10. As in a Soul Remembering My Good Friends

[Cobb]

Mrs. Flowers examined the block of stone from all the angles she could access. It was curious that this perfectly cut block would be left in the middle of the tunnel, especially when there was an equally perfectly cut hole waiting for it to be fit into place.

There were no drag marks on the ground, at least not on this side. No space at the top for beasts to climb over it. No space to go around it. There were indentations gouged into the corner opposite the hole at just about the right height to be paw-holds. It was as if somebeast had carved the block to be a huge stone door blocking the path.

And the hole itself. She was pretty sure it was a hole. The end of the block was slotted into it, just enough to show how perfectly it fit. It also effectively blocked anybeast from seeing into the hole.

"Oi not be loikin' th' looks of this," Mrs. Flowers said to the group. "It be gurtly strange that thurr be a perfect block in th' way."

There were nods all around the group.

"Oi bain't be wantin' to, but et be best t'push et into th' hole. If Acer be in th' tunnel, he be needin' to come this way. Oi doan't think 'ee be small enuff t'squeeze through, but we'm best be sure. Stand clear so Oi have room t'work."

Jaskia, Timothy, and Nibs stepped back to give the mole her space. However, Elsine stayed close, tipping her head to try to see around the block.

"Do you need help pushing it, Mrs. Flowers," the badger asked.

The mole tugged her snout and turned to Elsine. "No, thank 'ee though. It be roight toight in yurr. Oi can manage, once Oi get moi claws in th' holds. You'm best be joinin' th' others thurr."

Mrs. Flowers dug her claws into the side of the block and shoved with all her might. To her surprise, it slid easily into place.

Click

Mrs. Flowers had just enough time to look back at her companions and hold a claw up to halt their forward progress. Then the world collapsed around her.

~~

When the stone and earth stopped falling, Mrs. Flowers found herself buried in the rubble. She had flung her left claw above her head to protect herself, and she tentatively moved it now. The detritus shifted easily around her, but she could feel it pressing all around. She moved just enough from in front of her face to give herself some breathing room. She would have to dig out of here quickly.

When she tried to move her outflung right arm, the throbbing started.

Waves of pain washed over the mole as she drew the damaged limb close to her body. Her head swam and she could hear nothing but the whooshing of her blood in her ears. It was definitely broken.

Cradling her hurt arm against her chest, she stopped and let the world return to normal. Sounds started filtering in through the dirt, softly at first, but becoming clearer as she focused on them. There was one advantage to keeping her eyes closed: being blind as, well, a mole, sharpened her other senses.

"Cel- Mrs.- .... Celandine!" Nibs's voice pierced the quiet. "Are you alright?"

The mole dug up and forwards as quickly as she could manage with only one working claw. The shifting earth around her made it difficult to climb out, but she finally felt her claws break through to the nothingness that signified open tunnel again. Her head came free of the dirt and she took greedy gulps of the relatively fresh air as she slid down the side of the mount to the floor.

Mrs. Flowers opened her eyes to more darkness. She had no torch, and the abbeybeasts were on the other side of the cave-in.

"Hurr, Oi be alroight, Aqillian," she called back to her friend. "Jus' a hurt arm."

Friar Timothy piped up, "Oh! Don't worry, Mrs. Flowers. We'll dig right through this and be there to help you in no time!"

The mole could hear the squirrel start scratching at the loose dirt.

"No! You'm can't be doin' that," she yelled at the others. "You'm be causin' another cave-in!"

All movement on the other side of the rubble stilled.

Mrs. Flowers went to the tunnel wall that did not contain the stone door. "Th' ceilin' whurr th' dirt fell be too weak naow," she explained. "We'm be needin' t'dig a new tunnel 'round it.

"'Ee all sit toight whoil Oi dig th' tunnel. Th' sandstone shudd be easy enuff t'move."

The mole approached the wall and started to chip away at it with her claws. She wasn't used to working with just her left claw, and instinctively reached out with her right.

"AH! Boi okey, tha' hurts!"

"Celandine,what is it?" The concern in her friend's voice was touching.

"Oi think moi arm be broken," she answered the hedgehog. "Oi can't be diggin' boi moiself. You'm all need t'be diggin' on yon side, too, or we'm be hurr all noight."

Mrs. Flowers was met with silence from the other side.

"Et be alroight. Oi can teach you'm haow." She straightened up, unconsciously using her training tone. "Naow, when you'm be diggin' a tunnel, th' sides shudd angle out as et be goin' up. But not too much. An' th' ceilin' needs t'be an arch.

"You'm need t'dig straight in six badger paces," she continued on. "Then turn t'th' left an' dig straight 'til we'm meet. Oi be diggin' frumm this side, too."

The badger spoke up. "But what are we going to dig with? None of us have shovels."

"Sister Elsine, yon claws shudd be tuff enuff t'dig through, same as moi claws-"

"But I'll get dirt under my claws," she interrupted.

"Oo arr! Et be gudd furr you'm, Sister."

