The Mistmantle Chronicles
Book One
First published by Bloomsbury Publishing, 2005.
Now published by Purple House Press.
ISBN 9781948959230, 293 pages, 6 x 9 inch paperback.
On a night of riding stars, a tiny squirrel is found abandoned and close to death on a distant beach. Adopted and raised by a kindly, eccentric squirrel, Urchin has no idea of his powerful destiny or of the way he will influence the island of Mistmantle.
The rule of the good King Brushen and Queen Spindle is threatened by an evil plot from within the court. When a murder is committed, the isle is thrown into turmoil. Behind the scenes, the wicked Lord Husk and Lady Aspen are determined to take control. But to underestimate the power of the islanders and the ancient prophecies is a big mistake…
Triumphant heroes and brilliantly wicked villains do battle in this heart-stopping adventure in the great tradition of Watership Down and The Wind in the Willows.
Glorious new illustrations by Christine Enright capture the spirit of Urchin, and the world of Mistmantle.
Praise for Urchin of the Riding Stars
“A wonderful fantasy with heart and heroism.”
—Rick Riordan
“It’s hard not to root for little Urchin and his friends when evil threatens to ruin their beautiful world.”
—Washington Post
“A spell-binding, anthropomorphic epic”
—Publishing News
“From the first few pages McAllister sucks the reader in… With characters who spring off the page and a well-told story.”
—Yorkshire Post
Winner of the Heidelberg Leander 2005
Shortlisted for the Ottakar’s Children’s Book Prize
Read an extract
Chapter I
From the highest point of Watchtop Hill, Urchin could see the whole island. For days, squirrels and hedgehogs had dragged rough branches up this hill. Their bonfire was ready to light now, stacked up so high that Urchin knew he had to climb it. He was old enough to manage it, and young enough to want to. Springing swiftly from one branch to the next, twirling his tail to balance himself, he reached the very top, gripped with his hind claws and dusted moss from his fur. He was still as pale as honey, with the red-squirrel colour only at the tips of his ears and tail. When he straightened up, shook his ears and looked out over Mistmantle, he felt he was lord of the island.
Tonight would be a night of riding stars. The animals would gather here as the air turned cool, light the bonfire, watch the stars swirl and dance through the darkening sky, and guess at what great things would happen next.
Anemone Wood spread out below him to the south, with a first touch of autumn turning the leaves to crisp gold. Further away, on the shore, otters chased each other in play. A line of small rowing boats bobbed on the water. Urchin could never understand why otters were so fond of boats, when they all swam so powerfully. Maybe they just liked anything to do with water.
A tall ship was moored by the jetty, with its sails furled and its painted figurehead gleaming with colour in the sunshine. A working party of squirrels and otters had been lined up to unload it, passing crate after crate along the line. Urchin guessed at what might be in those crates. Wool for cloaks, maybe, paint for the workshops, or rare wine for King Brushen’s cellars? Tomorrow he would be down there, doing real, grown-up work, helping to load the ship with timber.
He didn’t really want to think about tomorrow. Balancing and curling his hind claws he turned a little further to gaze far over the treetops to Mistmantle Tower, and his heart stretched out to it.
The tower was the place he longed for. On a high outcrop of rock, gleaming in shell-pink, white and pale sandstone-yellow that was almost gold, Mistmantle Tower rose like a statue to the sky. From a turret, a pennant fluttered in the breeze. A young female squirrel was hopping up the steps carrying something in a basket, and the moles on guard stood back to let her in. She might be on of the queen’s attendants. Urchin envied her. He even envied the kitchen mole who appeared at a low window and threw dirty water into a drain. From the King in the Throne Rooms to the kitchen table in the scullery, life in the tower must be wonderful.