THE LIGHT IN THE NORTH

CHAPTER 18 - Fire and Snow

Over the next two weeks, Ace seemed determined to put it all behind him. Whether he met with praise, criticism or curiosity, he dealt with it the same way, replying modestly, then politely but firmly changing the subject. He’d talked it all over with Will, and with the Commander and General Herdalen. It was this prophecy that bothered him most, but all three of them had told him to try not to worry about it, so he did his best to put it out of his mind and concentrate on his work and on his team.
He wasn’t the only one. It was as if everyone had suddenly realised that it was only a month until Graduation Night, and that now was the time to put in some final effort, before it was too late. Ace had to admit it was easy enough to forget about prophecies in the bustle of everyday life. He had enough to worry about, he thought, with a goblin on his team who couldn’t think about anything but baby goblins.
He hoped it wouldn’t be too long before Kulsukker could go to his proper home. The longer it went on, the more heart-wrenching it was going to be for Hogweed to part with him, but Madge herself had returned to camp to take on the case, so maybe it wouldn’t be too much longer. The unit from England 1 had gone home, as Colonel Pentreath had insisted that he needed them, but General Stalden had provided a small escort from Fighter Squadron for Madge as she visited the local goblin colonies.


Ace didn’t like to ask how the search was going. The senior officers were going about with serious frowns on their faces, and clearly had a lot on their minds. Meetings were going on that lasted long into the night, and General Széchenyi was constantly gathering information, Will said, and getting very good at using the Internet. Various colonels came for meetings and went away again, and one who came and didn’t go away was Bjørk Kinnekulle. That, more than anything, told Ace that something was up. He knew Gran well enough by now to know that Bjørk was the one he called on when there was trouble.
By contrast, the sergeants and corporals presented an unruffled face to the world. No matter how worried they were inside, the recruits were their priority. They gave their time unstintingly to help everyone learn as much as possible and get as far as they could, and Ace thought it was terrific to see everyone responding to that and really working hard. They didn’t miss General Vandenesse at all, but everyone was curious to know what was going to happen to him.


Commander Biagioni was concerned about that, too. She’d listened to a lot of people’s opinions before coming to a decision. The decision had caused her much thought and many sleepless nights, but once it was made, her mind was at peace, and she knew it was the right thing to do. On the day that General Vandenesse was released from detention, she gave him six hours to recover, and then, in the early evening, asked him to come to see her, not in her office, but in her house.
He came promptly, immaculately dressed. There were shadows under his eyes, and he held himself stiffly, as if his icy bearing was the only dignity he had left.
“Sit down, Viorne,” said the Commander. “It’s a cold night, isn’t it? Let me get you a drink. Here you are – hot blackcurrant, excellent for keeping out the cold.”
He murmured his thanks, and took a seat in a comfortable armchair. She noticed how he looked around the room, and how its elegance and style seemed to calm him, and she was glad of it. This was an elf whose real talent was his eye for beauty. He’d been out of his depth, not just as Chief of Staff, but for a long time.
“I asked you here tonight so we could discuss your future,” she said. “I’m afraid that you can’t continue as a general. Your position here is now untenable, and I’m sure you realise that yourself.”
“But… you can’t do that! Can you? I mean, I thought only parliament could appoint and dismiss generals? Has parliament ordered my dismissal?”
“No,” said Gia. “But nevertheless, I am dismissing you. All that concerns us now is what you are going to do next.”
“But Gia – I mean, Commander – please don’t do this to me! Don’t turn me into a laughing stock, I’ll never live it down!”
That response, so very much what she had expected, could have made her angry, but it just filled her with pity.
“Your talents, as far as I can see, have been wasted,” said Gia, ignoring this plea. “Your real skill is in creating objects of great beauty, and it’s a mystery to me why you were not appointed to Supplies in the first place. But it’s never too late. I am offering you an appointment to Supplies at your old rank of colonel, and I hope that you will take it.”
“Sweden?” said General Vandenesse. “I appreciate the offer, but no, I don’t want to live in Sweden. I suppose there’s no chance of getting my old job back, in France 1?”
“I’m afraid not. General Herdalen informs me that you weren’t too successful in that role either.”
“I see. In that case, it’s my wish to retire from active service. I am a little young for it, it’s true, but I have served many years and the situation is not without precedent.”
“Very well. If that’s your wish, I see no reason why you should not keep the rank of general in retirement.”
His eyes lit up, and Gia could see that the idea pleased him.
“I accept. Allow me a few days to make a tidy end here – finish the first appointments, for example – and I will leave quietly, without any fuss.”
“Thank you,” said Gia. “May I ask what your plans will be for your retirement?”
“I shall go home to France, and devote myself to a project I’ve had in mind for a long time. I’m going to write a book about design. Far too many of our people think that all you need for a table is four legs and a top!”
Gia laughed, understanding his vehemence and sympathising.
“Then I wish you the very best for your project, which will be something really useful for generations to come.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Is that all, then?”
“Yes, that’s all, thank you, Viorne. Carry on.”


