As it had lain hidden amongst the pine needles, the whitish spots marking the snakes back reflected the dim moonlight back up at him, giving away the adder's presence.
Darkburst had approached the snake cautiously, knowing the danger. It reared up at him, fangs extended ready to strike. Twisting to one side, Darkburst darted forward, seizing the snake just below its head, biting down hard. The snake's tail whipped violently back and forth as it died, but he brought its suffering to a quick end with a flick of his head.
The unexpected meal temporally filled the void gnawing away at Darkburst's belly, but all too soon he felt hungry again. Locating food in the pine forest had become a never-ending struggle.
Darkburst's constant hunger was making him light-headed and he found it harder to concentrate, his thoughts constantly straying as he walked along.
What was he doing here in this gloomy place where the moon never shone? Why were the trees packed so tightly together, blocking out the sky?
Shaking his head, Darkburst tried to focus his thoughts. He was searching for something. Yes that was it. He was searching for something. But for what?
Suddenly the tree nearest to him seemed to shift, and with a jump that brought it right next to him, lunged forward, towering right over him, threatening to engulf him with its branches.
Darkburst began to panic, looking about wildly, desperately searching for a way out of the forest, but seeing only trees.
Tree, upon tree, upon tree, upon tree, as though they were growing from each others trunks, like some gigantic shrub which had suddenly sprouted thousands of claws, reaching out for him with wildly rattling branches.
Closing his eyes the frightened badger shook his head, taking deep breaths to steady himself.
He opened his eyes again, and there ranked before him in their thousands, the trees stretched away for as far as the eye could see. Darkburst's world had condensed into a swirling kaleidoscope of shifting tree trunks.
He broke and ran, swerving between the trunks when he saw them, bouncing off them when he didn't. Onwards he ran, the pine needles beneath his feet swirling about his belly as he kicked them high.
Gaining the top of a rise he raced down the far side, eyes wide, lips pulled back across his teeth in terror.
In his panic the young boar saw nothing, constantly banging his sensitive snout and bruising his body. Then tripping on a root he twisted sideways, instinctively tucking his head into his flank to protect it.
He landed heavily, with a thump that forced the last of his breath from his lungs, but it shook some sense into him and his panic subsided a little.
What was he doing? Why was he running like this, like some crazed youngster being chased by a rabid dog?
Then he remembered. The trees had appeared to reach out for him, to want to hold him in an inescapable embrace. But that couldn't be, trees didn't move.
It was almost as though they had come alive and were trying to walk!
Darkburst span around, trying to catch a tree moving, but they stood quite still– tall and majestic, as though mocking him.
He span around again, then again, chasing his tail until he could spin no longer, and when he finally stopped, his senses continued to reel, causing him to stagger from side to side.
Throwing his head back, Darkburst shouted his frustration at the trees, imploring them to give up their secret, to show him where Boddaert's Magic lay. But they studiously ignored him, standing silently aloof in their dark broodiness, showing that his search held no importance for them.
Darkburst's thoughts continued to swirl round and around, and he continued to swirl with them. Back and forth his body swayed, faster and faster, his flexible trunk whipping violently in the wind. Round and around, until his thin roots were torn from the ground. Round and around, until he crashed to the earth with a force that knocked him senseless.
While he lay on the ground moaning, the grass seemed to writhe beneath him, bearing him upwards off the ground. Then his senses swirled and his vision dimmed, the darkness surrounding him becoming deeper.
When Darkburst finally regained consciousness he felt weak and knew that if he didn't find some nourishment quickly he would never find his way out of this confusing place.
As he staggered to his feet, a movement caught his attention. It was a pine marten, running up the trunk of a nearby tree, its body undulating as it moved over the rough surface. He watched the animal's fluid movements, noting how its prominent eyes flicked back and forth in a constant search for danger.
