Chapter 6, Part iv

The passageway inside the Tumtum tree was dark, musty and damp. It sloped steadily downward, but in a tortuous, convoluted spiral. It was so dark that Hector couldn't see his own hand in front of his face, and they had to proceed single file with their hands on each others' shoulders. Hector was in the back. The explosions from outside rocked the structure of the gigantic plant, but even more unsettling were the arrhythmic thumping sounds coming from somewhere deep in the earth. Burr whimpered as he stepped on something that audibly squished.

“Be careful,” Lilly advised. “There are more things down here than the Jabberwock.”

“Like what?” Burr asked. Lilly was silent for a moment.

“I do not wish to tell you, and you do not wish to know.”

Burr whimpered again.

“This tunnel isn't gonna branch off again, will it? Like in the forest?” Aric asked. “'Cuz if if does, we ain't gonna split up again, that's for sure.”

“No, we will not,” Lilly said firmly. “And Aric, I wish to apologize to you... I am sorry that I lost my temper in the forest. We would have avoided much of this trouble if I had not become so angry.”

“No, it was my fault,” Aric admitted. “I was provoking you. You were right all along. And with the map, too, when we were in the mountains. I'm sorry I was being so demanding; you were the Guide – still are – and you were just doing your job. And,” he said, cutting her off, “I also apologize for running off in the mountains and making you all chase after me. We could have avoided a lot of trouble there if I had just been less of a pansy and not run off.”

Burr spoke next. “Did you run because you was scared to have the Bandersnatch make you see the yours past?”

There was a pause as they kept walking, ever downward into the dark.

“Yes,” Aric said.

Burr grunted in understanding. “I was going to run too. I have things I don't want remember. But you waked up first I guess, so it was me who chased after you. Ha ha!”

Aric let himself laugh as well. “Yeah... What past have you got to hide from, Burr?”

“I am a dishonored prince of the Aztlav.”

“Oh. That is pretty bad.”

“Yes.”

They walked along in the quiet for a while. They had reached a depth where the noises from outside were almost inaudible, but the thumping from below was stronger than ever. “Lilly, do you know how to get to the Jabberwock? Did the Tulgey Wood togom tell you how?” Hector asked. The spongy walls absorbed the sound of his voice, preventing an echo. It made him feel quiet, small, and vulnerable.

“She did not tell me how to get there exactly,” Lilly said carefully, “But she did teach me how to listen to the energies that come from the Wabe. They will guide us there, and we will not get lost.” Hector could tell that she was speaking as calmly as possible, so as to keep everyone else from panicking in the dark, dismal maze.

“Look, sister, you need to come here in front if you're gonna be our Guide,” Aric exclaimed. “Burr, get out of the way and let her in front. Actually,” he said, his voice muffled as the sounds of clothes and movement filled the narrow passage. “Lilly, is it all right if I stay in front? You know, just in case there's something nasty to be stepped in.”

“As you wish, Aric” she said, and it sounded like she was suppressing a laugh. Though he felt scared and worried, Hector was inwardly glad that the bickering had stopped between Lilly and Aric. A great peace settled over his heart concerning the matter. He put his hand Burr's shoulder, and once they were all ready, they started walking again.

They continued for a while in the dark. Occasionally there was a branching in the path, but Lilly would tell them to go left or right. Ever they moved downward, and soon the air was stale and smelled strongly of mold. Every fifty yards or so they would see a glowing mushroom hanging from the wall.

“Hey, Aric?” Hector asked after a long while. “What is the Jabberwock like?”

“It's... um... well, we know it's an ancient, powerful creature that's bent on destruction and mayhem,” came Aric's voice from the darkness. “We've got to stop it not just because the Mome Raths might take control of it, but also because it's incredibly dangerous in itself.”

“Yes, I know that,” Hector insisted, “but what is it like? Is it shaped like a person? Or is it like a dragon? Or some kind of animal that we've never heard of?”

This time, Lilly answered. “It has terrible, monstrous teeth, and it rends its prey with sharp claws. Apart from that, the Gimble says little about what the creature itself looks like. In some drawings it has appeared almost like a serpent, but with legs and sometimes with wings. But I am not certain.”

The company stopped, and Aric announced that there was another fork in the tunnel. Lilly meditated for a few seconds, then spoke. “We must take the path to the right.” Aric led them to the right without argument.

“Well, Hec, I've always heard that it's the size of the Archon's Tower in New Poliston, and it's got horrible slimy skin,” Aric continued.

“I hear it has scales,” said Burr.

“Nope. Sorry, Burr, it's definitely slimy.”

“Is it related to the Bandersnatch, or perhaps to the Snark?” Hector asked.

“It is unlike anything, living or dead, that you have ever before heard of,” Lilly said ominously.

“But nobody actually knows what it's like? Lilly, your shaman said that a Tove named Mountain wounded the Jabberwock a thousand years ago; didn't he come back and tell everyone what the Jabberwock is like?”

“He did not come back, and the records do not have a description of the beast itself.”

“He didn't... oh.” Hector thought for a moment. “What tribe was he from?”

“Aztlav,” Burr instantly answered.

“What do you know of Mountain, then, Burr?” Aric wondered.

“He was a king. He went out to slay the Jabberwock to protect his people. It is all I know.”

“I'm not gonna lie,” Aric said, “The fact that nobody knows for sure what the Jabberwock's like, plus the fact that Mountain didn't kill it when he had the chance, kinda makes me nervous. Makes you wonder why he didn't finish it off.”

Nobody spoke for a while after that. Lilly guided them up and down, left and right, through the Tumtum tree's tunnels, and all Hector could think about were slimy wings and terrible claws. He started muttering to himself.

“What's that you're mumbling back there?” Aric said. “Please don't whisper at us in the dark, it's creepy enough as it is.”

“I'm just remembering a part from The Adventures of Sir Jimbo,” Hector explained. “It's one of my favorites, and it has to do with him completing his quest.”

“Out with it, then,” Aric said theatrically.

Hector cleared his throat.

“Then Jimbo left that village,

And crossed the valley fair

To sample woodland atmosphere

And taste the ocean air!

He forged a path through swampland

(Having to skip Saint Grilbag's Feast)

He even found the Bork-Troll's son

And slayed that nasty beast!

Then in the windy dustland,

Without a gnurd to spare,

Sir Jimbo dug with trowel

And found a grobbit there.

'O what a day for digging!'

Jim chortled in his mirth,

'To find such bocious treasure

On such a plot of earth!'”