Once he’d gone, Gia wrote out a few messages, some in code, then wrapped herself up in a big coat and wound a scarf around her neck. The wind was bitterly cold tonight. She went to Signals and dropped her messages in her tray, then went to find Gran. He’d be out by now, faithfully patrolling the camp as he did every night. She found him over near the Weapons Shed, where some recruits were hastily finishing whatever they’d been up to, and departing with innocent expressions.
“Forfeits, I think,” said Gran with a smile as Gia fell into step alongside him.
“Was that Kiefer Immindingen I saw just then?”
“It was,” said Gran. “I’m almost glad to see him getting into mischief. He’s learning to relax, and if he does, then so will his team.”
“Which for them, is a very good thing,” said Gia. “It’s always hard, this time of year, realising we’ll soon have to say goodbye to the second years, but then you look at the first year and realise there are always interesting characters coming along to take their place.”
“May it always be so,” said Gran. “How did he take it?”
“Very well. He refused the offer of Supplies, but said he’d like to retire. I accepted that. He’ll quietly finish off his work here, then keep the rank of general in retirement.”
“That’s not bad,” said Gran. “Well done – great tribute to your tact. Bet he didn’t spot the implications though, did he?”
“If he did, he didn’t mention it. His thoughts seemed to be only for himself.”
“As they always have been, I’m afraid,” said Gran. “So, when does the letter go off to Wielkopolska?”
“First thing in the morning. Elsa Žepa, the colonel of Messengers herself, is going to take it. It seemed appropriate.”
“Does she know what’s in it?” laughed Gran. “She might not want to take it if she did.”
“It’s ironic, isn’t it? But there won’t be room for divided loyalties much longer. She’s not the only one who’s going to have some hard thinking to do. I’m just thankful that there are so many people we can rely on absolutely. I’m starting to pass the word around. You’d better let some of the recruits know too, Gran. If anything happens to us, they need to know who they can trust.”
“I agree, it’s time. I’ll get onto it. And Gia – it’s not my place to say this, but I’m going to say it anyway – you made the right decision. Whatever happens, it was right, and that’s all that matters.”
“Thank you, Gran. That means more than you’ll ever know.”


The writing paper Gia had used was not embossed with symbols or ornamented with coloured inks, but its quality was superb, as befitted a letter from the Commander of the Sprite Army to the Premier Envoy of Parliament. It was brought to the Premier as he sat at his desk, an island in a sea of soft carpet. His assistant carried it on a silver tray.
“This has just come from the army, sir,” she said. “The messenger is waiting, in case there is a reply.”
“Thank you, Cally. Please ensure the messenger is shown our best hospitality.”
The Premier waited until he was alone again, then slit open the envelope and began to read. As he read, a close observer might have noticed the slight flaring of his nostrils that indicated he was very angry indeed.
To the Premier Envoy, greetings:
We write concerning the officer appointed by parliament to the rank of general and the position of Chief of Staff, Viorne Vandenesse. This officer’s conduct has fallen short of the high standard we in the army expect of our generals, and it is with regret that we must inform you that he has been dismissed from his post. We are informing you of this merely as a courtesy. There will be no need for you to appoint a replacement, as we intend to do that ourselves.
With best wishes,
Gia Iris sibirica Biagioni, Commander
Gran Picea abies Herdalen, Head of Land Forces
Nella Soldanella alpina Stalden, Head of Air Forces
Inula Inula germanica Saal, Chief of Police
Dizzy Coreopsis tinctoria Széchenyi, Head of Logistics

The Premier’s anger raged for a while unabated, but then he smiled, and tapped his fingers on his desk thoughtfully. He rang a bell, and his assistant came scurrying back in.
“Tell the messenger that there is no reply,” he said. “And get me General Huskvarna, Envoy Yantra and Envoy Pentreath.”


When the Premier summoned you, you didn’t waste time, and very soon the sprites he’d asked for arrived at his office. He greeted them all with his customary courtesy, and saw them seated comfortably, but then spoke briskly and decisively.
“We have a rebellion on our hands,” he said. “The army have rejected General Vandenesse, and intend to replace him themselves, in direct contravention of Emergency Motion 15 of 1994. Needless to say, we must take action at once. The authority of parliament must not be flouted in this manner. Envoy Yantra, you will proceed at once to Fjaerland and deliver this message: that Commander Biagioni, and Generals Herdalen, Stalden, Saal and Széchenyi must surrender their positions and report to parliament to answer the charge of unlawful activity.”
“Do you really think they will, Premier?” ventured Envoy Yantra.
“No, I do not. Nevertheless, the message must be delivered. General Huskvarna, you will assemble troops sufficient to arrest all five of them by force. You have some in that area already, don’t you?”
“That’s right,” said General Huskvarna. “The new unit, ready for the offensive action in the spring – closing the paths and crossing places, so their new recruits can’t get through.”
“I remember. Excellent. They’re already on the spot… with Major Diolkos, I think? He can lead them. You organise reinforcements, to arrive by the end of October. He’ll need more than just the new unit.”
“Of course, Premier.”
The Premier turned then to the last sprite he’d summoned, an English fairy from Cornwall who’d been an envoy for ten years, and worked in the Intelligence Office.
“Envoy Pentreath, I want you to travel to England. I have a strong feeling that these troublesome events are not unconnected with the recent fiasco regarding Lieutenant Hakarp, another thing which must not go unpunished. Go to the county of Cheshire, and find out all you can about a colony called Moseley Wood.”


Miles further north, in Norway, the days were rapidly getting shorter. Gran Herdalen used the long October evenings well, inviting recruits into his home in small groups. Some first years and some second years, some leaders and some definitely not, but all of them committed to the cause. Without alarming anyone, he let them know what was coming, and spoke to them all individually, giving them his warm approval and making sure they all understood as much as they needed to. Finally, on the night the first snow fell on Fjaerland camp, he invited Ace’s team. He’d left them until last, because he’d been waiting for someone else to arrive back on camp.
When Ace saw her, his eyes lit up, and he grinned.
“Good evening, Major Arley,” he said.
Madge sighed with happiness, and wiped away a tear.
“Now you really are a soldier,” she said.

