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Authors: Frances Watts

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3

The Eugenian Range

Alistair couldn't keep his eyes open for long, as the wind made them water, but in any case there was nothing much to see at first as they flew over the hard glittering surface of the Sourian Sea, bathed in moonlight. He screwed his eyes up tight against the wind's buffeting until Feast muttered in his ear, ‘Look, it's the Sourian navy.'

At first it seemed to Alistair that he was looking at a single blaze of light, but when he squinted the blaze separated itself into hundreds of separate lights, each belonging to an individual ship, he guessed. The sky above them was lit up, and even from this distance Alistair could make out the distinctive dome of the Sadiz cathedral.

Oswald murmured something but his words were swept away by the wind.

‘What was that, Os?' Feast called.

‘I said there are Queen's Guards everywhere, posted all along the cliff tops. It's going to be hard to find a place to land.'

‘Try further east,' Slippers Pink called.

The contents of Alistair's stomach seemed to hastily rearrange themselves as Oswald wheeled to the right then levelled out. The giant bird flew on and on, until Alistair was beginning to worry that they'd never be able to land, that the Sourians had posted guards along the whole coastline. But finally he felt the rush of cool wind through his fur that signalled descent.

They landed in darkness. As Oswald released his tight grip and Alistair rolled onto the earth and sat up, it occurred to him that they didn't know how close they might be to Queen's Guards. Although he was desperate to point this out, he didn't dare make a sound. The others must have had the same thought, for as his eyes adjusted to the dark Alistair saw that Feast Thompson had a finger pressed to his lips and with his other hand he was gesturing to Alistair, Tibby Rose and Slippers to stay down. Feast made a slow, careful inspection of their immediate surroundings, checking behind every rock and tree. At last he whispered, ‘I think we're safe – for the moment.'

‘Where are we, Feast?' Slippers gasped. She had staggered to her feet and was leaning against a tree, a queasy look on her face. ‘Oh, flying just never gets any better.'

Feast replied, ‘I've never been in this part of the Eugenians before. We must be a long way east. Which
means that while we might have succeeded in avoiding the Queen's Guards around Sadiz, we've overshot the shortcut by a long way.'

‘Huh.' Slippers was quiet for a moment, rubbing her stomach thoughtfully. ‘I guess that gives us two options,' she said. ‘Either we backtrack, or we find a new way through.'

‘Which would be the fastest?' asked Alistair as he slipped his rucksack from his back.

Feast crouched in the dirt and sketched out a rough oval with his finger. ‘Theoretically, if we travel due north from here –' he drew a vertical line just to the right of the oval ‘– we'll skirt the eastern shore of Lake Eugenia and continue on to Templeton. But it'll mean a lot of climbing. If we backtrack to the shortcut, it'll mean passing quite close to Grouch; the shortcut takes us to the other side of the lake.' He tapped the left part of the oval. ‘But at least we know there's a path. This route is unknown.'

‘If it's faster, and we're less likely to run into Queen's Guards, I think we should go this way,' said Alistair.

‘Feast, Tibby, what do you think?' said Slippers.

‘I think Alistair's right,' said Feast.

‘Me too,' said Tibby. ‘I'd like to stay as far away from Grouch as possible. You know what Queen Eugenia wants to do to Alistair.' She shuddered.

‘We have to assume that there are Queen's Guards posted all over the Eugenians,' Slippers reminded them. ‘This isn't a risk-free option.'

‘I still think it's the best option,' said Alistair. ‘We only have ten days before Queen Eugenia leaves the palace. Actually, I think it's more like nine now.'

‘All right then,' said Slippers Pink. ‘We're agreed. But there's no sense blundering around in the dark. Let's try to grab a couple of hours' sleep and we'll set off at daybreak.'

