by Rina Heisel
Tobin tried peeking around Hess, but it was difficult to gauge his swerve. “Are we getting close to the others?”
“Yes,” said Hess, “I smell fresh air.”
A moment later the draft hit Tobin’s nose. A shaft ahead glowed with sunlight, and Tobin heard the familiar voice of his sister chatting. “Maybe I should head up first, Hess. So Hubbart knows you’re—er, we’re coming.”
Hess slid over. “Good idea.”
Tobin sprang into the shaft and scrambled up. His nose popped into the open air between two bushy clumps of switchgrass, the long, rough blades providing perfect camouflage.
“Tobin,” Talia called. Sitting beneath stems so lengthy they’d stooped over, Talia, Wiley, and Hubbart all looked at him expectantly.
“Guess what?” said Wiley. “Hubbart thinks we’re getting close to the Arakni lair.”
The good news made Tobin’s stomach flip. Joining his friends, he looked up to the woodchuck. “So, they filled you in on our story, huh?”
“Sure did,” Hubbart said, just as Hess slithered out from the ground. “The four of ya make a pretty unusual lot.”
Tobin remembered a particular possum that would share that sentiment. “Yeah, I suppose we do. Thanks for letting us travel through your burrow, it’s pretty amazing.”
“Why, thank ya, lad.” Hubbart raised his chin, glancing in the direction of the den. “It’s been in the family for generations. We just keep expanding.”
Talia glanced across the tiny patch of meadow before the forest again grew thick. “Where is your family, Hubbart?”
“Oh, they’re down in the ‘belly o’ the den,’ as we call it.”
Hess finished rubbing his cheeks on the ground. “Your family has one of the most elaborate dwellings I’ve ever seen.”
“Is that so?” Hubbart raised a furry brow. “I suppose a serpent such as you has been through many, many such dwellings.”
Tobin’s heart skipped a beat. For the love of wheat, why taunt a snake?
The corner of Hess’s mouth twitched into a little smile. “I suppose I have. But those would be stories for another day.”
Hubbart guffawed, his quake of laughter quivering the grass. Relieved that everyone’s senses of humor seemed intact, Tobin exhaled his breath. He had no desire to ever ask Hess about those stories. “We should get moving. Hubbart, you said we’re getting close to the Arakni lair?”
“Ah, my little band o’ misfits.” Hubbart’s cheery expression sagged. “Yer almost there.”
Fifteen
TOBIN GRIMACED AT HUBBART’S words. “Your den is close to the spiders?”
Hubbart’s fur bristled. “Rah! Vermin most foul. Once a year, they traipse across this crevice. None too big a concern for me—me an’ my kin stomp every arachnid that’s stepped a leg in the warren.” Hubbart pointed to nearby stone. “That’s where we chuck the nasty carcasses, to try ’n’ give any trespassing spider fair warning.”
Tobin cringed looking at the grotesque cemetery; there had to be a dozen freshly crushed spider husks scattered around the stone.
“Brazen beasties,” continued Hubbart. “I’d swear by my third paw those spiders are throwing nature’s balance into a tizzy. Yesterday I saw an Arakni try to make off with a wee chick right from a hawk’s nest.”
Wiley’s eyes doubled in size. “Aren’t they scared of anything?”
Hubbart shook his head. “Not that I reckon. Mind you—it ain’t bravery, Arakni’s just not bright enough to be scared. I can tell ya, that mama hawk swooped in and squished that spider to bits before it even got into the nest.”
Talia shivered. “I’m glad.”
“Are ya cheering for a hawk now?” asked Hubbart. His brow furrowed. “Common enemies make for strange friends. Present company included.”
Hess slithered past, snaking back toward the crevice they’d just crossed.
Tobin’s ears perked. “Where’re you going?”
“Just looking for any straggling spiders,” Hess called back. “Stay put.”
Hubbart shrugged. “Anyway, I think the hunt is over. Dozens of the beasties crawled past yesterday and I ain’t seen many since.”
Wiley’s ears drooped. “Ugh. You saw dozens?”
“Aye. They climb into the gorge from every which direction, but when they climb out”—Hubbart turned his head—“they all head toward that hillside.”