Darkburst knew that pine martens sometimes reared their young in discarded crow's nests, so it was probable that this female was on her way to feed her kittens. Digging his strong claws into the rough bark, he took a deep breath and began to stealthily follow the pine marten's musky scent.
As a cub, one of Darkburst's favourite pastimes had been tree climbing, and he now put that experience to good use. Wrinkling his snout in concentration as he scaled the trunk, knowing this was the easy part, getting back down again was always a lot harder. Pushing the thought from his mind he gave his full attention to the task in front of him.
When Darkburst finally reached the crow's nest, which was securely tucked into a fork of the tree, a ferocious pine marten faced him. Intent on protecting her young, she hissed angrily, flattening her broad, rounded ears against her skull. Then moving forward, she arched her slender body protectively over her kittens, her lips pulled back over her teeth.
Moving quickly Darkburst lunged forward with his paw, flipping the nest from the branch. The pine marten and her three kittens, were sent spinning from the tree, tumbling to the ground far below.
Darkburst realised that some of the kittens might survive the fall, but with any luck at least one would be waiting for him when he finally made it back down the tree.
*
Darkburst studied the rippling reflection of the moon in the dark waters of Migaro Lake. It shone back up at him like a single large shimmering eye.
Gazing at the reflection, his eyes widened in wonder as the silvery light coalesced into an image of his mother's face. Darkburst held his breath, leaning closer for a better view. His heart went out to her, she looked so weary and forlorn.
Reaching out, he gently touched the surface of the water with the tip of one claw, as though caressing his mother's face. At his touch the likeness disintegrated, expanding outwards into ever widening ripples.
Sighing heavily Darkburst shook off the feeling of tiredness that had suddenly overcome him, turned away from the lake and began eating the hedgehog that he'd killed earlier.
It was calm and the churring call of a nightjar floated to Darkburst through the tall pine trees, which were so densely packed together that little life survived beneath their crowded canopy. The earth was covered in a deep bed of dead pine needles, adding to his feeling of melancholy.
Darkburst found a small pool of water in a nearby hollow and took a deep swallow. Hunger sated and thirst slaked, the young badger moved his body around in a circle a few times, until he had cleared a depression in the pine needles.
Having journeyed such a long distance since leaving the safe confines of Brightness's sett, he felt totally worn out. He curled up on the forest floor, closed his eyes and instantly fell into an exhausted sleep, during which he dreamt of monsters.
*
On his journey to Migaro Lake, Darkburst had come upon the track where the monsters roared and chased each other, but because it was the sun-cycle, he hadn't realised that these were the same stars that slashed their bright lights across the sky in his vision.
Frightened by the noise and stench the monsters made, he gave the track a wide berth, paralleling it at a safe distance.
The young boar followed the track until he eventually found a narrow culvert which led underneath it. Waddling his way through the chilly water that lay belly-deep on the muddy floor, he'd emerged on the far side, cold and wet but triumphant.
*
Darkburst
stirred in his sleep, the short whiskers on his snout quivering, his feet twitching slightly. He growled quietly, his lips drawing back across his teeth.
He was dreaming, but he quickly settled again, his growls giving way to long, shallow breaths. The thick canopy far above him allowed little light to penetrate to the forest floor, so the hollow in which he lay remained shaded and dark.
As he slept, he continued to dream.
Dreams of monsters. Dreams of his search for Boddaert's Magic. Dreams of Grindel and his promises. Dreams of his mother.
*
Awaking from his sleep, Darkburst stretched languidly, shaking the knots from his muscles. Getting to his feet, he looked around, deciding that he would leave this confusing wood. There was no point in continuing with the useless search, he would find nothing here.
But first he needed food. Perhaps he should go back and check the remains of the crow's nest. He might have missed one of the pine marten's kittens.
A short while later he was raking through the remains of the nest, grunting his disappointment when his search proved fruitless, but as he turned from the debris, a glint caught his eye– something down in the bottom of the nest twinkling up at him.