Hector smiled, glowing with pride, and he hoped that the silence that followed his recitation was one of awe and grandeur and not one of awkward confusion. After a while, Aric coughed.

“Yes. Very... inspiring, Hector. Thank you... I think.”

When nobody else commented, Hector spoke up again. “You know, this whole adventure has been pretty hectic and confusing. It's even been dangerous and frightening, at times. But I can't help hoping that maybe some day somebody will think to tell our story to their children around the fireplace.”

“You could write that story, Hector Blithe,” Lilly suggested amiably.

“Just make sure to make us look good,” Aric said.

Hector laughed at the thought. “No, I'm no good at writing. I love reading, but I've never written anything myself. It would be silly.”

“I would very much like to read it, even if it were silly,” Lilly said.

“Me too,” said Aric.

With his hand on Burr's shoulder, he felt the young Tove's head droop. He gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Don't worry, we'll teach you how to read,” he whispered, and Burr perked up.

Suddenly Aric put his hand up and stopped dead in his tracks. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down!” he hissed. Then Hector realized that he could see Aric put his hand up, and he realized that the darkness wasn't so absolute here. A faint, bluish light emanated from the dozens of mushrooms that dotted the walls and ceiling. Hector slowly released Burr's shoulder and looked around in awe.

The tunnel had opened up into a vast chamber, which, upon further inspection, was much larger than it had seemed from the dark passageway. Not dozens, but hundreds upon thousands of the glowing mushrooms filled every last inch of surface space in the cavern, which must have been several stories tall and big enough to house the Dunberg City Library. Hector gasped and took a few aimless steps. Lilly gently stroked several mushrooms and carefully sniffed them. Aric slapped Burr's hand and made him spit out one that he had put in his mouth.

“What is this place?” Hector said dreamily.

“It looks like a natural cavern,” Aric answered slowly, as he craned his neck to examine the ceiling. The mushroom-light made strange shadows on his face. “But you can never tell with the Tulgey Wood. There don't seem to be any exits. What do you think, Lilly?”

“We are very close to the Jabberwock,” she said. Hector swallowed. Lilly closed her eyes and idly felt along the wall. She inhaled deeply. “It smells of human. Of Mome Rath. Professor Trellis was here recently.” With her eyes still closed, she sniffed and sniffed, following an invisible path until she reached what appeared to be another solid wall, covered with the blue fungi. “The trail leads here, but I see no door.”

“Can you see any more Gimble?” Hector asked. Lilly examined the wall and shook her head.

“I could blast a door,” Burr offered eagerly, but Aric placed a hand on Burr's chest as he gazed around the room.

“No, buddy, I don't think that'd be such a great idea. Let's think first, shoot lightning later.”

“He had to have left this room through this door, for the trail really does end here,” Lilly insisted. Apologizing softly to the mushrooms, she plucked them off the dirt wall and tossed the still-glowing things on the ground. She worked systematically until she had cleared an area about the same size and shape as the hole they had originally entered on the surface. The wall was made nearly entirely of solid earth; a few mushroom stumps poked through and a couple hairy roots were laid bare, but other than that it seemed like a normal, solid wall. “I hope Burr does not have to cut himself again,” Lilly said half-jokingly, and Burr nodded in agreement.

“Hold on, what's this?” Aric said curiously, and approached the bare space. He ran his hands over the surface, took out his knife and scraped away a decent amount of dirt. “Ah, yep, here it is,” he said with relief, and stepped back. In the center of the space where he had scraped away at the wall – a circle about two handspans in diameter – a complicated rune had been cut deep into the dirt. As Hector watched, the rune began to glow a deep green color.

“What is that?” he asked.

Aric pointed to its various parts in a knowledgeable manner. “This, my friends, is a rune of secret passage. It's not used for opening doors, but rather for closing them. See, there was originally an opening here, say about an hour ago. But the good Professor drew this rune on the ground, and the dirt and mushrooms rose up to fill the space. Like the door had never existed. He's a clever bloke, but not clever enough to escape our Guide!” Lilly folded her arms and smiled proudly.

“So how do we get through?” Burr asked.

Aric clapped him on the shoulder. “That's where you come in handy, my prickly friend. Fire away. Everyone else, stand back.”

Hector gathered with Aric and Lilly some distance away, while Burr flexed his fists. Starting at his shoulders and moving toward his fists, electric flashes lit up Burr's thick hair. With a shout, Burr thrust both his hands together, and a rod of lightning leaped from his body and onto the wall. The explosion left a resounding ringing sound in Hector's ears, but after the dust cleared there was a clear doorway blasted in the smoking earth. The wall had been about two feet thick at that location, and beyond that a new tunnel stretched on into the dark.

“After him!” Hector cried, and the four of them crawled through the hole.

*

Trisha brought her club down heavily on an attacking human's head, and the lady crumpled to the ground. Amid the battle, she spared a glance up at the huge tree, the one they called the Tumtum. Something about it didn't seem right; it was as though the tree were melting somehow. The branches sagged, and parts of them were falling off before her very eyes, leaving dark, fibrous holes that leaked a brownish dust. Leaves fell like snow from the sky, but they weren't the leaves of late November; they seemed green and whole, but as soon as they touched the ground or anything else, they instantly crumbled to powder.

“What's up with that tree?” she shouted. “What's wrong with it? Is something bad about to happen?”

“The Jabberwock is about to come free,” shouted back the girl Tove, the first one that Hector had freed from Mome Rath mind control. She stood at Trisha's back with her own heavy stick, and batted away the cultists that dared come close. The battle was going rather well. Trisha and her companions were outnumbered nearly three to one, but thanks to the Jubjub bird and the huge Bandersnatch lizard – whom they had recruited on the way to the Tulgey Wood – and a lack of tactical organization on the Mome Raths' part, they had driven off most of the enemy. The last remaining Mome Raths scurried away to regroup with their fellows, who had bunched together somewhere on the other side of the rotting Tumtum tree.

Trisha gasped for breath and propped herself up with her stick. Tom was all right, sitting on top of his boulder with an endless supply of rocks for his slingshot, while the town clerk Gribley had been instrumental in countering magical attacks with his own. The friendly Toves gathered around and began talking in Tovish.

Trisha grabbed the girl Tove's arm before she could turn away. “Hey, you, what's your name?”

“Meadow. And yours?”

“Trisha. Nice to meet you,” Trisha panted, and shook Meadow's furry hand. That brown Tove with the white patch on his chest approached. He was bleeding in several places, but didn't seem to notice or care. He was smiling.

