aNow, letas see if we can spot these friends of yours,a Knuckle went on. aTheyall be making their way on foot if the logworm got your prowlgrins.a aI hope so,a said Rook, following the slaughtereras gaze out across the silvery plains, over the heads of the grazing hammelhorns.

aThatas where you came from,a he said. aThe Eastern Roost. If you look carefully, you can just see the top of the Roost Spike.a Rook nodded. The sun was deep orange now and low in the sky, casting the trees in darkness. The spike stood out like a needle point and, as he watched, a light came on at its top. Knuckleas arm swung further round.

aOver there are the Goblin Nations,a he said. aAnd there, due south, is the Foundry Glade. See how the sky is darker in that whole area? Thatas the filthy smoke constantly belching out from their factory chimneys.a Rook could see the heavy black clouds, tinged with red, far in the distance. aIt looks like a terrible place,a he observed.

aTake my advice, friend,a said Knuckle earnestly. aThe Foundry Glade is no place for the likes of us. Ten times worse than Undertown, so they say a" a place of fiery furnaces and slavesa"a aSlaves?a said Rook, shocked.

aAnd worse,a said Knuckle darkly. aNot at all like the Free Glades.a The slaughterer smiled. aNow the Free Glades are a sight to see, believe me!a aWhich way are the Free Glades?a said Rook.

Knuckle turned him round, till Rook was standing with his back to the sinking sun. aOver there,a he said. aJust beyond that ridge of ironwood trees; the most beautiful place in all the Edgelands.a aSo close?a said Rook, trembling with excitement. As he peered into the darkness, he was filled with a mixture of happiness and sadness. Overjoyed to discover that he had almost reached his destination, he had momentarily forgotten that his companions were not with him a aRook!a The voice echoed up on the swirling wind from the other side of the tower. aRook!a aMagda?a said Rook, hurrying to see. He clutched the rough wooden bal.u.s.trade and looked down. A group of ant-like slaughterers were staring up. When Rookas head appeared they all started waving and pointing and shouting at once. aCome down!a aCome here!a aYour friends aa And three individuals from the crowd were pushed forwards.

Rook cried out with joy. aMagda!a he shouted. aStob! Hekkle!a And he turned on his heels, clambered down the ladders leading on to the walkways, and finally hurried down a creaking zigzag staircase.

aRook!a Magda cried as he emerged at the bottom, and she rushed forwards to hug him, before bursting into tears. aWe a we thought wead lost you for certain,a she sobbed. aThen we saw that slaughterer swooping down aa aAnd I thought I spotted you clinging on, brave master,a said Hekkle.

aYou did,a Rook beamed and turned to Knuckle, who had followed him down. aKnuckle, here, saved my life.a Hekkle turned to him. aYou are a true friend of earth-and sky-studies,a he said.

Knuckle nodded uncertainly. Talking to a shryke clearly felt strange to him. aThanks,a he muttered. aI just did what anyone else would have done.a Magda broke away from Rook, and wrapped her arms tightly round the startled slaughterer. aYouare too modest, Knuckle!a she said. aThank you and thank you and thank you again,a she said, planting three kisses on his forehead.

The other slaughterers roared approvingly. Knuckle blushed, his normally red skin turning a deep shade of purple.

Hekkleas voice rose above the hubbub. aIt is time we left,a he said. Ignoring the protests and politely declining the offers of refreshment and a bed for the night, he raised his hands and appealed for quiet. aTonight,a he began. The slaughterers fell still. aTonight we will sup, dine and sleep in the Free Glades.a A cheer went up. And as Hekkle led his small party away, the slaughterers waved and cried out. aGood luck!a they shouted. And, aEarth and Sky be with you!a And, aDonat forget us!a Rook turned. aNever!a he shouted back. aIall never forget you! Farewell, Knuckle! Farewell!a The sun had set by now, and the colours on the horizon behind them had become muted and shrunk away to a thin, pale ribbon of light. Above their heads the stars were coming out and, as they climbed the steep ridge of ironwood trees, the first of the night creatures were already calling to one another in the darkness.

aThe Free Glades,a Rook breathed. aSo close.a aNot long now,a said Hekkle.