Alistair slept poorly on the stony ground. It seemed that whatever position he lay in there was a rock digging into his side, and his rucksack, which he was using as a pillow, might have been filled with hammers for all the comfort it was giving him. He kept opening his eyes and searching the sky for signs of light but the night, which had seemed so close to ending when he had laid down to sleep, was determined to stretch on forever. When at last he did doze off, it was to be woken a few minutes later by Tibby Rose.

‘Alistair, come on,' she urged, shaking his shoulder.

‘Wha–?' Alistair rubbed his eyes and blinked. Dawn hadn't yet broken and there was just a sliver of light separating the silhouette of a jagged mountain range from the black sky.

‘Feast is making breakfast,' said Tibby, who sounded as bright and cheerful as if she'd slept eight hours in a feather bed.

‘Incoming!' called Feast, and a rock dropped into
Alistair's lap. No, not a rock, he realised: a hunk of bread torn from a day-old loaf.

‘Wow, thanks,' said Alistair, not very enthusiastically.

He chewed the bread, washing it down with water from his canteen, then stood up, stretched and slipped his rucksack over his shoulders.

A pale yellow light had crept up the sky now, and Alistair was able to make out distinct shapes in the mountain range, which had previously appeared as one solid dark mass. Not that a better view of the Eugenians made them seem any less impenetrable. Were they really wise to set off into these inhospitable mountains with no map, no path to follow, no clear idea of where they were even?

‘I'll take first shift with our rucksack, Feast,' Slippers offered, holding out her hand for the rucksack the two FIG operatives shared. She studied the terrain for a few minutes, then hoisted the pack onto her back and set off towards a long slope dotted with small clumps of dry grass. Tibby and Alistair fell in behind her, and Feast brought up the rear.

The going was fairly easy, Alistair found. All the walking of the last few weeks had made him fit and, although they were moving straight uphill, he never felt out of breath. As they got higher the earth dropped away on one side while on the other the rocks rose and fell like waves, small at first, then rearing into the sky like massive monuments.

The sun kept pace with them, so by the time they arrived at the top of the long slope it seemed to be right alongside them. Shading his eyes, Alistair scanned the mountain range in front of him. The Eugenians were nothing like the snow-covered peaks of the Cranken Alps, which he and Tibby had trekked through a few weeks before. These mountains were more like a series of irregular rocky outcrops, some with low scrubby vegetation, others bare rock streaked ochre and grey, rising higher and higher in a series of folds and crevices. There was no obvious way through that Alistair could see.

It wasn't just in appearance that the Eugenians differed from the Crankens, Alistair noted as he dropped his rucksack to the ground and rummaged for his water bottle. The Crankens had been freezing, but now his fur was soaked with sweat and his scarf felt hot and heavy around his neck.

‘Everyone ready to move on?' Slippers asked after a few minutes.

They all murmured their assent.

‘What goes up must come down,' she declared. The slope ended abruptly in a vertical drop, but Alistair could see a chain of ledges descending towards a valley floor like giant steps. One by one they stepped off the top of the ridge onto the first ledge. From there they descended cautiously, sometimes jumping, sometimes sliding from ledge to ledge, until they reached the floor of a canyon
with a river running through it. The white pebbles leading down to the water were smooth and worn underfoot.

‘The river's flowing from north-west to south-east,' Tibby Rose observed. ‘If we're going north we'll have to cross it eventually.' She pointed across the torrent of water. ‘But maybe at a narrower point.'

The quaver in Tibby's voice was almost imperceptible, but it reminded Alistair that his friend couldn't swim.

‘We'll cross that bridge when we come to it,' Feast joked as they crouched beside the fast-flowing water to refill their bottles and sluice their faces with the clear cool liquid.

‘Look how far down we've come,' Tibby said, shaking the water from her fur and looking up and over her shoulder. Alistair had just turned his head to follow her gaze when Tibby gave a small cry and hissed, ‘Duck!'

She spoke so urgently that, without thinking, they all flattened themselves to the ground. But it was too late: the Queen's Guards had seen them!

