The Mission Begins

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"I will see to it," Jauba replied.

"Good, now leave me," Skaar said curtly, "I wish to be alone."

Max circled high above the field at the bottom of the densely vegetated hill where Egbert's 'army' congregated to dig the massive pit so integral to his plan

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Max circled high above the field at the bottom of the densely vegetated hill where Egbert's 'army' congregated to dig the massive pit so integral to his plan. As the parrot rode the thermals he chuckled loudly to himself. Life is so glorious and strange, he thought, so unpredictable and counter-intuitive. He felt happy, not joyous, but simply happy and it was such an odd time to feel that way. He was trapped on an accursed island ruled by a cruel and mysterious cult. His life would doubtless be in dire danger soon, and yet he felt the best he had since his dear friend and companion Ellios passed from this existence over a year earlier. It was purpose, he imagined, that had suffused him with this renewed vigor and elevated mood.

Willum was a blessing to the bird, both had lost someone dear to them. Willum's kindness and generosity of spirit toward Max was in stark contrast to his need for revenge and the fury that seethed in his soul, but both the pirate and the parrot realized that Willum's hatred was a weakness, a weakness the pirate accepted and the bird could avoid.

Max had learned to stop feeling sorry for himself, to realize his stagnating grief was a selfish emotion, hurting his friends and rendering himself into an eternal victim. The darkness enshrouding the parrot's soul passed as suddenly as a sunrise. Purpose, he thought again, purpose was the key and his purpose was to help save his friends who had stood unquestioningly by his side through the darkest of times.

 Purpose, he thought again, purpose was the key and his purpose was to help save his friends who had stood unquestioningly by his side through the darkest of times

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Far below the circling Max, there was another creature in the thralls of happiness. For all his adventures, for all the joy his books brought him, for all the comfort he took from his friends, there was no more satisfying experience to Egbert than digging. Digging tunnels, digging holes, digging anything. He was a mole first and foremost and when his mighty digging claws attacked the soil and stone, his soul sang with a million year old song, a wordless song all moles could hear and all moles could sing with their mighty strokes and strikes.

Even with the considerable digging skills of Egbert and Wilbur, the pit was a big project. The twenty creature crew, comprised of all the volunteers with the exception of the seven beasts who were to play the Scarlet Brothers and the old or infirm, began the excavation at dawn. Egbert traced the outline of the hole at the base of the hill and with Wilbur assisting quickly dug a trench along that outline.

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