The motorboat carrying Josie, Campion and Blackavar had finally reached Efrafa. The infamous island was a sight of total destruction: the northern side, where the warren had existed only hours ago, had been annihilated completely, the sunken debris forming a sandbank at the foot of the cliffs of the remaining one-third of the island. Washed up there were fallen trees and other vegetation that had once stood around the warren, as well as numerous bloodied, burned and dismembered corpses of rabbits that had been killed in the explosion. There was no sign of the plane, or their friends.
Struggling to get a grip on themselves at the sight of all those dead rabbits in the water, Josie carefully manoeuvred the boat through the sea of bodies, as they searched for survivors. Campion inhaled sharply as he recognised the familiar faces of many of his former comrades, their bodies bobbing up lifeless in the water. How he wished they hadn't chosen to continue fighting alongside Woundwort, they might still be alive now... But the greatest shock came when Josie's flashlight spotted a human arm clinging to a floating tree trunk.
Pulling the boat alongside, she reached out and grabbed hold, thinking it could be Alan or Hotdog, unconscious. However, as she grabbed it by the wrist, it felt cold, stiff and strangely light for a human body; it was only a severed human arm with the rest of the body missing from the shoulder. Her shock turned to deep sorrow as she recognised the familiar Royal Air Corps crest on the scorched jacket sleeve. She had found all that was left of her husband's bomb-vaporized body.
Unable to hold back her tears of sorrow, feeling as if she was being stabbed through the heart with a red-hot knife, she sank to the floor of the boat, still clutching what little remained of her husband to bury. Now, she knew, once and for all, she was truly a widow. The thought of James blowing himself to smithereens made her nauseas, but it was of some consolation to know that at least he hadn't suffered. Reminding herself that she still had to find her son, she forcibly pulled herself together. Reaching down, she removed the wedding ring from her husband's rigid finger. It was time for her to move on. Covering her husband's remains with a tarp, they resumed their search.
Carefully paddling the boat out of the sea of bodies, Campion directed them towards the cove. As they neared shore, Josie noticed the cavern entrance Campion had mentioned was completely caved in, by what seemed to have been a large explosion deep in the cave. The entire cove was scorched and blackened by what smelled horribly like a large kerosene spill set ablaze, with small fires still burning from mosses and shrubs growing on the rocks. Lying on the shore was the charred body of Max Pete, burned charcoal black from the inferno.
"Alan…" she whispered, thinking for a split-second that they had found Alan's remains. But Campion reassured her, "It's all right; this one was killed by Robbins...for having a change of heart." Josie felt a twinge of sympathy for Max Pete, despite his having liberated a vicious murderer out to kill them all. But, unfortunately, like so many others before him, he had realised his mistake too late to ask them for forgiveness.
"A hey seth eth!"
Looking up to where Blackavar was pointing, they finally spotted a survivor: a familiar silvery-furred rabbit up on the same ledge where Woundwort had been watching earlier. It seemed, with nowhere else to run, instead he'd found refuge up on that ledge, escaping the inferno that had come rolling out of the cave. Scampering up a narrow path on the rocks, they made their way to him.
"Silver!"
The Threarah's nephew looked battered and bruised, yet still alive, his bloodstained face smiling back at them. Opening her bag, Josie got to work tending to his wounds. Several deep cuts, some ugly bruising to the head where Woundwort had struck him and probably a mild concussion, but otherwise nothing life-threatening.
"What happened here, Silver?"
After Josie had cleaned up his wounds and helped him gulp down some water from her canteen, Silver felt enough strength return to explain what had happened to them; Hotdog being drowned, them being ambushed by Woundwort, and he and Bigwig making a last stand against the enemy, so the others could escape.
"I was knocked out," Silver explained, "Woundwort must have left me for dead and followed the others up the tunnel. When I came to, Woundwort was gone. Then, I suddenly saw this terrible ball of fire coming from the caverns; I barely managed to escape by climbing up onto this ledge with Bigwig..." It was then that they noticed the second rabbit lying beside Silver.
"Bigwig!"
Although still alive, Bigwig looked terribly exhausted, indicating he had had a difficult ordeal. A nasty cut, which had turned a shade of blue from swelling, was visible across his temple, where he'd been struck. If he didn't have that thick tuft of hair between his ears, the blow would have probably caused him a skull fracture, thought Josie. She also noticed a second wound on his shoulder, which she soon realised was a bullet wound. Helping him to his feet, she asked him, "What happened, Bigwig? Where are the others?"
