CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

That night, several of the Abbey leaders remained gathered in the Infirmary around Vanessa's bedside. In a worrisome departure from her previous swoons, the stricken Abbess had not immediately recovered from the latest episode, and was promptly borne up to the sick bay by Maura as soon as Cyril had alerted everybeast.

There she lay, even unto this late hour, resting comfortably and seemingly out of danger, but dead to the world and unresponsive to any ministrations or spoken words.

"Her breathing and her heartbeat are as they should be," Arlyn solemnly pronounced to the others, "but there's no getting around the fact that she's getting worse. After the other incidents, she was back up on her footpaws and racing around almost immediately, but now I cannot say whether she is likely to recover at all. It could be that her condition has deteriorated, and taken the kind of sudden turn for the worse that Mona always warned us might lie in store for her. It's possible she will never wake up from this."

"But she was fine this afternoon!" Cyril protested, as if arguing against the forces of nature and fate would carry any weight. "She was talking and moving around and acting just like normal - well, normal for her, I mean - and then she just keeled right over!"

Arlyn laid a gentle paw on the younger mouse's shoulder. "Now, Cyril, you know how it's been with her, ever since the winter. She'll seem so full of life one moment, and then succumb to her fainting spells in the blink of an eye, with no warning whatsoever. There's nothing you or anybeast else could have done to prevent it." He heaved a deep, mournful sigh. "It could simply be that this past winter, while hardly the worst Redwall has known, took too much out of her. I certainly felt that way at times myself, but while the coming of spring has proven a balm to my aching joints and the assorted infirmities of age, perhaps for her they provided no relief, either to her troubled spirit or her overstrained body."

"And Winokur was so sure Vanessa might be showing signs of recovery," Geoff lamented. "In a way it's good he's not here to see this. It would be sad for him to return home later this season to learn Vanessa has passed on, but at least he will have some time at the quarry to witness the excitement of its reopening and fully immerse himself in his Recorder's duties, just as he wanted."

"So you don't want to send a sparrow out to the quarry to inform them of this development?" Arlyn asked the younger Abbot. "Winokur and Monty in particular might not be pleased if they found out we kept this from them until their return, especially if the worst does come to pass."

"I know I wouldn't be," Alexander offered from the foot of the patient's bed. "Monty, Nessa and I were the closest of friends growing up, and I would not want to be kept in the dark about anything like this, were I in their place."

Geoff nodded. "Yes, I can see your point. But the simple truth is that, even if we were to send out a Sparra messenger at first light, our party might not be able to make it back to the Abbey in time. Let us wait to see what this night brings, and where things stand come morning. Vanessa has been full of surprises these past three seasons; perhaps she will surprise us all again, and defy the dire prognosis that has been given her here."

Cyril picked up on this hopeful note. "Maybe Winokur is still right. Maybe she's not coming around again right away this time because she really is getting better. We don't know for sure that she won't wake up being more like her old self, do we? Maybe this long sleep is what she needs to come back to herself - at least partway."

Arlyn favored Cyril with a benevolent, if not entirely convinced, smile. "We cannot rule that out, of course. The frustrating thing about her condition is that none of us really knows what it is, how to cure it, or what course it might take. As has often been said, and by wiser mice than I, where there's life there's hope. Let us see how she fares through this night, and cope with what the morning presents us when it arrives."

Cyril seemed less than buoyed by the elder Abbot's lukewarm optimism. "I just can't believe she could go from carrying on so, to dropping like a stone, so quickly. I mean, you and Winokur assigned me to watch over her because we were all worried about her as much as we were hoping for a positive change, and there wasn't a thing I could do to help. I feel like I failed."

Now it was Smallert's turn to pat Cyril. "There now, Cyr, you ran 'n' fetched help th' moment it happened. T'weren't naught else y' coulda done, inside the Abbey or out, with others at yer side or alone. You did all that anybeast could've expected of you."

