The first thing Silversand noticed was that the tunnel was not quite dark. As her eyes adjusted, she found she could see quite clearly, from the stairs beneath her to the pale shape of the walls ahead, even after the light from above was gone. The stairwell circled the boulder at some distance, broadening until even Jay could have passed along it comfortably. Not that he actually would. He didn't like tight spaces.
Silversand pulled up short as her paw missed a foothold.
"What is it?" said Whipper.
"A crumbled step. Watch your paws."
She looked it over, but the stone's disintegration looked like a product of time, not an ancient battle.
The tunnel had completed a half circuit of the boulder and reached a tail-length's depth when suddenly the wall beside Silversand disappeared. She suppressed a squeal of delight.
Her step was level with the ceiling of an almost perfectly circular little room. It was lit by the glow of orange mosses that coated its flat ceiling and dripped down its walls. Hugging the drop to their right, the stairs continued their descent above ledges and alcoves before bottoming out into rich green cushion. The smell gave it away. Thick, squishy moss coated every lower surface. The alcoves filling the walls were lined; the ledges running between them were coated top and sides. Even the walls were padded. Moss rolled over the floor, which beneath its cushion seemed to be made of small boulders. Silversand let Whipper take the lead. The air was still but fresh-smelling as they descended to the bottom of the stairs.
Whipper reached out and pressed the moss. "It's dry!"
Silversand pressed it too. While cool and soft like moss should be, the green pillows were as free of damp as the sand showing in chinks between the boulders beneath them. The moss she had pressed bore no mark. Whipper pressed it again, harder this time, then put his whole weight on the cushy mound. Each time it sprang back undamaged. Whipper grinned at Silversand. She grinned back.
"Sethral! Jay!" shouted the Forester up the stairs. "You have to come see this!"
"No poisons, no traps. I bet this place was a war hideout, or a storm hideout or something!"
"Stormhole..." Sethral eyed Silversand in amusement.
The cat bristled. "I was getting to that!"
"You heard her; it's safe!" said Whipper.
They took one step and stopped again, each defiantly waiting for the other to go first. Whipper made an exasperated noise. He darted behind them and shoved them both head-over-heels into the moss with startling strength. Their retaliations collided. United by a quest for revenge, they scrabbled to their paws to pursue the laughing Forester across and around the room.
Jay turned his attention back to the cave. The ceiling mosses' glow did not quite obscure the warm colours of the walls and the floor moss, and they grew thicker here than anywhere else in the fort. The floor mosses were a new kind entirely, unglowing and large. Their tough outer layer explained their lack of water loss, and the comfortably dry air. It also explained their resilience. The claw-length, stalked stars bounced back undamaged after almost any blow.
It was just as well, for a blow they were certainly taking. Whipper was crouched on a ledge, cornered by Sethral. Silversand flew at him. He caught her paws and swapped their places, bounced off the wall and crashed into Sethral. A screeching hurricane ended with the Saggitayria in a winglock. Whipper ducked Silversand and grabbed her tail, bringing her down on top of Sethral. He hopped on the Royal's back, giggling.
When he finally released them, the three made amends and proceeded to explore every nook and crevice of Stormhole. But the moss was far too soft for productive exploration to last long. Sethral dropped panting beside Jay. The younger renegades were tearing about the cavern, literally bouncing off the walls.
"Find anything interesting?" said Sethral.
'No.' Jay smiled. 'I think Silversand is correct in her instincts. It could a shelter, or an extra infirmary, or a storage room. But most likely a shelter.'
"It is cozy though, isn't it." Sethral gazed around the room. The air was now pleasantly warm from so many active bodies, and kept fresh by the mosses. "Must be nice in the cool season."
Whipper and Silversand finally skidded to a halt in front of them and collapsed in the mosses. "Nothing hidden here that I can tell," panted Whipper. "The walls are solid and the moss feels even. But Silver found this!" He thrust out his paw, showing them a small, copper-coloured object.
Sethral hopped up a stair and peered over Jay's shoulder. "Looks like a youngster's toy."
"I thought so too," said Whipper, "But watch this."
He pinned the object—a crumpled twist of wires—down on the stair. There was a snap as he twisted it sharply.
Silversand leaped to her feet. "You broke it!"
"No, I didn't. Look."
He held up the object again and almost everyone took a step back.
"Give me your paw," said Whipper.
Silversand complied. Whipper slid the contraption over it and fastened something between her pawpads. She lifted it again.
A woven sheath of wire across the back of her paw was secured by a band between her pawpads and the clip at her wrist. Jutting from the front, directly over her own, were claws.
Sethral whistled. "That's a weapon!"
"It's genius," said Whipper. "And look how it fits. Silver, this is from your clan for sure."
"Well, what are you waiting for?" said Sethral. "Give it a try! Go for a rock and see what it can do."
