Soffen looked at Brock with a frown, obviously ill at ease.
"What are you going to tell them about the trip Soffen?"
"The truth. There's no point in lying. They'd find out soon enough anyway."
Brock shrugged. "I wasn't expecting you to lie to them. I'm just concerned that the Custodians will hear about our plans and stop us before we have the chance to leave. The fewer badgers who know what we're up to, the better."
Grey wrinkled his snout. "You know, I really don't understand you Brock. First you do everything in your power to inform the Custodians about your plans, then you're hiding everything from them." Exhaling heavily the old badger shook his head. "I hate all this subterfuge, I really do."
Brock flicked his tail. "And so do I Grey, but my vision shows us how to save the sett. Nothing can be allowed to get in the way of that."
"But why must we lie all the time?" Grey retaliated.
"Because the Preceptor would surely kill us rather than let us gain control of Boddaert's Magic," Soffen's clear tones cut across the argument with a ring of authority. "There's no way he would allow any badger to gain such power. Think about it for a moment. Think of the power that the holder of Boddaert's Magic would have."
Grey's snout wrinkled as he considered her statement. Yes, perhaps the Healer was right. At the very least, any badger having the strength of Boddaert's Magic behind him would certainly be a force to be reckoned with.
"Hello mother."
The group fell silent as Darkburst entered the chamber.
Soffen smiled at her cub. "Hello Darkburst and where have you been all this time? I've been looking for you."
"By the rookery mother, looking for fallen squabs. I thought I saw you there earlier with Broshee, talking by the nettle patch."
"Yes you could have, we were there for awhile. I was telling Broshee about a trip we're making."
Darkburst nodded to himself, as though his mother's words confirmed something he already knew.
"Yes, I overheard you." He looked uneasy at Soffen's sharp glance.
"I didn't see you," she replied, consternation clouding her face.
Darkburst looked away for a moment but quickly recovered. "I was practising my stalking mother, that's why you didn't see me. I was hiding in the long grass but I was only there for a moment."
Grey passed Darkburst a worm. "Your mother wants you to come on a trip with us, youngster. What do you think about that?"
"Where to?"
Soffen touched her cub's flank. "We're not sure exactly but we'll be gone for a long time. That's why I want you and your sister to come with us."
"As protector?"
"What?" Grey's sharp eyes searched the young badger's face.
"Oh nothing, nothing. I was just thinking aloud, that's all. So when are we leaving mother?"
"Grey has one or two things to arrange first. So probably in two or three moons."
"I've got something that I must do too," Darkburst called over his shoulder as he turned away. "I won't be long."
Soffen stared after her cub, an uneasy feeling filling her chest.
Chapter 10
A thick evening mist swirled around the five badgers as they moved through the undergrowth, muting their voices. Brock gave occasional orders in a low growl, as though afraid the forest might overhear. The dew, glistening on their fur, made them appear as phantoms gliding over the pathway in the moonlight.
Brock led, followed by Darkburst, and close on their heels came Soffen and Broshee, with Grey bringing up the rear. They travelled fast, determined to put as much distance as possible between themselves and Brockenhurst Sett before they were missed.
Their immediate aim was to reach the Andith River and find a crossing before the sun pierced the darkness. Once there, they would feel safe enough to take a rest and plan their next move.
They walked in silence, each lost in their own anxieties, all having doubts about the journey they were undertaking but none wanting to raise them. The only sounds, other than the sharp rustle of undergrowth being brushed aside, was the slap of a paw on stone and the occasional cough.
Darkburst's thoughts returned to the small Talisman tucked safely beneath the fur about his neck, as though seeking some reassurance from it. Grindel had given it to him to help protect his mother against the dangers she faced, but he still had no idea what those dangers might be. The adults had not discussed the journey in front of him, so he didn't know where they were headed. He'd spent a long time examining the Talisman when Grindel had first given it to him, fascinated by the tiny marks covering its surface, which were so like the carvings on the taproot chamber walls.
