‘Tell us of yourselves,’ he said. ‘Let us hear your story from the beginning, for although parts of it have come to our ears they are like parts of a mosaic which need to be fitted together to form a picture.’

The elves had stopped talking and were looking expectantly at the animals, and Saurélon was smiling down at them from his seat in the rock. Nab looked at Brock. ‘Come on,’ he whispered. ‘You must start. We’ll take over for the bits we each know best.’

Brock was reminded of the time he had had to speak at that Council Meeting so long ago in Silver Wood. He had had to tell the same story then as he was about to tell now but little had he known then how it would all turn out. If someone had said to him that he Would eventually be relating the story to Saurélon, Lord of the Sea, and a group of sea-elves on the Isle of Elgol in the land of Sheigra, he would have laughed at them. Tara would have been proud of him now; how he wished she was still alive and could be with him for it was her story as much as his. He looked across at Warrigal as he had that first time, and the owl, knowing what he was thinking, nodded at him in encouragement for he too remembered that Council Meeting very clearly when they had been trying to persuade Wythen and Bruin and Rufus and Sterndale and Pictor and the others to allow Nab to stay in the wood. He thought of them now, nearly all dead, and he wondered what had happened to old Wythen. Brock started his story and the owl listened carefully, trying hard not to interrupt if the badger missed something or got something slightly wrong, for amongst the animals it is the height of bad manners to interrupt a story while it is being told.

By the time the tale was finished the sound of the waves was echoing loudly in the cave for the tide had come a long way in. They had all told a part of the story, even Beth, who had talked about her life as an Urkku and of the times she had met Nab and of her flight with him away from her home to Silver Wood. There was silence when the tale was over and all that could be heard was the lapping of the sea against the sides of the cave. The elves, still lost in the wonder of the story, remained sitting motionless and quiet, staring in fascination at the travellers until finally Saurélon spoke.

‘The sea will soon be upon us. Come; you must be tired. Faraid will lead you to your cave and we shall meet again tomorrow. May you sleep the sleep of the dolphin.’

He got up slowly from his seat and made his way up some step-like grooves in the wall of the cave until he reached the wide ledge. He moved along this until he came to a spot where there was a groove for a seat and there he sat down. Faraid followed him up the steps and then beckoned to the visitors to follow him. When they reached the ledge there was a small opening in the rock and they saw the elf disappearing down it along a narrow passage. The roof was so low that only Warrigal and Perryfoot were able to walk upright and the others had to crawl along on their stomachs with only the silver glow shining from Faraid to show them where they were going. Perryfoot was last down the tunnel and before he went he looked back at the cave. All the elves were now sitting along the ledge looking down at the sea beneath them which was washing over the area where, a little while before, they had been sitting eating and telling their tale. The sound and smell of the sea filled everywhere. He turned away and instantly the roaring sound became muffled as he followed the others. The tunnel was only short and soon he emerged on to the floor of another cave, far smaller than the one they had left and much less deep, for although they were now standing against the back wall they could see out of the mouth of the cave quite clearly to the dark night sky outside and the waves crashing down on the pebbles just outside the entrance.

‘The sea never reaches this far,’ said Faraid.

‘When you awake tomorrow you will find that the rhythm of the waves has become as much a part of you as the sound of your own breath. I bid you a peaceful sleep.’ He smiled at them and was gone and the travellers were once more on their own, for the first time since the marshes. Now that they could relax they felt utterly exhausted and no sooner had they lain down than they sank into a deep and tranquil sleep with the sound of the waves outside on the shore soothing away their worries and the black curtain of the night sky, with a few twinkling stars shining brightly out of the darkness, forming a veil over the cave mouth.

When they woke up next morning and looked out of the cave mouth, they saw that the clear blue sky of the previous day had gone. Instead the clouds loomed grey and forbidding over the sea and the air was full of a fine misty drizzle. The tide was out and they went for a walk on the small beach. They ambled slowly along the line of seaweed which had been left by last night’s tide and found pieces of driftwood, stripped of their bark and bleached silvery white by the sea, which Beth picked up to take back to their cave. They also gathered up some of the pebbles and shells from the beach which were of a similar type to those they had seen but had to leave behind on the shore of the headland.

Warrigal ventured out over the water using his new found skills, and Sam, Perryfoot and Brock raced one another along the shore before they very gingerly joined Nab and Beth on the rocks where they were sitting looking out over the grey sea. It was as Faraid had said; no longer did they actually hear the waves crashing on the shore, instead the sound was a part of them which they would have missed had it suddenly stopped. They sat for a long time watching the sea come in and fill up the spaces between the rocks on which they were sitting, bringing new life to the seaweed which hung down flat and dull until it began to float again and colour came back to it. Then when the drizzle became too heavy for them and they started to get very wet they called to Warrigal and ran back to their cave. The elves had left them some food and drink and sitting just inside the cave mouth with the rain dripping down outside, they slowly and thoughtfully ate the warmed up seaweed and drank the hot contents of the shell goblets. It was the same as they had had last night but it tasted different hot and any feeling of cold or dampness seemed to vanish as the warmth of the drink spread through their bodies.

The sea air and the sound of the rain had made them feel dozy again and very soon they were all curled up against the back wall sleeping soundly, whilst outside, the sea pounded against the rocks sending great fountains of spray showering up into the air. When Nab woke up he saw Beth standing in the entrance looking out and he quietly got up and walked over to her. The others were still fast asleep. As he moved across the floor of the cave he saw that the pebbles and the driftwood they had gathered had been placed carefully all around the walls on little crevices and ledges. She looked round with a start as she heard his footfall behind her and then she smiled when she realized who it was. Nab saw with dismay that her eyes were red and tears were trickling down her cheeks.

‘What is it?’ he said gently, and without saying anything she flung her arms around him and buried her head against his shoulder, sobbing. He tried to comfort her, stroking her hair and holding her closely to him. Eventually her sobs died away and she looked up at him through eyes that glistened with tears, and spoke.

‘I was thinking of what will happen to us. What will happen in the future. I’m afraid. I don’t know, somehow the feeling of happiness and security here with the elves on Elgol makes everything else seem like a nightmare. I want to stay, Nab. I don’t want to go. And I want a home for us; will we ever have a home? Where will all this travelling end?’