Cyril bowed his head, uncheered. "Still, I wish I hadn't been outside with her alone. Why couldn't she've done this any of the times she was with me inside Redwall, with everybeast else around? It was stupid of me to go out for archery practice, when I knew there was a chance of something like this happening ... "

"But at least you did observe her as we asked, right up until her last waking moments, and in that sense you most certainly did discharge your responsibilities in this matter," Geoff commended Cyril. "What did you say her last words were before she lost consciousness?"

"Well, first she yelled for me to duck, so I did, not knowing whether it was because of something she was about to do, or something else she was warning me about. Then she said something about rats, and I thought we might be under attack, but there were no rats anywhere. And then she just passed out and hit the ground, like she has before during these spells. But it was scary to see it up close, with nobeast else at paw. It really was like all the life left her, went right out of her, and she was just ... gone."

Arlyn pursed his lips. "You know, Winokur mentioned that she'd also said something about rats the other day, up on the walltop. Wink gave me the impression that some of the recently-arrived former slaves were rather unsettled by the suggestion of rats at Redwall."

"That seems to be the way of things lately with Vanessa," Geoff conceded with a sigh. "She'll go out of her way to say or do upsetting things."

"Well, yes, that might be true in the case of our latest arrivals, who would understandably take a dim view of any jokes or pranks about rats," Arlyn pointed out. "But this afternoon, Cyril was outside by himself, and he harbors no undue fear of hatred of rats."

Geoff shrugged. "She still made him duck, didn't she? Nessa succeeded in provoking a response, and I deem that's all she's really interested in these days: raising a fuss, and making sure she's at the center of it."

A rare visitor to such bedside gatherings, Highwing had flown down from Warbeak Loft upon word of this latest dire episode involving his old and dear mouse friend, and now sat settled on the deep windowsill above Vanessa's pillow-propped head. "Who could have imagined such a sad state of affairs could ever come to pass. Nessa was the kindest, wisest mouse I've ever known, and her descent into childlike madness has made my heart heavy, no less so than any other creature at Redwall. And while I might wish beyond wishing that she would miraculously return to being the Vanessa of old, if this is to be nature's way of delivering her from her tragic seasons-long plight, I will not question or rail against fate's choice, as aggrieved as her absence would render me. I might even welcome such a turn of events, if it finally grants her troubled soul peace."

"Well said, old friend, and a sentiment I'm sure most of us here share, in part if not in whole. But for now, I think she should be left alone to rest, in whatever fashion and for whatever good it will do her." Arlyn motioned toward the Infirmary doorway. "Return to your own beds, to catch whatever sleep you can. Metellus and I will watch over Vanessa, and we'll be sure to alert you to any drastic turn she might take, for good or for ill."

As most of the worried Abbeybeasts reluctantly shuffled out of the chamber, Highwing held his spot on the windowsill. "If I may beg your indulgence, Abbot Arlyn, I would very much like to remain here this night. I would not normally ask such preferential treatment, but ... well, this is Vanessa we're talking about here."

"Yes, of course. I understand the special bond you share with her, having benefited from her protection and upbringing while you were but a chick. I deem an exception can be made in your case. Besides, it's dark now, and you could hardly be expected to fly back up to the roofspaces. But you don't need to stay up there on that hard sill." Arlyn patted the tight-blanketed mattress of the bed alongside Vanessa's. "Come, make yourself comfortable here, so you can be near her. Who knows? Maybe having you close to paw will provide her some solace or support, in spite of her current state."

Glady accepting the venerable mouse's invitation, Highwing hopped down from the sill and nestled onto the adjacent bed, fluffing his plumage and fidgeting his way into a cozy resting posture whilst Arlyn and Metellus dimmed the lanterns and otherwise made the Infirmary ready for the night. None of them would even think of leaving this sick bay, or their beloved former Abbess, before sunrise.

All three had drifted off to a light sleep when Vanessa stirred, murmuring with her eyes closed as if in the grip of a delirious fever dream. Arlyn, a light sleeper by both seasons and habit, promptly rose and went to her side, but a quick examination revealed no substantial change in their patient's condition, and no sign that she was likely to full awaken anytime soon.

