Dedbone was gone. He and Nessa were free. But they were stuck in a tunnel, deep underground, with a mountain sitting on top of them. Furgul was hungry and thirsty. He was hurting from head to toe from the beating and the biting and the shooting and the fall. He twisted his head back and licked the wounds in his thighs. He tasted his own blood, but the buckshot wounds didn’t seem deep. He’d been lucky. Now he had to try to be clever. “Furgul?” said Nessa. “My leg hurts. I can’t walk properly.” “Can’t you walk on three legs, Nessa?” asked Furgul. “I want Mama. And Eena and Brid.” Furgul knew exactly how Nessa felt. But his instinct told him that if they felt sorry for themselves, they would never see daylight again. He had to be tough. He said, “For the moment all you’ve got is me.” “You won’t leave me, Furgul, will you?” “No,” said Furgul. “But you’ve got to walk. And you can’t cry.” The tunnel was completely dark. Even with his superb eyes he could see nothing.
