getting late, so he’d stay the night here. He’d catch some fish, and look about for strong reeds and sticky sap for patching up the boat. He was on his way back to the shore when he heard a sort of squeaking from behind a gorse bush. It might be none of his business, but he couldn’t help taking a look.
    It was that squirrel again! But she wasn’t angry now. This time she was curled up, holding her tail in both paws and crying quietly. Corr knelt down beside her. She dried her eyes on her tail.
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
    “Go away,” she said, but he didn’t because she might not mean it.
    “You said I was bossy,” she said with a sniff.
    “Sorry,” he said again.
    She finished drying her eyes. “I don’t mean to be bossy,” she said.
    “Of course you don’t,” said Corr. She was probably born that way and couldn’t help it, and he shouldn’t have teased her. “It was really good, the way you ran down that tree.”
    She shrugged modestly.
    “You don’t live here, do you?” she said.
    He told her about his journey, and his aim to go to the tower at last. He left out the bit about wanting adventures, in case she laughed at him.
    “What’s your name?” she asked.
    “Corr,” he said.
    “I’m Lapwing,” said the squirrel. “Are you staying here long?”
    “I want to go on in the morning,” he said, “but my boat needs patching up first.”
    “Can I help?” she