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The others felt it too. The Mole ceased giving voice to his worries, Toad stopped his boasting, and soon only the rhythmic splash of the Rat’s oars broke the silence.

“Here we are.” The Rat headed toward a small gravel beach on the inside bend of a long meander. Ahead of them, a willow trailed branches into the flow. Whether it was the same willow under which the Rat had told his story of the man and the knife and the baby, Rose didn’t know. At least this one had its leaves and the sunlight found them over the water.

“Stay close,” the Rat said. “And for goodness’ sake, Toady, keep your mouth closed. At least until we get there. And after that too, until Badger asks you a question. You know he has no time for your foolishness.”

Badger’s house lay a short walk away, up a steep bank through the trackless undergrowth. Rose didn’t feel entirely safe until the Rat’s knocking finally resulted in a bolt being shot back and the plain wooden door opening on well-oiled hinges.

“Who is it this time?” a gruff voice demanded. Badger’s striped snout emerged to sniff at them, his huge form filling the tunnel beyond. Suspicious black eyes peered from beneath a sleeping cap. “Why, Ratty, what brings you here at this hour?”

“Badger! We need your—”

“Help, I suppose.” And with a grunt he retreated back down the passage.

There was something comforting about the musky animal smell of the Badger’s home. It wasn’t unclean in any way. The untidiness was at just the right level, below the starchy neatness of houses that want you not to touch anything and to sit upright in your chair, above the somewhat chaotic decay of Toad Hall, more formal though than the cozy homes of the Rat and the Mole.

Badger, his feet making no sound in their worn slippers, turned around in the oak-paneled entrance chamber, where his grandfather clock ticked and tocked solemnly through the day, and led them into his study. His gaze flickered to Rose several times with an air of puzzlement, but it was on the clammiest of the companions that it settled.

“I suppose Toad has got himself into trouble again?” Badger raised both shaggy eyebrows at Toad, who stood with the Mole behind Rose and the Rat.

“Haven’t.” Toad, like the Mole, was somewhat in awe of the Badger.

“We’ve come about Rose,” the Rat said. “A bookworm’s been sent after her. And you know how it is with Rose.”

“Hmmm,” the Badger rumbled. “I’m not sure I do. She’s new to this copy.” He frowned, and to see a frowning badger is a fearful thing. “Memories are filtering through now she stands before me though. Hmmm.”

“I remember you, Mr. Badger, sir,” Rose said respectfully.

“I do not doubt you, young lady.”

Badger took the kettle from the hearth and poured them all tea. Toad found his courage and talked for a while about his motorcar and the magnificent jump it had made from the bridge. He would have said more, but the Rat steered the conversation into topics better to his and the Badger’s liking, of boats and currents and the changing seasons and the blowing of the wind.

In time, the Badger’s replies grew fewer and further between, until at last the Rat fell silent.

“A bookworm, you say?” The Badger peered at the Rat.

“A terrible one.” The Rat’s whiskers twitched.

“You should leave the girl—Rose—you should leave Rose with me and be on your way, you three. It’s better that you don’t know where she’s gone.”

“Oh, but we couldn’t,” squeaked the Mole, looking suddenly horrified that he’d spoken.

“We can’t just abandon our friend…” The Rat shook his head.

“You are not abandoning her,” the Badger said gravely. “You are holding the fort. Rose will be welcome back, but until this bookworm is somehow dealt with it will be dangerous for her to stay too long in any one place, especially anywhere the worm has known her previously to be.” He got to his feet and, with his great size, gently ushered them before him toward the door. “I will show Rose the paths she must take, and you, my friends, must return to your lives.”

At the door, with evening darkening the Wild Woods all around them, Rose had to say her goodbyes. The Rat and the Mole embraced her with tickling whiskers and damp eyes and words of encouragement. Toad restrained himself to a moist and yielding handshake and advice on the best motorcar to purchase, but then, when only ten yards down the slope, rushed back, wrapped her in a rib-creaking hug, and burst into floods of tears. The Rat and the Mole led him off again, still blubbing and sniffing. “Oh, Ratty, we’ll never see her again.” And more faintly in the distance: “That damnable worm will eat her, Moley, mark my words!”

Chapter 7

Rose

“That damnable worm will eat her, Moley, mark my words!” Toad’s voice faded into the distance.

“Pay that one no heed,” the Badger remarked. “Hasn’t got the sense he was born with. His father was the same. The poor mother…but I digress. It is time for you to leave, my dear child, though there will be no more flying motor vehicles involved.” He locked his front door with a big key and led off in the opposite direction to that taken by the others.

The woods grew steadily darker as the Badger took them higher, following paths that Rose doubted she would have seen even in the full light of day.

“You’ve moved from one world to another, Rose, and you found your own path, which is commendable in itself. Perhaps you have some badger blood in you, eh? A burrower. You like to dig into things and are stubborn enough to get to the bottom.” The badger shouldered through a stand of rhododendrons. “The solution to many problems is simply knowing where to dig. For example, we are going up to go down. It is all very well tunneling in the soil, but for our purposes we want to find the bones of the Earth itself. And it saves a lot of digging if you just go to where…” He paused now as the trees thinned rapidly around them and a cliff face loomed above them.