“We have won!” he exulted. The Toves around him cheered; he seemed like a natural leader, like an alpha male, if the Toves had such a thing. “We have driven away the cowards. We have captured many of our enslaved brethren, and they await the yellow-haired man to return to them their Gyres.”

Trisha glanced over the man's shoulder and saw a pile of unconscious black-robed Tove thralls. The Mome Raths that Aric had befriended, the Sneaky Hand of Banishing, stood in a group, excitedly discussing a book that they passed around among themselves, but at second glance it wasn't the Manxor Slithe. “Remind me of your name, mister?” Trisha asked of the brown-furred Tovish man.

“I am Thorn, of the Aztlav,” he said, and bowed formally. “Trisha of the Blithe tribe, we await your command. I and my warriors will go and finish off the traitors, while you may enter the tree and follow the One Who Reads, that we may free our companions.”

Trisha opened her mouth to speak, but Mr. Gribley appeared at Thorn's side with a nervous look on his face. “Um, actually, I think we'd best stick together for the next while...”

“What for?” Thorn said with invincible confidence. “They are already broken and defeated. I and my warriors have--”

“No, you don't know the Mome Raths,” Gribley shook his head, close to laughing with anxiety. “They'll be back any second now, and they have more than a few nasty secrets up their sleeves. The ancient magic is very... how can I put it... resourceful.”

“Resourceful?” Trisha asked, and as if on cue, an eerie screech rent the air, accompanied by a pallid purple light. The screech suddenly cut off, but was replaced with sound that made Trisha envision hundreds of snakes slithering through the dirt at once.

Gribley moaned. “Oh no.”

“Now what?” Trisha demanded, and seized the clerk's arm. She shook him. “What have they done?”

He looked at Trisha despondently. “They've created a Boojum.”

“Retreat! They have a Boojum!” Thorn bellowed. The Toves scattered like cockroaches. Trisha gulped.

“Um... should we run?”

Gribley nodded even as he turned toward the glowing forest behind them. “Yes, Trisha, I think running would be a good idea right about now.”

*

Chapter 6, Part iii

Hector blinked to remove the afterimage of the light from his eyes. Tears came away as he did so. Choking back a sob, he looked toward Lilly and saw her body lying inert on the ground. The Mome Raths crowded around her; somebody produced a familiar black robe and knelt down next to her, blocking Hector's view. He saw River rub his hands together curiously, and a light glimmered between his palms. A breeze kicked up from nowhere and surged across the group of excited cultists. Hector was stung, as it reminded him of the time that Lilly had shown him her Gyre after rescuing him from the Jubjub bird; however, River's eyes were devoid of pleasure. He seemed bitter about something.

The crowd eventually pulled itself away, and revealed a solitary figure standing alone and wearing a hooded black robe. “Over here, if you please,” Virchuk said amiably to what had once been Lilly, and pointed to a spot to his side. The husk instantly obeyed and stood like a statue beside him. A roguish smile crossed the Doctor's face. “Now, to the prickly one.”

River, his face still ashen, removed his foot from Burr and stepped out of the circle. Gribley opened the book, but Doctor Virchuk thought better of it and gently took it from the clerk's limp hands. “On second thought, Mr. Gribley, I'd like to do this myself. It's not every day we get such a special guest as an heir to the Aztlav throne.”

An excited muttering swept through the gathered Mome Raths, and Hector heard the word Aztlav several times.

Doctor Virchuk held up his delicate hand for silence. “As most of you have heard, the Aztlav tribe is famous for being the previous owners of this very Borogrove, the Tulgey Wood. Apart from being the royal line that once ruled all Toves in this land now known as New Hume, they were renowned librarians and scholars. Not any more, sadly, but once they were great and powerful. Truly, it is an honor to have such a guest among our numbers. You will make a fine servant for our liegelord, the good Professor Trellis.

“However! Very few of you may know of the Aztlav tribe's distinguishing feature: their remarkably potent Gyres. Legend has it that the Aztlav kings could summon great tidal waves, create raging tornadoes and conjure fierce blizzards that could freeze an entire army solid. I thought that you would appreciate this bit, Sir River.” River made no move to reply. “So, little one, what is your Gyre?”

Burr only stared balefully at Doctor Virchuk.

“Oh! So you don't have one yet, do you? How depressing. Oh well. It's in there somewhere, and we can most definitely root it out for you.” He opened the book to the correct page and placed his thin finger on the spot. “Without further ado: Manxori--”

Suddenly, the not-Lilly thrall delivered a sweeping kick to Doctor Virchuk's ankles that felled him in an instant. The book flew out of his hands; she caught it deftly and with the same smooth movement hurled it into the face of Hector's guard. It took the man completely by surprise and knocked him out cold. Confused but encouraged, Hector seized his chance and scooped up the book, taking off toward a space between groups of stunned Mome Raths. Another group of them appeared from behind a root of the Tumtum tree, and Hector turned as if to run, but they raised their hands in peace.

One of them, a woman with a pinched face who seemed to be their leader, smiled at him. It wasn't a very experienced smile, so it looked more like a scowl, but Hector stopped running. “Hold your peace, good Librarian! I am Chairlady Semmerfish. We have looked for just the chance to strike at our opponents, the Honorable Guild of the Mome Raths. We are of the Sneaky Hand of Banishment, a rival faction. If you give us that book you hold, we can sow much chaos among them for you!”

Hector gave her a blank stare, purely out of shock. However, he suddenly spotted Aric's face in the distance. The man winked dramatically and gave Hector a thumbs-up.

“Here you go,” Hector said, and thrust the book toward the woman. Her face split into a wicked grin and stroked the book eagerly.

“Thank you, dear boy. Come, my colleagues, let us put them to shame.” They leaped over the root and chased after the knot of Mome Raths who were by Lilly and Burr--

“Oh no! Burr!” Hector realized, and started running back toward the group. Aric appeared by his side and gripped his arm.

“Hec, don't go! I talked to the Sneaky Hand, they really have a grudge against the other Mome Raths! They're on our side, I swear! The other Toves and the Jubjub bird are on their way to rescue Lilly and Burr--”

Hector shook him off. “No, you don't understand! They're going to kill Burr!

“What!” Aric shouted, and the two of them charged back into the fray. Hector shoved aside quarreling men, women and de-slithed Toves as he raced to the spot where Burr had been. He stopped in alarm.

In front of him was River, and he was holding Burr in the air by the neck with a single arm. Burr struggled and scratched, but River was too strong. River sneered.

“So you've got friends among us, do you?” he was saying. “Think you can get away? Well, if I can't take your Gyre from you, I'll just have to end your miserable life. Can't have you running around causing any more trouble. It's a pity that you're one of the last of your line. Soon there will be no more Aztlav kings ever again.”

