Eatbugs' eyes blinked open. For a moment, while his body still lay slack and motionless, they filled with an intense, cool fire. Then the light flickered in their depths, and seemed to die. The lids sagged back into place, and all was still as stone once more.

Skinwretch was waiting for Fritti when he arrived at the spur tunnel. The Toothguard was doing a little dance of anticipation, his furless tail kinking and wriggling like a drowning nightcrawler. Tailchaser, who had spent what seemed like Eyes and Eyes working his way carefully across the mound to this spot, approached as quietly as he could, only to be greeted by Skinwretch's shrill, excited hiss.

"Tunnelwalker! Have you come? I have newsss, newsss!"

"Silence!" Fritti himself hissed. "What news?"

"I have found your prisoner!" said the Toothguard gleefully. "Ssskinwretch hasss done it!"

Tailchaser felt the pressing of time. "Where? Where is she?"

Skinwretch grinned, the mouthful of teeth below the scarred snout gleaming crazily. "Not far from here, oh yesss, very clossse. Oh, clever Sskinwretch hass ssserved the Lord of All!"

Trying to keep his patience, Fritti waited with dry mouth as Skinwretch described where Roofshadow was being held. When the eyeless Toothguard had finished Tailchaser began to back away, planning furiously, then suddenly stopped.

I'd better keep up appearances, he thought. This creature is a terrible enemy, but he makes a good ally.

"You have done well," he told the Toothguard. "The Master will be pleased. Remember, not a word to anyone!"

"Of coursse not. Not clever Ssskinwretch!"

As he watched the creature's mad caperings, Fritti suddenly noticed something he had missed in his excitement. "Where's Scratchnail?" he demanded. "You were to keep him with you."

A sudden look of fear crossed Skinwretch's ruined features. "Oh, Tunnelwalker, that one. He isss full of ossss. He would not stay by me, and I could not make him-he iss very powerful, you know. He ran off into the tunnelsss, crying and ssaying ssstrange thingsss. He wasss punished becaussse of the pris-soner, and he iss sssick with the osss."

Nothing to be done, thought Fritti. "Never mind," he told Skinwretch, who brightened immediately. "Go on, now, and if I need you I will find you."

Tailchaser darted out of the spur tunnel and across the main shaft, stopping in an alcove on the far side, shielded by darkness from observing eyes. When he looked back he saw Skinwretch, maimed face in a crooked smile, still leaping and jigging in the shadows.

Hiding in pools of deeper shade, stealing quietly past squadrons of bristling, congregating mound-dwellers, Fritti moved like a spirit-cat through the awakening underworld. The mound-beasts were everywhere-moving, whispering, flexing sharp red claws.

Fritti reached the junction of three tunnels that Skinwretch had described. Looking cautiously around, and seeing no one paving attention, he ducked down the passage that the Toothguard had instructed him to take. Tail erect, whiskers tingling and every bit of fur puffed upright, he crept downward.

A shaft entrance in the tunnel wall ahead. That was the one! He felt an urge to leap, but controlled himself. Carefully, carefully…

He reached the hole and peered cautiously down. In the dim light at the bottom of the shaft he could see… Pouncequick! His heart leaped. The young killing and Roofshadow were being kept in the same cave! His luck was holding.

Leaning farther forward, he could now see two more shapes. Roofshadow! And was the old one Eatbugs? But why weren't any of them moving? Could they be… but no. He could see Pouncequick's sides rising and falling.

Something crashed down on him like a toppling tree. With a yowl of pain he tumbled to the side of the cavern entrance. Standing over him with a massive paw cocked for another blow was a large black shape. The half-familiar face of the Clawguard leered down at him.

"What are you up to, then?" the brute growled.

"N-nothing!" squeaked Fritti. "M-m-my name is T-Tunnelwalker, and I've lost my way." He tried to make himself small against the earth. The Claw leaned closer.

"Is that right?" he snarled, and his hot breath made Tailchaser blink. The beast's eyes narrowed. "Just a moment. You look familiar. What's that mark on your head?"

His head? Forehead? Skydancer's Tears! Fritti cursed himself. He must have wiped the masking dust from his face when he had emerged from the slave tunnel.

Fritti made a sudden squirming movement toward escape, but the heavy paw descended on his neck, scarlet claws softly pricking his throat.

"By the Great One!" said the Claw. "If it isn't our little escaped sun-rat! Isn't that fine!"

In a rush of despair, Fritti recognized his captor. It was Bitefast, Scratchnail's former companion, who now bared his teeth at the trapped Tailchaser in a terrible smile. "Well now," chuckled the Claw, "it's awfully good that I should be the one to find you. Because of you, they ruined the chief. All because of you!" The paw pushed cruelly down on Fritti's throat. He coughed helplessly.

"Well, I'm the chieftain now." Bitefast smirked. "And I'm going to make sure you get what you deserve." The black beast squatted, and pushed his deep-set eves up next to the face of his wheezing captive. The Claw's voice descended to a vindictive whisper.

"I'm giving over you straight to the Fat One!"

Tailchaser was pushed, prodded, bitten and bullied down the now-crowded corridors by Bitefast. As they passed-the dark and muscular Clawguard driving the small orange cat-some of the mound-dwellers turned to stare curiously after the mismatched pair. There was nothing unusual in the sight of one of the captive Folk being herded to punishment or doom, but the small cat was snarling and balking-resisting! It had been a long time since any had seen the sun-dwellers showing any fight.

Fritti, in a haze of pain, frustration, and anger, did observe an unusual thing: there were no slaves; no work gangs to be seen sullenly treading the roads of Vastnir. Apparently their work was done. No wonder he had been discovered.

Bitefast directed Fritti down through crowds of indifferent Clawguard and hissing, wrinkle-skinned Toothguard. Down, from level to level, passing beneath the Greater Gate, to arrive at last at the vaulted antechamber to the Cavern of the Pit.

Before the entrance to the Seat of Hearteater stood a group of Clawguard, arguing. The apparent leader, a squat, chunky beast with only a stump where his tail had been, seemed to be trying to restore order. He snapped at one of his minions, who retreated growling, but crept back a moment later with head held low.

"Ho, Crushgrass!" Bitefast called to the tailless one. "What are you and your pack of mouse-huggers doing-down here?"

Crushgrass turned to peer at the new arrivals. "Ah, it's you, is it, Bitefast!? Very bad, very bad all this is."

"What are you whining about?" asked Bitefast with a tongue-lolling grin.

"It's Snapjaw here," said Crushgrass worriedly. "He and some of my other fellows have been hearing strange things in the upper Catacombs."

"Scratching, like," said Snapjaw, low-browed and sullen. "It's not right."

Bitefast barked a harsh laugh. "What these fellows need is some sharp teeth put to 'em. You need to keep these shirkers under a firmer paw, Crushgrass." He laughed again. There was an unpleasant murmuring among Crushgrass' guards. "And what are you all doing here in any case?" Bitefast continued. "The Master'1l have your eyes!"