Fibber nodded. ‘It’ll give us somewhere to rest out of sight until Total Shambles has recovered.’
The tunnel was almost the size of a large car, and tall enough that Total Shambles could, when he hung his head, limp inside. Moonlight trickled through the gaps in the brambles, falling about them in spiked shadows, and Fox noticed that there were little nuts, not unlike the snoozenut in her satchel, growing on a shrub that had become entangled with the brambles. She lifted the fablespoon out, whispered ‘please’ and held it up to one of the nuts.
NAME: DUSKNUT BUSH
CHARACTER: PERSISTENT, THRIVES WITH VERY LITTLE SUNLIGHT
RISKS UPON EATING A DUSKNUT: NONE, THOUGH BITTER AFTERTASTE
Fox picked one and bit into it. It wasn’t nearly as tasty as an omnifruit, and the bitter aftertaste really was unpleasant, but it was food nonetheless. She was too frightened to feel properly hungry, but she knew that they should eat every chance they got because who knew what dangers lay ahead? So Fox, Fibber, Heckle and even Total Shambles chewed on the nuts – right up until the point they noticed the firefly approach the tunnel. It hovered at the entrance, a beacon of light in the tangled forest.
‘Goldpaw talked of the Lofty Husks sending messages through fireflies,’ Fox whispered, a glimmer of hope sparking inside her.
Fibber’s eyes lit up. ‘Perhaps this is a message from Goldpaw saying that she’s on her way to help us?’
The twins watched, spellbound, as the firefly moved back and forth. So bright was its light that it left its glowing movements hanging in the dark as words, like the way a sparkler does when you wave it at night. Fox read the message aloud:
Dear Fox and Fibber,
It is Goldpaw here. Wherever you are in Jungledrop I hope that you are safe.
Since Iggy’s kidnap, more Unmappers have been taken by the Midnights, so I have instructed everyone to remain in Timbernook, where the protection charms are strongest. But in staying here we have limited access to food and water. So the survival of everyone and everything in Jungledrop depends upon your finding the Forever Fern in the next few days - before Morg’s dark magic closes in on us for good…
Trust in the flickertug map. It will guide you well, and I have faith that your time in Jungledrop will show you that quests are more easily won and foes more likely beaten when you have someone by your side. Know that Brightfur and I believe in you and that, while you search for the fern, we will do all that we can to protect Timbernook and Doodler’s Haven from Morg’s dark magic so that there is a chance, in all of this, for us to send rain on to the Faraway in the end.
You are our only hope now.
Goldpaw.
The firefly melted into the night and, as the darkness returned, Total Shambles hobbled to the entrance of the tunnel, perhaps to keep guard.
Fibber watched him. ‘He may not be that graceful, but he’s a noble swiftwing all the same.’
Fox scoffed. ‘What use will an injured swiftwing be against Morg’s dark magic?’
Fibber thought about this. ‘Maybe it’s a bit like what Goldpaw said in his message: foes are more likely beaten when you have someone by your side.’
And such was the way that Fibber said those words that Fox wondered whether her brother was just talking about Total Shambles.
The swiftwing rested his head on his front legs while Heckle nestled herself on top of Fox’s satchel.
Fox lay down in the dark, too, but she couldn’t sleep. ‘What was the point of Goldpaw’s message?’ she said sulkily. ‘Apart from saying that more Unmappers have been kidnapped and time is running out, it didn’t tell us anything we don’t already know.’
Fibber was facing away from her, his body curled protectively round his briefcase, but he was listening all the same. ‘Maybe there doesn’t always have to be a point to a message,’ he said after a while. ‘Maybe Goldpaw just wanted us to know that we’re not alone. That she and Brightfur are rooting for us.’
Fox said nothing. Nobody had ever rooted for her. The very idea seemed extraordinary.
They fell silent again. And the Bonelands was silent, too. An eerie stillness hung over everything. Eventually, Fibber spoke, his voice just a whisper in the dark.
‘I’m tired, Fox.’
Fox was about to reply that she was incredibly tired, too, but that she was sure it was par for the course when being a successful businesswoman, so really this was quite good training. But then she hesitated because there was something about the tone of her brother’s voice again that made her wonder whether there was more than one meaning to his words.
‘I’m tired of doing things for Mum and Dad that I don’t want to do,’ Fibber said quietly. ‘Tired of competing against you. Tired of being told by Mum and Dad, every single day, that I don’t measure up to you – that you’ll be the one to save the Petty-Squabble empire because you’re better than me.’ He paused. ‘And I’m tired of waking up each morning, pretending I’m someone I’m not.’
Fox could scarcely believe what she was hearing. All her life she had been told by her parents that Fibber was the superior twin. That he was cleverer than her. That he was a better liar than her. That he was, ultimately, far more talented and that he would save the family fortune. She had grown up believing herself to be the talentless, unlovable one. Yet if Fibber was telling the truth now then, unbeknown to her, he had been told that she was the one her parents had the most faith in.
Fox stared into the darkness of the tunnel. She knew her parents thought rivalry inspired greatness, but had they really been pitting her and her brother so obviously against each other all their lives only to save the Petty-Squabble empire? How could she and Fibber have fallen for such a trap?