“Burr!” Hector shouted, but without looking, River flicked his hand in Hector's direction, and a huge billow of air shoved him off the ground. He landed painfully on his back and couldn't breathe for a moment. Aric was thrown into a tree with a horrible cracking sound. He fell motionless to the dirt.

“Time to die, little pup,” River said, and raised his free hand. He bared his claws, which burst into white-hot flames, ready to tear Burr's heart from his chest.

But something else happened.

(Graphic 6.6: Held up by the neck by River, Burr's eyes suddenly begin to glow. His fur stands on end. Energy crackles around them, and River stares at him with increasing panic. Suddenly, Burr opens his mouth to roar, and out comes a blinding bolt of lighting which blasts a ten-foot-wide crater in the earth.)

River fell slowly, as if through water, and landed like a rag doll. Burr landed deftly and pounced upon him, claws and teeth bared. River's body turned to stone in response, but Burr lifted his arm in the air and swung it down at him. In mid-air another blast of lightning erupted from his fist and shook the whole earth as he brought it down onto River's chest.

Somehow River survived, shoved Burr off and scrambled to his feet, but he was clearly dazed. His body shifted back to normal, and he turned just in time to see Burr tackling him again. The two fought ferociously, not unlike before, except this time Burr attacked relentlessly and with a renewed strength while River was constantly on the defensive. It was all he could do to block and deflect Burr's blows. When Burr wasn't striking with his fists, feet, claws or skull, he loosed brilliant bolts of lightning that split the air with their thunder. So they continued, each blow like a sledgehammer against quarry stone, and soon River retreated until he was pinned against the Tumtum tree.

River was too exhausted and broken to successfully block Burr's attacks, so Burr took the chance and seized River's throat. Burr's muscles rippled as he flexed his arm. River gave a strangled cough and scrabbled for release.

“How-- how could you – defeat-- me?” he gasped. “I-- gack – trained with the best --”

“Ever played Galum?” Burr asked with a secretive smirk.

River's eyebrows screwed together in consternation. “Galum? No --”

“Is very violent game,” Burr explained, and in two deft movements delivered a concussive blow to River's jaw and then – to Hector's awe – picked River up, lifted him above his head, then threw him several yards. River landed heavily, rolling several times, and came to a stop. He didn't get up.

Burr stood panting, his fur soaked with sweat, with a triumphant, open-mouthed grin on his face. He glanced at Hector, who gave him a thumbs-up. “Good job,” Hector said, still recovering from the sight of the battle.

Burr nodded in agreement. “Yes... It was a good job,” he puffed.

Hector crawled over to Aric and shook his shoulder. Aric slowly rose and shook the grogginess from his head. “Wow... where's River? What happened?” Hector pointed at River, who was still lying where Burr had thrown him. He was breathing heavily, facing away from them, but otherwise he wasn't moving. “I repeat,” Aric said slowly. “What happened?”

“Burr gave River a thrashing he won't soon forget,” Hector explained. He helped Aric to his feet. “And it also looks like Burr found his Gyre!”

Aric nodded approvingly at Burr. “Congratulations,” he said, but then his face turned grim. “River deserved it. But that thrashing he got probably hurt his pride more than his body; we should finish him off right now before he decides to take his vengeance.”

“What!” Hector exclaimed incredulously. Aric pulled a dagger from inside his coat and gripped it tightly.

“Hector, he's far too dangerous. We can't let him live. Either that, or we take away his Gyre – Gyres, sorry – and turn him into a zombie. Which do you prefer?”

Hector shook his head. The sounds of battle still filled the Tulgey Wood as the freed Toves fought the enslaved ones, and while the Mome Raths fought each other. “I won't hear of it, Aric. If we killed or enslaved him, we would be just as bad as the Mome Raths. And besides, you would have to answer to Lilly if you killed him.”

Aric hesitated, then quickly looked around. “By the way, where is Lilly? The last time I saw her was when she and Burr got captured.”

Hector's face fell. Burr appeared at his side and sniffed sadly. “They taked her Gyre away,” he said gloomily. Aric's shoulders sagged.

“They did, did they?... Well, we can just put it back, right? We'd just have to find her before our friends mistake her for the enemy and stick a knife through 'er.”

“Don't talk like that,” Hector chided, then pulled Aric and Burr toward the Tumtum tree so they wouldn't be seen and attacked. They hid behind a root, watching the battle intensify: more than one Mome Rath lay bleeding on the ground, and quite a few Toves, both freed and enslaved. “In theory, yes, I could give her back her Gyre. But I'd need the Manxor Slithe, because I honestly can't remember the words of the ritual. And besides... something seemed strange about her after they changed her. She attacked that man, Doctor Virchuk, without anyone commanding her to do so.”

“Maybe she had not been enslaved,” said a familiar voice from behind them.

(Graphic 6.7: Hector, Burr and Aric turn around and see Lilly behind them. She has a warm smile on her face.)

“Lilly!” Hector gasped. “Lilly! Is... is it really... you know, you?”

“Yes, it is me,” she said, and laughed as Hector threw his arms around her neck. Burr followed suit, and she squeezed them close. “That was the most frightening thing that has ever happened to me,” she said quietly.

“Even more frightening than the Bandersnatch?” Hector asked. Lilly's fur was rougher than it appeared, and it tickled his cheek.

“Even more than the Bandersnatch.”

The three released each other. “But I don't understand,” Hector continued, “I saw them take the Gyre from you. At least, there was that huge flash of light, and then-- And then you were still free to act for yourself? Do you still have your Gyre or not?”

Lilly shook her head. “I do not. I feel... weak. I feel deaf and half-blind. I am missing a part of my soul. Yes, I still am in control of my mind, but I believe that someone else can explain why better than I can.” She motioned with her head toward a shadow by the tree. There emerged from the darkness a silhouette which materialized into Eugene Gribley. The man had lost his glasses somewhere.

“Mr. Gribley!” Hector cried.

“Don't go hugging him too,” Aric playfully warned.

“Hello, Hector,” said the clerk. He absentmindedly tugged at the front of his black vest. “I suppose you want to know what I did to Lilly, so that she would still have her mind. I simply added an extra word to the ritual, so it would take her Gyre but leave her in control of her faculties.”

“Boy, I bet Doctor Virchuk had a fit!” Hector exulted. He grabbed Gribley's hand and pumped it in congratulations. “Good for you! But why did you do it?”