While Madge was greeting everyone else, Gran got them all a drink, delighting the fairies with elderberry cordial, and making the elves and Hogweed smile at the sight of foaming tankards of beer.
“Can I have beer, too?” said Dan.
“Of course you can, Dan,” smiled the general. “Here you are. This may be our last chance to spend some time together for quite a while, so we may as well enjoy ourselves, even if some of the news is rather sombre.”
Kulsukker had some fresh stream water, that being the very best thing for baby goblins, and he drank from a special mug that Will had made for him, copied from the ones that human babies have, with a lid and a spout, so the rest of them didn’t get too wet when he waved his cup around. He sat happily on Hogweed’s knee, with his cup in one hand and a toy lemming, that Rose had made for him, in the other.
“What’s the news, Major?” asked Hogweed anxiously. “Have you found his colony?”
“No,” said Madge. “I’m sorry to say there isn’t a goblin colony within twenty miles radius that I would trust him to. I’ve been to six. Two were downright nasty and treat their youngsters as servants. Two were nice enough, but the goblins who live there are old and fat, and spend most of their time asleep. He’d be in danger in a place like that, with no-one to keep an eye on him. The other two were filthy, ramshackle places where no-one would care whether he was well brought-up or not.”
“Oh, no!” said Hogweed. “So what’s going to happen to him?”
“It was actually General Vandenesse’s decision. I made a suggestion to him, after talking it over with Sergeant Camilo, and the general approved it before he left. Kulsukker is going to live at the School for Homeless Young Sprites.”
“Oh!” said Clover, excited. “But that’s in England, isn’t it?”
“One of them is,” said Madge. “There are three others, but England is the nearest.”
“I think it’s a good idea,” said Gran. “He’s become attached to you all now, and this way, you’ll be able to pop in and visit him whenever you’re passing.”
“That’s not too bad!” said Hogweed. “He’ll be safe there, won’t he?”
“Safe and happy,” said Madge. “It’s a lovely place, Hogweed. You should see the playground! Every grown-up sprite who sees it wants to play in it.”

That made everyone laugh, and Hogweed nodded in acceptance, and sat quietly stroking Kulsukker’s hair until he fell asleep.
“That’s settled, then,” said Gran. He looked around at them all with great affection. There was no need to watch his words with this team. “But now I have to share some more serious news. You all know that General Vandenesse has retired and gone home to France. The reason he chose to do that is because the Commander dismissed him.”
“Oh!” said Ace, and Gran could see that he’d grasped the implications at once. “You mean you decided to provoke parliament deliberately?”
“Exactly,” said Gran. “Thanks to you, we know that Special Brigade are stockpiling weapons and making traps, right on our doorstep. And we know that if we defy parliament, they’ll have to do something about it, and the chances are that these are the troops they’ll use. If we take provocative action now, we force them to move at a time of our choosing. All through the winter, we’ll have second years going home on leave and new recruits arriving, and we don’t want any of you being hindered by Special Brigade. We want them out of Sogndal, and preferably out of Norway, before winter if possible.”
“D’you think they were going to attack Fjaerland?” asked Stella.
“I don’t think that was their original plan – not enough of them. Petty harassment and blocking people from getting in and out would be more like it. But now – their plans may have changed, and now it’s a possibility. If they do attack, we’ll attempt to repel it, but we must have contingency plans in case we lose. If Fjaerland is lost, the war will have started, and you must take orders then only from our own side, no matter who parliament appoints to senior positions. If the Commander and generals are killed or captured, then take your lead from Pice Inari, Bjørk Kinnekulle and Madge.”
“Killed or captured!” exclaimed Clover. “You’re serious?”
“Captured is more likely. It would suit them better. You can just hear them, can’t you? Regrettable situation… rogue officers have been arrested… new appointments, everything under control.”
“That must not be allowed to happen,” said Fran.
“That’s the spirit, Fran. I think we’ll win – I hope we’ll win, but I won’t lie to you, a lot will depend on which way General Saal turns. To him, the Premier is his boss, and you can’t tell if he’ll disobey a direct order from parliament until the time comes.”
“And all the guards on camp are police,” said Will. “They’ll do what he does, and there’s a fair number of them.”
“And they’re all good fighters. This is what makes victory so uncertain – we can’t count up who’s on our side. But it’s time to put it to the test.”
“When?” said Ace.
“Any day now.”


Envoy Yantra was used to snow, but he preferred it with a hard crust on top. This fresh stuff was terrible for jumping. He kept going through it, and his feet were soaking wet. It was hard work, on this steep slope, to have to keep stopping to tug your feet out. As he toiled up the path from the beach, he kept pausing to wipe the sweat from his brow, even though his escort, two imposing elves from Special Brigade’s elite Wielkopolska Unit, were carrying his overcoat and his attache case for him.
Dreadful journey, he thought. The sooner they close this place down, the better.
At the Western Gatehouse, he was admitted without question, but escorted by police guards as far as the Commander’s office. Gia welcomed him politely, and invited him to address the generals with his message.

Envoy Yantra tried not to sneer at the sight of the Conference Room. This Nordic simplicity couldn’t compete with the splendid pillars of Wielkopolska, but at least this was the best they had to offer. They’d realised it was important. When they were all gathered, he opened his case, took out his papers, and stood up.
“Commander,” he began, “and generals of the army, I am here to require you all to surrender your commands. I am instructed to do this by His Excellency the Premier, on the grounds that you have, in dismissing General Vandenesse, contravened the laws of the realm. If you surrender, no further action will be taken against you. If you do not, orders will be given for your arrest, and I must warn you that this will be accomplished using as much force as is necessary.”
For a moment, there was absolute silence.
“May I have your answers, please?”
Gia rose to her feet and spoke gravely.
“The laws of the realm are those enacted by the queen,” she said. “There is no requirement on the part of any sprite to obey any law enacted by others, except of their own good will. That good will has now come to an end, and for my part, I refuse to surrender my position for breaking an invalid law.”
Then Gran stood up.
“Excellency?” he said. “Since when has that boss of yours been excellent? He’s the First Envoy, no more, no less. I owe him no allegiance, and I refuse.”
“When presented with such a choice, I choose morality over legality,” said General Stalden. “I refuse.”
“Get stuffed, Yantra,” said General Széchenyi. “I refuse, too.”
All eyes turned to General Saal.
“The order is from the Premier himself?” he said.
“It is,” said Envoy Yantra, and wisely said no more. Even he could see that General Saal was weighing things up.
“Letting parliament choose the generals was a bad idea, but we put up with it,” he said slowly. “But now they are sending us bad generals on purpose. They’re trying to hurt the army. Please tell the Premier that I am sorry, but I must refuse, too.”
Gran let out a small sigh of relief, and Gia addressed the envoy.
“You have our answers. You will leave now, please, as quickly as possible. If you delay, you will be removed, and I must warn you that this will be accomplished using as much force as necessary.”
“There will be no need for violence,” said Envoy Yantra silkily. “It is not my place to comment, and I have no wish to linger. I will convey your answers to the Premier.”
Gran politely opened the door for him, and when he’d gone, Gia looked at the others and smiled.
“So, we have taken a stand, and now we must wait and see what they will do. Normal routines must be maintained as far as possible, but we must look to our defences.”