Though on a gentle incline, the ridge seemed to continue for ever. Each time they reached what they thought was the top, the slope continued upwards. The moon rose and shone down brightly. Rook wiped his glistening forehead. aItas further than I thought,a he said. aKnuckle made it sound soa"a a.s.shhh!a Hekkle stopped and c.o.c.ked his head to one side. aCan you hear that?a he whispered.

Rook listened. aOh, no,a he groaned as, from his right, he heard the unmistakable a" and terrifyingly familiar a" sound of hissing. aIt canat be.a aA logworm,a Magda gasped.

aIam afraid so,a Hekkle whispered nervously. aThe woods all round the pastures are infested with the brutes. The pickings are just too good.a aWhat shall we do, Hekkle?a whispered Stob.

Rook noticed that his apprentice companionas voice had lost its usual arrogant tone.

aFind a tree,a whispered Hekkle, aand climb as swiftly and silently as you can. Go, now!a They did as they were told. Quickly, noiselessly, they scaled an ironwood tree and crouched in its huge branches, like ratbirds, beneath their cloaks of nightspider-silk. The hissing grew louder as the logworm approached, and a flurry of leaves rose up in the air. The next moment its great slavering snout poked out from between the trees; its eyes and teeth glinted in the moonlight.

They held their breath and remained as still as their pounding hearts and trembling bodies would allow. Rook willed the creature to go.

Please, please, please a All at once it grew darker as a cloud fell across the moon. Rook glanced down. Something was flapping past.

aSnickets!a he gasped.

aSo thatas what theyare called,a he heard Stob mutter beside him.

The logworm hissed louder, and turned in their direction. Rook shrank back. Below them, the whirring swarm of snickets was spiralling up through the darkness like a great arrow-head. As it approached, the moon burst forth again and shone down brightly on the countless silver-black beating wings. The snickets were heading straight for them.

Rook groaned. If the logworm didnat get them, the snickets would. And when they were so close to their journeyas end a All at once and with no warning, the logworm swerved round to face the swarm. Rook gasped as the logworm convulsed. The snickets were being sucked up into the vast, dark tunnel of the logworm.

It writhed and wriggled, sucking in more and more of the little creatures, its high-pitched hiss sounding like a great kettle letting off steam. As the last of the swarm disappeared inside the logworm, Rook turned to Hekkle.

aItas destroyed them all,a he said.

aOn the contrary, brave master,a said Hekkle. aThings in the Deepwoods are seldom what they seem.a aButa"a Rook began.

Just then the logworm let out a deafening cry of pain. The sound echoed round the trees, making the leaves tremble, and Rook felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. As he watched, transfixed, the entire log-worm seemed to disappear before his eyes. The snickets were consuming it from within, each and every sc.r.a.p! For a moment the vast swarm resembled the great hovering log it had just devoured. Then, as if at some unseen signal, the snickets twisted round in the air a" no longer together, but singly and in pairs a" and fluttered off in all directions.

Legs shaking, Rook climbed down from the ironwood tree. aI a I donat understand,a he said. aWhy did the swarm disperse like that?a Hekkle clambered down and stood beside Rook. aTheir feeding frenzy is over,a he said. aThey will only swarm again when their hunger once more drives them to it.a He laughed humourlessly aNow it is the turn of other creatures to feed,a he said. aMany of their number will be picked off by predators.a Rook shook his head in wonder. Head read so much about the delicate balance of life in the Deepwoods, about the constant battle between predators and their prey. Now he was experiencing it first hand. It was fascinating how it all slotted together. How no single creature seemed ever to get the upper hand. How victor became victim and victim became victor, and the whole violent yet intricate process continued for ever and ever.