“You were right, Hector,” the man admitted with relief. “You were so right. It's not worth staying with the Mome Raths. They're heartless and evil. You can count me on your side now.”

“And when we get back, you can join our book club! What do you think?”

“I should like that very much.” His voice was firmer than Hector remembered, and there was a gleam in his eye that hadn't been there before.

“You know what? I like you better without your glasses,” Hector said, and finally released his hand.

“Thank you. I think I see better without them anyway.”

Everybody jumped in alarm as there was a sudden cracking, collapsing sort of noise. All turned to see Burr stepping over the root – but his foot had sunk straight into the wood, up to his knee. He twisted around in confusion.

“Ay! What does it to me!”

“The tree is dying,” Lilly said quietly. “The Jabberwock awakes. If we are to stop it, we must stop it right now, for thus said the togom that I met here.”

“There is togom here?” Burr asked incredulously. He finally managed to free himself from the rotting root, and stumbled backwards.

“Yes, there is. She showed me a hole in the tree that leads downward into the beast's lair... we must go there now.”

Hector thought as quickly as he could. “But we need the vorpal sword, and last I knew, Professor Trellis had it. Aric, did you get it back?” Aric gave a worried shrug.

“I actually haven't seen the Professor at all since we got captured. Maybe he--”

Gribley spoke up. “He entered that hole, and he has both the vorpal sword and the Manxor Slithe. You'd better hurry after him!”

“Come with us!” Hector entreated. “You can help us stop the Professor!”

But Gribley shook his head. “No, I'll stay on the surface and keep them from following you. I have some tricks up my sleeve to keep the others at bay.”

“Are you sure?”

Gribley nodded, so Hector nodded in agreement.

“All right. Lilly, where's that hole?”

“It is on the other side of the tree. It would be fastest to cut across the place where they are fighting,” she said, and slowly forced herself to her feet.

“Are you sure?” Everyone winced as an explosion shook the air. “Sounds pretty dangerous to me, and you're in no condition to fight.”

She shrugged wearily. “But I can walk. Let us hurry.”

“Come on,” Aric urged, and together the five of them made their way into the field of battle.

The going was rough. Not only were Toves slinging fire and stones chaotically through the air, but the Mome Raths were hacking and stabbing at each other with strangely shaped daggers and staves. Random explosions riddled the ground with glowing craters, which Aric constantly guided them around.

“Rune-mines,” he explained. “One of the ancient magics. Step on one and you're toast.”

They stayed as close to the massive tree as they could, but suddenly they were spotted by a handful of stray Mome Raths. One of them started drawing in the air with what looked like a curly pencil, but which left glowing purple lines in the air.

“Run!” Aric shouted, and shoved the others forward. Mere inches behind them, the tree bark burst into purple flames. Lilly stumbled, and Aric swung her arm over his shoulders to be her crutch. They hopped over a fallen log and several fallen bodies. The madness, chaos, noise and danger nearly overwhelmed Hector.

There was a group of Toves fighting each other close to the Tumtum tree, so in a split-second decision they danced around them. Hector kept his head down as they charged through an arcane firefight. Suddenly a Mome Rath leaped toward Hector with a curved dagger in his hand. Burr jumped between them and a bolt of lightning ripped through the air and struck the man, who tumbled to the ground in a smoking heap. Hector grimaced but thanked Burr, and they continued. Hector breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Trisha, Tom and the Jubjub bird backed against a mossy boulder: Tom had his trusty slingshot ready, and Trisha had acquired a long, thick stick for a club. The Jubjub bird was ranting about how handsome he was as he flapped his wings and snapped his beak at his foes.

“There, it is there!” Lilly called out, and pointed toward a spot next to a demolished root of the Tumtum tree. Sure enough, there was a black hole in the bark, just tall enough for one person to enter. They rushed toward it, covering their heads as a shower of gravel and dirt pelted them. Just before they arrived at the hole, however, a man resembling a guidance counselor stepped in front of them.

“Not so fast, my friends,” said Doctor Virchuk. A squad of Mome Raths and de-slithed Toves bunched up behind him. In the battle, the Doctor's neat ponytail had come undone, leaving his face shrouded with long gray hairs. “This area is off-limits. And I have a score to settle with you, Lilly of Noosta,” he said, and licked his lips hungrily. He took a step forward, and Burr took a place between him and Lilly. Blue energy crackled between the tips of his fur as he bunched his fists.

To Hector's surprise, the Doctor chuckled. “I'd be careful about killing me, Aztlav prince,” he said, and dramatically produced something from his pocket. It looked like an hourglass, but with six bulbs in a disk formation, and an intricate wire frame around it. “See this? It's a blastoid reflex-discharger, which has been synced to my biorhythm.”

“You villain!” Aric gasped. When Hector blinked in confusion, Aric translated. “If he dies, that thing explodes, and it'll take half the Borogrove with it.”

“Oh,” Hector said. Burr reluctantly lowered his fists, and the crackling stopped.

“That's a good boy,” the Doctor said pleasantly. “Now. Come with us, and nobody has to get hurt.”

“Except for us, you mean,” Aric jeered, and the Doctor gave a light laugh.

“Ah, dear Gerard. So astute, as always. Get them, boys.”

The collected Mome Raths and Toves charged them, but suddenly froze in their tracks, looking at a point above Hector's head. “What is it?” Doctor Virchuk asked, looking at his soldiers. “Why did you stop? Get them, I said!” Then he followed their gaze and looked upward. His jaw fell open in fear.

Curious, Hector risked a glance behind himself.

(Graphic 6.8: The Bandersnatch towers behind Hector and the others. It flares its fronds, and while the Mome Raths are put in a blissful, dreamlike coma state, the heroes escape.)

“When did he get here?” Aric wondered, pointing his thumb back toward the Bandersnatch.

“I'm just glad he did,” Gribley said simply.

Lilly slid her arm off of Aric's shoulders and propped herself against the bark. It was softer than it seemed, and she sank inward several inches before standing upright. “Let us enter,” she panted, and gestured once more to the dark hole. Aric seemed wary, but Burr shrugged and entered. Aric followed.

“Are you sure you're all right?” Hector asked. Lilly waved away the comment.

“I am fine... just tired, that is all. Without my Gyre I feel so weak. But I will be fine.”

“We'll get you your Gyre back soon enough,” Hector reassured her. She nodded gratefully. Hector turned toward Eugene Gribley and took him by the hand. “Mr. Gribley, thank you for all you've done today. And every day. You're a hero.”

Gribley humbly dismissed the compliment, and squeezed Hector's hand. “Mr. Blithe... if something should happen to you or me today, please know that it has been a pleasure to work alongside you... if only for one day.”

