work in your realm beneath the earth.”
There was a pause, then the voice from the statue spoke again.
“Who is the other one?”
Nadaz went to Slagar, and a whispered conversation took place.
The purple-robed rat returned to his former position. “He is a young rat named Vitch. The fox says that
if it pleases you he is a gift, to serve in the ranks of the Host.”
“He is not born to the Host, our ways are not known to him.” The voice was curt and dismissing. “A
rat that comes from the place of woodlands is of no use to us. Chain him with the slaves!”
Two black-robed rats appeared out of the shadows. They seized Vitch and chained him, dragging him
off as he screamed at Slagar, “Save me! Don’t let them do this to me! I was loyal to you, I served you well.
Help me, Slagar!”
The masked fox did not even turn to look at Vitch. He stared at Nadaz and shrugged.
“I thought he might have been useful, being a rat like yourself.”
The voice cut short further conversation between Slagar and Nadaz: “Keep the new slaves in darkness
without food until I decide they are fit to work. Hunger and lack of light is a sound lesson for creatures that
have known freedom in the woodlands. Ask the fox what he wants of me.”
Nadaz conferred with Slagar again.
“Malkariss, All-powerful One. Slagar says to remind you of your promise when he brought you the last
slave workers: that you give all the land above ground to him, from the gorge to the south boundaries of
your realm. He says he will serve your interests faithfully and be your voice above ground.”
“Tell the masked one to be patient awhile. Take him down below and show him the work that is being
done to complete my underworld kingdom. I will watch him for a time, and when I have made up my
mind that his voice above ground would serve me as well as yours does beneath the earth, then I will send
for him.”
Slagar could hardly wait for Nadaz to walk back to him. He had heard the voice of Malkariss clearly.
“Listen, rat, tell your master that I’ve kept my side of the bargain. He promised me that land; now you
go and tell him I have a right to the territory!”
Nadaz rattled the skull on his sceptre. The masked fox was suddenly surrounded by the black-robed
rats with their short stabbing spears held ready. The Voice of the Host confronted Slagar.
“You don’t tell me anything, fox. You have no rights here, and never dare to make demands upon
Malkariss. Your audience is over. Come with me now. If the Lord of the abyss wants to reward you he will
do it in due time. Until then, keep a rein on your tongue.”
Feeling far from satisfied, the masked fox was led away down the curving causeway steps by Nadaz
and his servants.
The diamond-patterned skullmask moved this way and that as Slagar descended into the green depths. The
steps wound down into the earth until they reached the cave bottom, where the green light came from
whatever fuel burned in the torches and braziers that dotted the vast and intricate workings.
The Sly One was impressed. Dwellings had been hewn into the rock, streets and avenues stretched
before him, some of them looked as if they were part of another building from another time. Groups of
young woodlanders, painfully thin and covered in rockdust, worked beneath the whips of their cruel
taskmasters, dragging boulders and cutting and dressing stones into square and oblong blocks. Slagar
caught a glimpse of some huge unearthly-looking creature that he could not identify.
Nadaz urged him past a band of slaves mixing mortar and cement. Strangely shaped amphitheatres and
high arched caverns gave way to a halflit passage, then the party halted in front of a wall. Carved upon it in
relief was a weird and curious mural with the figure of Malkariss at its center.
Nadaz turned to him. “This is the limit of our workings. Go now, my blackrobes will take you to your
chamber, and there you must wait until Lord Malkariss gives his decision. You are fortunate, fox. Apart
from the creatures I command, you are the only one who has set eyes upon the underground world.”
As the black-robed rats led Slagar away, he watched Nadaz from the corner of his slitted hood. The
purple-robed rat touched the left paw of the carved polecat and the figure swung inwards. As Nadaz went
through, Slagar managed to see a shaft of light on the other side before the carving was pushed back into
place.
The Sly One made a mental note that this was a secret exit, then in silence he allowed himself to be led
back up the causeway steps. Slagar neither liked nor trusted Malkariss and Nadaz, but he was confident
that he could outthink them both. One day he would rule all of this land, above and below ground; at
present he was content to wait. The delivery of the slaves had gained him entrance to this strange world.
Malkariss would probably think he was an efficient servant, and promotion would follow. Slagar would
bide his time, he was nobeast’s servant; only one position interested the masked fox. Complete and utter
ruler.
The afternoon had begun fading away in pink-tinged sunlight when Matthias and his friends arrived at the
tree. It was a giant pine, standing alone.
Orlando stood and stretched to his full height against it. “By the stripes! It’s so big it makes me feel like
a pebble against a mountain. I’ll bet it’d take a lot of otters tail to tip to go round a trunk this size, eh,
Cheek?”
The young otter patted the immense girth of the bole. “I’ll say it would. Have you ever seen one like
this before, Jess?”
The squirrel shook her tail in admiration. “Never. It’s a wonderful sight. Pity it stands alone, because
you can only climb up it or down, you couldn’t leap to another tree. The nearest ones are over there. See?
Where Matthias is heading. Hey, Warrior, where are you off to? I thought you wanted to see this tree.”
Matthias walked in a straight line with a measured pace, keeping his eyes to the ground.
“It’s not the tree I wanted to see, only its shadow.”
Basil caught up with him. “What d’you want with a bally shadow, old lad?”
Matthias kept walking deliberately. “Remember the rhyme, ‘ face the lord who points the way, after noon on
summer’s day. ’ Right, the tree is the lord who points the way, and it’s gone noon, nearly evening. The
shadows are at their longest now. Look at our shadows, they’re much longer than we are. So, if the tree is
the biggest thing around, it has the longest shadow. I have an idea that where this shadow ends we’ll find
what we’re looking for.”
The rest of the searchers rushed to join him. Like creatures in some solemn procession, they walked
along with heads bowed, following the path of the giant pine’s shadow.
It ended upon a humped rock sticking from the heath a short way from a copse. They gathered around
the rock.
“So, here it is.”
“Well, what now?”
Matthias banged upon it with his sword hilt. It sounded quite solid. Log-a-Log scratched it, Jess jumped
upon it, Orlando tried to push it. In various ways they all tried to make the rock yield up its secret, to no
avail. Basil lay flat on his back on top of it, staring up at the rapidly fading day.
“Don’t think much of your idea, old chap. Bit of a damp squib, wot? A rock’s a rock and that’s all this
one is.”
Matthias stubbed his paw against the stone. “Ouch! Listen, I’m convinced that this is it; this is where the
poem says that death will open up its grave.”
“Just as well we never found it,” Cheek gulped.