Brock's thoughts were centred on a different puzzle: how to decipher the Sacred Roots and locate the hiding place of Boddaert's Magic.
Having eagerly studied the roots when Grey had first passed them over, Brock quickly admitted defeat, unable to make any sense of the miniature carvings running from tip to tip. It would take time to unravel the secrets hidden there, time they didn't have.
After much debate, Brock had persuaded the others that the only option was to take the Sacred Roots with them and hope that somehow they'd be able to return them before Grindel noticed their absence.
Grey had protested violently, and Brock's nose twitched in vexation as he recalled the remarks that the old badger had thrown at him. But such were Soffen's skills of diplomacy, that she had been able to calm things down enough for them to form a plan of action.
Soffen moved up until she was walking directly behind Brock, purposefully treading in his footsteps, something she'd done as a cub when out walking with her father. It had made her feel safe then and it made her feel safe now.
With each passing cycle Soffen's feelings were growing stronger for the Teller and she wondered if he felt the same way about her. Unlike the others, Soffen's concerns were centred more on her cubs than the journey they were making– Darkburst, who but for the Dark Healing, would now be walking in the shadow of the Prime Mover, and Broshee, carefree Broshee, who wanted nothing more than to mate and raise cubs. Soffen smiled, quickening her pace to catch up with Brock.
Of the five badgers walking the path that moon, Grey was the least happy. The long walk had given him time to reflect on the enormity of his actions. When the theft of the Sacred Roots was discovered it would cost him his place as a Custodian, and probably his right to live in Brockenhurst Sett as well.
By Homer, why on earth had he allowed himself to become involved in such madness as this?
Snout creasing with anxiety, Grey wondered how long it would be before the Preceptor discovered the theft of the Sacred Roots and sent out a search party. The Preceptor might even resurrect the ancient rite of Rock Piling, especially for him!
Grinding his teeth in agitation, Grey contemplated his fate, his anger quickly building. He'd been weak to let the others take advantage of his tolerant nature. He should have reported them to the Council when they'd first suggested this scatterbrained scheme.
As Grey continued to worry, a grim determination overcame him. It wasn't too late to save himself, not by a long way. He would slip away at the earliest opportunity, return the Sacred Roots to Brockenhurst Sett, then throw himself on the Preceptor's mercy.
Satisfied that he'd found the right solution, the old Custodian plodded along after the others with a new spring in his step and a new hope in his heart.
As the small group made its way along the well-worn paths of Brockenhurst Forest they were followed by a skulking figure. Hidden in the shadows of the thickening mist, Grindel watched them leave the confines of Brockenhurst Forest, and once he was satisfied that they were well on their way, turned back towards the sett, ready to report to Skelda.
Flicking his tail in agitation, Grindel did his best to ignore the sour taste that had suddenly welled up in his mouth at the thought of seeing that deformed old monster once more.
*
Back in the Great Chamber, Skelda did not need Grindel's re
port to know that the search was well underway. The wily old badger had his own methods of following the group's progress. He'd only set Grindel the task of following the group so that the Preceptor wouldn't see him using the special carvings.
Through the medium of the carvings in the taproot chamber, and the Talisman carried by Darkburst, Skelda was able to observe all that was happening within the vicinity of the young badger. He chuckled contentedly, feeling happier than he had for some considerable time.
Chewing on a piece of rank flesh, pleased at his own cunning, Skelda considered his solution.
The ancient ones would have been able to view the forest without the aid of the Talisman of course, their powers being far more potent than his. The carvings alone would have been enough to see everything throughout the great forest and surrounding district, but he was well satisfied with the answer he'd devised. The Talisman gave him a direct connection to the carvings. He just hoped it would be a strong enough connection to cover the distances involved.
*
A keen breeze had cleared the mist and the sky was filled with a myriad twinkling points of bright light. Brock had allowed the group only one short break for food before resuming the punishing pace. The path they were travelling now meandered through open countryside and the moon shone down with an intensity seldom experienced beneath the canopy of Brockenhurst Forest.