“We'll both be fine, just you wait and see.” Hector winked at him, then turned to enter the cave. “Take care of yourself, Mr. Gribley! I'll see you back in Dunberg.”

“See you there,” he said, and with Lilly, Hector entered the Jabberwock's lair.

Chapter 6, Part ii

 Lilly knew that Hector had hid behind the log. She tried her best not to let her fear show as the enslaved Tove stalked closer and closer to his hiding-spot. The human who had captured them was saying something, but Lilly wasn't paying attention to him; her eyes couldn't leave that deadly creature as it scented the air.

It leaned over the log and spotted him. Even as it coiled up to pounce, Lilly ignited her Gyre and shoved a hard ball of air as hard as she could at it. The Gyre struck the Tove in the small of the back, which sent it tumbling over the log. There was a sudden tumult as their captor cried out, and two of the slaves seized Lilly by the arms. They pulled her to her feet, and the Mome Rath human rudely grabbed her snout with his gloved hand. She tugged her head this way and that, but he squeezed until her eyes watered with pain as his fingers dug into her sinuses.

“You insolent cur! We'll have your Gyre first, so you can't go about causing trouble with it! How does that sound to you?”

Against her will, Lilly whimpered, then hardened her face and growled deep in her throat as the horrible human chuckled. “Let's see how feisty you are when you join our ranks, eh?”

But suddenly, there was a bright flash of light from behind, from where the de-slithed Tove had fallen. The air was filled with a rush of crackling sounds, and a strange energy that made Lilly's ears twitch madly. The Mome Rath's anger was gone, replaced by dumbfounded shock as he stared over Lilly's shoulder. His hand now slack, she twisted her head around to see.

*

The black-clad creature lay still in the center of the circle that Hector had drawn. He blinked his eyes to clear his vision from the bright flash that had followed his incantation from the Manxor Slithe. In an almost embarrassing silence, Hector shifted closer and poked the inert assailant on the shoulder.

The Tove moved. With a slight groan, it shifted and slowly pushed itself up from the ground. It said something in the Tovish language, and Hector realized that it was a woman. She pulled herself to her knees and rubbed her head, and upon finding that she wore a hood, pushed it back and blinked in confusion.

(Graphic 6.4: The Tove is the same one that Professor Trellis had revealed when Aric was captured for the first time. Hector is pleasantly surprised.)

“Hello,” Hector couldn't help saying. The Tovish girl – for she did seem to be but a girl, much younger than Lilly – blinked again and squinted at him.

“Who are you?” she said groggily.

“A friend. Do you have your Gyre?” Hector quickly asked.

The girl's mind seemed sluggish. “My... Gyre? I...” She shook her head, closed her eyes and spread her gloved hands out on the ground. A faint glow surrounded her whole person for a moment, then vanished. She opened her eyes and looked at Hector triumphantly. “I do. I do! I can feel the earth again!”

Hector smiled, but before he could respond, another Tove leaped over the log and tackled him. Then, even before he could scream, his attacker was ripped away; Hector scrabbled for safety and tried to make sense of the situation.

“Free him!” grunted the girl as she held an arm tightly around the other Tove's neck. “Quickly! As you did to me! Free him!”

“Oh. Right!” Hector stammered, and raced to draw another circle around the two of them as they struggled together. He quickly closed the two edges and drew the corresponding runes at the right points, just like the diagram in the book indicated, then tried his best to pronounce the key phrase exactly when the girl planted her foot on her opponent's back and jumped out of the circle.

Even before he had finished the final word of the spell, the circle in the dirt glowed a fierce white, and the glare blasted skyward. It hung in the air for a moment, like a shimmering, circular wall, and then collapsed in a blinding flash upon the figure in the center.

Hector blinked, rubbed his eyes, and coughed. Clearing the dust from his eyes, he watched in awe as the would-be killer slowly came to his senses. Just like the girl before him, the Tove mumbled to himself and stood on shaky knees. He groped about his own person, then vehemently tore the black robe away. He gripped it with his teeth and shredded the thing to pieces, casting the hated cloak on the forest floor and snarling at it. He wore no shirt underneath, only a pair of black Mome Rath trousers. This Tove, a young male, had brown, bristly fur like Burr, except for a white patch in the middle of his chest and a whitish muzzle. He stared at the girl, then at Hector, with a straight-shouldered bearing that was at the same time controlled and feral.

He said something that Hector didn't understand. He repeated it angrily, and when the girl realized that he didn't understand, she said something to the young man in Tovish. He nodded and a toothy, savage grin split his face. He faced the rest of the Tovish slaves – who had stood inert while their companions had gone through their change – and Hector saw the human Mome Rath quail.

“Let's get outta here,” he cried to his servants, and turned to flee. The remaining five Toves followed suit, dragging the thrashing Lilly, Aric and Tom with them.

“Lilly!” Burr shouted. As one, Trisha, Aric, and the two Toves took off after the Mome Raths while Hector stumbled along in their wake. In a matter of seconds, Hector's companions tackled two of the de-slithed Toves and pinned them to the ground. Tom spilled to the dirt, free from his captor, but and Lilly were scooped up and spirited away into the gloom.

“No!” Tom yelled, and made as if to follow them, but the girl Tove grabbed him by the collar and held him in place.

“Do not follow them! We will rescue them by and by,” she reassured him.

“Who even says 'by and by' any more?” Tom complained, but didn't give chase. She released him.

Trisha watched with interest as Hector hastily sketched the ritual circles around the squirming black thralls. “Jump out when I say rjaklie,” Hector warned her, and Trisha nodded with wild eyes. He quickly opened the book, cleared his throat, and spoke.

“Manxori geoseg slaethia gyraes rjaklie!” he pronounced, and snapped the Manxor Slithe shut with a flourish. Trisha and the male Tove leaped away just as the brilliant lights exploded once more from the ground. For some reason, watching the swirling white glow implode inward gave Hector an immense feeling of happiness.

In the silence that followed, the girl and the brown-furred man pulled back the hoods of the freed Toves. The four of them talked sensibly in Tovish, and rose to their feet.

“So... they're not going to try to kill us any more?” Trisha asked warily, glancing suspiciously at the creatures. Hector shook his head confidently.

“Nope! I've given them their Gyres back. They're our friends now, just like they should be.”

Trisha didn't seem so sure, but she refrained from attacking them. Aric appeared at Hector's side and brought his concerned face close. “Hec, what did you do? How-- I don't get it. I've studied that process for ages. How did you give them back their slithe?”