"That bloody Woundwort had survived the destruction. He killed Hotdog as he came back and then came after us. Frith of Inle, I could swear that rabbit's cursed by the Black Rabbit Himself! I tried to hold him off and Alan got that stupid idea to pitch in, and shot me…!" The others gasped in shock at this but Bigwig shook his head indignantly, "…by accident, the clumsy idiot. The last thing I remember is being struck down. Silver managed to drag me up here before the fire hit…"
"What happened to the others?" Both rabbits shook their heads, completely oblivious to their friends' fate. Had Woundwort caught up with them and killed them all? They had to find them and fast. Helping the two rabbits along, they returned to the cove. They were just about to push off, to circle the island for another way up, when Blackavar, with his leading tracker skills that had been wasted in Efrafa, suddenly called out.
"Stirath laynt zayn hlaf thli!"
Looking down, they saw he had found a pair of large rabbit pawprints in the mud, which the fire could not wipe out. The trail led up a narrow footpath on the side of the cliff, probably all the way up to the top. In an instant Josie understood what had happened, "They must have sealed off the tunnel with fire, forcing him to retreat back here to escape the flames; then he made his way up from that ledge. So there must be another route up. Let's go!"
They followed the footpath up the cliff; it was dangerously narrow, with only about thirty inches of space between the wall and the edge to walk on. It didn't look too promising to Josie and it soon came to a dead end. Disappointed, she was about to signal to her companions to turn back, when Blackavar, the rabbit of the hour, sniffed out something obscured behind some foliage growing on the cliff beside them. Bending over for a closer look, she saw a narrow tunnel in the cliff wall. But it wasn't made by nature; it was smooth and circular, made of concrete. Woundwort's trail led right into it.
"An old sewer tunnel from our time," she told the rabbits, "It probably used to run through this area long ago. Perhaps this tunnel…"
"…might be another way up," Campion finished for her, "Let's go!" On their knees, they crawled into the tunnel in complete darkness.
Being rather claustrophobic, Josie felt very uneasy as she led the way forward, carrying her flashlight in her mouth to light her way. Struggling not to panic, worrying that they'd hit another dead end in here, she kept on moving. Her painful thoughts were soon banished from her mind however when she suddenly spotted a patch of moonlight in the tunnel up ahead. It led them outside into a ditch, not too far away from Buxton Hall. They crawled out through the hole, taking in the scene of total devastation.
The island looked ravaged and devastated, with signs of destruction everywhere. In the distance was a massive pile of dusty rubble, which were the remains of the now-collapsed Buxton Hall. Debris from the walls and upper floors were scattered everywhere, with only the porch and some portions of the down floor still standing. Red Hand's old headquarters, having lasted so far into the future, had suffered the same fate as Efrafa. But there was no sign of their friends anywhere, dead or alive.
Nearby, they found the parachute and lifejackets Alan's group had been preparing, alongside Alan's discarded backpack. Apparently, after Woundwort had left them stranded, they'd been attempting an escape but never went ahead with it. Campion and Blackavar sniffed around for their tracks and they soon realised, with horror, they led straight towards the ruins. My God, Josie thought in a panic, Were they caught in that explosion and are now buried underneath all that rubble? If that was the case, they'd never be able to dig them up. Aside from Silver and Bigwig, there were no other survivors to be found anywhere.
"I guess we're finished here," Campion finally concluded, "Let's not hang about."
They were just about to move out, when suddenly, Josie, who had unpacked Alan's night-vision binoculars and was surveying the canyon for any signs of life, gave a shout, "There's someone moving down there!" Sure enough, as she zoomed in, she saw the outline of a man standing upright in the middle of the river, waving up at them, apparently trying to attract attention. But they were too far away to make out who it was. There was another survivor!
"Let's go!"
They hurryingly made their way back down to the boat and paddled further downstream, towards that other survivor. It was very risky; with the weir just up ahead, they had to make sure they didn't get too close or else their boat would caught in the current and they'd all be drowned. Suddenly, they saw him up ahead through the spotlight: it was Hotdog, standing on the pontoons of his overturned plane. It seemed the capsized aircraft had run aground on a sandbar in the middle of the river, preventing him from being swallowed up by the weir, but stranding him in the process. Josie tossed him a line and they were able to pull him to safety.
"About time! I thought I'd be stuck forever on that floating banana!" Although luckily uninjured, Hotdog looked a right mess, with his long greasy hair all over the place and his clothes inside out. But otherwise he looked unharmed, if not pissed off from the loss of his plane.