If any of the recruits had imagined that work would stop, and they’d all be doing exciting things like manning barricades, they were sadly mistaken. There were exciting things going on, it was true, but the recruits were not doing them. The gatehouses were being reinforced, but the police guards were doing that. Extra patrols were out, day and night, but that was being competently handled by units from Norway 1, Norway 2 and First Squadron, who’d been recalled to Fjaerland. As far as the training sergeants were concerned, it was business as usual.
“I can’t believe I’ve still got to go to Science,” moaned Peter one day. “If we have to do lessons, wouldn’t extra combat be more useful?”
“Cheer up,” said Clover. “You know we’re doing chemistry today, perhaps we’ll learn to do explosions.”
“Oh, good idea, Clover,” teased Betch. “Blow up camp ourselves, then parliament won’t have to bother!”
“Well, I don’t know,” laughed Clover. “Though you never know what might come in useful. But I do know one thing – if we stop learning, then that’s a little victory for parliament.”


Everyone knew she was right, and there was no more complaining. Will patted Peter on the shoulder and went off to a different hut. He had Science too, but he was supposed to be studying on his own. He read a chapter on Fluid Mechanics, answered the questions, then went to see if General Széchenyi was in her office. She wasn’t, which probably meant no-one had checked for messages today. Will logged on, and almost at once saw a message from Karl. His eyes widened as he read it and he knew he had to get this quickly to Gran. He rushed outside, then stopped to think. This was urgent enough to message direct. He took a deep breath.
General Herdalen, Will Moseley.
Go ahead, Will.
Email from Karl, I’ll summarise. That guard at Otta station spoke to him – long story about how they got talking about us – but the urgent news is, this guard saw loads of elves yesterday. New ones, that he hadn’t seen before, ones who didn’t seem too sure of where they were going.
Did he, now! To find that out, so fast – great work, Will. I’m out with Norway 1, but I think we’ll head back now. Tell the Commander – it’s all right, she knows about the computer – she needs to know about this, fast.


That evening, no-one could complain about lack of action. As soon as they heard that music was cancelled, everyone was alert, and one team after another was summoned and given orders, even the first years.
“They’ve split the night into two watches,” Ace told his team. “We’re all guarding the perimeter fence. Half watch, while half sleep, then swap over. Will, we’ll have to go opposite each other.”
“Rats, I suppose so,” said Will. “And you want to go second, don’t you?”
“If you can bear it, I’d love it,” said Ace. “Just before dawn they’ll come, I reckon.”
“Go on, then,” said Will. “Seeing as it’s you.”

It didn’t surprise Will to find that his half of the team comprised Rose, Clover, Stella, Wayne and Bella. Everyone else wanted to go second in the hope of seeing some action. Will didn’t mind, not at all, because he thought that the chances of the recruits being allowed to do anything exciting were very slim indeed. The officers were using them as lookouts, spread around the entire perimeter, so there’d be no chance of an attack being mounted unobserved from an unexpected direction, but he felt pretty sure that if anyone spotted anything, more experienced troops would quickly take over.
Sergeant Kopec showed Will on a map which section he was responsible for.
“If you see anything suspicious – movement, lights, anything – message me direct and I’ll pass it on. If you’re not sure, tell me anyway. Better a false alarm than missing anything.”


All over camp, there was activity. As Will made his way to his section, where the perimeter fence ran through the forest at the foot of the mountain, he could see fairies constantly overhead, almost invisible in night-flying camouflage of inky blue. Huge ammunition dumps had been prepared near the gatehouses, and a unit from the Goblin Regiment was already standing guard with Norway 1 around the Western Gatehouse. That was the one with the path down to the beach, and it had to be the likeliest direction for the attack to come.
Camp felt strange and different, but it wasn’t just because of all the activity. Over half the lights had been put out, so it was a lot darker than usual. The snow made it quieter, too. It was up to their knees now, because no-one had had time to sweep it, and it was still falling.
When they reached their section, it was completely dark under the trees. They could hear quiet voices nearby, and they knew they had some of Zoza’s team to one side and some of Crocus’ to the other.
“Oh well,” said Will. “We’ll do our bit, but I can’t see anyone attacking from this side. It’s too steep. Sneaking through the forest, possibly, but not here. So get as comfortable as you can. It’s going to be a long, cold, boring night.”
They stamped the snow down, so they were standing on it instead of in it.
“What if they don’t come tonight?” said Bella. “Just because their reinforcements arrived yesterday doesn’t mean it has to be tonight, does it?”
“No, that’s true,” said Will, “but General Herdalen thinks it’ll be tonight. Gut instinct, I think.”

