“I must tell the Queen that a robin has seen Cludd hanging about. No, that’s not right. I must tell the robin that Cludd has been hanging the Queen . . .”

Argulor did not require perfect sight to tell him where his next noisy meal was. He dropped like a stone to the forest below.

A stone with talons and a curving beak.

* * *

Bella’s study was still awash in a litter of old documents. They slid from the desk, which still had its secret drawer hanging askew. Several food trays stood balanced here and there amid the dust. The scroll and four leaves that had led the friends to the route lay on the arm of the big armchair, where Dinny sat snuggled in its deep cushioned seat. Bella leaned against the desk. She did not mind the young mole borrowing her favourite chair, though he did seem to be growing rather fond of it. Martin paced up and down. At each turn he had to step over Gonff. The little mousethief lay stretched out on a worn carpet that covered the study floor. Martin was having trouble imagining himself as a bird. The mere mention of heights made the ground-loving Young Dinny feel sick and dizzy. Gonff, however, was displaying a fine aptitude for a mousebird.

“Ha, ‘I look below to see a place of wood with plumage green that breezes move like sea.’ It’s as plain as the whiskers on your face, mateys. He means good old Mossflower Woods, right where we are.”

Bella closed her eyes, picturing herself in flight. “Hmm, I suppose that our woods would look like water moving in the wind from above. Carry on, Gonff. What’s next?”

“Er, ‘Behind me as the dawn breaks clear, wood-pigeons come awake’.”

“Burr, doant you uns see, dawnbreak, sunroise. Gooseburd be a-tellen us’ns to traverse westerly,” Young Dinny called out from the armchair.

Martin shook Dinny’s paw. “Good mole! Of course, if the sun rises in the east and dawnbreak is behind him, then he must be traveling due west. Well solved, Young Dinny.”

The mole gave a huge grin, settling deeper into the armchair. “Ho urr, this yurr young mole ain’t on’y a digger. Oi seed they woodenpidger waken at dawnen, gurr, turrible noisebags they be, all that cooen. Goo on, wot’s next bit o’ poartee?”

Gonff continued, “The poetry says, ‘See brown dust roll twixt green and gold, unwinding like a snake.’”

Bella nodded knowingly. “Aha, friend Olav gave me an easy one there. I know the very place. Between the woods and the flatlands south of Kotir, the road has a twist in it. I’ve walked down it many times and thought it was just like a snake trying to slough its skin.”

Gonff shuddered at the mention of snake. “So, mateys, we walk through the woods, heading west, and cross the path below Kotir. Then there’s only one way we can go. Straight out across the flatlands and the open plains, like the poem says, ‘O’er the golden acres’ to where the ‘snake of blue’ lies—brr, snakes.”