4

Crossing to Gerander

It was still dark when a deep call reverberated through the clearing, waking Alice with a start. Stars speckled the deep indigo sky, which was illuminated by the faintest of glows to the east. Nearly dawn then, she thought with a yawn. Looking around to see what had disturbed her she saw that Oswald was back. It must have been his hoot that she had heard. The owl was sitting on a low branch and murmuring to Zanzibar, who was nodding his head thoughtfully. Ebenezer and Emmeline were packing the remainders of the group's supplies of bread, fruit and cheese into the rucksacks lined up alongside them, while Rebus filled the water bottles from the spring and Beezer buried the ashes of last night's fire.

Alice turned over, wincing as the twigs and pebbles on the hard ground dug into her side. No matter how carefully you chose a patch of earth to sleep on, she had found, twigs and pebbles would find their way to it
during the night. She nudged her brother, who was still snoring beside her. ‘Alex, wake up. I think we're going to leave soon.'

‘Huh? I'm awake.' Alex sat up immediately, blinking.

Alice joined her mother and Ebenezer.

‘Hi, Mum,' she said. ‘Hi, Uncle Ebenezer.'

Emmeline glanced up. ‘Hello, sleepyhead,' she said.

‘Sleepyhead?' Alice protested. ‘The sun's not even up yet!'

Her mother smiled. ‘Just teasing.'

Emmeline, Alice was pleased to see, looked bright-eyed and well rested, despite the early hour. Perhaps having something definite to do had energised her. Alice herself felt a sense of anticipation about the mission ahead. She knew it would be dangerous, and she certainly didn't expect to enjoy it, but it felt good to be doing something at last. And if they succeeded … she brushed some stray pebbles and twigs from her fur. If they succeeded she'd have a long sleep on a soft mattress with clean sheets. She went to wash her face in the cool spring water, squealing when her dad splashed her. A long sleep on a soft mattress with clean sheets after a long, hot shower with plenty of soap, she amended.

She went back to her mother. ‘Can I help?'

Emmeline looked around the clearing. ‘If you can find a branch with some leaves on it, you could use it to sweep away our footsteps. We want to erase all traces of ourselves.'

‘Why?' asked Alice. ‘What does it matter once we're gone?'

‘You never know if we might need to use this spot again,' her mother replied. ‘If our enemies discover we were camped here, they'll keep an eye on the place.'

‘I get it,' Alice said. It still surprised her every time her mother came out with some piece of spycraft like this.

‘Beezer, Ebenezer.' It was Zanzibar. ‘We'd better get going. Oswald wants to get to Shudders before sunrise.'

‘What about us?' said Alex. ‘Will Oswald come back for us?' Alice knew her brother was desperate to fly by owl. He couldn't bear it that Alistair had flown many journeys while he hadn't travelled by owl once.

Rebus put a hand on Alex's shoulder. ‘Sorry, son,' he said. ‘As soon as dawn breaks we'll be hitting the trail.'

‘On foot?' Alex said glumly.

His father nodded. ‘We'll meet Solomon Honker in Sharman and cross the border into Gerander from there – though we'll be going our separate ways, of course.'

‘I'll bet Solomon has thought of a great way to travel,' Alex said, cheering up. ‘He was the one who organised that hot-air balloon.'

‘I'd rather walk,' muttered Alice, who hadn't enjoyed the experience at all.

She watched without envy as her aunt and uncle and Zanzibar – who was also her uncle, she remembered, though he was virtually a stranger – walked into the middle of the clearing. They adjusted their rucksacks
so that they were tight against their backs, then crossed their arms across their bodies so their hands rested on the opposite shoulders.

‘Okay, Os,' said Zanzibar, and the giant owl dropped from the branch to hover above the three waiting mice. Carefully, he closed one talon around Zanzibar and the other around Ebenezer and Beezer. Then he beat his giant wings and rose into the air.

The downdraft ruffled Alice's fur as she waved.

Ebenezer had his eyes open and though he couldn't wave back he was smiling broadly and nodding his head at his family on the ground. Beezer, on the other hand, had her eyes closed tight.