Grey quickened his pace, drawing level with Brock. "How much further do you intend going before we stop?" he asked.
Brock halted, cocked his head and smiled. "Hear that?" The others formed a circle around him, listening.
"It's running water, isn't it?" Broshee asked.
Brock nodded. "Yes, I think it's the Andith River and we need to cross it as soon as we can. I'd like to push on."
Not waiting for their agreement the Teller put his head down and set off again.
As the sky lightened with the first streaks of dawn the tired badgers finally reached the source of the running water, Brock sighing his disappointment when they discovered it was not the Andith River after all, just a small tributary. Now exhausted, the group agreed to stop for food and a rest. As they were still close to Brockenhurst Forest, Brock suggested they post a lookout, volunteering to take the first stint himself. Digging a small burrow under a fallen tree, the foot-sore band settled down to sleep.
Brock was glad of some time alone as it gave him the chance to examine the Sacred Roots undisturbed. He studied the enigmatic pieces of wood from every angle, even trying to use his knowledge of The Way to unlock their secrets.
Brock worked at the small carvings until his eyes watered with the strain, rocking back and forth in an unconscious rhythm as he searched for the answer. In the end, frustrated and angry, he sat back on his haunches and turned his thoughts to recent events instead. Maybe Grey was right and his vision was the product of his own guilt-ridden imagination, his way of dealing with the fact that he'd survived when his friends and family had perished.
Tossing the Sacred Roots aside, Brock decided to take a walk to clear his mind. Crossing the small stream he wandered aimlessly up the gentle slope of the bank and stood on the brow.
From his high vantage point Brock spotted the Andith River curving gently away in the valley below. Looking at the water swollen by the spring rains, splashing froth and foam high into the air as it pounded its way over the stony riverbed, he cursed softly. It would be impossible to cross when in full spate like this. Turning aside he headed back to the temporary burrow, responsibility hanging heavily on his mind.
Darkburst woke with a start, looking up at Brock with sleep-clouded eyes.
"Your turn to keep watch," Brock whispered, so as not to disturb the other sleeping badgers.
As soon as Darkburst crawled from his sleeping place, the Teller flopped down in his place, curled into a tight ball and quickly fell asleep.
Rubbing his eyes, Darkburst made his way outside. The sun was high on the horizon, colouring the sky a brilliant red. Settling down with a collection of worms, beetles and grubs, he began sating his appetite, the rising sun warming his back as he savoured each bite. Contentedly crunching his way through the last of a beetle, Darkburst sucked the soft meat from its plump body, then cast the hard wing cases adrift. As they fluttered away on the breeze, he walked to a nearby tree and cleansed his claws with long, deep sweeps.
Turning away from his ablutions, Darkburst hesitated as something caught his attention. Sunlight was reflecting from an object half-hidden in the grass. Squinting against the glare the young badger moved closer and looked down, a sudden fullness filling his chest when he spotted the Sacred Roots.
Reverently picking up the five pieces of ancient wood, Darkburst smiled broadly, nodding his head slowly when he saw they were covered in the same unusual carvings adorning the taproot chamber walls.
With a mounting feeling of excitement, he willed the Sacred Roots into life, but despite his best efforts they remained just five pieces of inert wood.
The young badger thought long and hard, studying the carvings on the Roots as well as on the Talisman that Grindel had given him. Then a thought struck him. The patterns formed by the carvings on the walls back in the Great Chamber were interconnected in a circular pattern, layered one on the other.
Darkburst began arranging the Sacred Roots into different circular patterns, hoping that the right combination would unlock their secret.
He kept at his task as the sun rose higher and higher, all thoughts of waking his relief now forgotten. Time after time he carefully placed each root into a new shape, but as the sun moved directly overhead, his patience began to wear thin.
Even so the young badger persevered, until he was unexpectedly rewarded with a flash of bright light. Wrinkling his snout, Darkburst stretched out a trembling paw and separated the roots from each other. Then holding his breath in anticipation, he gently pushed them back together again, gasping in delight as a bright spear of light flickered between their ends once more.
