The Salt Krasnals Read online

  The Salt Krasnals

  Baba Jaga’s Forest

  Richard Monte

  The Salt Krasnals

  copyright © Richard Monte 2013

  www.richardmonte.co.uk

  Illustrations and Cover Design

  copyright © Paulina P. Nowacka 2013

  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, electrical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of the author.

  The Salt House

  Deep inside a salt mine the walls of a mushroom-shaped house shuddered and shook violently. One of its owners, small, bulbous-nosed, with a long brown beard and hairy ears, failed to catch a breakfast plate as it slid from a pile and shattered on the floor.

  “This is too much!” he moaned, grovelling around in the crumbs and trying to collect the broken pieces.

  Yesterday evening his favourite mug had slipped off a hook in the cupboard. The day before a picture in the living room had fallen from the wall. It was all becoming a bit tiresome. The little creature dusted off his red and white checked waistcoat and straw slippers, feeling rather unwell at the thought of these constant interruptions to his life. Goodness, how he longed for a bit of peace and quiet!

  The house itself seemed a snug, cosy, inviting place with salt walls and floors and a salt fireplace which shone like marble. The doors, window frames and various other items of furniture, including two double bunk beds in a bedroom upstairs and a fungus-like table with four chairs in the living room, were carved from pine wood. Outside the front door, behind a little wooden gate, was a garden of pretty salt flowers, their petals cast in the shape of bluebells and forget-me-nots.

  Far away a dull thud echoed through the winding passages of the mine and shook the foundations of the salt house once more. Pots and pans rattled and the yellow flame in the oil lamp started to dance. The frightened krasnal cowered under the kitchen table listening to the sound of his heart, which seemed to beat in time with the thunderous booms coming from further along the tunnels.

  “Why is life so difficult?” he grumbled, creeping out from under the table, only to find the back door had come loose on its hinges.

  The krasnals used it to climb up through the hills and out into the big, noisy, scary world, above. They often needed to collect wood for the fire and food to stock the larder. There was no doubting the importance of the door, but that didn’t mean he liked using it much – the steps winding up through the rock were really claustrophobic.

  The little krasnal had barely begun to tighten the bolts in the hinge, when he heard the front door of the house click shut.

  “Gappek? Anyone home?” a voice called out.

  Gappek dropped his tools and scurried off to the hallway, like a small underground animal. He was excited and annoyed at the same time.

  “Keep your voice down, or you’ll wake him upstairs and then we’ll both be for it!”

  The krasnal at the front door was rather rounder and plumper than his brother. He had red cheeks and a fringe of yellow straw-coloured hair which extended all the way from the top of his head, below his ears and down his chin. It was broken only by a string of white teeth and a broad smile.

  “Still in bed is he? Lazy devil!”

  “His leg’s aching. It’s the frosty weather. He says he can feel the cold seeping into the mine.”

  “Well, it won’t be like this forever? When it gets warmer, he’ll have to stop snoring his way through the mornings!” exclaimed the younger brother trying hard to keep his voice down.

  He was struggling to take his black leather boots off, which were a size too small.

  Gappek had already disappeared into the living room.

  “Where have you been Bulbek?” he called out.

  Bulbek, still wrestling with his boots, hissed,

  “I think I’ve discovered something important.”

  “I’ll put the kettle on,” said Gappek, scuttling off to the kitchen to find some ginger tea.

  Bulbek sighed. His brother was impossible. Why couldn’t he just sit still for a moment?

  “I’ve found a secret passage, beyond the salt lake, within the forest of roots,” explained Bulbek, as his brother reached for a teapot.

  “I followed it all the way to Skarbnik’s palace,” he continued.

  “You think she’s staying with Skarbnik?” said Gappek, grating some ginger into a pot.

  “You’re missing the point. Skarbnik has eyes and ears all over this mine. He knows what creatures crawl through its tunnels and passages, from those cumbersome giants to a krasnal as small as our sister. He knows where they go, whether they leave and what happens to them.”