Silversand examined her new outfit in a mixture of unease and fascination. The gauntlet moved with her paw on fine chain links. She could twist, stretch or clench to flex the claws as if they were her own. She turned to the wall and raised her paw hesitantly. It dropped again. "Whipper, I..."
She didn't even know what she wanted to say.
Whipper smiled. "You can do it, Silver."
Silversand took a deep breath, closed her eyes and swiped.
SHINGGGG!
Her friends gasped. Silversand opened one eye a crack, then the other. Three long clawmarks slit the rock before her, cut longer than a pawlength and a claw's width deep.
Sethral ran to the mauled stone, whooping. "Brilliant!"
"You can handle those pretty well," said Whipper. "They're yours now."
The others nodded. Silversand didn't want to open her mouth for fear of blurting out what she really thought. She could hardly fight with her own claws, let alone a lethal, two-claw-length extension. And she shouldn't be given something that could do so much harm in other paws. Maybe it would fit Whipper, or someone else, or—
"Here," said Whipper. He took her paw and showed her how to remove the gauntlet and return it to its closed state. He picked up the now-harmless nugget. "Take it. None of the rest of us can use it. And it's a weapon, Silver." He caught her paw as she tried to back away. The metal was still warm, as though it were a living thing. Whipper closed her toes around it. "We might need that."
Sethral was still crowing in the background. Silversand clenched the little nugget tighter and nodded.
"Good." Whipper's mischievous look returned as Silversand clipped the closed gauntlet to the chain around her neck, where her fur would hide it. "Sethral's not paying attention to us any more."
"I know. What should we do?"
They exchanged a grin. That was a rhetorical question.
A commotion brought the renegades sprinting up from Stormhole as the sun went down. Taz and Fletch collapsed in the main hall, gasping.
'Hyenars!' flicked Taz before they could ask. 'There are packs all over the forest, and the Drakons are swarming. I think Winter's returned!'
Whipper translated for Silversand while Sethral ran to the window.
"No kidding," she yelped, jerking back. The wails of Hyenars on the clifftop sang out over Drakon shrikes. No fewer than four flights were shadowing the pack.
"They treed a squirrel," said Taz, his voice rasping. "I didn't know Hyenars could climb."
A wind sprang up and the Drakons left again, bound for Raventower. Their formation was tight and meaningful.
Fletch's face creased as Jay started pacing at the window. "You can't go out there, Jay. Taz isn't kidding. We almost got caught by three separate packs on our way back here, and that was after getting driven off the flats by Drakons. They've got us trapped."
"But they can't know we're here," said Sethral angrily, "or the Drakons would have gotten into this fort by now. Please tell me they didn't see you come in."
"They didn't," said Fletch. "We jumped through the skylight."
"There's a path up to the top of this plateau, but it's too steep for Hyenars to climb," said Silversand. Her eyes were enormous.
"What I want to know is why there are so many Hyenars in the South forest in the first place!" said Taz. "We damn near got eaten!"
"They're not trying the path, Silver," said Fletch.
"There wouldn't be this many packs in one place if they didn't know we were here though!" said Silversand.
"Taz—"
"We came in by the boulder fields, Seth. They couldn't follow our scent."
"Then none of this makes sense!"
Two more Drakon flights had appeared. Jay attempted to get out the window and was forced back. He backed away.
"Jay!" said Fletch sharply.
The Northlander spun around and ran down the main tunnel.
"Something's up with him," said Fletch. "No, Silver, don't follow! Leave him, he'll calm down eventually. Silver! Stop it, he can be dangerous when he's stressed!"
"But what can I do then?" wailed the cat. "There's Hyenars in the forest and Drakons on the flats, Winter might be back, Jay's been freaking out every time the wind gets windy or he can't get out of the fort, and now we're all trapped so it will only get worse. And I'm hungry!" She buried her face in her paws and burst into tears.
"What did you say about Jay and wind?" said Sethral.
"It's true; I've noticed it too," said Whipper. "Sethral, can you help me get her off the floor and somewhere quieter? We don't want to alert the Drakons."
With Taz and Fletch's help, Silversand was relocated to Stormhole, where she promptly fell asleep.
"I like that idea," said Sethral.
She looked at Whipper, who nodded. "We can talk tomorrow. I call that alcove by the stairs."
"Beat me to it."
He did, then let her share. Taz and Fletch took a ledge nearby.
Whipper waited until he could hear Sethral breathing steadily, then got up and crept quietly out of Stormhole. He could hear soft paws as he entered the main hall. Jay was pacing the length of the main tunnel, sometimes walking, sometimes almost at a run. Whipper edged sideways and tripped on the Stormhole door-slab. The Northlander whipped around at the sound. He darted into the back tunnels.