Darkburst repeated this action over and over, and each time the same bright light flickered for an instant, but no matter how hard he tried, the young badger could make no further progress. Finally, in total frustration, he threw the ancient pieces of wood onto the ground and turned away in disgust.
From the corner of his eye a movement caught his attention. Looking back, heart fluttering wildly, Darkburst lowered his head and carefully counted the Roots. Then wrinkling his snout, he counted them once more, and just to be certain, yet again.
Yes he was right, there were now eight pieces of root, where before there had only been five. He counted them one last time. Eight. But where had the other three pieces come from?
Forming a new circle with the eight pieces of root, Darkburst gasped when a searing white light exploded into being, momentarily blinding him with its intensity. He staggered backwards, blinking his eyes rapidly until his sight recovered.
The young badger stood transfixed before a swirling multi-coloured layer of light that grew in intensity as it pushed upwards from the ground, curling in upon itself, taking on the shape of a sphere dancing on the gentle breeze.
A shape began to form within the sphere, incomplete and uncertain at first, but growing stronger as the swirling colours span faster and faster. Finally, deep within the bluest of blues, Darkburst glimpsed a moon swept landscape– a panoramic view of a large flat meadow.
Smooth grass undulated away to the horizon, drawing his eye with it. And there, outshining the cold moon, where the dark sky met the darker ground, were the brightest stars that he'd ever seen.
No ordinary stars these, for they were trapped between the low clouds and the ground, travelling across the horizon at an incredible speed. Almost too fast for the eye to follow they streamed along in an unending line that slashed a white swath across the landscape.
Here was something frightening and far beyond his comprehension, but for all that, exciting in its strangeness. Forcing his attention away from the strange lights,
Darkburst allowed his gaze to encompass a large lake nestled in a low hollow– its source, a meandering river stretching across the landscape as far as the eye could see.
The young badger suddenly realised that this was the Andith River. His excitement built as he felt himself being pulled into the scene. He wanted, no needed, to become a part of it, to meld with it, until it filled his being.
"What are you doing?"
The unexpected question caught Darkburst by surprise and he jumped, knocking the Sacred Roots apart. At once the ball of light collapsed, snapping out. Darkburst glowered at Grey, his heart pounding so hard that speech was impossible.
"What are you doing?" Grey repeated.
"I was watching the stars," Darkburst replied in a distant voice.
"Watching the stars. Were you indeed? I see."
Darkburst looked at Grey as though only just realising that the old badger was there. Then shaking his head, replied, "No, I don't think you do. Here, let me show you."
Darkburst leant forward to begin rearranging the Sacred Roots into the pattern he'd discovered, but as he touched the first one, he froze and glanced back up at Grey, his snout wrinkled in agitation.
"What's wrong?" Grey demanded.
"What's happening?" Broshee called as she emerged from the burrow.
"Broshee, go and get mother and Brock!" Darkburst shouted at her.
"What?" The young sow stretched and yawned, sleep still clogging her eyes.
"I said go and get mother. NOW!"
Broshee looked hurt. "Well there's no need to be so rude about it," she shouted back.
"What's the matter with you youngster?" Grey scolded Darkburst. "Why are you taking that tone with your sister? She's done nothing to deserve being shouted at."
Darkburst fixed Grey with a cold stare and the old badger shifted uncomfortably. "I think I've found the key to the Sacred Roots," he said quietly.
Grey reached over, picking up one of the short, blackened sticks. After studying it intently for a moment, his features shifted from inquisitiveness, to puzzlement, and finally, to rage.
"By Homer," he whispered hoarsely, "but this is one of the Sacred Roots!" Turning on Darkburst, the old Custodian shouted at him, "You've destroyed the Sacred Roots! Look at them. How am I supposed to return to Brockenhurst Sett now? What possessed you? How could you have done this to me? You . . . you young idiot!"