  “So why didn’t you interrogate him when you went to his palace?” asked Gappek.

  “He was too busy playing cards,” replied Bulbek.

  “But his daughter promised me he’d meet us tomorrow morning if it’s urgent and we bring along a pot of our best blackberry jam for his second breakfast.”

  “A pot of our best blackberry jam! You must be joking!” exclaimed Gappek.

  “Look, do you want to find our sister or not? Surely she’s worth more than a pot of blackberry jam!”

  Gappek recalled the hours he had spent sieving the blackberries with his own hands.

  “But our best blackberry jam! Isn’t there any other way?”

  “I’m afraid not. You should be grateful that Skarbnik has agreed to help us at all,” snapped Bulbek.

  Gappek thought about his older brother asleep upstairs and pointing a thumb upwards, muttered,

  “Well, he isn’t going to like this you know…”

  Hrapek Snores On

  Winding stairs inside the salt house led to a bedroom, where the eldest brother, Hrapek, was at that very moment fast asleep nursing his aching limbs. He was lying on his side with one arm dangling over the bunk, a mop of greying hair sticking up out of the covers. He occupied the bottom bed, beneath Bulbek, because he claimed he no longer had the strength to climb the little wooden ladder to the top. When the others teased him, he always told them,

  “Don’t forget brothers, I was once like you. Oh yes, there was a day when old Hrapek could skip up a mountain as quickly as any fresh born krasnal.”

  Nowadays he slept more and more and if his rest was disturbed he became petulant and bad-tempered. Pity anyone who dared wake Hrapek. And this dilemma was what faced the two krasnals standing outside the bedroom at that moment. Should they leave him in the land of nod and go to Skarbnik alone, which would surely irritate their elder brother, or wake him and face a storm?

  “Don’t you remember the last time?” hissed Gappek.

  “What the day of the flood?”

  “Yes, and that was an emergency!”

  What a disastrous year it had been. Heavy mountain rains had made the rivers swell and water seep though the rock into the mine. The ground floor of the salt house had flooded and Hrapek sleeping soundly upstairs would have known little about it if his brothers hadn’t decided to wake him.

  “A little rain won’t harm anyone, but to deny someone of their sleep is a sin!” he had cried.

  Of course once his temper had abated, Hrapek got down to work, bailing out the water with pans and then drying everything up. But he had been in a bad mood for weeks after that.

  Gappek and Bulbek peered round the half-open door and looked apprehensively at the sleeping krasnal. The hairs beneath his nose were twitching contentedly as he breathed in and out. There was no doubt about it, Hrapek was in a deep slumber and any attempt to wake him directly might prove regretful. Bulbek pulled Gappek’s arm.

  “Come on, I’
ve got a better idea,” he whispered.

  Downstairs they found some pans and a pair of bellows.

  “He’ll never know where it is coming from,” said Bulbek as they struck up a tune like an ensemble. Gappek puffing in and out on the bellows, with Bulbek bashing the iron pans against the salt walls, making a thunderous sound. After a couple of minutes they stopped. There was movement upstairs!

  Dishevelled, bleary-eyed and hobbling like an old goat, Hrapek emerged at the door of the lounge in his dressing gown, where his two brothers were sitting peacefully by the fire.

  “Did you hear that devilish racket?”

  “Probably some miners working nearby,” said Bulbek.

  “It’s not the same living here any more. No wonder Malinka left,” grumbled Hrapek.

  “Quite,” said Bulbek. “Sit down brother. You look awful.”

  Hrapek’s knees creaked as he plunged into his chair, causing the old krasnal to complain bitterly about the cold, damp salt mine, once more.

  “I can’t blame our sister for wanting to move. I imagine she’s sitting pretty in a nice warm cottage in a forest up above us, where the walls are tinder dry and the windows open to let dry gusty breezes refresh the air. It gets so stuffy here.”

