The other bat shuffled over. “I am Rockhanger. This is Wingfold. We have found the angry one and the strong tunneller, but no other creature, no other creature.”

Martin stood and leaned against the rocks. His head was aching and he felt a large bump between his ears.

“The other mouse is called Gonff. You’ll know him easily. He’s a cheeky little thief who loves to sing. He’s my friend, and we must find him,” he said anxiously.

Rockhanger felt with the edge of his wing across Martin’s face and body. Martin recoiled and then stood still. Rockhanger was blind.

The bat chuckled; it came out like a dry hiss.

“No creature is blind who sees by touch. If I tried hard enough I would see you with my eyes, but the tribe of Bat Mountpit gave up the use of eyesight long ago. We can feel in the dark, feel in the dark.”

The bats led Martin away from the ledge with its constant sound of falling water. They made their way along a network of caves connected by a series of passages. In the first cave they entered Martin found Log-a-Log and Young Dinny.

“Yurr, Marthen. Woip wet off’n ’ee.” The mole tossed him a heap of soft dried moss.

The warrior mouse dried himself vigorously, bringing the warmth back to his body.

“Has there been any news of Gonff?” he asked his friends.

Log-a-Log squinted in the pale light that diffused throughout the regions of Bat Mountpit.

“None at all,” he said sadly. “We’ve lost Waterwing too, after all the work I put in on that boat.”

Dinny wrinkled his snout. “Ho urr, c’n allus make ’nother bowt, but thurr be on’y one Gonffen.”

A bat came in carrying food for them. “I am Darkfur. Eat, eat. Our tribe are searching for your friend, for your friend.”

The three companions took the edge off their hunger with the food of the bats. There was hot mushroom soup and a drink made from some salty-tasting waterweed. The rest was not easy to identify, though it was quite palatable.

Martin ate automatically. A great weight hung upon his spirit. He could not imagine life without his mousethief friend at his side.

After the meal they rested awhile to recover from their ordeal. When Martin awoke, Log-a-Log and Dinny were still sleeping. There was an enormous bat standing over them. The stranger touched him lightly with a wingclaw.

“You are Martin the Warrior. I am Lord Cayvear, High Chief of the dark places. Welcome, welcome.”

Martin stood up and bowed. “Thank you for looking after our safety, Lord Cayvear. Is there any news of our friend Gonff?”

“Not yet, not yet, but sometimes no news is good news,” Lord Cayvear said reassuringly. “My scouts are searching, searching.”

Martin paced the cave anxiously. “Lord Cayvear, I cannot stay here feeling helpless while my friend may be in great danger.”

The great bat folded his wings. “I know, I know. You would not be a true friend if you did, Martin. Come with me. We will search together. Let these two sleep on; it will do them good, do them good.”