“Cover your face!” bellowed Ailsa. And with a crash they hit the treetops, smashing through leaves and branches, shattering all in their path to the ground.
“Lief, are you all right?”
Stiffly, Lief uncovered his face and blinked into Ailsa’s dark, anxious eyes. He swallowed. “I am very well, thank you,” he croaked. “As well as anyone can be who has just crashed through a thorn tree.”
Ailsa nodded solemnly. “It was not my best landing,” she agreed. “But there are no gaps in the Boolongs here. That is why we are safe from the gnomes. They do not like the thorns.”
“I do not love them myself,” grunted Barda, who was sitting on the ground beside Jasmine, inspecting several wicked-looking scratches on the backs of his hands. He hauled himself to his feet, went to a narrow stream that gurgled nearby, and began bathing the wounds.
Merin and Bruna had plunged into the thick of the gnarled trees that overhung the trickling water. They were joyously pulling hard little black cones from the clusters of prickly leaves that grew all over the twisted trunks, and crunching them as though they were sweets.
“So these are Boolong trees,” Barda went on. “I cannot say I find them pleasing. I have never seen such spines.”
“They do not hurt us,” said Ailsa. She picked a few clinging leaves from her velvety fur, popped them into her mouth, and chewed with relish, despite the long, needle-sharp thorns at their edges.
“When we lived here there were not so many Boolong trees, and there were many paths winding through them,” she went on, with her mouth full. “The streams were wide, and there were clearings everywhere. Without us to feed on them, the Boolongs have grown and spread wonderfully. The cones are full of seed, of course. That is what makes them so tasty!”
Above, there was the rumble of thunder. Ailsa stopped chewing and sniffed the air. Then she hurried over to where Merin and Bruna were still thrashing around, feasting. “We must go!” the companions heard her calling. “A storm is coming. Fill your pouches with cones. We will take them home for the others.”
Jasmine shook her head. “The gnomes must have the gem. But I do not know how we are to climb to their stronghold through this thorn forest,” she muttered. “We will be cut to pieces if we try. We can only sit here now because the Kin smashed a clearing when they landed.”
“Perhaps we could clear a path with fire,” Lief suggested.
Kree squawked, Filli chattered nervously, and Jasmine shook her head.
“That would be far too dangerous,” she said. “We could never control a fire in woods as thick as these. The blaze could easily burn us all.”
The three Kin came towards them, their pouches bulging with cones and bundles of thorny leaves. They looked as though they had been arguing.
“We came to say farewell,” Ailsa said. “We must leave now, so as to be away before the storm breaks. Storms here are fierce and can last for days.”
“We should not leave our friends alone so soon!” Merin exclaimed. “There is too much they do not know.”
Bruna’s whiskers twitched crossly. “Merin, we promised Crenn that we would return as quickly as possible. And if we are marooned here —”
“We would not be marooned!” Merin exclaimed. “This is our place. This is where we should be, for always. I see that, now that I am here.” Her eyes were bright with excitement. “We should stay, and the others can join us. The gnomes cannot touch us here, in the lower part of the Mountain.”
“Merin, we landed safely by a miracle,” Ailsa sighed. “Do you want our friends to take that risk? How many do you think would survive?”
“And even if only half did so,” Bruna put in, “the Boolong trees would be eaten back to normal in a few years. Then the paths would be open once more, the gnomes would come back, and the slaughter would start again.”
Merin hung her head. “It is cruel,” she whispered. But Lief, Barda, and Jasmine could see that she knew her friends were right.
Overhead, the thunder growled. Ailsa glanced nervously at the sky. “There is a big outcrop of rock not far from here,” she said rapidly. “I saw it as we landed. It will be quickest if we take off from there. It will be heavy work, but I think we are all strong enough to do it.”
With Lief, Barda, and Jasmine following, the three Kin pushed a track up through the Boolong trees. Soon they had reached the rocks and were looking out at open sky. Dark clouds had rolled in from the south.
“The clouds will hide us, once we are safely inside them,” Ailsa said. “And if I am right the gnomes will not be looking down here. They will be watching higher up, hoping for more of us to arrive.”
“Farewell, then, good Kin,” said Barda. “We cannot thank you enough for what you have done for us.”
“There is no need for thanks,” Bruna answered simply. “All of us are richer for seeing our home again — even for this little time. All we ask is that you take care so that one day we may see you again.”
The three bent, touching their heads to Lief’s, Barda’s, and Jasmine’s foreheads. Then they turned, spread their wings, and sprang for the sky.
For a few tense moments, wings beating frantically, they struggled just to stop themselves from crashing back down to earth. The companions watched in breathless silence, sure that at any moment the gnomes would hear the wing beats, look down, fire …
But all was well. There were no shouts, no arrows shooting from above, as the Kin at last steadied and began moving forward. Their outlines grew fainter as the clouds closed in around them. Then they were gone.
Barda turned away with a sigh of relief and began scrambling back down the rocks. Lief was about to follow when he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye. He looked up and to his amazement saw a dark shape emerging unsteadily from the clouds above their heads.
“One of the Kin is returning!” he breathed. “But why so high? Oh, no!”
All of them stared up, aghast, at the Kin blundering into view right in the gnomes’ firing line. It was not Ailsa, Bruna, or Merin. It was …
“Prin!” hissed Lief in terror.
The little Kin caught sight of the patch of broken trees that marked the others’ landing place. She began flying towards it, stubby wings flapping weakly. The next moment there was a high, triumphant shriek and a gale of laughter from further up the Mountain, something was hurtling through the air, and Prin was falling, falling, with an arrow in her chest.
Crying out in horror, Lief, Barda, and Jasmine leaped from the rock and pounded down to the clearing. Prin was struggling feebly on the ground by the stream. Her wings were crumpled beneath her and she was making small, piteous sounds. Her eyes were glazed with pain.
The arrow that had pierced her chest had already fallen out. The wound it had left was small. But the poison the arrow carried had acted swiftly, and its terrible work was nearly done. Prin’s agonized eyes closed.
“Foolish child!” groaned Barda. “Jasmine, the —”
“The nectar —” cried Lief at the same moment. But Jasmine was already tearing the tiny jar from around her neck and tipping it over the little Kin’s chest. The last golden drops of the nectar of the Lilies of Life fell into the wound. Three drops — no more.
“If this is not enough, there is nothing more we can do,” Jasmine muttered, shaking the jar to show that it was empty. She ground her teeth in anger. “Oh, what did they suppose they would gain, shooting at her? They knew she must fall down here, where they could not get to her. Do they kill just for enjoyment?”
“It seems they do,” said Barda. “Did you not hear them laughing?”
Lief cradled Prin’s head in his arms, calling her back to life as once he had called Barda in the Forests of Silence. As Jasmine had called Kree on the way to the Lake of Tears. As Lief himself had been called in the City of the Rats. The nectar that Jasmine had caught as it dripped from the blooming Lilies of Life so long ago had saved three lives. Would it save another?