"Well, I suppose that might be an encouraging sign," he muttered to himself between stifling yawns, "or it might not. We'll see what the rest of the night brings."

As Arlyn lay back down on his own borrowed Infirmary bed across from hers, Highwing lifted his head to regard Vanessa. The Sparra chief, roused by the murmuring and Arlyn's movements, remained awake after mouse and badger had both drifted off again, his bead-black avian eyes glinting in the scant lamplight. Vanessa began moaning again, more softly than before, and something in her tone and manner coaxed the bird from his own improvised bednest and to her side.

No sooner had he reached her than Vanessa's eyes shot open, her own glistening orbs locked on his. For the briefest moment it looked as if she might be about to engage in another of her turn-on-an-acorn reversals and spring up from between her sheets to resume her recent manic existence. But instead she lay quite still, her breathing soft and shallow, and recited a verse in a singsong whisper.

"The Seer hides the Seer

From seers gone before

But when another Seer comes

It opens wide the door ... "

And then, saying no more, she closed her eyes again and sank back into her comatose state, chest sedately rising and falling with the rhythm of life.

Highwing silently repeated her odd rhyme to himself several times in his head, imprinting the exact words upon his linguistic memory so that he would not forget them come morning. Then he clambered back up onto his own bed and stuck his head under his wing to dream the boundless dreams of flying creatures.

00000000000

It was common for the foxes and weasels who stood lookout duty atop Foxguard's tower to remain up on the observation deck for a day or two at a time, owing to the labor and inconvenience involved in getting the change of shifts from the ground to the summit and back again. Thus it was that Monda and Weel still stood watch the morning after the Gawtrybe's arrival, greeting the morning and the risen sun with the first full survey of the lands spread out below them.

"Quite a change from yisterday, ain't it, mate?" Weel remarked, taking in the green tableau of springtime Mossflower rolling away in all directions. "Just a few foggy wisps here'n' there, not that unnatural stuff hidin' ev'rything like a white blanket."

"You said it, Weel," Monda readily agreed. "This's mornin' th' way it's s'posed t' be, an' no mistake!"

"Yeah, sure is easier seein' things when ye're able t' see 'em."

"Uh, yeah. 'Cept now that all them squirrels we was expectin' 're here, there ain't much we gotta look out fer. Rest o' this shift's like t' be a snoozer."

"Ha! Better not let any of our brushtailed masters catch you snoozin' on duty, or it'll be all fer you! Wouldn't wanna be Guth or Jagro, with Tolar comin' down on 'em over not keepin' proper watch before us, lettin' that whole crew get to the quarry unseen! 'Sides, we're s'posed to be keepin' an eye out fer that bunny Mona sent out yesterday - he could be comin' back any time."

"That's what I don't unnerstand. Weren't 'ee sent out to meet up with those squirrels, an' find out what's happenin' at th' quarry? They're all here now, an' we know they came from th' quarry so there's naught amiss there either, but that bunny's nowhere in sight. Kinda defeats th' whole point o' sendin' 'im out at all, wouldn'tja say?"

"I say nuthin' - I just do what I'm told. Fer all we know, that rabbert coulda come back in under cover o' night, an' nobeast told us about it. Them brushtails never tell us anything."

"Well, t' be fair, it is kinda hard sendin' word up here 'bout anything routine. Makes sense that they'd only alert us about sumpthin' important ... an' a bunny comin' back who was expected back anyways is hardly worth the effort, eh?"

"Well, when y' put it that way ... Still, t'would be nice t' know such things. Too bad none o' Lord Urthblood's birds're here with us now. They c'n fly up 'n' down 'tween here 'n' there in a blink. We really oughta have some stationed here permanent like, just like those birds Redwall's got."