Tobin’s heart fluttered uncomfortably fast as he forced himself to follow Hubbart’s gaze. Past the little patch of meadow, into the forest, a scattering of pine trees stood higher than the rest. And hidden somewhere on that pine-covered hill, the Arakni lair waited.
“I know yer endeavor is an honorable one, but . . .” Hubbart grimaced. “But I think maybe ya should consider leaving the mouseling here while ya scout things out a bit.”
The whites of Talia’s eyes flashed as she looked from Tobin to Hubbart. “No. No, I want to stay with my brother.”
Tobin met her worried stare. She’d handled herself just fine, better than fine—so far. But things were about to get more dangerous. And it wasn’t long ago she was a pinkling herself. What if the Arakni snatched her, too?
Tobin shuddered. “Tal, you were a huge help tracking the spiders, but now, maybe if there’s a safe place for you to wait—”
“No!” Instantly, Talia’s whiskers drooped. “You can’t leave me.”
“She’s coming with us.” Hess slid up behind Hubbart, his golden eyes fixed on the hillside. “And we need to get moving.”
Tobin took a step forward. “But she can stay with Hubbart. She’s small, Hess, and where we’re going is so dangerous—”
“I heard.” Hess turned, staring Tobin dead in the eyes. “But she’s right. Her place is with us. So let’s move. Now.”
Without another word, Hess slithered toward the open meadow. Talia scrambled to Hess’s side. “I’m glad at least you understand.”
Anger threatened to sizzle through Tobin’s composure. When did Hess appoint himself boss? “You’re just going to make decisions for all of us now?”
“On this matter,” Hess called out, then gave a curt nod. “Yes.” The snake turned again toward the forest. “Let’s move.”
Hubbart scratched his chin. “You got a flea for a brain in there, snake?”
Hess disappeared into the deep grass of the meadow, Talia trotting alongside. “We have to go,” said Wiley, running after them.
Tobin’s eyes burned as he watched his companions slip away. “Unbelievable,” he muttered before scurrying after them. Here he’d thought they were a team. And then just like that, their journey was now on Hess’s terms—and how much could the snake really care about them, if he wouldn’t even consider what might be safest for Talia?
Hubbart hollered as Tobin entered the meadow, “Tobin! Yer free to use my tunnels on yer way back if ya need.”
Tobin waved his tail, acknowledging Hubbart’s offer as he tromped after his friends.
Once he caught up, Wiley leaned close and whispered, “I know you’re mad. I don’t get it, either. But try and forget about it for now.”
Tobin gritted his teeth.
Wiley continued. “Where we’re going, you need to have a clear mind.”
Tobin snorted. Really? Of all mice . . . “Who are you to tell me anything about thinking clearly?”
Flattening his scabbed ear, Wiley froze in his tracks and rounded on him.
Sludge.
“Who am I?” Wiley’s dark eyes flashed a shade darker. “I’m your friend, turd-for-brains. And I know you’re steamed up right now, but believe me, you’ll regret doing something dumb . . . like pitching a fit when we should be watching for Arakni.”
“I know.” Tobin winced. “I’m sorry. I just don’t understand what happened back there. Hubbart made a fair point about Talia. Hess just turned all elder-in-charge on us.”
Wiley shrugged. “Maybe he did for a second, right back there. But he’s actually listened to us—well, you—a lot
today.”
“He sure didn’t listen when I told him Talia should stay at Hubbart’s place!”
Wiley shook his head. “I know. Maybe he didn’t trust Hubbart. Who knows, but we’d better catch up; they’re almost in the woods.”
Hess and Talia were waiting for them at the fringe of the forest. Hess’s long tongue flashed in and out, collecting odorous information before they entered.
Approaching in silence, Tobin also used his nose. This forest smelled . . . old. The aroma of rotting pine needles and moss-covered limbs hung thick in the air. Rising onto his hind legs, Tobin saw the ground ahead was a deep tangle of broken branches and debris. It must have been eons since a fire had cleansed these woods.
Hess cocked his head. “I’ve heard of this,” he said very matter-of-factly. “A section of woodland, protected by barriers, lies undisturbed by flood or fire. In this case, the gorge we crossed and the back side of this hill protect this stretch of forest.”
