I’m back, Columbine.
Yes, now is the hour
My good friends and I
Will be saving Mossflower,

or some such cheery air. Columbine lay watching sunmotes dancing through dappled patterns of green leaves, dreaming of her thief.

Then she sighted the fox.

It was a vixen, dressed like a journeying healer. The fox cast about, sniffing here, inspecting a scuffed leaf there, obviously searching for somebody or something.

Columbine slid silently away from her hiding place. Once she was out of the fox’s vision she took to her paws, dashing headlong back to Brockhall.

Shooing some little ones inside, she shut the door and bolted it. It was lunchtime, Loamhedge mice were serving up hazelnut cloister pudding with willowherb sauce. Columbine made straight for Bella.

“Fox, fox, coming this way!” she panted.

Skipper put a restraining paw on her. “Whoa there. What fox coming from where?”

“Out in the woods, coming from the northwest, sniffing and probing. It’s a vixen. She’ll find her way here soon unless we stop her.”

Lady Amber mopped up sauce with a crust. “A vixen eh, did you recognize her, Columbine?”

“Oh yes, it’s the one they call Fortunata, though she’s disguised herself up a bit. I recognized her at the ambush.”

“An old raggedy cloak and hood,” Bella interrupted, “together with a bag of herbs and a staff?”

Columbine nodded.

“The old pilgrim healer disguise. Wearing a bit thin, eh, Mask,” the badger chuckled drily.

The otter looked up from his pudding. “What are you going to do about her?”

Lady Amber reached for her quiver. “A swift arrow in the right place should save any argument.”

Skipper pawed his sling. “Either that or a sharp rock on her stem.”

Mask stood up, patting a full stomach. “Miz badger, why don’t you let me deal with this? It may help with our escape plans for the prisoners.”

Bella pushed food toward Columbine. “Here, little one, have some lunch. Go on, Mask, tell us the plan.”

The otter had his back to them, he was selecting disguises. “I say, let her come, see what she wants, but don’t let her know who I am. Pretend that I’m a newcomer.”

When he turned to face the Corim, Mask was indeed a newcomer. He was transformed into the most evil slim gray old fox they had ever seen.

The Mask slid into Bella’s study to complete his disguise. “Find the right tail, rub a little brown dust into my coat and see to the finer bits. Ha, she won’t be able to tell me from her own grandpa when I’m finished.”

* * *

“Right. We’ve got you. Don’t try anything funny or we’ll skewer this mole!”

Martin opened his eyes. The ferret and the stoat were standing over Dinny, their spearpoints at his throat. The warrior mouse was about to jump instinctively for them, but Gonff discouraged him.

“Do as he says, matey. They’ve taken us by surprise.”

All three lay quite still. Blacknose smirked with satisfaction.