‘See you in Cornoliana,' Zanzibar called.

The group on the ground watched until the owl was just a speck in the distance, then Rebus said, ‘We'll get going ourselves as soon as it's light.' He studied the sky. ‘We've got an hour or more to kill, I'd say.' He walked over to a fallen log at the edge of the clearing and sat down, then patted the log on either side of him. ‘Let's do some catching up,' he suggested. ‘Why don't you two tell me about all the birthdays you had while we were away.'

As they sat beside their father, Alex immediately launched into a detailed description of the different cakes Ebenezer had made them.

Emmeline, sitting on Alice's other side, laughed aloud. The sound startled Alice; when had she last heard her mother laugh like that? She couldn't remember.

‘Oh, Alex,' said Emmeline affectionately, ‘I've missed you.'

Alex looked surprised at the unexpected declaration. ‘Uh, yeah, me too, Mum. Anyway, for our eleventh birthday Uncle Ebenezer made a triple-layer cheesy chocolate cake …'

When the first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon, they shouldered their rucksacks and, after a last look around, left the clearing. Alice brushed away their final footsteps. It was as if they had never been there.

‘I still don't see why Oswald couldn't at least have carried us some of the way,' Alex complained as they picked their way carefully along a narrow path that skirted the gorge.

Alice didn't answer. She was completely focused on the ground ahead, trying not to glance over the edge. She knew that if she saw how far the drop was, she probably wouldn't be able to go on.

‘Really, if Oswald should be giving anyone special treatment it's me,' Alex continued. ‘I'm the one who's going to be king.'

‘Oswald hasn't been choosing to carry Alistair instead of you,' Alice said. ‘It's just worked out that way.'

‘When I'm king I'm going to get my own owl,' Alex went on. ‘For my own exclusive use.'

‘I don't think you can actually own an owl,' said Alice. ‘No one owns Oswald. He's helping FIG because he chooses to.'

After three hours of hiking, they at last left the gorge behind and joined the road heading north to Sharman. It was an easy walk through a valley, with rolling green hills on either side. Striding along with the sun on her shoulders, Alice realised that for the first time in ages she felt almost relaxed. Here in Shetlock, their home, there were no Queen's Guards after them. And they were inconspicuous. She and her mother were both a deep chocolate brown (though Alice had a white patch on her left hip), while Alex and their dad were white (though Alex had a patch of brown on his right shoulder blade). There was no reason for anyone to look at them twice. Of course if Alistair or Tibby Rose had been with them it would have been a different matter: they stood out, being ginger. And Zanzibar, too, though Alice would have described Zanzibar's fur as golden rather than ginger. And he would have stood out if his fur
wasn't
golden. He just had some sort of presence. She couldn't explain it even to herself. She just knew that he didn't look ordinary.

Still, you could never judge a book by its cover, she reminded herself. A beautiful silvery grey mouse with a bell-like voice could be evil. And they were only inconspicuous among those who weren't looking for them. But out there, somewhere, two mice
were
looking for Alice and her brother. She had last seen Sophia, the silvery grey Sourian spy with a sharp knife and a sharper tongue, and her morose coal-black companion, Horace,
in Gerander. The two spies had fallen (helped along by some skilful piloting by Solomon Honker) from a hot-air balloon. They had landed in the Winns, and if Alice knew Sophia – which she did only too well – she would be furious. More than that, she would be out for revenge … The warmth seemed to drain from the sun as Alice considered the prospect of an enraged, vengeful Sophia.

No longer relaxed, she anxiously scrutinised the face of every mouse they saw. That light brown mouse sitting on the porch of the farmhouse … had he been watching them a little too intently? Had that young cream mouse they passed on the road earlier looked at them with more than ordinary interest?

‘Alex?' Alice quickened her pace to catch up with her brother, who was walking a few metres ahead of her.