Will was very interested to see that all the fairies accepted that completely as a sound reason. They took instinct very seriously. Clover knew what he was thinking, and smiled.
“He’s an expert, so his instincts are likely to be right,” she explained. “Doesn’t mean I’d trust his instincts on what the human fashions will be next summer.”
“That’s what Sergeant Svir says,” said Bella. “Instinct comes from practical experience, from putting together lots of little clues that you didn’t even know you knew.”
Well, that was an interesting thought, and Will was glad to have something interesting to think about, because it was indeed very boring, staring into the dark and getting colder and colder, and seeing nothing but snow silently falling through the trees.
After a while when they were all lost in their own thoughts, they started talking again, and what the fairies wanted to talk about was how cold they were. Will didn’t see how they could be, they were so well wrapped up, but he sympathised, and let them go one at a time to walk along and see what the other teams were doing nearby. Clover went towards Zoza’s team and came back saying that Dub and Lupa thought they were more likely to see wolves than elves, this side, but that didn’t surprise anyone. Rose went the other way, and reported that Crocus had sent someone off to get flasks of hot tea, and that was much more interesting news, because she shared them out down the line. Getting an unexpected hot drink when you were cold and bored was very cheering, especially when they realised it was only ten o’clock and they still had two hours to go.
“If they don’t come,” said Wayne, “we’ll have to do this all over again tomorrow.”
“Oh, fun,” said Clover.
“If we do, Ace is taking the first watch,” said Will.
After another hour, there was a bit of excitement, as news passed down the line that Gran Starheim, on the edge of the Eastern Forest, had reported some movement. They heard a flurry of activity as someone came to investigate, but nothing else happened and after a while they heard that it had only been an elk.
Somehow, after that, everyone felt more tense, as if it was more likely that something would happen. Will kept a good look out, but he was listening as much as watching, feeling sure that if anything happened, it would be somewhere else. You could almost feel the tension over the camp as if it was something in the air. Then, still nearly half an hour before midnight, Will told the others that Ace was on his way.


“Did you sleep well?” Will asked innocently.
“Like a baby,” grinned Ace.
“He didn’t even lie down,” said Betch. “He’s been looking out of the window the whole time.”
“I was imagining what I’d do if I had to attack such a well-defended place,” said Ace.
“So what would you do?” asked Dan.
“Well, only two good ways in, and stacks of troops defending them, I’d want to get them away from the gates. So I’d try to distract them – an aerial bombardment, I think, probably with fire bombs. That’d start a lot of little fires, and when they rushed off to put them out, I’d pour troops in through the gates to swarm around and surround everybody.”
Just then, a cry of surprise sounded overhead, swiftly followed by a cry of pain. Everyone looked up, and to their utter disbelief they saw fires in glass jars raining down on camp.
“Someone out there thinks like you, Ace!” said Fran.
“Which is very worrying,” said Will. “Bella! Where d’you think you’re going? Haven’t you learned anything? You never abandon your post.”
“Whoops,” said Bella. “Sorry, Will.”
“Halfway through the hours of darkness… a very likely time for us to be changing watch, and in confusion. There is someone very good out there.”
“If the officers want us to move, they’ll say so soon enough,” said Ace. “Until then, let’s keep watching. Elves, get your knives out.”


No-one even thought now about being cold or bored or tired. Everyone stared into the darkness, covering every direction and not forgetting above. But it wasn’t long before a message came from Sergeant Kopec. Ace and Will had both been listening out for it, and they both heard it, as the sergeant sent his message out around the perimeter.
All second years to fire-fighting, team leaders to organise.
“Let’s go,” said Will.
They ran for the centre of camp as fast as they could. The defending troops hadn’t been distracted, and you could hear the clash of fighting now at the gates, but that meant that the fires had had chance to spread. The glass jars had smashed on impact, as they were designed to. The ones that had landed in the snow had gone out, but in the centre of camp, the buildings were close together and a lot of the bombs had fallen onto roofs. There hadn’t been a hard frost yet, and not much snow had stuck to the roofs of warm buildings. Six of them were on fire, and one of them was Signals.

Will looked around wildly, feeling a mounting sense of panic. The second years were arriving thick and fast from all directions, but everyone was rushing about, bumping into each other and talking at the tops of their voices. They needed to organise themselves, fast, but at the moment it was just chaos.
“Calm down!” Ace shouted. “Everyone shut up and stand still! That’s better. Flyers, get the buckets from the huts, take them to the canteens. Goblins, open all the canteens and get some lights on, then start filling the buckets for the flyers. Move!”
Sometimes, Will thought thankfully, being a good leader just meant having the loudest voice.
“Elves, we must make a hosepipe, and fast, what can we use?”
“Wellington boots,” said Will.
“Perfect.”
Everyone who was wearing wellingtons was already pulling them off.
“Thanks,” said Ace, “get some other shoes quickly before you freeze.”
He didn’t need to tell anyone to make the hosepipe because Will was already doing it, with Kiefer and Lauro helping him. Dozens of willing hands helped drag it across to the nearest tap, and from there, they could tackle the roof of General Stalden’s office.
“This won’t help with Signals,” said Will. “The water pressure’s not high enough.”
“The fairies will have to do that from above,” said Ace. “I think Signals need to evacuate though, at least the upstairs. Ross, will you look after the hosepipe while I sort something out?”
“No problem, Ace. As soon as this is safe, we’ll move onto the next one.”


Will stayed with Ace as he tore off to the nearest canteen. Buckets were already being filled, and a chain of goblins was passing them out to the fairies so they could fly up and dowse the fires from above. But there were plenty of spare people.
“Zoza, Ratzo, come with me,” said Ace. “A couple of fairies, too… we need to help evacuate Signals.”
As they’d expected, everything was tense in the pillar room and they didn’t even know they were on fire. Major Inari wouldn’t hear of evacuating the people on duty, but hurriedly agreed with Ace that the people upstairs should come down.
“We can’t possibly leave this room,” he said. “Get that fire out, Ace!”
“We’re working on it,” said Ace.
Sending the fairies to bang on people’s doors and warn them, Ace, Will and the others stood by to help them down the stairs, giving a hand to the frail ones. Most of them went into the pillar room, but they’d be safe enough there. The danger had been that the roof would collapse on them before the fire could be put out.
“Ace!” Droz was waving frantically. “Look!”
“Oh, no.”
Will’s heart sank. The roof of Signals was now blazing. It looked as if it had an attic, used for storing old messages, perhaps, because no matter how fast the fairies poured water on it, the fire still seemed to get bigger, not smaller.
Crocus landed, almost unrecognisable, her face black with smoke.
“We’re losing it,” she said. “It’s getting too hot to get close, and the smoke’s terrible. We have to get more water on there, faster! What can we use, there has to be something that’ll spray that high up?”
“I don’t know,” said Ace, “but stop pouring one bucket at a time, that’s doing no good. Wait till every bucket is full, then all go at once.”
“That’s a good idea!”
Ace ran off with Crocus to help her organise that, but Will stayed where he was. Crocus’ words had triggered something in his mind. Spraying? Where had he seen that? Then he got it. The snowplough! He didn’t waste another second, but rushed off to get it.


