Twenty Four

Only one direction remained, back to the lake, and it was this way that Soma and Squee went to. Both of them were exhausted. Ember had led them on quite a chase, traveling as fast as she did, and they having to keep themselves hidden. Many times they were on the verge of just giving up and dropping down to the path and following them in the open, but they had their professional pride to consider, and kept up pursuit through the trees. There was a lot to report, and Soma reviewed it all in her mind. Bumbarta would want to hear everything. He wasn't amused when he did. On the contrary, he was furious and was barely able to contain his rage.
"What do I care about eggs?" he stamped around the fire. "What's all this about warm rocks and talkative crows and stupid giants and that little girl smashing things against trees? Where's my way out? Where's what's important?"
Soma and Squee stood nervously, eyeing the hall to the door. They had done all they could. The other Watchers on guard filed in. Those who'd accompanied them confirmed what they said. Those who'd gone after Baudry and Barque added the details of squirrels and sap.
"I don't care about any of that!" Bumbarta came close to shouting. All of the Watchers were alarmed to see their boss angry. He was usually so calm, and smiling, but now those white teeth seemed wicked and scary, and those eyes were making them squirm. Bumbarta waved them away, and yelled a sort of apology after them.
"It's just a slight headache," he called. Outside the hut, the Watchers gathered around Soma, who did her best to reassure them.
"Our uncle doesn't feel well," she told them. "I'm sure he'll be better tomorrow. In the meantime, I think he needs rest."
The Watchers drifted away, leaving Soma and Squee alone on the banks of the lake.
"What do you really think?" Squee asked.
"He's mad about something," Soma replied. "But he's not mad at us."
"That's good," Squee answered. "I just wish we could make him feel better."

"It's better already," The Hidden One whispered to no one. She was deep in her hole underground. She had waited until her team had disbanded before sending the squirrel back down the tree. It paused, sniffing around the knothole. The egg shell had mostly peeled off and fallen onto the ground. The yolk was now dripping, making its way slowly into the hole, where it was mixing itself with the syrup. The squirrel took another step closer, lifting its paw when it felt the sticky mixture getting into its claws. It brought the paw up to its mouth, and licked it. The taste was delicious. The squirrel dipped its paw in for more.
"Mmmm," The Hidden One said, experiencing the flavor through the mind of the squirrel.
"Better and better," The Hidden One said. Already she felt herself weaken. Her bones were finally giving in to their ultimate fate, to return to the dust, where they belonged.
"This is it," The Hidden One smiled in her mind. "Finally, the cure. Just one thing remains," she murmured. She searched in the walls of her brain, reaching out to all the wide forest, locating her granddaughter, Ember, who was at that moment sitting on a tree stump, holding her head in her hands, trying her best to forget what she'd done. Nearby sat a cricket, whose chirping was not being noticed. The cricket kept trying, kept getting closer, hopping and hopping, until finally it leaped onto one of Ember's knees. It used its antenna to tickle her. She brought down a hand to brush it away, but the cricket just jumped to the other knee, then back when she swatted again. Back and forth it went on, until Ember finally looked up and noticed the insect staring right at her, and chirping its little heart out. It was only repeating one message, over and over again.
"Thank you, my child."
"Thank you, my child."
"Thank you, my child."
Ember smiled through her tears. She had done the right thing after all.