He knew as well as Jasmine did that he was taking a risk. The monsters could look up at him, and see Filli at the same time. But he was gambling on the hope that suspicion and anger would make them keep their eyes fixed on one another.
And, to his relief, he saw that his gamble had succeeded. The monsters had begun muttering together in small groups, glancing slyly at one another.
“If they were nine only, they could cut each of us into three parts and have one part each,” he shouted. “But as it is …”
“Equal shares!” shrieked Hot and Tot. “Hot and Tot say —”
Ichabod pounced upon them and knocked their heads together with a sharp crack. They fell senseless to the ground.
“Now,” he snarled. “Now there be equal shares, like you want. Now we be nine.”
The fire had begun to blaze and crackle. Smoke billowed upwards, making Lief cough. He looked sideways and saw that Filli had already succeeded in making a small hole in the net. Now he was working on enlarging it. But he needed more time.
“There is something they have forgotten, Lief,” Barda said loudly. “If we are each divided into three, the shares will still not be equal. Why, I am twice the size of Jasmine! Whoever gets a third part of her will not do well at all. Really, she should be divided in half!”
“Yes,” agreed Lief, just as loudly, ignoring Jasmine’s cries of rage. “But that would only make eight pieces, Barda. And there are nine to feed!”
He watched out of the corner of his eye as Zan, the six-legged monster, nodded thoughtfully, then swung around and clubbed his neighbor, who happened to be Fie, felling her to the ground.
Fly, furious at the attack on his twin, leaped onto Zan’s back, screeching and biting. Zan roared, lurched around, and knocked over the hairy brother on his other side, who in turn fell over the sister in front of him, stabbing himself on her horns.
And then, suddenly, they were all fighting — shrieking, biting, and bashing — crashing into the thornbushes, tumbling into the fire, rolling on the ground.
The fight went on, and on. And by the time Filli had finished his work, and the three companions had escaped from the net and climbed into the tree above, there was only one monster left standing. Ichabod.
Surrounded by the bodies of his fallen brothers and sisters, he stood by the fire, bellowing and beating his chest in triumph. Any moment he would look up and see that the net was empty, and that the food he had fought for was in the tree — with nowhere to go.
“We must take him by surprise,” whispered Jasmine, pulling her second dagger from her leggings and checking that Filli was safely on her shoulder again. “It is the only way.”
Without another word, she jumped, striking Ichabod on the back with both feet. Knocked off balance, he fell into the fire, landing with a crash and a roar.
Gathering their wits, Barda and Lief slid down the tree as quickly as they could and ran to where Jasmine was snatching up her dagger and their swords.
“Why did you wait?” she demanded, thrusting their swords at them. “Make haste!”
With Kree soaring above, they ran like the wind along the track, careless of the ruts in the road and the darkness. Behind them, Ichabod was howling in rage and pain as he crawled from the fire and began stumbling after them.
Panting, chests aching, ears straining for the sound of howls behind them, they ran on. They all knew that if Ichabod changed into a wolf or other beast, he could catch them easily. But they heard nothing.
It is possible that he cannot transform when he is injured, thought Lief. If so, we are safe. But, like his companions, he did not dare to stop or slow.
Finally they came to a place where the track crossed a shallow stream.
“I am sure that this marks the border of Thaegan’s lands,” gasped Barda. “See? There are no thornbushes on the other side. Ichabod will not follow us across.”
Legs trembling with weariness, they splashed through the cold water. On the other side of the stream the track continued, but soft, green grass and small trees grew beside it, and they could see the shapes of wildflowers.
They staggered on for a little, then turned from the track and fell down in the shelter of a grove of the small trees. Leaves whispering overhead, grass soft under their heads, they slept.
When they woke, the sun was high, and Kree was calling them. Lief stretched and yawned. His muscles were stiff and aching after the long run, and his feet were sore.
“We should have slept in turns,” Barda groaned, sitting up and easing his back. “It was dangerous to trust in our safety, so close to the border.”
“We were all tired. And Kree was watching.” Jasmine had jumped up, and was already prowling around the grove. She felt no stiffness, it seemed.
She put her hand to the rough trunk of one of the trees. Above her, leaves stirred faintly. She put her head to one side, and seemed to listen.
“The trees say that carts still use this road quite often,” she announced finally. “Heavy carts, drawn by horses. But there is nothing ahead today.”
Before starting off again, they ate a little of the bread, honey, and fruit that the Ralads had given them. Filli had his share, as well as a piece of honeycomb, his favorite treat.
Then they moved on slowly. After a time, they saw another of the signs directing them to Tom’s shop.
“I hope Tom sells something for sore feet,” muttered Lief.
“The sign says, ‘Everything for the Traveller,’” Barda said. “So no doubt he does. But we must choose only what we really need. We have little money.”
Jasmine glanced at them. She said nothing, but Lief noticed that she began to walk a little faster. Plainly, she was curious to see exactly what a shop was like.
An hour later they rounded a bend and saw, sticking up from the middle of a grove of trees, a long, jagged metal shape, like a lightning bolt. Huge metal letters stuck out from the side of the shape.
Wondering, they walked on. As they moved closer to the place they saw that the trees were in the shape of a horseshoe, clustering around the sides and back of a strange little stone building. The jagged shape supporting the metal letters plunged right into the middle of its peaked roof, as though the building were being struck by lightning.
Plainly, this was Tom’s shop, though at first glance it looked rather more like an inn than a place where things could be bought. There was a flat, cleared space between the building and the road — space enough for several carts to stop — and here and there stood great stone troughs filled with water for animals to drink. But a large shop window shone on one side of the door, and on the glass the shop owner’s name had been painted in bright red letters — arranged from top to bottom, like they were on the chimney sign and the signposts the travellers had passed.
“This Tom certainly likes to let people know his name.” Barda grinned. “Very well, then. Let us see what he has for us.”
They crossed the cleared space and peered into the shop window. It was filled with packs, hats, belts, boots, socks, waterbags, coats, ropes, pots and pans, and many, many other things, including some that Lief did not recognize. Strangely, there were no prices or labels, but right in the middle was a yellow sign.
A bell fastened to the door tinkled as they entered the shop, but no one came forward to greet them. They looked around, blinking in the gloom. The crowded room seemed very dim after the bright sunlight outside. Narrow corridors ran between shelves that rose from the floor to the low ceiling. The shelves were crammed with goods. At the far end was a dusty counter cluttered with account books, a set of scales, and what looked like a money tin. Behind the counter were more shelves, a door, and another sign: