Alex swallowed with difficulty, then forced himself to reach down into the dead leaves. His hand closed around something jagged. When he brought it out, he was clutching a flier.

The little machine seemed lifeless. A purple-and-black ribbon was knotted tightly around it. Taking care to avoid its razor-edged wings, he warily turned the robot over. The ribbon held small sharp scissors strapped to it.

“Yes, bravo, well done,” Zia called. “Now, see this?”

Alex squinted up and froze. Something was coming over the edge of the well, slithering oddly down the wall. After a moment, he realized she was lowering a rope ladder. When the bottom rung was around ten feet above, it halted.

“Now. The Soaring Spirit is all prepared, receptive and ready just for you.”

“What?”

“Sorry. Let met translate into rabbit. Ahem: in your tiny right paw, you clutch a Soaring Spirit. You have seen them before. This device has been especially prepared for your use, and your use alone. Tuned to the bunny wavelength. It’s all ready for you, it’s waiting. Treat it carefully, because we’re getting to the stage that we don’t have many left. Not had time to get more ready.

“If you examine it closely, you will find a hinged panel on one side. You can see in the dim, can’t you, bright eyes? All the carrots you eat? You will further notice I have loaned you my nail scissors, which I expect returned in the same immaculate condition, although I will of course have to have them sterilized. Now, to prime the Soaring Spirit and thus commence commune, you must give something of yourself. As we are only trying teensy-tiny wee baby steps, a little snip of your fur will suffice.”

“I—I don’t understand . . .”

“Give us strength,” Zia muttered. “Cut some hair off and stick it in the machine.”

“But . . .”

“I see.” She sighed theatrically. “We need everything spelled out. Righto. You see the ladder, above, yes? And you have worked out that it’s too far above for your wittle wabbity arms to weach, even with a vewy, vewy big hop? Well. Should it turn out that you are able to access the Soaring Spirit, you can send it up to hook the ladder and drag it down to you.”

Alex looked dumbly from the shadow above to the macabre machine in his hand.

“But I can’t,” he managed. “I don’t know—”

“Oh, I sympathize, Flopsy, believe me.” Zia yawned. “Far as I’m concerned, odds against you being able to do it are a zillion to none. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t be up at the crack of dawn wasting my precious time. But don’t worry if you can’t. We won’t bother you anymore, and you can just curl up and have a nice big sleep in your cozy burrow.”