Vesta pointed. ‘It sounds like Magma, but it’s coming from over there.’ She pointed at the Air Marshals’ camp. The stony stretch was visible as was the top of a few tents. ‘We have to go see,’ said Iggy. Rocco squinted. It was dangerous going anywhere near the camp. ‘We don’t have to go right in,’ said Vesta. ‘We can just investigate and then decide what to do. You rescued Iggy and me.’ Vesta was right. Magma, if it was him, deserved to be rescued as much as anyone else. ‘It just that it’s more – risky now than it was the first time,’ said Rocco. A noise, hollow and reckless, filtered up through the trees. ‘See! It’s urvogel, that sound. I’m sure of it!’ said Vesta, dropping into the trees again. Iggy tugged Rocco’s wing. They flew down. Rocco kept watch at the back, looking left and right for any signs of an ambush.