He thought of the treatise that lay ahead, and the banderbears he wanted to study. They, at least, were gentle creatures. n.o.ble. Humble. Loyal. At least, that was what everyone believed a" even Varis Lodd. Soon he wanted to find out for himself a aCome, brave friends,a said Hekkle, setting off up the ridge once more. aWeare almost there.a Stob and Magda followed. Rook brought up the rear, his heart thumping with expectation. As they approached the brow, he almost expected it to give way to yet another slope, and another one beyond that.

This time, however, they really had reached the top. The ground fell away before them, and in front a" spread out in all their magnificence a" were the Free Glades. To their right was a pool of honey-coloured lamplight. To their left, a flickering circle of burning torches, and beyond that, the low red glow of furnaces. Whilst far in the distance, shimmering like silver beneath the moon, were three lakes. In the centre of the largest one, twinkling brightly, was a tall, spired building, bedecked with coloured lights. It was there that, for the months of study which lay ahead, they were to stay.

aLake Landing!a said Rook, pointing. aOur new home.a

Lake Landing

pirits soaring, Rook, Magda and Stob raced down the steep incline, with Hekkle flapping behind them, clucking noisily. aCareful, brave masters!a he called out breathlessly. aNot so fast, brave mistress!a They emerged from the trees onto a track a" flattened and hardened by the pa.s.sing of countless booted feet and wooden wheels a" and there in front of them, like some magnificent jewel-encrusted tapestry, were the glades themselves.

Rookas pulse quickened as he looked round in wonder. In the moonlight, the diverse dwelling places of the numerous Free Glade denizens were picked out in luminous silver and long, sharp shadows. The three apprentices stopped and stared. The air was filled with smells and sounds. The tang of leather, the odour of stale beer, the aromatic scent of spices and herbs. And Rook could hear the buzz of distant voices a" joyful voices, and singing and laughter. Hekkle bustled up behind them and tried to catch his breath. The feathers on his neck stood up in a ragged ruff and his thin pointed beak quivered. aOver there, thatas where the webfoot goblins live.a He nodded towards a group of huts floating on shimmering marshland to their left. aGreat eel-fishers,a he said, abut not too particular in their personal habits. And those,a he said, pointing over his right shoulder to a tall, steep, pockmarked hill, aare the cloddertrog caves. Now, theyare really a sight to see. They say whole clans live in a single cave together; sometimes hundreds of thema"a All at once there was a clatter of hoofs behind them. They turned to see two gnokgoblins on prowlgrins approaching. Both the goblins and their mounts wore tooled-leather armour; the gnokgoblins carried long ironwood lances and large crescent-shaped shields. One stopped and, standing tall in his saddle, scanned the area. The other rode towards them.

aAdvance and identify yourselves,a he barked.

Hekkle stepped forwards and produced the bloodoak-tooth medallion, which he held up. aFriends of Earth and Sky,a he said.

Rook and the others revealed their medallions, too. The guard nodded. Up close, Rook noticed that the burnished leather of his armour was pitted and scratched with the scars of battle.

Just then a third guard appeared. aHey, Glock, Steg,a he shouted. aMarauders have been sighted up in the Northern Fringes. Weare needed there at once.a The guard turned back to Hekkle and his three charges. aPa.s.s, friends,a he said, aand fare you well.a He tugged the reins, kicked hard, and galloped off after the others, his prowlgrin throwing up clods of earth with each bound.

aThe Free Glades are beautiful and peaceful, brave friends,a said Hekkle. aBut many a brave soul has had to lay down his life to keep them that way. Come, let us continue to Lake Landing.a They walked down a broad set of steps lit by huge, floating lanterns, and pa.s.sed by a towering copse of dark trees, immense against the slate-grey sky.

aWho lives there?a said Rook.

aWaifs,a answered Hekkle. aThat is Waif Glen. Only the invited may go there, for the ways of waifs are secretive and mysterious, even here in the Free Glades.a aAnd whatas that?a said Rook excitedly, turning to his right.