  “Well that’s what we wanted to talk to you about,” said Bulbek. “We’re going to find Malinka.”

  Hrapek wheezed a throaty laugh.

  “Nonsense! She could be anywhere. At the top of an acorn tree or in a deserted rabbit’s warren. She might even have been eaten by wolves!”

  “Now that’s enough of that. We are going to find her and if you had any sense you’d come with us,” said Gappek, annoyed at his brother’s remarks.

  “It’s ridiculous. Where would we start? The world’s a big place you know,” moaned Hrapek.

  “If anyone knows where to look for her it is the underground ghost,” said Bulbek eagerly.

  “Skarbnik! I’m not getting involved with that cantankerous old pipe-smoker!” exploded Hrapek again.

  The krasnals never had much to do with Skarbnik and they guessed if you kept yourself to yourself, the underground lord would let them be. He was usually on the look out for troublemakers and it was rumoured that once or twice he’d dealt with a few of those greedy human miners.

  “But we have no choice. We need some clue as to Malinka’s whereabouts before we venture outside,” insisted Gappek.

  Hrapek was as firm as ever. “I’m not leaving this salt house!”

  Nothing could convince Hrapek. Even if the salt mine was a bit damp at times, it was better to stay put than follow his reckless sister.

  “This is my home and I’m not leaving!”

  Gappek and Bulbek shook their heads. Stubborn old krasnal.

  Breakfast with Skarbnik

  At the end of one of the longest salt tunnels stood a palace carved entirely from rock salt, with green-domed towers, arches and pointed windows. But even more breath-taking was what you could see inside. Vast rooms with dazzling chandeliers made from salt crystals. Light flickering over paintings which came alive when you gazed upon them. The great ghostly treasurer, Skarbnik, lived in a sumptuous residence hidden away deep within the mine. Only the brave visited him or those in desperate need. Others were summoned for their misdeeds or to challenge him at cards. It was well known that Skarbnik loved nothing better than to play dice at the round oak wood table in the room with the black and yellow chequered floor.

  Behind the card room was a library lined not only with books, but home to cupboards full of drawers. Here he collected the precious gems which he often found upon his travels through the mine. His kitchen, big enough to feed a giant, was crammed full of wine caskets, bread baskets, jars of herbs and spices. Everyone knew his favourite meal was ‘second breakfast’ and pity anyone who dared interfere with that! Skarbnik was a tall giant of a ghost, with wispy white hair tied into a pony tail and a long pointed beard that made him look like a genie from the east. He had many treasures, but nothing was as precious as his beloved daughter, the White Lady.

  The two krasnals scurried along a narrow candlelit passage carrying a pot of their best jam and found themselves standing at the gate of Skarbnik’s palace. Bulbek had seen everything before and was eager to get inside, but Gappek held back, pulling his brother’s arm.

  “Wait, I’m not sure we should be doing this. It’s awfully big. Look the towers are almost touching the roof of the mine!”

  Bulbek was already through the gate and beating his little fist on the palace door which opened by itself. Gappek felt nervous as he stepped inside. They were in a great hall, whose lofty white walls made them look like two little old men with beards and breeches. A white mist descended from a staircase that joined the upper floors. Gappek watched in amazement as the haze took on the shape of a beautiful woman with long flowing dark hair and ebony coloured eyes. He knew this had to be Skarbnik’s daughter, but before he could ask, Bulbek stepped forward to greet her.

  “Good morning my lady. This is my brother, Gappek. We have come to join your father at breakfast.”

  “I thought there were three of you?” Her voice was as shrill as a bird and chilly like the night air. Gappek felt her coldness seeping into his heart and it made him uncomfortable.

  “Our brother could not come. He is unwell,” replied Bulbek quickly.

  The White Lady looked at him for a moment; a glance so piercing that he thought she would see through this lie, but she only waved her hand and beckoned them down the candle-lit corridor towards the door of the kitchen.

  The two krasnals could detect the aroma of freshly baked bread. They winked at each other and wriggled their noses.

  Skarbnik sat at a large rectangular table. If it hadn’t been for the crusty loaf sitting in the middle, Gappek might not have entered the kitchen. The ghost was smoking a long pipe and they watched as enormous rings wafted up towards the ceiling.

  “Come in my little friends. I have been waiting for you.”

  He looked at them dubiously. “I see three has turned into two…”

  “One of us couldn’t come, I’m afraid. Not feeling too well…” said Bulbek handing the pot of jam to the treasurer.

  “Pity. I laid out four places for breakfast. Still I’m glad to see you have brought the blackberry jam! I hope you’re both hungry. I’ve baked some fresh bread…Well, what are you waiting for? Before we discuss anything I suggest we boost our energy. Climb up onto the table and help yourselves!”

  Gappek and Bulbek didn’t need any more encouragement. Soon the only sounds in the kitchen were the chomping of their teeth and the steady puffing of the ghost as he drew upon his pipe.

  The hunks of fresh bread with the blackberry jam were so delicious that it wasn’t long before the krasnals were feeling rather tight around the waist. Bulbek undid the buttons of his waistcoat, while Gappek lay on his back and looked up at the curved ceiling of the kitchen. It was pale blue and with Skarbnik’s smoke rings now turning into white fluffy clouds, Gappek felt for a moment that he was out in the world above. Skarbnik looked down at the two creatures lying on his table and said wryly,

  “You’ve made quick work of that pot! I hope you’ll bring me another when you come here again.”

  Gappek didn’t like the sound of that, but there wasn’t a chance to say anything before Skarbnik continued,

  “Now, I understand you have lost your sister and would like me to help you.”

  He stopped, put down his pipe and watched as the two krasnals struggled to sit up.

  “She left home a while ago and went out into the big world above…” began Gappek bravely, then losing his confidence in the presence of the great treasurer, stuttered, “and… and we never saw her again.”

  “We don’t know where to start looking for her,” Bulbek continued.

  “Surely she must have said something about her intentions,” mused Skarbnik.

  “Ever since the giants discovered this mine, it has become very noisy. They pound t
he rock day in and day out. There are cracks in the walls of our salt house. We hardly dare go out for fear of bumping into them with their pick axes,” explained Gappek.

  “Our sister dreamed of finding a more peaceful place to live.”

  “And I suppose you both think she has found some peace in the world above us.”

  “Well, it has got to be better than this,” replied Bulbek not really knowing what to say.

  “And have you experienced much of this world yourselves?” continued the ghost in the same manner.

  “We go up there now and then to replenish our supplies. It can get a bit windy and cold in the hills, but I bet Malinka has found somewhere nice and dry to live,” said Bulbek, rather pleased with his reply.

  Skarbnik raised an eyebrow.

  “Have you heard of the White Forest?” he asked.

  “Heard of it, why yes. It is a forest somewhere near that city which the giants call Krakow, I think. Isn’t that right Gappek?” answered Bulbek, glancing across at his brother.

  “Why do you ask?” whispered Gappek suspiciously. “I have heard it is ruled by the evil witch, Baba Jaga.”

  “There are no nice dry places in that forest. There is no peace either. Baba Jaga brews up terrible storms so the creatures who live there can never escape. When they try to leave she covers their tracks in thick snow. Some reckon they have seen storms as far away as Krakow in summer,” explained Skarbnik.

  “But what has this to do with Malinka?” asked Gappek, losing track.

  “Now, listen carefully my little krasnals. Your sister was last seen near the edges of this forest at the end of the summer,” the smile disappeared from Skarbnik’s face as he spoke.

  Gappek pulled nervously on his pointy brown beard, while Bulbek tugged at his yellow fringe. The news was not exactly what they had wanted to hear. The thought that Malinka might now be in this terrible place filled them both with dread. They wanted to rescue their sister as quickly as possible, but deep inside something was telling them things might not be so simple.