“Oh, that?” Hector shrugged and flipped open the page with the circular diagram that he had used. “It's right here. See those runes at the top? They say 'How To Restore the Gyre to the Tove.' It's actually right there on the table of contents.” Aric blinked absently at Hector, then shook his head.

“Whatever. I'm just glad it worked. No wonder the Mome Raths were looking for that blasted thing.”

“You, book-bearer, thank you for freeing us,” said the brown-and-white Tove to Hector. His accent was strong and unused to speaking Humish, but his voice was firm and commanding. “We would like to have our revenge on the evil ones. Will you aid us?”

Hector nodded, but carefully added, “Well, they're not strictly evil, per se, not all of them; it would be rude to jump to the conclusion that--”

“He means yes,” Trisha said, with her hand clamped over Hector's mouth. The four Toves cheered out loud at the prospect.

“It's good to have them on our side,” Aric quietly mused behind Hector and Trisha. He stepped forward and caught everyone's attention. “Hey, listen up! Feel free to cause as much mayhem as you want. But we need the golden sword so we can stop the Jabberwock. Hector, you go with the Toves and give the others their Gyres back. Make sure they don't do anything nasty to Burr or Lilly, okay? And Trisha and Tom, you're with me. We're going after Professor Trellis.”

“What about River?” Hector asked. “He's not going to let us stop the Professor.”

“You let me worry about River,” Aric smirked, and poked himself in the chest with his thumb. “All right, let's go! We've no time to lose!”

*

Before the Mome Raths even noticed that something was going on, Hector's squad of Toves had already taken down three de-slithed sentries. One of the humans, who was standing in a large circle with this companions, had the sense to turn around and raise the alarm.

Hector completed the fourth ritual circle and chanted the right words, and in a flash of light another Tove was restored to his normal self. But before he could stand up, a half-dozen guards piled on top of them both. Hector shielded his face with the Manxor Slithe and didn't catch much of what happened next, only that there was a lot of snarling and yelping involved. When the air cleared – except for the alarmed shouts and oaths of vengeance from the freed Toves – Hector scrambled to his feet and started drawing more circles.

“Stop him! Don't let him draw those circles!” A human was shouting frantically somewhere. Hector found himself having to flee rather than continue, because of the droves of black-robed servants that singled him out. They leaped over each other and shoved freed Toves out of the way just to get closer to him. Hector slammed the book shut and held it close to his chest as he turned and sprinted through the forest to escape. He tried his best to stay close to the action so he wouldn't get separated from his companions, and for the most part they were able to hold off or take down the pursuing attackers.

Then, suddenly, a shadowy form dropped from the trees and landed heavily right in front of him. Hector stumbled to a halt and turned around, but his Tovish friends were occupied elsewhere. Another de-slithed character came up behind him, then another and another and another. Soon he was completely surrounded, and the thralls moved inward and closed off the circle. There was no escape.

“Heh, do any of you like to read?” Hector laughed nervously.

Without speaking, one of the robed figures lashed out and tore the Manxor Slithe from Hector's grasp. In the blink of an eye it vanished again into the forest.

“Hey, stop!” Hector cried after it, but the rest of the Toves closed in and latched onto him. “Let me go! I need that book! Let me--”

There was a fluttering sound, a high-pitched screech, a muffled thump and a yelp. Hector found himself being roughly tugged around in his cage of Toves as someone or something attacked the group. In the rush and chaos of the fight, Hector caught a sight of the intruder from between the shoulders of his captors. “Jubjub!” he shouted with joy, for it was the Jubjub bird. It gripped the hooded guards with its serrated beak and with a jerk of its neck sent them flying. He took a breath to shout, but a gloved hand covered his mouth.

“I'm handsomer than you!” shouted the bird, and whacked its large beak against a Tove, sending it sprawling to the ground. “And you--” whack “And you--” whack “And you!” Whack!

Soon, the bird was joined by several freed Toves, who ripped at their enemies with startling ferocity. Many of the enslaved Toves fell, but Hector was still held captive; they lifted him off the ground, put him in a headlock and quickly spirited him away into the glowing forest.

Hector didn't know where they were headed, but the sounds of battle grew quieter and farther away. All he could see beyond the black robes were the passing trees with the glowing Gimble writings on them. Suddenly the trees came to an end, and Hector was dropped like a sack of potatoes onto the hard ground. He caught his breath and tried to stand up, but a long, sharp knife was pointed at his throat.

“Ah-ah, I wouldn't move if I was you,” said the plump Mome Rath at the other end of the dagger, with obvious pleasure. Obediently, Hector kept completely still. His heart was pounding mercilessly against his ribs until he thought it might explode. He carefully looked around, then gasped in horror.

In two separate ritual circles – each ringed with various objects lying on the ground – were Burr and Lilly. Each was lying spread-eagled, face-up, with their wrists and ankles pinned to the ground with vines that had sprouted straight from the earth. A strange blue paint covered their temples, neck, and chest, just like Aric had described before. Burr struggled heroically but without any result, while Lilly's eyes were wide and sorrowful as she met Hector's gaze.

“No!” Hector shouted, and the knife was suddenly pressed against his throat.

“Mr. Blithe, I really do suggest that you don't move,” said the fat Mome Rath. “Why don't you just relax and enjoy the show?” Hector swallowed, and the movement made the knife shift against his skin. He began sweating profusely. He realized that there were many Mome Raths gathered around, and they were talking excitedly as they pointed at Lilly, Burr, and even Hector. A few of them even laughed. Strangely, Professor Trellis was not to be found among them.

There was a crunch of boots against the ground as somebody approached the two circles. “Well, well, well,” said the man in the boots. He stood before Hector, with his back to the Toves. His face was thin and pallid, his gray hair was swept back in a neat ponytail, and he had a neatly trimmed goatee that bobbed when he spoke. “Well, Mr. Blithe, at last we meet. My name is Doctor Virchuk. I will be in charge of this little procedure today. Normally we accompany these rituals with much ado and pomp, but I'm afraid that this is not exactly the occasion nor the venue to so extravagantly expend our time. So we will be frugal out of necessity, and begin the process at once.” Doctor Virchuk lifted a finger to beckon somebody closer, but Hector interrupted him.

“Why are you doing this, Doctor? Why prey upon the Toves? They're people too!”