"...As I approached the island, I saw that deranged rabbit – General...whatever you guys call that bloody oaf - standing on a ledge. Suddenly, as I pulled alongside, the crazy bastard jumped on me and capsized my bloody plane! Then the lights shorted out, so I couldn't find my way out. Luckily, there an air pocket trapped on the floor of the cabin, which had become the roof, which kept me from drowning. I finally managed to force the emergency escape hatch open, swam out, and climbed onto the pontoons. Jolly good thing you chaps came along when you did."
"Do you know what happened to Alan and the others?" Josie asked, quickly losing hope of finding their missing friends alive. Hotdog shook his head, "There was an explosion; I think it must have the nitroglycerine going off in the fire... But the smoke was too thick to let me see anything clearly from down here. I thought I heard someone scream though…" At that moment, they were all caught by surprise when they heard voices calling to them from the cliffs above.
"Ahoy down there!"
Looking up, Josie saw Derek Shaw and six of the rabbits from Alan's group, who had landed their balloon and doubled back, in search of Alan. There was no shore to beach the boat, so instead Josie made for the foot of the cliffs, where Hotdog secured it with a line around a jagged rock. Looking up, they saw Derek lower a rope for them to climb up.
Soon Josie, Hotdog, Bigwig, Silver, Campion and Blackavar were reunited with Derek, Hazel, Fiver, Hawkbit, Dandelion, Holly and Blackberry. Josie noted Alan's old friend had put on quite some weight and grown a beard over the years. But it broke her heart to see Alan wasn't among the survivors. The engineer stared back at Josie and Hotdog shell-shocked as he recognised two of his and Alan's childhood friends, whom he believed to be long dead.
"Hotdog? Josie Clayton? How…Where…What the hell are you fellows doing here?" he gasped in surprise, as Hotdog rushed forward to embrace his old friend, "Hallo to you too, Deke, old mate! Long time, no see."
"We're here on Alan's invitation," Josie explained to Derek, causing him to look even more confused, "On his invitation? Where did you come from…?" But Josie cut him off, "It's a long story and we haven't got time to discuss it now. What happened to you all?"
"I picked up seven survivors, including Alan," Derek explained, "We were attacked by that bloody bastard Woundwort - I suppose you've heard of that scumbag rabbit who's trying to enslave this world like Hitler?" Josie nodded, "He and Alan were clinging onto the side of the basket; the balloon was overloaded and we were sinking towards the inferno. Alan, he…" he paused at that moment, struggling to control his grief, "…he gave his life to save ours and destroy Woundwort." They all lowered their heads in silent sorrow, as Derek broke the news that Alan hadn't made it.
"But we still haven't found his body," Bigwig interrupted them, refusing to give up hope, "We all know he's made it through tougher scrapes than this, so there's a good chance he made it out somewhere further downstream." ("Huh! Not likely," muttered Hawkbit, earning him a cuff over the head from Bigwig). Still, refusing to give up hope, they decided to extend the search downriver. Of course, they couldn't use the boat because of the weir, which meant they'd have to continue on foot.
"I will continue the search and I need four volunteers to come with me," said Holly, recruiting Fiver, Silver, Blackavar and Derek. Bigwig wanted to come too, but his injuries would slow them down, so Hazel overruled him, "The rest of you get back to the warren and wait for us there."
Holly's group watched as Josie and Hotdog paddled back upstream with Hazel, Hawkbit, Dandelion, Campion and Blackberry, towards Watership Down. Once the boat was out of sight, the search and rescue group set off along the canyon, following the river. Past the weir and rapids, they found the canyon grew shallower as the ground levelled out with the river, making it much easier to search the shorelines.
The river further down was pretty narrow and twisted in many directions. They found many scorched tree trunks that had drifted downstream with the current, forming dams along the river, as well as several more bodies of drowned Efrafans, but no sign of Alan. Then, just as they were about to give up hope, they heard something: a desperate, frightened voice, calling for help.
"Help me! Somebody, help me!"
Following the voice, they came to a pile of timber washed up onto a sandbank. Lying pinned between two collapsed trees out in the shallows, was Vervain, looking utterly terrified. The former Head of Owslafa was struggling to keep his head above water, as the current continued hitting him relentlessly, slowly drowning him in his entrapment. The evil rabbit, that always took great pleasure in watching others suffer, was muttering to himself.
