Brian Jacques - Mossflower

they felt themselves enveloped in steely coils and lifted effortlessly.

Marshgreen and his toads loomed out of the cottony mists. Three of them

waddled forward, trying to capture Dinny as the mole flayed about with heavy'

digging claws.

"Gurr, 'ee doant cum near oi, sloimy toadbags," he warned.

Deathcoil and Whipscale noticed too late the net fastened at the edge of the

Screamhole. Martin came leaping over the edge, loosing stones from his sling,

fast and accurate. He bounced a rock off Marshgreen *s head, knocking him

flat.

Gurgling screams of horror greeted the next arrival from the pit. The head of

Snakefish appeared, dripping like some primeval monster from the abyss,

slitted eyes and white rows of teeth confronting the terrified assembly.

"Toadflesh!" With a bunching serpentine motion, the slayer of the swamps

pulled himself clear of the pit, shedding his passengers in the same movement.

Gonff and Log-a-Log sprang up, battling despite their bruised ribs.

Pandemonium took over as Snakefish struck like a thunderbolt into the nearest

group of toads. Regardless of

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tridents and firefly lanterns, the giant eel went about the business of

satisfying his immense hunger.

Martin turned away, sickened by the grisly spectacle.

"Are you all right, Din?" he called anxiously. "Quick, Gonff, Log-a-Log. Let's

get out of here right now."

Gonff stared wildly into the mists. "Aye, but which way, matey?''

"Hoo arr, this'n '11 show 'ee." Young Dinny had a fierce headlock on the

groggy Marshgreen.

Martin grabbed a trident and poked the toad Chief.

"Good mole, Din. Come on, you. Lead the way due west, or I'll stick you on

this oversized dinner fork and feed you to Snakefish."

Marsfigreen waddled off pleading mournfully, "Krrgloik! Mousefur notkill

Marshgreen, showyou waytogo."

In a short space of time they were blanketed on all sides by a mist so heavy

it drowned out even the far-off squeals of Snakefish's victims.

Log-a-Log watched the green bulk of the toad waddling ahead. "Well, at least

he seems to know which way to go. What's next in your rhyme, Gonff?"

Without hesitation, Gonff reeled off Olav Skyfurrow's lines,

O feathered brethen of the air, Fly straight and do not fall, Onward cross the

wet gold flat, Where seabirds wheel and call.

Martin prodded Marshgreen lightly with the trident. "Do you know that place?"

The defeated toad Chief turned, blinking his eyefilms. "Krrploik! Notfar

notfar, shorebad, seabird eatyou eatme."

Martin leaned on the trident. "Oh, stop moaning, Green-bottom. We'll let you

go when we're free of this mist. Though it's more than you deserve."

Eventually they reached a clear running stream. They drank

some water while Dinny dug up edible roots.

"Gurr, rooten. They baint no deeper'n ever pie, no zurr." Gonff perched on a

rock. "Don't worry, matey. If we ever

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come out of all this in one piece I'll steal the biggest pie in all

Mossflower, just for you."

Dinny closed his eyes dreamily. "Urr, a roight big'n an' all furr this yurr

mole."

Gonff broke into song.

It will be great, I'll watch you, mate,

And you can dive right in.

But don't sing with your mouth full,

"This pie is all for Din."

A crust as light as thistledown,

And filled with all you dream:

Fresh vegetables, the best of fruit,

All floating round in cream.

Dinny lay upon his back, waving stubby paws. "O joy, 0 arpiness, an' all

furoi, 'ee say."

The trek was long and wearisome; time stood still in the land of the mists.

Martin longed to see natural daylight again, be it bright and sunny, or

clouded and rainy.

They were negotiating a particularly soggy stretch of ground when Log-a-Log

remarked to Gonff, "Here, d'you reckon things have gone a bit darkish?"

Gonff jumped onto a tussock of dry reeds. "That's prob'ly because nighttime's

coming on, matey."

Martin pointed. "Look, I can see the sky."

Sure enough, the mists were beginning to thin. Pale evening sky was plainly

visible from where they stood.

Gonff made a further discovery. "See, on the other side of this grass, there's

sand. Looks like miles of the stuff."

Hurriedly they jumped onto the tussock to confirm Gonff's sighting. Behind

them, Marshgreen picked up the trident and waddled off, back into his domain

of swamp and mist.

The questors gazed in wonder at the scene before them. On the horizon the sun

was sinking in a sheen of pearl gray and dusty crimson. Martin's paw shot up,

pointing northwest. "Look, the flames of Salamandastron!"

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That same evening, the Corim assembled in the main room of Brockhall. There

was much to be discussed. Goody Stickle bustled about laying the table, with

Coggs firmly attached to her apron strings. The little hedgehog did not

complain; besides, speaking through a mouthful of hot acorn scone dripping

with fresh butter and damson jam was not quite the form for budding warriors

and daring escapers. He waved in passing to Ferdy, who was seated in a deep

armchair with Ben Stickle.

Between bites of his scone, Ferdy related a highly colored version of their

adventures.

"So me and Coggs broke the door down and pounced on these three weasels—or was

it stoats? No, they were weasels. Anyhow, there was six of them, great ugly

vermin. Hoho, did we ever give them what for! The wildcat Queen was there, but

she took one look at us and ran away. Good job, too! D'you know, Ben, me and

old Coggs there, we had to carry four squirrels off through the trees—or was

it otters? No, it was squirrels, I'm sure. Saved them from those Kotir

soldiers, though."

Ben Stickle wiped jam and crumbs from Ferdy's mouth.

"Must have made the pair of you powerful hungry. You haven't done anything but

eat since you got back, except talk, that is. Are you sure you never chattered

any of those stoats to death?"

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When the table was laid, silence fell as Bella entered the room.

"My hall is your home," she said. "Please fill your platters and eat the

excellent food. Thank you, Goody Stickle, for this splendid table."

There was an immediate clatter of serving and good humor.

"Pass that deeper V ever pie. Mind you don't fall in."

"Hoho, is that leek and onion broth I smell?"

"Mmm, fruit pie. Ouch, it's hot!"

"Here, cool it down with some of this cream."

"Pass the butter, please."

"Nut pudding! My old mum used to make this."

"Aye, I remember Gonff pinching it from her oven."

"Hahaha. Here, have a go at this quince and apple crumble."

"Hey, who's used all the cream?"

' 'I say, Goody, you must give me the recipe for your plum pudding."

"Ask your gran—she gave it to me."

"Now, which will I have, October ale, cider or buttermilk?"

"None. You're fat enough, Ben Stickle."

A pleasant time was passing eating the celebratory supper.

When the dishes were cleared away, Abbess Germaine stood up.

"Pray silence for our host," she called.

Bella took the floor. "Where are Ferdy, Coggs, Spike and Posy?"

Ben pointed in the direction of the dormitory. "Well abed and snorin' like

champions, marm."

Bella bowed her head. "Then let us give a moment of silence and thought to the

memory of a very brave otter, the Mask, without whom none of tonight's joy

would have been possible."

A respectful silence followed, broken only by an audible sniff from Skipper.

Bella took a sip of buttermilk, then she wiped her eyes on the back of a heavy