In the distance, rows of lights illuminated narrow streets and the windows of cl.u.s.ters of ornate buildings a" some broad and squat with spreading roofs; others tall, thin and topped with elegant towers.

Hekkle turned. aThat, brave master, is New Undertown. Youall find it very different from the old one. There is a welcome to be found for all in New Undertown a" a hearty meal, and a free hammock in the hive-huts for those who want it.a aHive-huts?a said Rook excitedly. aYou mean those buildings over there a" the ones that look like helmets?a aThatas right, brave master, theyarea"a Hekkle began.

aAnd what in Earth and Skyas name is that called?a said Rook, pointing at the tall, angular building with latticed walls and a high spire which dominated New Undertown.

aItas the Lufwood Tower, brave master,a said Hekkle. aItas like Vox Verlixas palace in Old Undertown a" except all are free to go there and speak their minds in its meeting chamber.a aCan we visit the waifs? And the hive-huts?a said Rook eagerly. aAnd the Lufwood Tower?a aOh, Master Rook!a Hekkle laughed and held up his hands in submission. aEnough! Enough! Thereall be time for all that, but first we must get to Lake Landing.a Rook blushed. aIam sorry,a he said. aItas just all so a so aa He swung his arms round in a wide arc. aSo aa aGet a move on!a said Stob grumpily. aIam tired, and so is Magda.a Magda shrugged and smiled, but Rook noticed the dark rings under her eyes.

aBelieve me,a said Hekkle, athe best is still to come.a He took Rook by the hand. aCome, brave master.a They continued past Waif Glen, and the Leadwood Copse beyond. Behind them, the sounds of New Undertown receded and, as the moon rose higher in the indigo sky, the air grew strangely still.

Rookas eyes darted round a" but he kept his questions to himself. There were flowers with huge white blooms, swaying in the silvery light. There were black and yellow birds in the branches, chirruping to the moon. The gra.s.s hissed. The path crunched. They came to an archway of sweet-scented woodjasmine, stepped through and a aOh, my!a gasped Rook.

Before them lay a lake. It was vast and still, and, like a giant mirror, reflected everything in it perfectly. Birds skimming its surface. The trees fringing its banks. And the huge moon, shining down out of the inky sky so brightly.

On a broad platform at the centre of the lake a" wreathed in mist and twinkling with a thousand lanterns a" was a tall, sprawling building, jagged against the sky. It had pointed turrets, jutting walkways, arch-windowed walls and long, sloping roofs.

Rook shook his head in amazement. aIave never seen anywhere so beautiful,a he said softly. aEven in my dreams.a aThe Lake Landing Academy,a said Hekkle. aThe jewel of the Free Glades, and beacon of hope to all who love and value freedom.a But no-one was listening to the shryke guideas words any more. One after the other, as if in a trance, the three young apprentices walked slowly down to the wateras edge and climbed onto the long narrow jetty which crossed the lake to the landing of vast lufwood planks.

As Rook stepped onto the great central platform, something caught his eye and he looked up to see a small skycraft with a gleaming prow and snow-white billowing sails approaching. His heart skipped a beat. It was the most beautiful sight yet. The moonlight played on the ornately carved figurehead and sleek curves of the skycraftas body. The dark greens and browns of the young pilotas flight-suit contrasted with the warm gold of his wooden arm-plates and leg-guards. The skycraftas sails seemed to flow through the night air like liquid silver as it circled the landing. It was joined silently by another craft, and then another, and another.

One by one, they swooped down out of the sky in perfect formation, before touching down lightly on the landing-stage, side by side. Rook stared at the four young apprentices as they climbed down from their craft, and shook his head in awe.

aIall never be able to fly that well,a he said.

aYes, you will, brave master,a said Hekkle, coming up behind him. aTrust me. Youare not the first young apprentice whoas stood awestruck on Lake Landing, full of self-doubt. Believe me, though, youall learn.a aButa"a Rook began.

