Soon it was Brock’s turn at the door again; the pile of splinters and shavings had now grown quite large and there was a definite indentation into the wood. He leant forward to bite off some large splinters that were getting in the way and then, sinking his claw into the wood again, he felt it go through. Overjoyed he went to work with renewed energy and soon there was a small jagged hole through which he could see the little entrance hall and, leading from it at the back, the stairs up which Sam had said they must go to find Nab. He wanted to carry on but the muscles of his shoulders had begun to ache and the pads of his paws were very sore. He pointed out the hole to the others and then limped painfully to one side to allow Bruin to carry on. It shouldn’t be too much longer now, he thought; all they needed was a hole big enough to squeeze through. Sam stood by the hole watching carefully and listening for any sounds inside that might tell hint whether any of the household were awake. There was silence except for the rhythmic scraping of Bruin’s claws against the door as the hole grew wider. Soon Sam saw that the job was done and he put his paw on the old badger’s shoulder to tell him to stop. It was time to go on in.
Warrigal gathered them all together and whispered quietly. ‘Sam, you know the way so you lead us to the room. Brock, you go next and I will follow you. Bruin, I think you should stay just here, by the door, so that if the worst happens and the Urkku spot us you may be in a position to help. Now, is that all right with everyone? Good. Off we go then.’
As Bruin took up his position by the door Sam went through the jagged opening and found himself once again in the familiar surroundings of the house where he had lived for as long as he could remember. Their familiarity made the danger they were in seem unreal. There were no lights on. He walked gently across the few paces of tiled floor to the bottom of the stairs. Brock was squeezing himself gingerly through the hole, taking care not to get caught on one of the jagged splinters that were left around it. He could see Sam waiting for him. He realized with a shock of excitement that he was in an Urkku dwelling for the first, and probably the last time. His paws found it difficult to get a grip on the smooth floor and his claws made a slight rattling noise as he walked slowly across the tiles; he looked carefully all around him, into the kitchen on his right and the living room with chairs, tables, pictures and the red dying embers of a fire: the strange smells made his nose wrinkle and some of them threatened to catch in his throat and make him cough. When he joined Sam he turned round and watched Warrigal hop up and perch for a second in the hole before flying silently across to sit on the bottom stair. ‘Right, ’ he whispered softly, and Sam began to make his way up the stairs with Brock following and Warrigal waiting behind. Brock found climbing these strange angles difficult at first but he watched Sam and copied the way he moved and before they reached the top he had got the hang of it; putting his front paws on the next stair, gripping and then bringing his back legs up to join them with a little jump. Once or twice the stairs creaked and to the animals it sounded like a thunderclap but luckily none of the Urkku seemed to have been woken, and Sam, having listened attentively for a few seconds each time, beckoned them on. Brock’s paws now felt as if they were on something soft, like a very coarse moss, and he found it easier to move than on the tiles. He watched Sam arrive at the top of the stairs and walk along the landing a few paces, where he stopped and waited for Brock to catch up. Then Warrigal took off from the bottom and flew up the space over the stairs to join them. Sam thought how strange it was to see the owl flying around the house like a brown shadow and he had to blink his eyes to make sure it wasn’t all a dream. But no; when he opened them again there was Brock by his side and Warrigal perched on a banister rail, both animals looking to him for guidance as to the next move. He led them along the landing past the three doors on their left which led into the bedrooms where the Urkku were sleeping and finally turned the comer on to the small landing where Nab’s room was. They stopped outside the door and Sam indicated that this was it. So far, so good, he thought, but now the really difficult part of the operation would begin; if the noise of Brock’s scratching at the door didn’t wake his master or mistress it would be the work of the elves. Warrigal walked back along the little landing until he reached the corner where there was a banister post; he flew up and folded his talons around the top of it to perch there and keep a watch along the main landing. When the badger saw that he was in position he started once again the painful process of gouging away the door. As soon as he had started he heard footsteps inside the room and his heart lifted with joy at the realization that Nab was just on the other side. He worked very slowly; partly to make as little noise as possible and partly because of the pain in his paws which had started while he was working on the main door and which now had become almost unbearable. It was made worse by the fact that he was on his own now and couldn’t have a rest while Bruin took over. His pads had started to bleed and as he scratched he left smudges and streaks of red behind. Sam indicated to him that this door was less thick than the other and luckily the wood was nowhere near as solid. Nevertheless, as the work progressed painstakingly slowly, he wondered how he was going to finish. He had to though; he felt responsible for letting all this happen in the first place, despite what the others said, and it would be totally unthinkable for him to admit defeat with the boy just the other side of the door. This was Nab; whom he had found as a baby on that snowfilled night long ago; whom he had taken back to his earth and whom Tara had suckled and looked after as a cub. No; if anything happened to the boy, life for him would lose all its purpose.
As these thoughts filled Brock’s mind his paws grew mercifully numb; he lost all sensation of pain and the work was now mechanical, a matter of moving his claws to the correct place and using his shoulder muscles to pull them in the right direction. Sam stood half-way between Warrigal and the door; his head cocked on one side and his ears erect, listening for any sounds. After what seemed to all the animals to be an age, Brock finally saw that there was a small hole right through the door and he gestured to Sam to come over and look. While they were both examining the hole they became aware of a light thumping noise coming up the stairs. They turned round and saw Perryfoot turning the corner of the small landing and stopping to talk to Warrigal. He looked anxious and had obviously sprinted from his post outside in great haste. The dog and the badger walked quietly along the landing to meet him.
‘I heard an Urkku vehicle coming down the track. We’re trapped! He’s bound to see the hole in the door and come looking to see who has done it.’ Suddenly, as Perryfoot was talking, the darkness on the landing was split by a great shaft of light which shone through a window at the end, and outside they could hear the unfamiliar but unmistakable sound of a car. The beam of light seemed to move across the landing as the car turned in the yard and the engine stopped and then after a few seconds it went out. Sam spoke in a hushed whisper.
‘It’ll be one of the two young Urkku. They often go out at night and come back at this time but they rarely go together so with luck there will only be one. I’d forgotten about it. Brock, you’ve nearly finished the hole. I will try and keep him downstairs for as long as I can while you complete it and bring Nab out. I’ll try to keep him in the kitchen, so when you go out through the front door I’ll be on your left. Don’t wait for me.’ He paused, and they all heard footsteps coming across the yard. Sam turned away from them and ran along the main landing and down the stairs while Brock went back to Nab’s door and continued the familiar routine of scratching and biting while Perryfoot and Warrigal remained on the comer.
