When Nab had got himself as dry as possible by rubbing his body with some old ferns that he gathered from the bank and by jumping up and down, the three animals turned their faces to the wood and began to make their way through the undergrowth which consisted of the debris from last year’s summer: dead bracken and ferns and briars that scratched Nab’s legs and made them itch. The floor of the wood was a thick carpet of rotting leaves; not golden and crisp as in the days of autumn but black and slimy as they began to decompose.
Every three or four paces about them, on every side, was a tree, tall and black, and sometimes an elder or a small holly would bar their way so that they were forced to go round. Warrigal flew low from tree to tree and the badger and the boy followed. They hadn’t gone far before Nab looked back to the stream and was surprised and a little dismayed to find that he could not see it. He could not even see where the edge of the wood was, for in no one direction was there any more light than in any other. With a little jolt of fear he realized that, if he had wanted to go back the way he’d come, he wouldn’t have been able to. They were totally lost. He listened for the stream but could hear nothing; everywhere was completely still except for the gentle rustling of the tops of the trees as they swayed in the wind high above them and the sound of their footsteps as they padded over the damp leaves or occasionally cracked a twig. Even these sounds were quickly absorbed by the silence so that they appeared muted. After a while another thing struck Nab; there were no animals or birds anywhere to be seen and the only indication that there might be any living creatures in the wood at all were the huge, squirrels’ dreys way up in the tops of the trees. He began to grow a little afraid; it was no wonder that the Urkku never approached Ellmondrill.
As they walked on through the mist Nab became aware that the undergrowth, which normally reached no higher than his knees, was brushing against his chest and, rather than walk through it or over it, it was easier to go under. He stopped for a second and looked up; he could hardly see the tops of the trees now and the sky appeared as little specks of grey between the distant foliage. When he looked back down at the trunks of the trees, they seemed enormous and he found himself staring at the protruding roots which were as high as he was. In desperate panic he looked for the others; Brock was still walking slowly and calmly along at his side while Warrigal was perched on top of a huge fern ahead of them. He thought of Wythen’s words before they left; ‘all is not what it may seem; do not be afraid’, and resolved to try not to show his fear.
Further and deeper into the wood they went and Nab wrestled more and more to keep his panic under control. The trees now seemed altogether different as he walked in a subterranean underworld where the woodland fungi reached to his shoulders and the chewed-up remains of the nuts from a squirrel’s hoard presented an obstacle which could only be clambered over with difficulty. The huge oaks and elms, towering way above, seemed to be watching him as the gods watch the creatures on earth; the furrows and cracks on their bark looked like deep valleys cut into them, each one unique in its pattern and colour and each with a different character. Nab also grew aware of the silent sound of the earth; a constant whisper and hum as if it were the noise of life itself.
Then the character of the wood changed, the undergrowth stopped and instead they were walking on a carpet of pine needles and the smell of fir was all around. This was a different world where the trees were always green and the changing seasons left no mark; a constant world of twilight. Here, even their footsteps could not be heard and the wind seemed unable to penetrate the hushed atmosphere. Nab began to feel tired but his fears were subsiding as he grew more used to the wood. Warrigal had perched on an exposed tree root and was staring in front while Brock and the boy caught him up. The owl’s eyes were shining, unblinking and filled with a strange light that they had not seen before.
‘Ellmondrill,’ he said slowly under his breath, and then he repeated the word louder, taking a long time to say it and intoning it as if it were a magical chant. They stood still for a while; the owl looking straight ahead and the other two behind him, neither wishing to break the silence and content to let their minds wander where they wished. After a period of time which would have been impossible to measure in the world outside the wood, Nab became aware of Brock whispering fiercely at his side.
‘Look, look ahead,’ he was saying, and he pointed in the direction that Warrigal was facing. Nab did not find it easy to collect his thoughts and focus his eyes but when he looked hard he could just make out in the far distance, through the mist and the gloom, two bright lights like stars, silver and twinkling, and moving towards them slowly.
‘It’s the elves,’ Brock said, and there was wonder in his voice.
The two silver stars bobbed and weaved towards them and then suddenly they were directly in front. Warrigal turned to the others.
‘We have to follow them,’ he said, and, as if on a word of command, the lights moved back again into the distance. Mesmerized, the animals set off after them. Soon they left the area of the pines and were in a part of the wood which was more open and less cluttered than that which they had so far gone through. The undergrowth here was a mixture of mosses and ferns and grass and the trees seemed very old. Often they came across a huge fallen trunk and had to decide whether it was easier to climb over it or go round while Warrigal perched on top patiently. The two lights always seemed to stay the same distance away and sometimes they would appear to be chasing each other round and round in the air as if playing a game. Watching them closely Nab sometimes thought that he could make out little figures inside the lights but then, when he blinked, they vanished until he screwed his eyes up so as not to be dazzled by the brightness and once again the figures would appear. He became completely engrossed in this and his tiredness and fear were forgotten. Brock, at his side, was caught up in the wonder of it all and seemed fired with a hidden energy that he had not known since he was a cub. They had no idea how far they were walking nor how long it was taking them; time seemed to have been suspended ever since they entered the wood and the deeper they had gone the more difficult had it become to imagine any world outside. It seemed an eternity since they had stood at the top of the slope in the field and looked down for the first time at Ellmondrill.
The lights had now stopped and were dancing in front of a belt of trees which seemed so thick to the animals that they were unable to see how they could get through; the trees were so close to one another that the trunks almost met. The lights then began to move slowly off to one side and the animals followed until after a short distance they stopped again and Nab could just make out a gap between two great oaks. The lights disappeared through it and then Warrigal indicated to Nab that he was to go first. The boy got down on his hands and knees and began to crawl slowly along what was in fact a tunnel between the trees. Inside it was dark, but the light that came from the far end enabled him to see where he was going and to make out very dimly the dark polished wooden sides. Under his hands the wood felt smooth and reminded him of the roots around the inside doorway of the sett in Silver Wood: worn smooth by generations of use. The light behind him was cut off as Brock and then Warrigal entered the passage and the three animals shuffled slowly along; the sounds of their breathing echoing loudly inside it.
