‘Daddy’s home. We must rush,’ she said and, although Nab could not understand what she was saying, he detected the note of urgency in her voice and in any case he also felt that they should leave as quickly as possible. As they heard the noise of the car engine stop they were halfway across the back garden and by the time the garage door slammed shut they were passing the belt of trees under which Brock had been waiting anxiously and with not a little irritation for them to come away from the house. How much longer they would have stood there if the car had not arrived he did not know nor did he like to think but he was thankful that Nab was here at last, with the girl, and they were safe.

Beth wondered what the boy was doing when he uttered some sounds in the direction of the trees but when the badger emerged stealthily from the shadows she was not altogether surprised as she had seen him so often in her dreams. Nevertheless she was very excited; despite all her time spent in the woods, particularly at dusk which was her favourite part of the day, she had never before seen a live badger. Now here was one walking beside her and never even giving her a sideways glance. Then she saw the owl perched on the fence apparently waiting for them. She heard the boy make some more noises to it and to her astonishment the owl responded. Then the truth occurred to her; although he could not speak the human language he was able to speak in the language of the animals and they likewise spoke to him. The noises that he made to her were in their language and that was why she could not understand them.

They were just crawling under the wooden fence when they heard the crunch of footsteps walking along the gravel drive from the garage to the house and then the sound of the front door opening and closing and, muffled from inside the house, the traditional evening greeting from her mother to her father and his to her. ‘Hello dear; had a good day?’ ‘Yes thanks; and you? Any post?’ Then a pause while he looked at any letters that had arrived. ‘What’s for supper?’ he would add finally before he went up the stairs to change out of his work clothes.

Beth heard each piece of the familiar jigsaw pattern of her life and wondered whether it would be for the last time. The security of that routine had been the foundation of her life; now she was scrambling up the hill with a badger on one side of her, this strange and beautiful boy on the other and a large brown owl flying low ahead of them over the field leading the way. Where she was going she did not know nor even why, but now that she was on the way she was hardly able to contain the exultant feeling of joy and freedom which surged through every part of her body. And then finally, when they were at the top of the hill, she heard a different note in the house and knew that the jigsaw, for a while anyway, had been broken. It was the sound of her father she heard, calling down in panic to her mother, ‘Where’s Beth? Have you seen her?’ and then the back door flying open, releasing a stream of light into the darkness, as her mother dashed out to see whether she was still by the coal-shed and stood framed in the doorway shouting her name out loud over the fields. ‘Be-eth, Be-eth,’ a long drawn out cry which cut the girl through with guilt and remorse and almost made her run back down and tell them she was all right and safe and that she loved them. But she knew that she could not. She had caught hold of Nab’s shoulder when they heard her father shout and they were both standing now looking down at the scene of panic below them. Nab understood the pain she was feeling; it was as if he were to leave Brock and Tara, never, perhaps, to see them again, and he found her hand where it lay hanging limp and cold by her side, and clasped it in his. She turned to him and her eyes were misty and sparkling with tears and once again they held each other tightly for comfort until the voice of her father, calmer now, came down to her mother calling her in to look at something. He had found the note in her bedroom. Beth could do no more; she turned away quickly from the sight of home and, still holding each other’s hand, the two walked slowly away over the frozen snow until they found Brock and Warrigal waiting for them under a large ash tree at the side of the field. Then the four set out under the moonlight for Silver Wood.

They did not rush to get back to the wood. Instead it was a slow and lingering amble under the stars which seemed to last for ever for they felt that the night was full of magic and had been made especially for them. There was little wind; instead the air was still and the moon shone down out of a night sky that was of such a deep blue that it was almost black. It reflected up from the white fields so that if it had not been for the shadows under the hedges and trees which showed up darkly against the snow and stood like silent watchers of the night, everywhere would have been as bright as day. The sorrow that Beth had felt at leaving home began to evaporate as she lost herself in a world that was as new to her as if she had just been born. She had been out at night before into the fields but somehow she felt as if her eyes must have been closed for it had never seemed like this. Before, she had been on the other side; now she was on this side, their side, the side of the badger and the owl and all the other creatures of the wild. Instead of being an observer, she was now a participant looking at their world from within. For Nab, seeing the wonder and joy in her eyes as she looked around at the night, it was as if he himself was seeing everything anew and her happiness became his. Every so often they would stop and the girl would bend down to stroke Brock and bury her face against his neck the way that he loved. Then she would hold his head and look straight into the badger’s eyes and talk to him in her strange language with a voice that was full of music and gentleness. Afterwards she would stand up and look at Warrigal as he perched on a branch and the owl would stare back at her with his great round eyes for a long time without blinking and then he would emit a very low hoot as if to tell her his pleasure that she was with them. She would smile at him and lift her hand up to his head to stroke it carefully and gently so that the lids closed over his eyes for such a long time that Brock and Nab would think he had fallen asleep. Thus it was that she captured their hearts as she had Nab’s so that soon she was to them almost as Nab and they did not see her as an Urkku, for this is the way of the Eldron.

At other times on the walk back to the wood they would have fun racing one another to a gate or a tree or a hedge and when they got there they would be laughing for joy; Warrigal, of course, always won, and Nab would have come next but with an instinctive sense of good manners he always let the girl beat him. Brock however was not so polite and would do his utmost to beat her, sometimes running under her legs so that they both toppled over on to the snow; she laughing and he uttering little barks and yelps of amusement.

Beth also taught Nab the joys of snowball fighting. He had been walking slightly ahead of her and when suddenly he realized she was not by his side and turned around to find her, an icy cold lump of snow hit him on the chest. Then when she bent down to scoop up another handful he copied her and with some delight hit her squarely on the shoulder only to find he had been hit on the neck again and the cold snow was beginning to creep down inside his garments. From then on they had a running battle until their hands grew cold. Then Nab copied her again as she cupped them around her mouth and breathed very hard on them and found to his surprise that this warmed them. There was so much he would learn from her, he thought, his curiosity at the ways of the Urkku awakened, but first he would have to try to learn to speak her language. He looked at her and smiled and his heart lifted again for joy when she smiled back.