Columbine nodded and smiled politely, trying to hide her amazement. “Oh, I see, just a loight brekkist, er, light breakfast.”

As Columbine ate, she remembered Gonff. If only he were here amid this friendly company with her! She mentally wagered with herself that he would know the name and taste of every dish (and probably be jokingly chided for having stolen many of them in bygone days). She pictured her mousethief jesting with everybody, imitating molespeech and singing ballads as he composed them.

The young mousemaid heaved a sigh into her mint tea. It dissolved in a small cloud of fragrant steam. Where, oh where, was Gonff on this beautiful morning?

It was nearly midmorning when the “light breakfast’ reached its conclusion. Then, guarded and guided by the mole community, Columbine and her friends made their way back to Brockhall by a secret woodland route.

* * *

Martin, Gonff and Dinny were wide awake by daybreak. They crouched in the small cave, eating breakfast as they watched a gray drizzly dawn. Packing the food away, the travelers stamped life back into their numbed paws. Surprisingly, Gonff was first to step outside.

“Come on, mateys. It’ll brighten up by mid-morning. You wait and see—I’m a Prince of Predictors.”

Striding out, they left the low hills behind, to face yet more flatlands. Wakened grouse whirred into the damp morning air at their approach.

Sala-manda-stron,
Look where we’ve come from,
Three of Mossflower’s best,
Marching out upon our quest:
Sala-manda-stron.

Scratch sighted the three dim forms through the layers of drizzling rain.

“There they go. Come on, you two. I’ve got a feeling that today’s the day we catch ’em. Come on, move yourselves. The sooner it’s done, the quicker we’ll get back to Kotir. Aye, good solid food again, a long rest, and maybe a bit of honor and glory.”

“Huh, I’m soaked right through!” Splitnose complained. “Me too,” grumbled Blacktooth. “I never slept a wink again. Sitting out on top of a hill, miles from anywhere in the pouring rain, stiff all over, cold, hungry, shiver—”

“Shuttup!” Scratch interrupted bitterly. “Put a button on your driveling lip. Look at me, I’m weary, saturated and starved, but do you hear me whimpering on about it all the time? Up on your paws, and try to look like you’re the Queen’s soldiers from Kotir.”

They trekked westward, pursuing the travelers.

Splitnose was muttering as he kicked a pebble along in front of himself. “Honor and glory, huh. Cludd’ll get all that, and he can keep it, too. Now if it was honor cake and a mug of hot glory, that’d be a different thing.”

“Honor cake and hot glory drink? Don’t talk such rubbish, soggyhead,” Blacktooth laughed.

“Soggyhead yourself, drippynose.”

“Crinkleclaws!”

“Greasyfur!”

“Beetlebottom!”

“Stow the gab and get marching, both of you!” Scratch told them.

* * *

True to Gonff’s prediction, the rain ceased. Above the plains the sun came out to watch fluffy clouds sailing about on the breeze across a lake of bright blue sky.