The badger groused a bit, but Mrs. Flowers could hear her claws starting to scratch away at the wall. She called out to her friend, "Aqillian. You'm be havin' yore hatchet, aye?"

"Of course, Celandine."

"Et be gudd furr breakin' up th' stone an' dirt. But you'm will be needin' t'pull the loose bits out with yore paws. Sister Jaskia can help with 'ee rake. An' Friar Tim?"

The squirrel made a noise of acknowledgement.

"Yore wudden spoon be perfect furr pullin' out th' loose bits."

He harrumphed in response. "Now wait just a darn minute. This spoon is an artist's tool, not some common shovel!"

"I told you all to grab tools from the shed," grumbled Jaskia.

"Et'll have t'do, Friar. Naow, th' faster we'm be diggin', th' faster we'm can get out of hurr."

The beasts went quiet as they concentrated on digging their tunnels. Mrs. Flowers worked as best she could with only her left claw. It was slow, but she was able to turn the corner before meeting the others in the connecting tunnel.

Nibs handed his torch to Elsine and caught the mole up in a hug. She squeaked a bit in embarrassment, and he put her back down.

"Let's 'ave a look at your arm, then, Celandine," he said.

"Perhaps we could get out of this passageway and into the tunnel proper," Elsine suggested. The badger was stooped over to fit into the opening.

"Bo urr. That be a gudd idea."

Mrs. Flowers turned around and led the group back to where she had come out of the rubble. In the light from their torches, they could see objects lying on a shelf cut into the tunnel wall. Someone had been using these tunnels recently.

"Bring the light a bit closer, Elsine," Nibs instructed. "We're going to 'ave to make you a sling, Celandine."

"Burr aye. Et be needin' t'be splinted, too. Friar Timothy, Oi be needin' yore fork an' spatula."

The squirrel sighed and brought the utensils over to Aqillian. He looked at them sadly as he handed them over. "That was my favorite spatula."

"I've never splinted anybeast before, Cel. What do I need to do?"

"Firstly, we'm be needin' a length of cloth. A bit of yon tunic wudd do."

The hedgehog ripped the bottom of his tunic off.

"Aye. Naow, you'm put th' fork an' spatula on th' sides t'keep et frumm movin'.... Ah, gent'ly naow.... Gudd. Noaw wrap th' cloth 'round et toight t'keep 'em in place an' tie et off."

Nibs got her arm wrapped and fashioned a sling from a bit of her skirt. Jaskia and Timothy had been looking around with the other torch, but returned to the other three now.

"What did you find," Elsine asked them.

"The shelf had some baskets and Abbey robes," Jaskia answered. "It looks like whoever is using this tunnel has been sneaking into the gardens to steal my produce."

"I found some footpaw prints over there," the squirrel gestured to the far side of the cavern, "but they were pretty scuffed. Might've been webbed, though. Those dirty toads could be the ones coming through."

Elsine grunted. "I don't think they're smart enough to set up this trap, though. Wonder who did that."

"Could it 'ave been the abbeybeasts of yore, Celandine? Do the moles 'ave records of it," the hedgehog wondered.

"Burr, et's not very loikly t'be th' molers. Nobeast be tellin' Oi about th' tunnels afore Sister Jaskia found 'em in th' summer. An' th' trap be on th' wrong side t'be frumm us."

Elsine chimed in. "I don't recall anything about the tunnels in the Abbey records, either. I suppose they could be Kotirian remnants."

Celandine gave her snout a tug. "Ho aye. Thurr be sections of th' ruins runnin' all under th' Abbey."

Timothy looked back the way they came and sniffed a little. "I guess Acer wasn't down here in the tunnels. Even if he did manage to move the block, he would've caused a cave-in same as us."

The mole moved over to him and put her good foreclaw around his shoulders. "Oi be sorry we'm didn't foind 'ee, Tim. Oi be sure Bo, Peri, an' th' others did."

"Oh, Celandine! What am I going to do if he's hurt?" Timothy burst into sobs and laid his head on her shoulder.

The mole started a bit at hearing her first name from him, but she shrugged it off and patted his back while making shushing noises.

Jaskia had stood back, watching the emotional display with a bored expression. "I propose we keep going in the tunnels instead of turning back. What if whoever is using the tunnels kitnapped Acer? And even if they didn't, I'd like to know who's stealing my vegetables."

Nibs nodded. "We've been down 'ere for an awfully long time with nothing to show for it if we turn back now. I say we keep going."

He took out his hatchet and brandished it in front of him in what Celandine thought was supposed to be a menacing manner. He had his mouth pulled into an imitation of a snarl, but he couldn't quite manage to hide his natural smile. The mole chuckled. Sheepishly, he put the hatchet away and took his torch back from Elsine.

Timothy had managed to stifle his sobs and let out the occasional hiccough. "I'd appreciate it if we could keep going," he said with gratitude shining out of his face.

"Cel- Celandine, are you okay to keep going," the badger asked, turning to her.

"Hurr burr. Oi be alroight, Elsine. But we'm best be watchin' out furr more traps. Oi doan't want t'be buried again!"