He shook himself free of the nausea that had gripped him and forced himself to think. They were coming up the same path that the animals had followed yesterday, and so they would probably be at the cottage in a very short while. They must leave now. Quietly he flew out of the hawthorn and, keeping low so that he was flying just above the tops of the heather and bracken, he sped back up the hill, keeping the path in sight but flying some distance away from it so that he would be less likely to be spotted. In fact he was soon out of sight of the Urkku although he could still hear the constant low murmur of their voices and the steady drum of marching feet along the ground.
Fortunately the wind was behind him and it seemed no time at all before the little cottage loomed up out of the darkness. The immense peacefulness of the scene with its quietly slumbering croft and the gentle waving of the tall grasses in the wind contrasted jarringly with the turmoil in Warrigal’s mind and he had to stop on the wall outside and gather his thoughts. It was almost as if he had dreamt the whole thing. He flew back in through the open window and inside everything was exactly as he had left it with Brock and the old man still snoring contentedly. His first task was to wake everyone, so he flew up to the top of the Welsh dresser and called loudly. There were grunts and mumbles from the sleepers and Brock turned over but no one woke up so he called again, a piercing cry so loud that the plates rattled and the window-panes vibrated. This time Brock sat bolt upright as did Perryfoot; their eyes blinking and the hackles raised on their backs. They had heard Warrigal’s first Toowitt-Toowoo through a mist of sleepy dreams about Silver Wood but the second had been full of such intensity that it had shattered the dream and left them awake and frightened. Warrigal flew down.
‘We’ve got to leave now,’ he said. ‘I’ve just been outside and seen a whole mob of Urkku coming up the hill. I’m certain they’re coming here. Come on, rouse yourselves. Ah, good, the Eldron are awake,’ he added, looking over to the cushions where Jim and Ivy were yawning and rubbing their eyes.
‘What’s to do?’ said Jim. He looked at the clock on the wall. ‘Half past three,’ he said. ‘Oh dear, what a time. Do you want to go out? I left the window open for you,’ he said, looking at Warrigal, ‘but we couldn’t leave the door open for you, Brock.’
Warrigal had flown over the windowsill and kept looking at Jim and then outside in an attempt to explain to the old man the danger that was coming up the hill.
‘Let’s have a light on,’ said Ivy, and she found the box of matches which she had left by the bed on the floor and lit a candle.
‘I think he’s trying to tell us something, ’ she said, seeing the owl on the sill. ‘We’ll have to wake up Nab and Beth.’
There was no need, for just then the bedroom door opened and they came in.
‘Warrigal,’ said Beth. ‘Was that you? What is it?’
Quickly the owl described what he had seen. When he had finished Beth repeated it to the old couple.
‘You must go now,’ said Jim. ‘It seems they know you’re here. I think perhaps they knew all along; I thought my story was accepted a bit too easily. They just wanted time to organize themselves.’
‘You must come with us then,’ said Beth. ‘If they know you’ve hidden us you’ll be in some danger, won’t you?’
Jim laughed. ‘Don’t worry about us,' he said, ‘but thank you. Now listen; there are things you ought to know about what’s been going on since you left home, Beth. You’ll have to tell Nab in his language, when you’ve both gone. There’s a lot that’s been happening that folk like Ivy and me don’t really understand so I can only tell you what we know and what we’ve heard in the village and so on. Anyway, it seems that our world, the human world, Beth, is about to collapse. The countries are all at war with one another and no one trusts anyone else. Everything is in short supply so they’re all fighting for what little is left. The rivers are dirty and stagnant, fish are dying in the sea and the crops won’t grow. It’s every man for himself, Beth. Even the police have long since stopped being able to control things; in fact they hardly even exist any more and the ones there are, are worse than useless. We’re quite lucky up here because we can grow most of what we need and we keep out of the way but it’s been terrible in the towns. And then, to make everything worse, about six months ago a terrible disease began to spread throughout the world. It started here, so they say, and was carried overseas so that now it’s everywhere. Thousands have died and those that are left scrabble over what little there is. How it started no one really knows but the rumour, and the story which the authorities put out, is that it came from you, the five of you, and that it is you who are spreading it around the country. That’s why they’re after you. There’ve been patrols out everywhere looking, spurred on by fanatical leaders who have been killing all the animals like you that they’ve seen in the hope that in the end they’ll get you. They’ve burnt great areas of the countryside in the hope of containing the disease, and the bodies of those who’ve died along with those of the animals they’ve killed, are burnt to try and stop it spreading. Fire, they think, kills the germs, and in any case nobody will dig the graves. So you see there’s not only war between countries; this disease has meant that there is virtual civil war in each country as well.’
Jim stopped talking and listened. Carried on the wind they could hear, outside in the distance, the tramping of the column coming up across the moors. Beth sat silent on one of the chairs by the dining table; unable to take in or even begin to comprehend all that she had just heard. She shook with fear; suddenly the night seemed very cold and she began to shiver.
‘But you,’ she said. ‘Why did you let us in and help us if we are the carriers of this plague?’ She began to cry and she buried her face in her hands. Jim put his arm round her gently.
‘Come on, don’t cry. There are many who don’t believe it; even in these parts, that we know of, and over the whole world there must be many more. Before the disease started, they were messing around a lot, experimenting with different kinds of weapons; germ warfare and so on. We’ve always thought that something went wrong at one of the places where this research was being done but of course no one will admit it and they’ve blamed it on you. You are the scapegoats. They may not even know anything has gone wrong themselves and so they really believe you are the cause. I don’t know.’ He paused again. ‘Listen, Beth, you must all go now. While there’s still time. The place that you want, I think, is what we call Rengoll’s Tor. There’s an old legend that I heard from my grandfather that the mountain elves live there. Follow the path straight up; it cuts through a cleft between two large hills at the top and then straight ahead you’ll see, some way ahead but still easily spotted, a strange collection of large rocks leaning against one another and sticking out of the earth at odd angles. It’s on top of a large mound and to get to it, it’s about half a day’s walk through rough moorland country, but it’s quite flat so you’ve not got much more climbing to do. Come on; you must go out the back way. There’s less chance of being seen.’
‘Here,’ said Ivy, ‘take this; and think of us when you look at it.' She took off a beautiful little gold ring with a deep green stone set in the top, which Beth had noticed and admired when they had been cooking last night’s meal. ‘And here is something for the journey,’ she added, passing Nab a bag full of sandwiches and fruit. ‘I packed it last night, ready for this morning.’