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Outside, two of the crows had escaped, but Spingo had settled for one with her club, and Zaran caught another with her double blade as it tried to flap off skyward. The black otter nodded to the Gonfelin maid.

“Spingo is feeling better, yes?”

She leant on her makeshift club. “Much better, thank ye. How are me da an’ Bisky doin’ in there?”

Zaran shouldered her sword as she walked back to the tunnel. “They fight like warriors. I think it will soon be over in there. Stay here and rest.”

Inside the tunnel, Zaran had not gone far when she saw the pale, flickering light in the gloom. It could be only one thing, a Wyte. The black otter swung her double-bladed sword high, every sinew in her powerful frame tensed. The moment had arrived to avenge the death of her family.

Korvus Skurr was flying low and fast—he did not see the twin blades gleam until too late. Zaran felt the big raven’s talons grip her as she slashed out and thrust into the Doomwyte’s plumage.

Spingo saw them both tumble out into the stream, a wild melee of dark fur and feathers. They plunged into the water, shooting under the surface. The Gonfelin maid hurried to the spot, trying to look into the clouded depths. There was a momentary silence, then Zaran surfaced in a rush of water.

Spingo gasped. “What was that?”

Streamwater swirled red as the otter dragged the bedraggled carcass of the Great Doomwyte up. Zaran released the slain raven; she watched stony-eyed as it floated off with the current. “Now the kinbeasts of Zaran will rest easy!”

Baliss was loose in the big cave. The giant reptile resembled a living nightmare as he roved the sulphurous mists. The huge coils flexed and curled, the hideous head shuddering uncontrollably in the grip of agonised infection. Birds flew high to escape death, reptiles fled everywhere, to crannies and any holes they could find.

With their instinctive fear of adders, the Guosim were almost petrified. The Gonfelin were little better off at being confronted by such a monster.

Bosie seized Nokko and Dubble, shaking them soundly. “Och, ye’ve good reason tae be afeared o’ yon serpent, but don’t just stan’ there tremblin’. Gather yore crews an’ get oot o’ here. Move yersel’s, buckoes!”

Bisky began pushing all and sundry toward the tunnel. “Bosie’s right, no beast could face that thing. Let’s move while we’re still able to. Get going. Now!”

Zaran re-entered the cavern, immediately taking in the scene. She stood with Bosie and Bisky at the tunnel entrance, as the woodlanders hurried by them. Keeping an eye on Baliss, who had started gorging upon the slain, Bosie tried summing the situation up.

“A score o’ warriors’d be nae good against yon beastie. Aye, but once we’re out o’ this place, how d’we stop it comin’ after us?”

Zaran had a suggestion. “Once all your creatures are out of here, could you not block the entrance?”

Bisky shepherded the last of the Guosim out of the cavern. “We could try. I’m sure our moles could look at it, they’re the ones who’d know about such work.”

Trying deliberately to appear casual, Nokko strutted by, entering the tunnel. “Righto, mates, everybeast’s clear now!”

Baliss left off his grisly feast. Hissing and slobbering, he wriggled off to search for water. As the snake’s noise began afresh, Nokko took to his paws and shot off down the tunnel.

Bosie put up his sword. “Ah think yon mousey has the right idea. Let’s be off!”

Whether it was the sound of the retreating woodlanders, or a faint breeze from outside, nobeast could tell. But Baliss turned aside from returning to the rear cave and headed for the tunnel.

37

Spingo ran to join Bisky, splashing through the shallows to meet him. The young Redwaller did not hide his pleasure at seeing her so well and sprightly.

“Hello, mate, yore looking pretty chipper!”

Spingo smiled. “You don’t look too bad yourself. What’s happenin’, did we whack ’em?”

Nokko ruffled his pretty daughter’s ears. “Ye could say that, though there’s still that blinkin’ adder to deal with yet.”

Soilclaw surveyed the tunnel frontage, shaking his velvety head dubiously. “Burr, ee’m mostly ’ard, solid rock, zurr. B’aint a gurt lot us’ns can do abowt that, hurr, nay!”

Gobbo interrupted, “Why can’t ye, yore supposed t’be moles, why can’t youse block up the ’ole, eh?”

Nokko glared at his garrulous son. “Hoi, bucketmouth, give yer gob a rest, or I’ll boot yer tail straight inter that stream!”

Burgy waved a hefty digging claw. “Leave ’im be, zurr, ee young maister got a point. Yurr, Frubb, us’ll take ee lukk further in. Coom on, zurr, may’aps ee can ’elp uz.”

Gobbo was not very taken by the suggestion. “Who, me? No, mate, I don’t know nothin’ about blockin’ tunnels!”

Nokko grabbed him firmly by the ear. “Ho, don’t yer now, seems like yer had enuff t’say about it just now. Well, me son, ye can either go an’ ’elp those good moles in the tunnel, or stay out ’ere with me while I duck yer in the stream. Please yerself, the choice is up to you!”

Dragging his tail, and sticking out his lower lip, Gobbo skulked into the tunnel with Burgy and Frubb. “Huh, wot choice is that, eh? It’s not fair, Da!”

Nokko winked at Bosie and grinned. “I’ll tell yer wot else isn’t fair. The stuff on a bird, that’s not fair, it’s feathers. Ha ha…fur, feathers, get it?”

The ghost of a smile touched Bosie’s lips. “Och, very droll, Ah’m sure, mah friend. Er, by the by, did anybeast mention breakfast, ah’m fair famished!”

Garul, the elder Guosim, called to some shrews, “Set up a fire an’ we’ll see wot we can do.”

Whilst preparations were being made to serve food, Bisky and Spingo joined the Gonfelins, to gather firewood.

Gobbo came hurtling out of the tunnel, like a stone from a slingshot. He was gabbling uncontrollably. “Quick quick runrun the addersnake’s comin’ down the tunnel runrun or we’ll all be ate alive!”

He was leaping about, waving his paws frantically. Nokko tripped him neatly, sending him headlong into the stream. “Take a drink an’ get yer breath back, me ould son. Is the snake really comin’, mate?”

Frubb nodded. “Ho aye, zurr, that ee bees, though the way ee surrpint is throwen’ itself abowt, ’twill take summ toime. But ee’m a-cummen sure enuff!”

Dubble tried hard to stop himself trembling.

“W…w…wot’ll we do?”

Surprisingly, it was Gobbo who came up with the answer, summing up his solution in one word: “Fire!”

Nokko beamed as he hauled his son from the stream. “That’s the first sensible thing ye’ve said in yer life. Fire, nobeast can face heat an’ flames!”

Bisky began piling brushwood and twigs into the tunnel outlet. “Come on, mates, all paws to work. Spingo, get a light from the campfire!”

Shortly thereafter, everybeast was dashing about gathering anything that would burn, deadwood, dried rushes, moss, old ferns, twigs, branches and rotten bark.

Dusting off his paws, Gobbo stood, paws akimbo. “Hah, that should stop the scummy ould villain. Just let ’im poke ’is snout inter that. He’ll gerra good roastin, I kin tell yer!”

Bosie watched the blaze, nibbling on an apple he had found. “Aye, but fire’ll no last forever, mah friend. What then?”

Zaran took up her curious sword, nodding to Bosie. “Come with me, I have a plan.” Something in her voice told the hare that he could trust to Zaran’s judgement. The black otter turned to Garul, who was standing by her side. “You must stay here, keep that fire alight. Bosie, come now, bring your fine sword.”