It was not Gran Herdalen’s way to lead from behind. Every action he’d ever been in, he’d led from the front, so it really chafed now, that with Fjaerland under attack, he couldn’t be there at the gate with his knife in his hand. He felt sick at the thought of ordering his elves and goblins into a battle he couldn’t fight himself, and he was raging with impotent fury at the thought of Special Brigade setting foot on the mountain. But he had to bear it. He couldn’t go against the Commander’s express orders, and he had to admit she had a point.
“Our arrest is what they want,” she had said. “Once we are taken, they will have won, so we must remain out of sight and under guard.”
They were in the Conference Room, an easily-defendable building, and they knew exactly what was happening because Captain Dolfawr was in there with them, relaying messages at a speed that only a top Signals officer could manage. Outside, half of Norway 2 stood in a ring around the building, with some fairies for air support.
“Still heavy fighting at the Eastern Gatehouse… we’re taking a lot of prisoners, though… Colonel Ormul and his goblins are taking charge of them. Lieutenant Bessheim’s down, injured. All the smaller fires are out, but fire at Signals getting worse. Upper floor has been evacuated.”
“What’s happening at the Western Gate?” asked the Commander.
Captain Dolfawr concentrated hard, then said,
“Colonel Kinnekulle reports a section have broken away from the main attack party. He can’t spare anyone to track them.”
“They’re probably sneaking around the perimeter. Tell Sergeant Kopec to warn the first years to observe, only! No heroics. They’ve only just got their knives. Gran, what reserves have you got?”
“The rest of Norway 2. Collen, tell Modřín Kopec to send for them as soon as he knows the position of the split-off section.”
“Message on its way.”

There was a long and anxious wait then. News that the gates were still holding didn’t seem quite as urgent as before. What everyone wanted to know was where that split-off section was. Gran prowled around, unable to keep still, until Captain Dolfawr’s shout broke the silence.
“Modřín’s had contact – first years report movement – Gil’s team.”
Gran grabbed a plan of camp and looked to see exactly where the first year Scottish team had been posted.
“Got them,” he said. “Southern Forest.”
He bit his lip in worry, but he knew that Sergeant Kopec would be messaging sound advice. It was a worryingly long time before they heard any more. Gran and Gia looked at each other in agony. The thought of any first years being tempted into fighting was almost too hard to bear. When they did hear more, it was very bad news indeed.
“Modřín reports a message from Phil Royden – heard scuffles, heard screams.”
Gran’s heart was banging in his chest. Phil had been next to Gil, and he had a nasty feeling that he knew what had happened.
“Have they tried to fight?” worried Nella Stalden.
“I don’t think so,” said Gran. “Too quick, too quiet.”
“Oh, damn!” said Dizzy. “Hostages!”
Gia didn’t waste a second on speculation.
“Modřín to pull all first years back and count them,” she ordered. “I want to know at once who’s missing.”
After another agonising wait, the concern on Captain Dolfawr’s own face was plain as he reported.
“Exactly five missing, all from the Scottish team, all fairies.”
“Who can we spare?” said Gia.
“All reserves used,” said Gran. “Shall we pull some off the gates?”
“No,” said General Saal. “We must send the troops guarding this building. The lives of little first years are more important than ours.”
“Agreed,” said Gia. “Open the door.”

Inula Saal and Gran reached up to draw back heavy bolts and pulled the door open. Gia stepped outside and opened her mouth to give the order to leave at once and rescue the missing first years, but no words came out. Norway 2 were staring uneasily, unsure what to do, at a party approaching at a slow pace. Across the dark lawns around the fountain came sixteen of Special Brigade, and the five missing first years. And each first year had a knife at her throat.


Just hoping he was doing the right thing, Will floundered through the snow to the workshops, then behind them to the garage where they’d left the snowplough. He saw the guards as he ran past the Conference Room, but there was no-one else around, and near the workshops there was hardly any light. He fumbled with the doors, desperately kicking snow aside as he tried to pull them open, his mind full of misgivings. Would there be enough petrol left? What if the engine wouldn’t start? He climbed up into the cab.
“Oh, please start,” he muttered, his teeth chattering with cold. “Please, please start!”
He turned the key in the ignition.
It didn’t start the first time, but it did make some promising noises, and Will was feeling slightly more hopeful as he tried again. The second time, the engine caught and roared into life and Will’s spirits leapt with happiness. He flicked on the lights, and a powerful white beam lit up the snow outside the door. He put his foot down and drove the machine out, then picked up speed as he drove behind the huts and out onto the path. In his mind, he was planning his route… where the snowplough would fit through, and where the snow would lie thickest so there’d be plenty to pick up.
Ace! Clear the footpath between Signals and the library, I’m coming through with the snowplough.
Oh! Right, I’m onto it…

Will didn’t go past the Conference Room on his way back, but across the playing field behind the gym. From his high vantage point, he could see a lot of worrying activity. Through the shadows, groups were moving, and he couldn’t always see who they were. Everyone seemed to be moving towards the Conference Room, where the generals were, and that didn’t seem like a good thing.
He bit his lip and made himself concentrate on what he was doing. Carefully, he crossed the bridge over the stream, and as he came past General Stalden’s office, a great cheer went up from the second years, that he could hear even over the noise of the engine. With his head turned half over his shoulder, he watched the way the blown snow was falling. He had to get in closer… he changed gear, slowed down, and then curved in as close as he could get to the walls of Signals.

