Duncton Stone (The Book of Silence, Vol. 3)
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himself, were deep in conference, and the future was being planned. “It’s all happening now,” said the guardmole who had watched over Thorne to Tarn. “I tell you, this is where it’s at now. There’ll be things happening soon we’ll be telling our pups about one day.” Tarn nodded his head grimly: “If we’re not pushing up daisies first!” “Not with the Brother Commander in charge, mate. Talk about being Newborn – he looked reborn when he woke up this afternoon.” “He’ll need to be if Senior Brother
throttling to death. “Leave her be!” roared Arvon, his companions silent and threatening behind him. Quail let the female drop choking to the ground and said in his softest voice, “Who are they, Brother Snyde, and whoever they are, how dare they?” “Evils, Elder Senior Brother; sins; snakes; doubts; the followers incarnate. Names unknown.” His eyes flicked to the tunnel roof above where the welcome, but none-too-early pawsteps of guardmoles came running. Moles would die for this. “Quail,”
heart, who came so near, so near, to the greatness that shall shine upon me instead, and make me whole again. For...” And here, most horribly, he swung round, all his appendages with him, to stance snout to snout with Squilver. “... for I have been unwell.” “Have you, Lord?” said Squilver. Quail nodded his head, his eyes puplike and wide, as if to share some secret nomole-else could know. “But I am getting better.” “Much better,” said Snyde, jocularly. “Do I not look it?” “Elder Senior
almost all gone and a great mass of jumbled rock from the cliff above slewed across it, almost up to the inner wall. The mole turned, took Whillan’s paw, and led him towards the base of the fallen rock. Somewhere above them rocks shifted, somewhere else nearby stones spattered down, and one rolled away into darkness. Water dripped on Whillan’s face, icy cold. The mole headed for a narrow gap, which by the nature of the fall, and what remained of the walls and roof, was in the darkest part of
route seemed lined with moles, all cheering Pumpkin on, all sensing that this was a moment they would remember and cherish all their lives. “How many moles have come!” he said, delighted to see so many new pilgrims, so many youngsters, so many kin together once again. “The Stone will be well pleased.” The sun shone in the Stone Clearing, moles chattered and greeted one another, and when the time came the youngsters were gathered round the Stone, Loosestrife’s three especially close to Privet.