‘Huh?' Alex started, as if she'd woken him from a doze. ‘Oh, it's you. Hey, sis, do you think when I'm king I could make Uncle Ebenezer my personal chef? Every morning he'd come to see me in the throne room to consult about that day's menu …' He trailed off, and Alice guessed by the look of bliss on his face that he was imagining some of the dishes he might request.

‘I hate to interrupt your menu planning, Your Highness,' she said sharply.

Alex started again. ‘What?'

‘Alex, where do you think Sophia and Horace are now?'

Alex's face clouded over at the mention of the spies. ‘Did you really have to ruin my daydream by mentioning them?' he grumbled.

‘You don't think they'd be looking for us, do you?' Alice asked. ‘You know, to take –' she hesitated before saying the word aloud ‘– revenge?'

‘Does it make any difference? They were already planning to kill us,' Alex pointed out. ‘We're the heirs of Cornolius, and Queen Eugenia wants us dead.'

‘That's true.' Alice didn't find her brother's reasoning all that comforting though.

‘But in answer to your question,' Alex continued, his voice serious, ‘I do think Sophia and Horace will be looking for us. And Sophia will definitely be out for revenge.'

They reached Sharman in time for a late lunch. Climbing the winding road up to the town, Alice saw more towns and villages dotting the hills and valleys. They seemed so peaceful, dozing in the sun. The mice they saw as they entered Sharman seemed peaceful too. For a moment Alice recalled the anxious-looking mice of Cornoliana, scurrying out of the path of the red-coated Queen's Guards. What would life be like for the mice of Sharman if Queen Eugenia succeeded in taking over Shetlock? But it hardly seemed possible that life in this remote hilltop town could ever change. The baker she glimpsed through
a shop window was probably using the same recipe her father had used before her; the family of the candlemaker next door had probably been making the town's candles for generations.

With her parents strolling arm in arm ahead of her, Alice felt as if she'd stepped into a different world. After weeks of running and hiding, here they were, walking across a market square, sitting in a cafe, ordering lunch. Her mother, she noticed, was looking around in wonder. Had she ever imagined, locked in a cell on Atticus Island, that she would one day be sitting down to lunch in the sun-dappled square of a small, peaceful town in Shetlock?

Alice and her mother ordered cheese on toast, while Alex talked their father into trying the local specialty, a goat's cheese and dandelion pie. ‘Uncle Ebenezer always liked to try a region's delicacies,' Alex explained.

‘It seems you and your uncle have a lot in common,' Emmeline observed with a soft smile.

‘I guess,' Alex muttered. As her brother ducked his head and busied himself arranging the serviette in his lap, Alice thought she saw a glimmer of a tear in her brother's eyes. Was that even possible? No, when she looked again it was gone. But it was true, she realised; Alex and Ebenezer had grown very close in the years the triplets had lived with their aunt and uncle. Alice knew that Alex was as happy as she was to have their parents home safe, but was he sad, too, at the thought of saying goodbye to Uncle Ebenezer and Aunt Beezer? Of course they would
see their aunt and uncle regularly, but it wouldn't be the same as living with them. It would never be the same again. Unless King Alex could persuade Uncle Ebenezer to move into the palace as his personal chef.

They had just finished their meals when Alice spotted a tall mouse striding towards them across the square. The white fur on his top half seemed almost luminescent, but it was the ginger fur from his waist down that was drawing curious looks from the mice he passed.

‘Solomon's here,' Alice announced.

He looked pleased to see them, she thought, as their old teacher drew close. Those days in the classroom at FIG headquarters at the school in Stetson seemed so long ago, though it was really only a manner of weeks. Solomon had been a hard teacher, but he'd had to be. He had been preparing Alice and Alex for an undercover mission into the very heart of Sourian headquarters in Gerander. Alice just hoped the skills he had taught them would come back to her if she needed them on their next mission, when they would again be travelling to Cornoliana, though this time they'd be going as themselves, in hiding, rather than assuming other identities.

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