The fairies’ valiant efforts had done a lot of good. He could see some of them pouring water onto the roof of the Great Hall, soaking it so no stray spark would set it alight. Signals looked less bad than before, but it was still burning. If only he could finish it off, they could go and see what was happening elsewhere.
The snow soared up beautifully. It was wonderful to watch it going just where he wanted it to, but at first it didn’t seem to be making much difference. He drove around in a tight circle, picking up more snow, then came in close again, and this time, he saw that there was only smoke left. The flames had gone out, and soon after that, the thick black smoke died away too. Black fragments began to fall all around them, littering the churned-up snow. The danger was over.


Beautiful work, Will! Great idea to get the snowplough.
Thanks, Ace. What else is going on, though?
By then, he’d turned the engine off and jumped down, and he could see Ace running over towards him. They weren’t the only ones who’d seen that something was happening, and everyone crowded round.
“Something’s up,” said Ace. “Keep together, and move slowly and quietly. There may be something we can do to help.”
“That’s not what we were told to do!” said Crocus. “We should stay here and await further orders.”
“Absolutely right, Crocus. You do that. Meanwhile, Will and I are going to investigate, and anyone who wants to can come with us.”
“Gut instinct,” Will explained. “Sometimes it’s right to trust it.”

A large group of them swarmed silently past the library, to find themselves at the back of a crowd. The strange thing was, there seemed to be groups of army sprites, and groups of Special Brigade, but no-one was moving.
“Damn,” said Will, “why are we so small? I can’t see a thing!”
“Roof,” said Ace.
“Good idea.”

Ace and Will climbed slowly and quietly onto the library roof, then stared with horror at the frightening scene before them. Light was shining out of the open door of the Conference Room and spilling on the snow, lighting up the small figure of the Commander. She was standing undaunted in front of a sturdy elf with short bristly black hair. She was flanked by her four generals, an imp, a fairy, a goblin and an elf, all standing equally tall and unafraid.
“That’s Major Diolkos! And he’s got hostages!”
“One of them is Maig,” said Will.
Behind Major Diolkos stood five of his elves, each with a knife at the throat of a Scottish fairy. It was all too clear now why the fighting had stopped, and why everyone, on both sides, was keeping still.
“You surrender?” said Major Diolkos.
“As soon as those recruits are released unharmed, we surrender,” said the Commander.
“Oh, no,” said the major. “I don’t trust you that much. They’ll be released unharmed, yes, but not until you five are bound and blindfolded and on the beach.”
“Agreed,” said the Commander.
“Don’t do it, ma’am!” shouted Maig. “Not for us!”

Will would rarely have claimed to know just how anyone else was feeling, but right then, looking at the Commander’s face, he knew exactly. Those brave words had gone right to her heart.
“Spirit like that is why you will never win in the end,” she said to Major Diolkos, as she held out her hands to be tied.

No-one dared to move as the generals were tied and lined up. In front of each of them was one of the fairies and her captor, and behind each of them was another elf with knife drawn.
“What can we do!” said Will.
“We have to do something,” said Ace, “but we have to be careful. They can still message, and Gran might have a plan. I’ll try and reach him.”
Gran, it’s Ace, d’you need a diversion?
Yes, what’ve you got? Was that the snowplough I heard earlier?
That’s right, want us to bring it round?
Fast as you can. Approach from the west, and soak the whole column. Nothing else, leave the rest to me.
On our way, said Ace.


What followed was held up in later years as a masterclass in messaging. Crisp, concise orders went through at phenomenal speed, and were obeyed to the letter. Gran started it off.
Gia, got a diversion. Can you call up fairies to swoop down and rescue the captives when the snow hits?
When the snow hits, got it.
As she began to send out her orders, Gran was sending messages to the other generals too, and they in turn sent out orders of their own, all while walking through thick snow with their eyes covered and their hands tied. It was only two minutes later when all the messages were sent and received, and dozens of army sprites were poised for action.

All the Special Brigade troops had moved to surround the slowly-moving column, with the ones at the back being particularly careful, almost walking backwards, and ready to attack if anyone tried anything. They were watching the other officers very closely, and none of them dared to risk any movement. But no-one noticed two small recruits silently slipping down from the library roof and running back towards the snowplough.
Everyone heard the engine start. Special Brigade looked round warily, but they’d heard that noise earlier and nothing had happened.
“What’s that?” said Major Diolkos suspiciously. “Keep moving!”
“It’s only the generator,” said the Commander, with just the right tone of wearied exasperation. “Honestly, don’t you understand anything?”
It was clear that none of them knew exactly what a generator was, or what it looked like, because as the snowplough’s lights came into view, and the noise of the engine drew nearer and nearer, at first they kept moving.


Ace and Will were inundated with questions as soon as they got back to Signals, from Crocus and everyone else who’d stayed behind.
“No time!” said Ace, swinging himself up into the cab as Will started the engine. “Tell you later!”
Will drove behind the Great Hall, to keep out of sight, and behind the Officers’ Mess, then turned left back onto the main footpath, just as the column came into sight. He picked up speed, and drove through the deepest snow he could see. They were still coming forward, and even when he got quite close, all they did was stare. By the time they realised it was a diversion, it was too late.
He carried on driving, just the right distance away to make the snow fall exactly where he wanted it to. Ace was standing in the open doorway, ready to jump out and help if he was needed, and shouting encouragement to Will.
Will’s aim was good. Not able to miss the army sprites, he soaked everyone, and as he found out later, it was just as well he did, because Gran had chosen that as the signal for action. However, he didn’t know that at the time, so when he’d gone past the column, and spun the wheel so the snowplough turned right round, all he could do was watch with amazement, with the smile on his face growing wider by the second.