"Yeah, I know. When I was stationed at Salamandastron, Lord Urthblood used Cap'n Klystra an' Commodore Altidor an' his gulls to run messages from top to bottom of that mountain, an' that place was nowhere near as tall as this tower. Kinda ironic, me gettin' my footpaw all smashed up durin' th' war with th' searats, so's that I'd never be able t' climb stairs pain-free agin, an' then gettin' transferred to th' one place in all th' lands that's got more steps than anyplace has ever had!"

"Ayup, that's, uh, sumpthin', it is. Hey, if that bunny never did come back, y' reckon he met with some misfortune?"

Monda gazed out at the obscuring forest canopy. "If 'ee did, we'll never know it from 'ere. An' we'll not see 'im comin' back any sooner'n th' walltop sentries down below, so let's leave it to 'em. If Sword Tolar decides t' send out a search party, he'll not ask fer our counsel first, an' we'd have none t' give anyway. But if'n ye asks me, that lopears never had any intention of comin' back here ta'll. I mean, a rabbit at Foxguard? Makes about as much sense as a fish in th' desert, or moles up in a tree!"

"Aye, you could be right, mate. So, I guess fer now it's back t' what we usually do when we're up 'ere." Weel produced the long glass and began scanning Mossflower to the north. "Well, at least now that we know it was really just th' Gawtrybe an' their allies at th' quarry yissterday, an' our rabbet's either gonna come back or not as it suits 'im, looks like it's back t' normal fer us lowly ... aw, I don't berlieve it!"

"What? What is it?"

"See fer yerself." Weel passed the telescope to the other weasel. "Down at th' forest's edge nearest th' quarry."

Monda peered through the instrument in the indicated direction. "Fang, where'd they all come from?!"

"Yah - an' who are they? They're headed north an' outta th' woods, away from us, an' toward th' quarry. Just opposite from what th' Gawtrybe did yestidday t' get 'ere."

"Well, that means those squirrels must know they're there, an' be okay with it. I mean, ain't no way they coulda missed each other, not two groups that big. We know th' Gawtrybe left lotsa beasts behind in th' quarry. These must be more they've been travellin' with, or know."

"Hmm. Could be, mate. Sure are a lot of 'em, tho'. Well over a hunnerd, by my mark. Can't tell if they're mice or rats or shrews ... "

"I'd guess shrews, since Lord Urthblood was s'posed t' be reassignin' all of 'em to Mossflower from what I heard tell. T'was under the impression they'd be posted on the other side o' th' river, but I may've gotten that wrong. An' those squirrels came by an unexpected route too, so may'aps things've changed. Be nice of 'em t' let us know up 'ere, but us grunts're allers th' last t' know."

"Aye, an' we sure ain't consultered with ahead o' time neither, that's fer sure." Weel took the long glass back from Monda and studied the distant scene anew. "I dunno, tho' - they look too big to be shrews t' me ... an' almost too big t' be mice ... "

"Sizes're hard t' tell from all th' way up 'ere, an' so far away," Monda observed. "Looked like they had family beasts with 'em too, so can't be a horde or nuthin' like that."

"Yah, but ... what if they are rats? Shouldn't we oughta tell somebeast? Tolar, or th' Gawtrybe?"

Monda thought about how far removed from the rest of the fortress beasts they were, and what would be involved in following Weel's suggestion. "What, you wanna raise the alarm?"

"Do you?"

Monda chewed at his lip for a few moments. "Don't really see what good it'd do. I mean, they're movin' away from us, not toward us, so it ain't like they're an approachin' threat or anything like that. An' by th' time we could alert ev'rybeast, an' a party could be raised an' sent out, they'd like as not be too far away t' be worth botherin' about anyway."

"Those squirrels can cover a lotta ground purty fast when they wanna. They got from th' quarry t' here in half a day, an' that was with their loaded carts too."

"Well, do you wanna sound the alarm?"

Weel scratched at his ear in thought. "T'would be kinda awkward raisin' such a fuss an' havin' it turn out t' be nuthin' ... 'specially after callin' Tolar up 'ere yesterday over what turned out t' be our Gawtrybe allies."

"That's what I was thinkin' too. Tell ya what: Let's wait 'til our shift's over at midday, an' report it then. Leave it to th' higher-ups t' sort it all out."

Weel nodded. "Right. An' in th' meantime, we'll just keep our eyes on that lot, whoever they are, an' if they start doublin' back or look like they mean t' cause any trouble, we c'n allers raise the alarm then."

"Exactly, Weel mate. They put us up here t' watch so that's what we'll do. An' if by chance they do turn out t' be rats, well, I'd not wanna be them - not with th' Gawtrybe in Mossflower now!"

00000000000

Vanessa was found that morning in the orchard, lounging against the trunk of a budding pear tree whilst munching on some acorn crunch pilfered from the kitchens in a daring pre-dawn raid.

She'd somehow managed to slip out from beneath her bedcovers and flee the Infirmary without rousing any of her lightly-slumbering caregivers, having fully recovered her mobility if not her wits during the night. Highwing, waking as sparrows tend to at the first pale blush of dawn, was the first to notice her absence, and quickly alerted Arlyn and Metellus, who were soon thereafter rushing forth from the sick bay to commence the search for their wayward patient.

They scoured the indoor sections of the Abbey first, from the dormitory levels down to Cavern Hole and everywhere in between, including Great Hall and the kitchens (but Vanessa had already absconded from there with her munchable prize, hitting the defenseless larders while none of Friar Hugh's staff were about to dissuade her). Certain areas could be safely passed over, such as the Long Patrol tunnels, where the ever-vigilant hares could be relied upon to ensnare any runaway Abbess who ventured into their midst, but Cavern Hole presented more of a challenge, still packed as it was with the myriad of as-yet-unassigned former slaves. And while it seemed unlikely that the irritating mouse would find welcome sanctuary amongst the beasts she'd so provoked and annoyed upon prior occasions, nothing could be ruled out where Vanessa was concerned. But nobeast in the large meeting-hall-turned-open-dormitory had seen her, and so the searchers turned their attention to the grounds, first checking with the walltop sentries to see if she was up there with them.

But Vanessa had sneaked out into the orchard without attracting anybeast's notice, climbing through a storeroom window not easily seen from the battlements or the gates, and thus remained undiscovered until after the sun had risen well above the treetops, even though she'd made no undue effort to hide herself as she reclined and chomped away. Now that both the Gawtrybe and the shrews had vacated the Abbey, the orchards lay largely deserted most of the time, and Vanessa could not have chosen a better spot to hide in plain sight.

To perhaps nobeast's amazement, the stricken Abbess seemed back to her usual pre-swoon self, frivolously laughing off the concern focused upon her and chafing under Arlyn's attempts to examine her. As always, she professed no memory whatsoever of her latest fainting episode, and found the entire notion quite funny. And when the elder Abbot insisted she accompany him and Metellus back up to the Infirmary just to be on the safe side, Vanessa adroitly evaded them and Maura and several of the other Redwallers, racing across the lawns and pounding up the wallstairs to take up a position on the east ramparts, gazing off into the gloom of the morning forest.

There she stayed, stubbornly refusing to be dislodged from where she'd planted herself, even after most of the Abbey leaders and many of the squirrels on lookout duty descended upon her and surrounded her, leaving Vanessa no avenue of escape, unless she pitched herself headlong over the battlements - a possibility, given her current temperament and unpredictability, that several of Alexander's squirrels stood tensed to prevent, if she should attempt such a manic feat.

But Vanessa seemed perfectly content to hold to her spot, as long as nobeast sought to budge her from it. "Gotta stay out here today," she firmly maintained. "Greenpup's gonna have his flippers full!"

"You mean Winokur?" Arlyn asked, taking a few moments to mentally connect this new pet name of hers to the absent otter Recorder. "Why do you say that?"

"Lotsa rats!" she beamed, as if the very idea of a plethora of those unsavory rodents filled her with glee. "Lots 'n' lotsa rats!"

Geoff, who'd joined the search for the escaped Abbess early on and now stood with the others hemming her in, rolled his eyes at this. "There she goes again, with her talk of rats. It's a good thing none of the former slaves are near at paw to hear her - she's distressed them quite enough already with such nonsense."

"Ain't nonsense!" Vanessa protested. "She's comin', you'll see!"

"Oh? And just who would that be?"

Vanessa clammed up then. "Can't tell. It'sa secret."

"Yes, of course it is," Geoff ridiculed testily. "And 'ain't' is not proper language. If you're going to insist upon spouting such fibs and tall tales, you can at least use correct grammar."

Vanessa pulled a face and stuck her tongue out at Geoff to let him know what she thought of his rather sanctimonious lesson.

Maura took Arlyn aside. "Do you suppose she's in any further danger? Will it be safe to let her remain up here, or should she be carried back up to the Infirmary?"

"I honestly don't know what to say. I'm as much at a loss now as I ever was. Once again, she seems to have recovered completely, as suddenly and unexpectedly as she took ill in the first place. She's certainly recovered her appetite, to judge by the amount of acorn crunch she seems to have put away! I'd say she's more in danger of a stomach ache than anything at this point. I really thought her spell yesterday might augur something different - a definite turn for the better, or for the worse, especially when she went through most of the night without awakening. But, as you can see, she's back to her usual self, neither for better or worse - just the same, unchanged. I cannot fathom her condition at all. But for now, I see no harm in allowing her to remain here. Indeed, she seems quite adamant about doing so, and I suspect we'd cause her greater upset if we tried to remove her - and, if she's got her mind set on being up here, she'd like as not escape from our custody and head back up here anyway. As long as she doesn't strain herself or become overly excited, I suppose she'll be no worse here than anywhere else."

"I'm certainly no more qualified to second-guess you on this than anybeast else at Redwall, so I'll go by what you say. But I'll keep the children away from her, as I have been. I'll not have them subjected to her cruel whims if she turns violent and mean again."

"Yes, of course. And I'm sure Geoff will keep the newest members of our community away from her as well, what with her nattering on about rats like she is; that's the last thing any of them needs to hear. While I'm sure he'll hardly be thrilled about it, we'll have Cyril come up to continue keeping an eye on her - and this time, unlike outside the wall, he'll have Smallert to help lend a paw. In fact, I'll tell Alexander and Colonel Clewiston to make sure there are always a few extra squirrels and hares on paw in case she should become particularly unruly."

"A fine idea. If you'll excuse me, Arlyn, I have the young ones to look after." Maura turned and trundled down the wallsteps to the lawns below.

Geoff moved to follow after the Badgermum. "Hold on, Maura, I'll come with you. All this silliness has made me late for breakfast, but hopefully I can still officiate over the morning meal in Great Hall for a few of the later risers!"

As Geoff clopped along the stone steps in Maura's wake, Highwing pushed off from the crenelated battlements above, fluttering to his typical lopsided landing on the grass before the two descending creatures. "Abbot, a moment, if I may."

Geoff heaved a sigh as he dismounted from the staircase and motioned for Maura to proceed ahead of him. "This whole affair has me running behind as it is; what's a few more moments?"

"Thank you. I felt you should be aware of something Vanessa said in her sleep last night. It was right after Abbot Arlyn had checked on her, once he'd returned to his bed, so I may be the only one who heard it. As the mouse who first discovered the relationship between the old 'Sea Song' and Lord Urthblood, you should find it of particular interest."

This definitely piqued Geoff's curiosity. "Yes? Do go on."

"I was a bit of verse she recited, but some of the words were new. It went, 'The Seer hides the Seer from seers gone before - '"

"Yes, yes," Geoff impatiently cut the sparrow off, finishing the verse himself. "'Prophecy blinds prophecy, veils future evermore.' I know very well how it goes. It's not the 'Sea Song' at all, but some old verse put down at the dawn of Redwall's history, perhaps by Abbess Germaine herself. This is nothing new to me."