"My life has been reduced to nothing! I betrayed General Woundwort… Let the Black Rabbit take me already!" His eyes opened wide as saucers as he saw his enemies looking down at him, clearly not pleased to see him alive.
"What makes you think He'll want you Vervain?" asked Holly coldly, remembering what had happened to Bluebell, "I never had the impression Frith welcomed miserable, low-life creatures such as you into the Land Beyond Life." They all stared at Vervain with expressions of utmost hate, making no move whatsoever to help him. Only Fiver, who was staring at the sadist rabbit with pity, finally spoke up.
"Hang on, Vervain, we'll get you out." He tried to reach out to him, but Holly held him back, "Let's not be so hasty, Fiver; you saw what happened last time we made the mistake of letting this little scumbag go free. He isn't getting any more chances."
"But we can't just leave him to die like this!" the small buck protested, staring at each of his friends in turn. They all remained impassive. Blackavar glared at Fiver, "He abused me and tortured me all my life; it's because of him and his master that I'm reduced to this ghastly appearance," he growled in Lapine, indicating his shredded ears, "He deserves to die!"
"He's right. I say we leave him right where he is; he's finally getting what he deserves!" Holly snapped, glaring at Vervain. Although they could see Vervain was looking even more frightened at those words, he still had enough sickening pride to retort, "I won't beg for my life from the likes of you. Go, leave me in peace!"
"Happy to oblige you, chum," retorted Silver coldly. Vervain had made his bed and now he could sleep in it. They were all about to turn around and leave Vervain to his fate, when Derek intervened, "As much as I hate to say this, chaps, if we leave him like this, we'll be lowering ourselves down to his level. Even Alan wouldn't have wanted that."
"Hazel would never turn his back on a rabbit in trouble, not even Vervain!" said Fiver sternly, looking revolted at his companions' decision to leave Vervain to drown. Silver groaned in a very Hawkbit-like way; on one hand, he wanted nothing better than to watch Vervain die, but, on the other hand, he knew Hazel would be very displeased if they abandoned a helpless rabbit like this. Yet, the very idea of taking Vervain go free, seemed nothing short of foolish, not to mention dangerous.
"Have you gone out of your mind?" he snapped, "This miserable piece of hraka sold us out in search of a little glory! Should we ask Bluebell what he thinks, if we should help him?"
"I agree, he is too dangerous alive," said Holly, but then added, "But if we leave him here and he somehow survives, he'll be an even more lethal thorn in our side, just like Campion warned us. So let's compromise; we'll take him back with us…" Silver and the others seemed to want to protest; helping Vervain was one thing, but bringing him back to Watership Down, feed him, shelter him, was another matter, "…as a prisoner," he finished, "This way, we can ensure he doesn't return to his old tricks again."
Finally, Silver and the others reluctantly agreed and helped Vervain out of his entanglement. The rabbits pulled him ashore by the ears, where he collapsed on the grass from exhaustion.
"I say, look at this!" said Derek, noticing something tangled on Vervain's hind legs: a length of yellow rubber fabric with a paddle attached to it. They had found the remains of the dingy he and Robbins had used to escape. But there was no sign of Robbins anywhere. Hopefully, that evil man had finally gotten his comeuppance and they wouldn't be hearing from him again.
Further down, the floating debris had formed a large dam, blocking the river and preventing them from venturing any further downstream. With still no sign of Alan anywhere, they were forced to accept facts.
"We won't find anything else. He couldn't have drifted any further and still be alive," said Derek solemnly, "We should turn back, before we need a rescue," he said, staring at the slowly shifting dam of logs. Every layman knew that unstable dams such as these could easily give way in heavy weather, causing catastrophic flash-floods. If caught in the path of one of those, they could all be drowned in an instant. Although they hated to give up now, there was nothing more they could do here, so the group of depressed companions turned and made their way back upstream, making their way home with heavy hearts.
They returned to Watership Down thoroughly worn out. Hazel had resumed his leadership as Chief Rabbit and was struggling to get the overcrowded warren in order. Bluebell, although luckily had fared well in Josie's absence, still showed no change. Vervain was taken into confinement and placed under heavy guard.
By that time, most of the Efrafan refugees had fallen asleep in the overcrowded Honeycomb, but the Watershipers remained wide awake, anxiously waiting for news. Word had already spread about Alan's death, but luckily, Lucy had so far being kept in the dark about her father. Her Uncle Derek, whom she had been ecstatic to see again, had reassured her that her dad was fine and would be back tomorrow. They all dreaded having to break the truth to her soon or later. Finally, they had decided to keep her in the dark until they'd rounded up all the bodies, in the unlikely event that Alan somehow turned up alive.
Although they were all exhausted, not to mention in low spirits from the loss of Alan and the others who had perished in the Battle of Efrafa, they still had a lot of work to do before they could rest; the Watershipers had all those refugees to care for, and the humans needed to start tending to their own needs. Now that they were here to stay, they needed to start making plans for adapting, using their limited resources.
The biggest problem was the lack of power; the loss of their plane, besides severely limiting their transport, also left them without any reliable source of electricity. They had no backup generator, no fuel and no means of producing more power. Much of their equipment was battery-powered, which relied on regular recharging to work. Once their utility batteries were run down, they'd be going back to the Dark Ages.
Derek, the new de-facto leader of the group with Alan gone, had taken charge and ordered an immediate rationing of their remaining power, keeping the batteries running only for the cool-cases, where the medical supplies and seeds for planting were kept refrigerated, without which they'd soon spoil, and plunging the warren in almost total darkness.
"These batteries will be drained within a few days," he said, "We shall have to improvise some kind of generator, or maybe tap into the HAB's power grid, until we can work out a more permanent solution." After Josie had finished tending to the last of the injuries, the three humans, along with Hazel, Bigwig and Campion assembled outside for a meeting.
"So what happens now, Hazel?" asked Josie, who had kept to herself since they came back, lost in her brief for her husband and Alan, instead focusing on her work, but doing her best to keep her composure, "Or am I supposed to call you Hazel-rah now, since you're the Chief round here?" Hazel smiled.
"No need for formalities; when we're talking privately or amongst our friends, you can still call me Hazel. Anyway, as I was saying, now that the war is over, we have to move on. We have to rebuild our warren and the Efrafans will also need to be cared for until they can find a place to build a new warren."
"Then we must make some arrangements for our guests," Bigwig said, stressing the word guests, "The warren is overcrowded and tensions are dangerously high already; they aren't too accepting of our free way of life, nor of the presence of humans in our midst. Pipkin has being telling me about a few incidents of bullying and fighting breaking out. The fact that you idiots brought Vervain back with you isn't going to help things either. That riff-raff is one ungrateful, lazy waste of space, if you ask me... No offence, Campion," he added hastily to the Efrafan Captain, who gave him a reproachful glare for his insulting comments about his people, "Something has to be done about them, Hazel."
"My people have had a lifetime of being told what to do; it's all they've ever known," said Campion sadly, "All I ask is for some indulgence and understanding, and I will do my best to keep everyone in line until we can find a new home. To be on the safe side, I suggest that they be allowed to keep their distance from the humans, especially the child, at least for now, until they can adjust to their presence. Woundwort's branded the human race as a curse upon our kind, and his influence runs too deep to be undone overnight."
"You'll have all the indulgence we can offer you," replied Hazel reassuringly, "We may have to keep some of our own rabbits in line too while we're at it," he added, remembering how Hawkbit and Dandelion had already lost control of their hormones and had been flirting with the Efrafan does, resulting in a few angry rebukes as well as a fight as a result of rival jealousy between them. "We shall also have to make major changes to the warren; we already have our first litter of kittens and Hyzenthlay and her friends have decided to settle down here with us. Maybe some of the Efrafans might wish to remain…"
"Hold your horses for a moment," Hotdog interrupted, "That's all very well for you, but what about us? Where do we go, if your guests don't want us here?" Hazel patiently turned to Josie and Derek.
"I promised Alan that I would accept you among our people; that promise still remains in force. Alan has proven his loyalty and kindness to us and I have full confidence you're just like him at heart. You'll have our full support and friendship forever, with or without Alan. Although I can't foresee the future, I believe you won't betray our trust; Alan promised that we would always live together in peace." The three humans nodded gratefully. Difficult and uncertain times lay ahead of them, but the hospitality and friendship of the rabbits made all the difference in the world.
"And what about Lucy?" asked Josie, "If Alan is d…if Alan is gone, who will raise her? I know that she'll always have us all, but when we have to explain to her that her father is gone, who will assume guardianship?"
"I will," replied Derek, "I'm Alan's closest friend and he had made me her godfather when she was born. He told me that if anything should ever happen to him and Mary, I would raise her as my own. I intent to keep my best friend's wishes," he said, fighting back tears, reminded himself that Alan was indeed dead.
Later that night, Fiver lay in the burrow he shared with Hazel and Bigwig, both fast asleep, thinking about Alan. He still couldn't believe he was dead; the memory of his human friend throwing himself from the balloon to that horrible death, with Woundwort clinging to him, kept playing over in his mind. To the end, Alan had been fearless; he'd valued the lives of his friends more than his own. But why should he become the martyr? Although Fiver knew that if Alan hadn't chosen to sacrifice himself, they would all have all have been killed, it still felt so unfair that his life should be the price for their so-called victory.
He thought of Vervain, currently imprisoned and under heavy guard. That cowardly little scumbag had sold them out to his master and dragged them into this war in the first place. Why should Frith allow that waste of a rabbit that had started all this trouble survive, while Alan had to die? With another twinge of guilt, Fiver cursed his visions, which always forced him to see all those premonitions of doom, yet powerless to prevent them from happening. Alan had always insisted there was nothing to be ashamed for, as nobody has control over fate...
Suddenly, as if influenced by his late friend's words, Fiver suddenly realised something. He had had no vision of Alan's death prior to it happening. All his other visions; Sandleford's destruction, Cowslip and Robbins, everything he'd seen coming their way had happened just as foretold. But not this. Perhaps that meant…?
Remembering how his visions of the future were always correct, down to the last detail - one of the things Alan had helped him understand – with renewed hope, Fiver got up and made his way to another burrow, to consult with the only rabbit that could help him figure out this riddle: Silverweed. Although Cowslip's mystic didn't have premonitions of the future like Fiver did, he had this rare gift of being able to read minds through direct eye contact. Perhaps he could help him make some sense out of this mystery and, hopefully, help him determine Alan's fate for certain?
He found the mystic trying to reassure a distraught Pipkin, with whom he shared the burrow. The small buck was silently sobbing for the death of Alan; aside from Fiver, he had grown very close to that human, having found the closest thing to a fatherly figure in him, and now the Black Rabbit had taken him away from them…away from him. Fiver considered for a moment; he didn't want to risk sharing his suspicions that Alan might still be alive with anyone else just yet. Taking a deep breath, he entered the burrow.
"Hlao, will you please go and keep Lucy company for a while? There's something I want to discuss with Silverweed…privately," he asked, praying to Frith that Pipkin wouldn't start asking questions. To his great relief, Pipkin obeyed with argument and scurried out, but not before turning to look at Fiver, "Do I tell her…what happened?" Fiver shook his head firmly, "No, you heard Hazel; nobody breaths a word until we... know for certain."
As soon as Pipkin was out of earshot, Fiver sat and told Silverweed about the mystery surrounding Alan's death and the lack of a vision foreseeing the tragedy beforehand. The powerful mystic remained silent during Fiver's explanation, as if piecing the information together in his faraway mind. Finally, he spoke.
"So, you believe your friend Alan is still alive, because his noble sacrifice wasn't linked to any of your visions?" the mystic rabbit concluded once Fiver had finished, "And you want me to help you unravel the truth by entering into the depths of your mind?" Fiver nodded hopefully, but Silverweed shook his head.
"Hrair-roo, my powers don't work that way – you can see the future whenever Frith allows, but I can only see what you've already seen in your mind. Unless He grants you another vision, my power would be of little help…"At that moment, almost as if Frith Himself had been listening from above, the seer suddenly felt his sixth sense spring to life with another vision.
"He stands on the brink of the Shadowlands, waiting in the realm of those already departed, for his destined heart-brother to bring him back from the Beyond..." Then it was over; but for the first time, Fiver wasn't filled with fear of some upcoming disaster. Instead, the runt rabbit felt hope, as he realised what he had just seen.
"Alan is still alive! But he'll be lost forever if we don't find him and soon." At this, he turned and hurried out of the burrow, Silverweed in tow. The Honeycomb, where all the Efrafans slept, was dark, Derek having disconnected the work lights to save power. Ignoring the angry groans and complaints of several rabbits being disturbed from their slumber as they scampered over them, they exited the Honeycomb.
With dawn still several hours away meant that the elil were still lurking about on their night hunting grounds. Disregarding the dangers of what they were doing, the two mystics quietly left the warren and headed off into the night.
Author's notes: Coming up next is one of the most important chapters in this story. For any WD fan fiction fans, I suggest you refresh your knowledge of the Cross Bearer by RogueFanKC before reading the next chapter. Enjoy and please review!