The elves with the knives only wavered for an instant when they were suddenly drenched with a freezing shower of powdery snow. But it was enough. With breathtaking speed, five fairies swooped down in free-fall and snatched up the first years. The first years had been ready for it, and helped their rescuers by flying at once, away from the column. Seconds later, five officers ran and freed the generals, as Norway 2 piled into the attack against the elves in the column. They were overpowered before the fairies were ten beats away. At that, all the army sprites started cheering, and turned on the rest of Special Brigade, who were now leaderless and seriously outnumbered. Colonel Ormul led the police guards forward, well-supplied with ropes and blindfolds. Ace ran to join in, but Will didn’t. He could see he wasn’t needed, for they’d already won. He just sat watching, laughing in glorious disbelief, then patted the snowplough lovingly.
“Major Teplou was right about you,” he told it. “He said your time would come.”


After so much excitement and effort, the only thought on most people’s minds was how thirsty they were. While the Commander and generals were taking reports and giving orders about the safe bestowal of the prisoners, the recruits got the fires lit in the canteens. When the Commander came in to see them, they cheered her. She gladly accepted a hot drink, and perched on the edge of a table.
“I’ve been so impressed tonight,” she said. “A perfect mix of obeying orders and sensible initiative. You were terrific, all of you. Well done.”
When Gran came in, they cheered him too and he waved back, looking happier than anyone had ever seen him. He hugged Ace and Will, shook hands with all the sootiest fairies, drank a huge mug of tea, then went to talk to Lieutenant Bessheim, who had his arm in a sling. When he heard how he’d been injured, Gran praised his leadership and courage and promoted him to captain on the spot.
Gia spoke to Maig and the other Scottish fairies, checking they were all right and thanking them for being so brave. She thanked the sergeants too, who’d pulled everything together.
“This might be quite difficult,” she smiled, “but see if you can get the recruits to go to bed, will you?”
“Don’t you worry, ma’am,” said Sergeant Camilo. “We’ll just mention how much work there’ll be to do in the morning.”


After that, she went to Signals to see how things were there. The place stank of smoke and was full of water and burnt paper. The upper floor was half-destroyed and the roof had gone completely, but no-one had been hurt and the night shift was working on with unflappable serenity. She spoke to Madge, who was helping organise temporary quarters for the Signals sprites, then quietly asked Pice Inari to make sure that tonight’s news went out to every colony in the realm.
“With pleasure, ma’am,” he said with quiet relish.
For another hour, Gia was talking to people, but once everyone was settled, even Gran, she spread her wings and flew all over camp, making sure all was well. All the lights were glowing again, the snow was gently falling, and Fjaerland was at peace. Gia smiled, and looked east towards the Tree.
“Thank you,” she whispered, then went home to her bed.


By morning, fresh snow had covered all the ground, and even around the gates there was no sign of the heavy fighting that had gone on. The snowplough was not in its garage, but parked on the lawn next to the Concourse, where people kept going to pat it, as if it had been one of the heroes of the night.
Will couldn’t help grinning at the thought of it. For once, he’d thought fast and done a useful thing, and technology had come to the rescue. Even Crocus had admitted it had done a good job. But the sergeants had been right about how much work they’d have to do. Several buildings needed new roofs, and the first years were tackling that. The second years were carrying away box after carefully-labelled box of personal possessions from the Signals officers’ quarters, and taking them to the workshops. It was very busy in Signals just now. Messages were coming in from all over the realm, and every officer was on duty. Sergeant Svir had decided that they could help by mending all the burnt and water-damaged things, and have a useful Transforming lesson at the same time.

“Repair is often more difficult than starting from scratch,” she told them. “Identify the object, and identify the materials from which it is made. Then shrink the damage away, while restoring the cells from undamaged edges.”
It certainly was good practice, Will thought, and he was glad they could help, but it was hard work. Sergeant Svir wouldn’t let them pick and choose just the things they were good at, and Will could see the sense in that and bravely tackled fabrics of all kinds until he met his match in a pair of antique lace curtains. Sergeant Svir took pity on him then and let him swap with Margherita, who was looking equally terrified by a cuckoo clock.
When it was all done, everything had to be carried back and placed in the right rooms. They stepped over the legs of the quarter-master’s team, who were making new beds and cupboards, and left the things where they could. It was untidy, but it was a start.
“Good day’s work,” said Sergeant Svir approvingly. “Get yourselves off to the mess – there’s beer tonight, a little thank you for you all – but before you go, someone report to Major Inari. There’s a stack of messages come through for you all, and it’ll save him delivering them.”

Ross and Alnus collected them, and once the music was over they delivered them by standing on a table and calling names out, then skimming the yellow Signals envelopes through the air. The Moseleys weren’t expecting anything, since there was only Aesculus at home, and he’d be more likely to send an email, so Ace was very surprised when Ross sent a message flying across to him. He jumped up to catch it, and looked with happiness at his own name on the front.
“Open it!” said Clover. “What does it say?”
“Why am I missing all the fun?” Ace read out loud. “Hear you and Will did some great fire-fighting. Keep the flag flying, shrimp.”
“Ace Foxfield,” said Will. “Brilliant. That means they’ve sent the news out to the units in the field, too.”
“With lots of details, by the sound of it,” said Fran. “They really want everyone to know what parliament did, don’t they?”
“It’s time,” said Ace. “You can feel it, can’t you? They’ve gone too far this time.”
“Parliament aren’t going to sit back and take it, though,” said Dan. “They’ll do something nasty, I’ll bet.”
“Not yet, they won’t,” chuckled Hogweed. “They’ll wait till this lot get back to Poland, and that’s going to take a long time.”
“Why, what are they going to do with them? What’ve you heard, