The plan worked neatly. Dashing out, they had the squirrel boxed in. As they moved closer, it backed toward the pool. It was a female, incredibly small and thin, traces of its former red showing beneath the fur that was heavily grayed with age. She stood with her back to the water, baring toothless gums at them. Mara held out her paws in a sign of peace.

“I am Mara, this is Pikkle, and Tubgutt. We mean you no harm. Why were you throwing cherry stones at us? I could understand if you were a young playful squirrel, but one of your seasons . . . You surprise me with your infantile behavior.”

The ancient creature did not reply. She swayed from side to side, seeking a chance to dash off, but there was no escape likely.

Pikkle stepped closer, wagging a paw at her. “How would you like it if I aimed cherry stones at your bonce, marm? What I mean is, hang it all, can’t a chap scoff cherries in peace on this island?”

The squirrel opened her mouth wide and let out a long shrill call.

“Eulaliaaaaaa!”

There followed a silence. Pikkle shook his head disapprovingly. “Is that all you’ve got to say for yourself, old lady? Dearie me, I can see this conversation’s goin’ nowhere fast, wot?”

There was a rustling in the woodland at their backs. The squirrel nodded with satisfaction before speaking.

“You’ll be sorry you came to this island. It’s you who are surrounded now, not me.”

A heavy crashing in the undergrowth caused the three friends to turn round. Two badgers came thundering out of the woods, one a female as old as the squirrel, but the other was a huge male, white as driven snow and whirling a big knotted oak club. They roared as they burst into the clearing.

“Eulaliaaaaaa!”

Pikkle and Tubgutt stood openmouthed with shock, but Mara stood forward, a tiny shrew rapier in one paw, twirling a loaded sling in the other. The battle light shone in her eyes.

“I am Mara of Salamandastron! Stay out of the way, old mother. You, white one, come a step closer and I’ll slay you!”

The white badger looked for a moment as if he were going to charge forward, but Mara noted the fierceness dim suddenly from his face, and his massive paws quivered as he stood undecided.

“Get in there and fight, Urthwyte!” The old female badger stamped her paw down angrily. “Go on, she’s a mere puppy compared to you. Flatten her!”

Mara came forward lightly, poised on ready paw-pads, her neckfur bristling, fangs bared. “Aye, come on, Urthwyte. You’re a fine big beast. Let’s see if you fight as good as you growl!”