Whatever it was had been used as a foundation on which to build the nest and was woven into the very fabric itself. Curiosity aroused, Darkburst picked at the mixture of twigs and grasses until he was able to free the object entangled there. It dropped clear, bouncing onto the forest floor, where it rolled in an ever decreasing circle until finally dropping onto its side, hardly disturbing the pine needles littering the ground.
The world suddenly tilted and Darkburst's mind reeled, his eyes widening in awe, every hair on his body standing erect.
There, lying at his feet, was the very object he'd been searching for all this time.
The legendary Circle of Claws!
Darkburst stood transfixed before the hallowed object for a long time, unable to take in what his eyes were telling him.
The Circle of Claws: here it was, on the forest floor before him!
Breathlessly stretching out a paw, he touched the object, and as he did, thoughts of his sister unexpectedly sprang into his mind, causing an involuntary shudder to run down his spine.
Darkburst ignored the sensation, happy that his search was at an end at last. He had succeeded, Grindel would be so pleased with him.
Holding the magical object close to his eyes, Darkburst studied it under the little sunlight that managed to struggle through the dense canopy. He could see that it had been formed from five badger claws, the tips of which were fused together, the whole forming a perfect star-like shape.
There could be no doubt about it, here was part of his history, a history that connected him directly to the ancient badgers who had ruled over Boddaert's Realm since the beginning of time. Wrinkling his snout in excitement, Darkburst turned the prize over and over in his paws, examining every detail.
Finally he laid the object on the ground, closed his eyes and raised his snout to the hidden sky, giving thanks to the Prime Mover for choosing him to be the recipient of such a powerful and breathtaking possession.
The air grew heavy and the sound of thunder rumbled menacingly in the distance. Darkburst looked about uneasily as the few drops of rain that had begun to fall turned into a sudden torrent.
The storm grew closer, punctuated by the clashing of thunderclaps– angry voices bouncing from tree trunk to tree trunk.
All at once the charged atmosphere brought the guard hairs on Darkburst's coat erect, where they crackled with static energy. He was suddenly overcome with a feeling of danger.
The rumbling grew in intensity, building roll on roll, until it came from everywhere at once. Then a deep silence unexpectedly dropped across the forest. Even the trees stopped their constant rustling, waiting in tense expectation for what was to come.
Darkburst jumped in fright as a lightning bolt seared downwards through the canopy, striking the ground nearby. Thrown backwards by the blast, he careened into a tree and lay where he fell, stunned for the moment, unable to move.
Shaking his head, Darkburst struggled back to his feet, turning to face the shaft of sunlight that now poured through the hole left by the lightning strike. The tight beam lit the forest floor in a perfect circle. The dazed youngster staggered towards it as the last rumble of thunder died away somewhere in the distance.
His eyes narrowed and he suddenly tensed, terrified that the Circle of Claws had been destroyed by the lightening bolt. The thought of loosing such a precious object, so soon after finding it, made his heart flutter.
As he entered the beam cast by the sunlight, he saw a darkened patch of pine needles, a great scorch mark made by the lightning bolt hitting the forest floor.
His heart froze. The Circle of Claws had been laying right there. Right where the lightning bolt had struck. It must have been blasted out of existence!
A muted cry was torn from Darkburst's throat and he rushed forward, but then stumbled to a halt, a paw half raised to his mouth.
The Prime Mover may well have destroyed the Circle of Claws, but in its place, She seemed to have left him an even greater gift.
There, at the very centre of the sunbeam, lay a small black stone, its scintillating surface reflecting the sun's radiance back up at him in a breathtaking array of colours. Locked into the stone's flat surface he could just make out the perfect image of the Circle of Claws. The stone sparkled up at him invitingly, like a twinkling star stirring primitive emotions in his chest.
Reaching out a tremulous paw, Darkburst picked up the stone and studied it carefully. At the very centre, where the tips of the claws met, was a small hole surrounded by a rim of tiny crystals and it was these crystals that reflected the sunlight with such intensity.