Hekkle clacked his beak softly. aNo abuts,a brave master. From the first moment I clapped eyes on you, back in the Eastern Roost, I knew you were special. Sky-spirit and earth-sense, I call it.a Rook blushed deep pink.

aTheyall teach you well here at Lake Landing, but youave got something already a" something that no amount of teaching can give you. Always remember that.a Rook smiled awkwardly. aThank you, Hekkle,a he said. aThank you for everything. Iall miss you aa aWelcome!a came a rather shrill voice from the far side of the landing. aThe new apprentices, is it? My, my, but you look fit to drop! Yes, yes, you certainly do, and no mistake!a Rook turned to see a small, shabbily dressed gnokgoblin with a wrinkled face and stubby legs striding towards Stob and Magda, one hand clutching his robes, the other pressed against his heart in greeting. Rook went over to join them.

Stob had already taken control. aAh, my good fellow,a he said. aSee to our bags, would you, and then take us to the High Master of Lake Landing. I think heall be interested to see us.a aIndeed!a said the gnokgoblin, his face crumpling with amus.e.m.e.nt. He made no move towards the bags. aInterested to see you, yes, indeed!a Stob frowned. aWell?a he said imperiously.

Hekkle turned to him. aI donat think you quite understand, brave master,a he began.

aItas all right,a said Rook awkwardly, moving forwards. aWe can carry our own bags. After all, weave carried them this far.a aLeave them, Rook,a said Stob sharply. aA fine place this is! Upstart servants who refuse to do as theyare told. Wait till the High Master hears of this!a aI think,a said Hekkle quietly, ahe just has.a aStay out of this, Hekkle,a said Stob rudely, before rounding on the smiling gnokgoblin. aNow, tell me your name this instant, you impudent wretch!a Just then, as the gnokgoblin lowered his hands, Rook noticed the gold chain around his neck, glinting from beneath the simple robes. Each of the heavy links was in the shape of twisted leaves and feathers.

aWhy, certainly, my fine, young and rather over-tired apprentice the gnokgoblin said. aI am Parsimmon, High Master of Lake Landing.a Stob turned a bright shade of crimson. aI a I aa he stuttered.

But the High Master waved his apologies aside. aYou must be tired and hungry, all of you,a he said. aCome inside and Iall show you your sleeping cabins. Then Iall take you to the upper refectory. There is food and drink waiting and aa He looked up. aBut what have we here? I was expecting only three, indeed I was. And yet, and yet aa Stob, Magda and Rook turned to see a wiry figure with close-cropped hair crossing the walkway towards them. aHeas not with us, Your Most Highness, sir,a said Stob, regaining the power of speech.

Parsimmon beckoned to the figure to approach. aWelcome, welcome,a he said genially. aAnd who might you be?a aXanth,a said the youth. He rubbed his hand over his scalp. aXanth Filatine. Sole survivor from the latest group of apprentices to set forth from the Great Storm Chamber Librarya He pulled a bloodoak-tooth pendant from his tattered gown and thrust it forward defiantly.

Rook noticed the youthas hands shaking. He frowned. There was something about this young apprentice that made him feel uneasy.

aThey sent another group after us?a said Stob suspiciously. aSo soon?a Xanth nodded. aWord came back that youad been lost in a shryke raid. The professors decided to despatch a second contingent of apprentices immediatelya Stob humphed.

aIam sure the professors know what theyare doing,a said Hekkle.

aSo, what happened to the others?a Stob demanded of the youth.

