“Think carefully, lizard,” the big badger said in a low, dangerous tone, “because if I think that you are lying, then you have seen your last sunset. Which way did they go?”

Scurl swallowed hard.

“S-south . . . Straight south.” His voice was little more than a nervous whisper as he pointed the direction.

Orlando and Matthias looked to Jabez Stump. The hedgehog nodded.

“He speaks truth,” he confirmed.

Jess Squirrel gathered up the possessions that her son and his friends had parted with, and stuffed them into her backpack. “I’ll keep hold of these. If you’ve been telling the truth, you can have them back when we return this way. If you haven’t, then we’ll find you anyway and make you wish you’d never been born.”

With Basil and Cheek in the lead, they strode off south through the woodlands, leaving behind them Scurl the frilled newt, who without a moment’s hesitation started running north, hoping that the grim-faced searchers would never again cross his path.

*   *   *

Towards evening, the shadows began lengthening. Above the treetops, Orlando spotted twin hills.

“Tracks heading straight there, old lad,” Basil said, reading his thoughts. “Betcher the jolly old young uns are somewhere up there right now, wot?”

Cheek had begun to adopt Basil’s mannerisms. He struck a pose and tried hard to waggle his ears. “Oh, wot, wot. Definitely, old feller. Let’s jolly well follow the jolly, jolly old rascals, wot, wot?”

A hefty cuff from Orlando’s blunt paw sent the impudent young otter head over tail. “Mind your manners, waterdog. Don’t make fun of your elders and betters.”

Silently and with great care they approached the twin hills that reared from the forest floor in the failing light, Matthias and Orlando with weapons drawn in the lead, Cheek rubbing his head as he followed up the rear with Basil.

*   *   *

Slagar’s keen eye had picked them out. He lay on the summit of the hill, watching their progress, a cunning idea forming itself in his fertile mind.

Bageye, Skinpaw and Scringe watched the masked fox. They too had seen the searchers and were anxiously wondering what their leader would do about the warlike warriors who were getting closer by the moment. Slagar turned to them, his good eye glinting evilly from the mask as it sucked in and out with his excited panting.

“Right, here’s the plan. Listen carefully now, I want no mistakes. Scringe, run down and tell Threeclaws and Halftail to march the prisoners into that cave at the foot of this hill. Make sure they leave plenty of tracks. Then march them straight out again, cover the tracks coming out and head them south at full speed. Bageye, Skinpaw, you come with me. We’ll move further along this hilltop until we’re above the cave. There’s plenty of boulders and rocks lying about. We’ll make a great heap on top of here, right above the cave.”