Doctor Virchuk motioned to Hector's guard, who refrained from doing something nasty to Hector with his knife. “My dear friend Hector,” said the Doctor. He squatted down and placed a hand gently on Hector's shoulder. His face and clothing were that of a kindly psychiatrist, but there was a mad gleam in his eye that unsettled Hector. “You claim that they are people. And they most likely are. They do have language, and a culture of sorts, and they are certainly rather anthropomorphic, if I do say so myself. But I'm afraid very little of that actually matters, at least not to me or to my colleagues here. They are most useful for our various projects and experiments, due to their closeness with nature. And so we use what has so graciously been supplied to us, and we use them as fuel.”

“You're a heartless monster, and that's saying a lot coming from me,” Hector said. He tried to pull off his best sneer. “How would you feel if somebody did that to you?”

“They wouldn't dare,” the Doctor said simply. He smiled, patted Hector on the cheek, and stood up. “I think we will give the honor Officiator of the Ritual to one of our newest members. Mr. Gribley, if you would so kindly step forward...”

To Hector's despair, out from the crowd came the spindly figure of Eugene Gribley. The man looked somberly at the Doctor through his glasses – his eyes magnified to several times their normal size by the thick lenses – and dipped his head.

“Y-yes, sir?”

“Take this,” said the Doctor, and handed him a book. It was not the Manxor Slithe. “Mr. Gribley, have you ever performed the Slith-Chora ritual upon a live Tove?”

“N-no, sir.”

The Doctor nodded patiently. “It is very simple, really. All it requires is a certain incantation. If you will please open to page two hundred and seventy-three, paragraph the second, subsection A.” Gribley obeyed with trembling fingers and turned the pages until he found the mentioned page. He looked up at Virchuk with nervous subservience. “Now, Gribley, all you must do is read that loudly and clearly. Come, stand over here, by the girl. We'll do her first, then the brown one. Then we'll take care of the librarian.”

“No! Get away from her!” Burr roared, so loudly that his voice broke. He thrashed with renewed vigor against his bonds and snarled viciously. “Stop it! Get away! Do it to me first!” Lilly, in contrast, was lying completely still. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing calmly and slowly.

“Ignore him,” Doctor Virchuk said offhandedly. Gribley was sweating visibly. Virchuk pointed at the correct phrasing in the book, teaching Gribley the correct pronunciation, but nobody could hear for the cacophony that Burr was raising. Hector moved to crawl closer to Virchuk and Gribley, in hopes that he might be able to do something to stall them, but the man with the knife stepped on his thigh and held the knife's edge firmly against his throat. His neck had never seemed so soft and vulnerable before.

“I been sharpening this all day, and I'm achin' to use it,” the Mome Rath hissed. Hector's elbows gave out and he fell onto his back. His limbs felt drained of strength. What hope did they have? Lilly and Burr had been captured and soon would be mindless slaves. The Manxor Slithe and the vorpal sword were both in the hands of the Mome Raths. The Jabberwock was about to wake up, and the world was about to be destroyed or enslaved. Had all their work been for nothing?

Once he was confident in Gribley's abilities, Doctor Virchuk stepped away and folded his arms as he watched. Tears flew from Burr's eyes as he clenched his teeth at protested. Gribley took a breath to speak, but hesitated when somebody said: “Excuse me, I'm sorry, I just can't stand the noise any more.” The voice's owner appeared from the crowd.

It was River.

The handsome Tove confidently entered Burr's witch-circle and made a show of placing his pawlike foot on Burr's chest. “Burr? Do you see where my foot is? It's at that special point just below your ribs. If you make a single peep, I'll push down, and it will cause you immense pain. Do you understand?”

Burr burned a hole in River with his red-rimmed eyes, but he didn't nod. He did, however, stop shouting and struggling. His limbs trembled with fury. River smiled smugly and folded his arms.

“River?” Hector heard Lilly say quietly. She looked up at him with moving sadness. He acknowledged her casually and examined his sharp nails.

“Oh. Hello there, Lilly.”

Lilly's breathing quickened as she pleaded with him. “River, what has happened to you? How can you do this to me? How could you do this to anyone?” Lilly's breath caught in her throat as she tried to speak. Everyone was silent, even the jeering Mome Raths. “River... I love you. And I thought you loved me back.”

River didn't look up from his black nails, and didn't speak. Lilly continued in a quiet voice that, in the silence, seemed to echo through the entire forest.

“I do not understand what is going on. I do not know why you have done what you have done. But whatever your motives are, you can still help us stop the Jabberwock. If you don't, it will destroy everything you ever cared for. Please, River. Listen to your heart. Do what is right.”

“You're right, Lilly,” River said suddenly. He clenched his fist and looked at her fiercely. “You're right. You don't understand. I have lived my life feeling powerless. Not just as an individual, but as a race. I felt powerless as a representative of our kind, Lilly; of all Toves. The humans were taking our land, and slaying us left and right at their pleasure. I want to save our people.”

“How are you saving us?” Lilly moaned. “By killing us? By betraying us? By betraying me? Taking our livelihood and our Gyre, and enslaving our minds? How is this saving our people, River?”

“All the Mome Raths need is our Gyre, Lilly!” River thundered. He seemed oddly reactive. “They don't need to take our lives! But if we resist them, they will kill us all! Better to be alive than dead, right?”

Lilly panted with emotion, then spoke again in her quiet voice. “River. Do you remember when we were children? When we used to pretend that we traveled to the humans' homeland, and make friends there? We used to play that we could learn from them and they could learn from us. And there were no wars, no killing, and no hatred. All was peace. Do you remember those days? Or have you forgotten them entirely?”

“Child's play, Lilly, it was child's play,” River emphasized, bordering on rudeness. “It had nothing to do with real events. You and I both feared the humans, as did every last Tovish soul in Noosta and in every other Borogrove. There is no middle ground, Lilly. There is no peace. Where there is difference, there will always be inequality, hatred and fear. I have taken the sensible route. The only sensible route. And now it's my turn to ask you: it's not too late to make the right choice. Will you join us? You can keep both your life and your Gyre. Just come with us and we can forge a new world where we will be respected and honored, not hated and hunted. We can be together. What do you say?”

Lilly looked straight up into the green canopy. The fur around her eyes was soaked with tears. She slowly closed her eyes and released the breath she was holding.

“I cannot. I am sorry, River.”

“Give me her Gyre,” River spat, and settled his foot on Burr's chest. The Mome Raths erupted into cheering, and Eugene Gribley opened the book with quivering hands. Hector clenched his fists in agony as he watched Gribley take a breath.

“Manxori tusor zogiea slaethia gyraes mofosis... urosa!”

(Graphic 6.5: Gribley finishes the incantation. A bright light bursts from the witch-circle and envelops Lilly; part of the light flies toward River and strikes him. The light fades.)