Xanth shook his head sadly. aDead,a he said quietly. aAll dead.a He swallowed noisily with choking emotion. aIam the only one who made it.a Rook listened closely. Perhaps he had been too harsh.

aBron Turnstone,a Xanth went on, his voice cracking with emotion. aIgnis Gimlet. And our brave woodtroll guide, Rufus Snetterbark. A logworm got them all a.a aI donat know those names,a said Parsimmon, abut it is always a terrible tragedy to lose any of our brave apprentices. And as you can see,a he said, nodding towards Rook and the others, athis contingent did make it a" which makes the losses all the more tragica Xanth nodded silently and lowered his head. Tears welled up in his eyes.

aBut you made it, Xanth Filatine,a said Parsimmon kindly. aThe journey to the Free Glades is never an easy one. Few are lucky enough to get through. And those who do aa He clapped the four new arrivals re a.s.suringly on the shoulder. aYou are very precious to us. We will teach you everything we know, and send you off on your treatise-voyage, so that you may add to our deepening knowledge of the Edge.a His eyes sparkled brightly. aYes, yes,a he said. aVery precious indeed.a

The Woodtroll Workshop

ad.a.m.n and blast!a Rook shouted, and sucked at his painfully throbbing thumb.

Stob chuckled. aA fine way for a young scholar to talk,a he said.

aAnother splinter?a came Magdaas sympathetic voice. She was standing by her own workbench.

aYes,a said Rook, wearily inspecting his hands. Apart from the jagged splinter a" which he managed to pull from his thumb with his teeth a" his hands were grazed, scarred and bruised black and blue. He looked bleakly at the huge sumpwood log clamped into the vise before him. Despite weeks of work, what should by now have been an elegant skycraft prow was still no more than a shapeless lump. aIall never get the hang of this,a he muttered miserably.

Around them, the timber yards hummed with activity. Convoys of tall-sided log-carts swayed past the long, thatched woodsheds, the musky odour of the sweating hammelhorns pulling them mixing with the peppery scent of sawdust. Cloddertrog wagoneers shouted down to the woodtroll carpenters, while groups of woodtroll tree-fellers queued good-naturedly at the huge, ever-busy grindstones to sharpen their axes. Rook gazed out of the open-sided workshop at the cl.u.s.ter of woodtroll villages in the distance and let out a deep sigh.

aDonat give up,a said Magda.

Rook glanced over towards his friend. Her own prow was coming along beautifully. The wood was smooth and the figurehead was slowly taking on the appearance of a delicate woodmoth, with its bulging eyes and coiled feelers. Stob, too, had created something recognizable. A hammelhorn, stolid and lifelike. He was using a fine rasp to shape the long, curling horns. While Xanth a" who was at his usual workbench apart from the others at the far end of the thatched workshop a" was the farthest advanced of them all. With its long, crumpled snout and swept-back wings, the ratbird he had carved from the sumpwood was almost complete.

Oakley Gruffbark, the woodtroll master, his thick orange hair twisted into the traditional woodtroll tufts, stood beside him, running his leathery hands over the wood and inspecting the workmanship closely. aWell, youngaun, itas an unusual creature to carve, and thatas the truth,a he was saying. aYet it seems to come from the heart aa Stob snorted. aA ratbird,a Rook heard him muttering scornfully. aI wonder what that says about his heart?a Rook said nothing. Head distrusted Xanth at first, but the young apprentice kept himself to himself and, with his haunted-looking eyes and polite, quiet voice, Rook found it hard to dislike him. At least, Rook thought, Xanth had thought of something to carve. He picked up a plane from the workbench and attacked the lump of wood with a sudden fury. The air filled with muttered oaths, and a flurry of pale wood-shavings.

aStupid! a Blasted! a Accursed!a aNo, no, no! Thatall never do, Master Rook, indeed it wonat!a came Gruffbarkas urgent voice as he hurried over to his bench. He s.n.a.t.c.hed the plane away. aYou must feel your wood, Master Rook,a he said. aKnow it. Study it intimately, until you are familiar with every mark of its swirling grain, with the intricate pattern of knots, with the natural curve of its sweeping shape.a He paused. aOnly then will you find the creature hiding within aa Rook looked up angrily, his eyes filling with tears. aBut I canat!a he said. aThereas nothing there!a Oakley shook his tufted head sympathetically. aAll those dreams of flying Iave had, and Iam never even going to leave this workshop! Itas hopeless! Useless! And so am I!a The woodtrollas face creased into a warm smile. He fixed the youth with his deep, dark eyes and took his hands in his own. aBut there is something there, Rook,a he said patiently. aOpen your ears and your eyes, and let the wood speak to you.a Rook shook his head mutely. The words meant nothing to him.