Finding a length of stout grass he quickly threaded it through the stone and hung it about his neck, where it burrowed itself deeply into his fur– as though it belonged there, as though it had always been there.
And as the stone nuzzled deeper, Darkburst closed his eyes, feeling its fiery warmth caressed his skin. The stone felt good, a part of him, a replacement for the Talisman he'd left with Brightness.
Turning his back on the charred ground, Darkburst headed off through the trees towards Migaro Lake full of renewed energy. He would spend some time beside the lake, resting and eating, then set out for Brockenhurst Sett with his prize.
Chapter 24
Brokin glanced over his shoulder, marvelling at how such a large body of badgers had managed to move into the fringes of Brockenhurst Forest without disturbing the local wildlife. Worrying at his lower lip, he wrinkled his snout.
A large part of his force still lingered out beyond the boundary of the forest, gathered in a low meadow that swept down from the edge of the mountains, waiting his order to move forward. He needed to get them under cover quickly before they were spotted.
As Brokin waited for his forward scouts to report back to him, he tapped the claws of one foot against a large stone. His impatience was obvious to those around him and they talked quietly, expectantly, their voices a soft drone in the background.
Brokin let his gaze wander along the lines of badgers spread out around him. It had been hard work getting them trained to such a high standard so quickly, but somehow, against all the odds, he'd managed it.
*
On the journey back from his undercover mission to Brockenhurst Sett, Brokin had formulated a scheme to meet the threat posed by Grindel.
On reaching Badachro Sett, he put his proposals to the Council, who then held a private session to discuss his plans. More than half a moon passed before the young badger was finally called– so long in fact that he began to wonder if they ever would call him.
Had they dismissed his plan out of order, he wondered.
But finally, just as the sun began staining the sky, the message came.
As Brokin moved across the chamber towards the group of sombre Elders, Drac, their leade
r, studied him intently. The old badger seemed to be searching for some enigmatic answer in Brokin's eyes.
"Brokin," Drac began in a grave tone, "the Council of Elders is divided on this issue and have left the final decision to me."
The old badger looked uncomfortable, his one brown eye appearing almost black in the half-light. Staring out across the rocky valley floor he continued in a quiet voice, "But I must admit right now that I'm reluctant to agree to such a proposal. It would mean the loss of so many lives."
"Far more if we don't act first," Brokin answered abruptly. "Do you really want to wait until we're attacked before you do anything? Think about what will happen if we loose this fight, and we will if we let them attack us here. We can't defend the sett, it's too spread out for that.
"You know what the outcome will be don't you? Those who survive will be enslaved, made to work for the victors until they drop from exhaustion. How long do you think you'd last at your age? And what about your cubs? With such oddly coloured eyes, do you imagine for one moment that the Preceptor will let them live? Are you really trying to tell me that you're just going to abandon all those who look to you for their safety to a murdering tyrant like that?"
Drac shook his head and stared at the ground. "I know, I know," he replied in a tight, throaty voice. "What you say may well be true Brokin, but think about the loss of life. How can I condone that?"
Brokin took a deep breath. He knew that loosing his temper now would only anger the Elder. He needed to win Drac over, not alienate him.
"Badgers are going to die either way Drac," he answered quietly. "But at least my way will give them a chance at success." Nodding at the tight group gathered around them he continued. "Look around you. You hold all these badger's lives in your grasp. Are you really going to let them die for no other reason than your misplaced morality? Let me take a force out to Brockenhurst Forest and attack Grindel and his hoard before they attack us. It's the only way. We can't defend our sett here. Please, listen to me."
The Elder wrinkled his snout, considering the points Brokin had made, his old mind a whirlpool of jumbled emotions.
"We could always leave. Move somewhere else," he said half-heartedly. "That's a suggestion that I would find more acceptable."