Talia crinkled her nose. “It’s awfully musty.”
“Yes.” Wiley nodded thoughtfully. “It smells like raccoon pee.”
Hess nodded. “You’re right. There are raccoons in these woods, but they should be sleeping this time of day. Still . . .” Hess looked to Tobin. “I’d suggest you three climb onto my back. It’ll be safer. Is that okay with you?”
Now he wants my opinion? Tobin shrugged. “Fine.”
Hess swerved his midsection toward the mice. “Climb on.”
Talia hopped past Tobin, but before she climbed aboard, she glanced at him. Her eyes were wide, hopeful. Tobin knew she wanted everything to be okay between them. He forced a smile, hoping it would pacify her—despite the sting he still felt.
Talia grinned back, a look of relief spreading across her face. She turned, quickly scaling Hess’s side. Tobin sighed quietly as Wiley moved past him. “Atta mouse,” Wiley whispered, then he, too, leaped atop the snake’s back.
Tobin was about to jump when he saw Hess’s eyes cut to him. Tobin stopped, meeting his gaze. Hess swallowed, like the words he wanted to speak were about to choke him. Tobin wanted to know why Hess insisted on Talia coming with them, but he raised his paw to stop the explanation, knowing whatever the serpent was about to say would probably make him mad all over again.
Despite Tobin’s protest, Hess inched his head nearer. “I had a good reason. Please believe me. We have to keep moving.” Then the snake swiped his head back toward the ancient woods. “Hop on.”
Feeling a bit numb, Tobin jumped. The dread of plunging into unknown waters washed over him. Hess was not telling him everything.
As Tobin settled in, Wiley looked at him with a suspicious squint. Wiley probably wanted to know what Hess had said, but Tobin himself wasn’t sure what to make of it. So he shrugged, shaking his head and digging his claws into the rubbery snakeskin. Tobin knew the truth was coming.
As Hess slipped forward toward the ancient forest, Tobin drew a deep breath. He couldn’t worry about Hess’s strangeness now. The ancient forest loomed ahead. The Arakni. Their pinkling.
Everything else must wait.
Sixteen
THE JAGGED CAW OF a crow cut the stillness above. Tobin raised his eyes but couldn’t see the bird through the matted canopy. The caw was the only noise he’d heard since they’d slipped into this decrepit forest. Decomposers ruled these woods; every wooden surface with inches to spare was sprinkled with lichen and mushrooms. There were no small birds, toads, or even ants to be seen. It was only a matter of time before the larger animals abandoned this wood—if they hadn’t already.
“Spider,” Wiley whispered.
By now Tobin knew the drill. Hess slid them out of sight, this time behind a mound of tree limbs draped with moss. The cluttered forest provided plenty of hideouts. This was good, since they’d already hidden five times and were only halfway up the hill.
Still perched atop Hess’s back, Tobin stood carefully on his hind legs and gazed through a slit in the fuzz-covered branches. An Arakni scurried up the hill; a captive cricket chirped in its sack. A flutter of motion near the base of the hill caught Tobin’s eye. Another Arakni started up the hill, but this spider hobbled beneath a strange load. Tobin squinted, then almost chuckled: this Arakni had caught a snail, though it was unclear now who was stuck to whom. The land snail had almost broken free of its webbing and slid onto the side of the spider’s rear, looking like a crusty, spiral-shaped growth.
Tobin spoke softly to his companions. “Another spider. This one’s a slow mover.”
Wiley rolled his eyes. “Then I’m stretching my legs.” He hopped off Hess’s back and hit the mushy substrate, stretching out one leg and then another.
Tobin glanced again through the crack, shaking his head.
“Lemme see.” Talia crept over, nudging her head under his chin. Her eyes crinkled at the sight of the spider-riding snail, and a smile spread across her face.
Tobin watched Wiley sniff the soft ground. Suddenly his friend cocked his head, an ear pivoting downward. “Oh yeah.”
Quick as a tail flick, Tobin hopped off Hess and landed squarely beside his friend.
Wiley rubbed his front paws. “Smell anything?”
Tobin sniffed, but Wiley wasn’t waiting for his answer—Wiley plunged his paws into the composting ground, wrapped his claws around something, and pulled. “Grab here, c’mon!”