aItas getting late, and youare tired, youngaun,a said Oakley. He clapped his hands together. aCla.s.s dismissed.a Rook turned and walked stiffly away. Outside, the parties of axe-carrying fellers and teams of carpenters were wandering out of the timber yards and off down the woodtroll paths towards their villages a" and supper. Small groups pa.s.sed him by, laughing and joking in the evening twilight glow. Magda caught him up and put her arm round his shoulders. aYouall feel better after supper,a she said. aI think itas your favourite tonight. Tilder stew.a Magda was right on both counts. It was tilder stew, which was Rookas favourite. The upper refectory was busy tonight. Several visiting professors sat at the central table. A huge translucent spindlebug a" the stew clearly visible digesting in his stomach a" was in conversation with a tiny waif, her large ears flapping delicately as she ate. Parsimmon sat listening indulgently, his usual supper of barkbread and water untouched in front of him.

Rook, too, had little appet.i.te. He stirred at the stew absent-mindedly, the spoon never leaving the bowl. He looked round at the others on the circular outer table, all tucking in hungrily. There were Magda and Stob, sharing a joke; and groups of other apprentices, loud and swaggering, at different stages in their learning; and Xanth, alone as usual, watching everything but saying nothing.

Rook sighed. If he couldnat even carve his prow, then how would he ever learn to fly?

A painful lump rose in his throat, which he could not swallow away. His eyes smarted and watered. He pushed the bowl back, climbed from the bench and quietly left the refectory. With the door closed behind him, he clambered down the circular staircase of the Academy Tower, pa.s.sing the round doors of the sleeping cabins as he went, and on through the dark wooden colonnades where the skycraft lessons took place.

At the edge of the landing platform Rook stared out across the dark waters of the lake, his heart weary. The air was thick and heavy, smudging the stars and sliver of new moon, and m.u.f.fling the night sounds coming from the Deepwoods beyond. Black, forbidding stormclouds rolled in from the north-west, making the air darker, denser a" and charging it with a crackling force that made Rookas skin tingle.

The sky splintered and flashed as fine tendrils of lightning spread out across the darkness; the water shimmered with a pale green phosph.o.r.escence and, out of the corner of his eye, Rook caught sight of something darting across the lake. He couldnat quite make it out. The air seemed as heavy as a liquid and the lake blacker than it had ever looked before.

There it was again, a flash of yellow and red. And a perfect circular ripple spread out across the dark surface of the lake, growing in front of Rookas eyes, larger and larger, before fading away.

Suddenly, close by, there was the hum of swiftly beating wings a" and Rook saw it. A large, insect-like creature with an angular head and a long, slender body striped yellow and red. As he watched, it swooped and dived, sipping at the luminous water before looping back up into the air. Another perfect ripple spread out.

Rook was entranced. His heart soared and bubbled. The little creature was so graceful, so elegant a" so perfect.

And as he stared, unblinking, it was as though he too were flying beside it, darting down to the surface of the water and soaring back up again. His stomach turned somersaults. His head spun. He opened his mouth, and laughed and laughed and laughed a The following morning, after a deep dreamless sleep, Rook skipped breakfast and hurried to the timber yards before the others had even emerged from their sleeping cabins. He hugged the great slab of wood.

aPerfect,a he whispered, and his body tingled with the feelings of the previous evening.

With mallet and chisel, Rook began to shape the wood. Although it was still dark, he worked swiftly and con fidently, and without a break. And each time when, for a moment, he was unsure what to do next, he would close his eyes and stroke the wood gently, for Oakley Gruffbark was right. The wood was telling him what to do.