Highwing ruffled his feathers in mild indignation. "I think you'll find that it is new, if you'd be so kind as to allow me to finish. Vanessa murmured a single verse of four lines last night, and that verse went as follows: 'The Seer hides the Seer / From seers gone before / But when another Seer comes / It opens wide the door.'"

Geoff's mouth twisted in disapproval. "Well, that's not right. You must have misheard her."

The Sparra's plumage bristled a second time. "You seem to forget my species, Father Abbot. We Sparra possess ears attuned to the finest nuances of birdsong, even if they don't stick out from our heads the way yours do. And did you also forget my lifelong affinity for wordplay and language, much of it learned from Vanessa herself? My recall of both sounds and words is perfect. That is precisely what she said, and I did not mishear her."

Geoff seemed split between taking umbrage at Highwing's admonishing tone and standing put in his place by the bird's assertive confidence. "Yes, well, even if your hearing and recollect is unimpeachable, the verse is still incorrect. One of you got it wrong, and if it wasn't you, then it must have been Vanessa. She must have been delirious, and didn't know what she was saying."

"I beg to differ, Abbot. I was there, and I believe she was in complete control of her words. She said exactly what she meant to say. Her eyes were even open when she spoke the verse."

"Her eyes were open? I thought you said she uttered these words in her sleep. Which is it?"

"Well, she was murmuring in her sleep, which brought me to her bedside. Once I was there, her eyes opened, and her gaze met mine, with definite intent. Call it a trance, if you wish. Either way, the fact remains that there is a new verse to the riddle, one that wasn't there before."

"Oh, now you're just reaching." Geoff stared down at Highwing over the tops of his spectacles - no easy feat, since the sparrow poised on talontips stood nearly as tall as he did. "You seem to be overlooking the fact that this 'new verse' of yours came not from one of our venerable and far-seeing founders but from Vanessa, whose mind has been so addled these past seasons that she literally doesn't know who she is. Even if she was sure in what she meant to say, consider the brain from which those words sprang, and you must agree that they surely carry as much meaning as all of her prattle about rats."

"But what if it's not just prattle?" Highwing pressed. "What if deeper meaning lies within them?"

Geoff shook his head. "Tell me again how the new lines go ... "

"'But when another Seer comes / It opens wide the door.'"

"Hmm. Yes, but you see the problem with this, don't you? Unless Vanessa herself is meant to be the second seer in question, then how could she be warning us of something that's to come? It's a classic paradox, really: This cryptic verse tells of prophetic things, but it didn't come from a prophetic beast. Indeed, it was spouted by about the farthest thing from a prophetic beast that I can possibly imagine. And thus, it amounts to nothing."

Highwing refused to concede the point. "What if Martin was trying to speak through her?"

Geoff drew back, disarmed. "Did it sound like the Spirit of Martin was trying to speak through her?"

"I ... don't know. I have never heard the Spirit of Martin speak through anybeast."

"Nor have I. Nobeast alive has, and the coming of Urthblood to Redwall might well prevent that from ever happening in our lifetimes. So you see how silly that sounds? The Spirit of Martin, speaking through Vanessa of all creatures, and in the dead of night when there well might not have been anybeast to hear her."

"I heard her."

"Then let this be between you and her. I see nothing to be gained by engaging in such wild speculation, or sharing it with others. And even if by some mad chance your conclusions are correct, I do not see how it will profit us, or what we could do about it. Vanessa is not even to be trusted around our young ones these days; I hardly think Martin would trust her to deliver some new prophecy to us - even if he could penetrate the otherworldly pall Urthblood has cast over this Abbey."

"Nonetheless, I would like to pursue this, Abbot."

"Then by all means pursue it, in whatever manner you see fit." Geoff turned and resumed his trek toward Great Hall. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must see to breakfast."

Watching the retreating back of the dismissive mouse, Highwing gathered himself and launched into the air in a wobbly flight back up to the walltop. If Geoff didn't care to hear this, then he'd take it upon himself to join Cyril and Smallert in keeping a close eye on Vanessa.