Tobin caught a whiff—worm. A big one. The scent woke a hunger pain in his belly. Digging his claws in, Tobin felt the slimy skin and squeezed. Gritty goo squished through his paws as he yanked.
With a hushed voice Talia called down to them. “What are you guys doing?”
“Got a night crawler here,” Wiley grunted.
Tobin got both paws around it. “Got it,”
With a final heave, Wiley pulled a section of the night crawler from the ground. Tobin snipped the worm in two with his front teeth, the severed half curling around his paws.
Tobin looked up to Talia. “Want a bite?”
She shook her head. “Yuck. Those taste like wet dirt.”
To be polite, Tobin held up a section to Hess, who watched them—as he often did—with his head cocked in curiosity.
“No, go ahead,” said Hess. “I’ll keep watch, you all eat.”
Wiley shrugged, shoving a clawful of worm in his mouth. He muttered between lip smacks, “Good . . . protein.”
“So is this.” Talia hopped off Hess’s back and scurried to a patch of grayish lichens blooming like broccoli off a tree root. She swiped a pawful and held it out for them to see. “Reindeer lichen. See? ’Cause if you look close it looks like little crisscrossed antlers.”
Tobin nodded. “Someone’s paying attention in class.”
“But how’s it taste?” Wiley asked.
Talia shrugged. “I haven’t tried it in a while. Here goes.” She stuffed her cheeks and chomped away, her forehead scrunching as she considered the flavor. “Kind of like dandelion root.”
“I’ll stick with worm,” said Wiley, who smiled at Tobin. “You might have a little competition for Top Gatherer when Talia hits junior class.”
Talia beamed. Sitting upright, she turned her head in Tobin’s direction, waiting for his reply. Hoping for a pat on the back, he realized. “What can I say? It must run in the family.”
The lichen in her cheeks almost spilled out as she chewed and smiled at the same time. “Hope so! Then I can be a weather scout, too.”
“Weather scout?” Hess spoke while keeping his gaze fixed on the woods. “What about your rescue scout idea?”
“Well, that’s not really a thing,” Talia said.
“Maybe not yet,” Hess replied.
Tobin wiped the last trace of crawler off his face. “I suppose this is as good a time as any to talk about a plan.”
Wiley spoke, wiping the last of worm goo from his snout. “You have anything in mind?”
“Nothing too specific,” Tobin said, “but I’ve been adding up what we know about the Ara
kni, and I think we have something in common with them.”
“Eww,” Talia said. “Don’t say that.”
“Well, it’s true. We both gather food and then store it. Like the bee colonies Camrik talked about.”
“You think they stash those websacks together somewhere?” Wiley asked.
“It could be.” Hess nodded. “I suppose an arachnid colony could store food in a central location. Except . . .” Hess abruptly looked away, like his mind needed a little space.
“They remind me of something else, too. Like a pack—a wolf pack, returning spoils to the den,” Hess said.
Wiley stepped forward. “But so far, the pinkling, the cricket—they keep their captives alive. Wolves . . .” Wiley shivered. “Wolves don’t.”
“I can’t figure that out.” Hess shook his head, adding grimly, “I suppose we’ll learn soon enough.”
Nervousness fluttered in Tobin’s stomach. “Maybe we should talk about scouting ahead. It would help if we can find their food storage.”
Wiley raised his head. “Well, I volunteer for that. These treetops are woven so tight, I figure I can climb up one trunk and then hop the canopy tops until I see the lair.”
“I’ll go with you,” Tobin said. “Four eyes are better than two.”
Talia’s ears perked. “Me too?”
Tobin shook his head. “You wait with Hess this time. We’ll be sprinting full-speed for this trip.” Tobin looked to Hess. “Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Hess said; his huge sides caved in and out as he sighed. “Though I hate splitting up, we do need to play to our strengths. Watch for returning Arakni. Move quick. Be safe.”
Tobin knew scouting was risky, but staying behind was dreadful. He nudged Talia with his tail. “We’ll be fast—and careful.”
Wiley nodded, adding, “Just another year, Tal, and you’ll be able to keep up on a scouting run, no problem.”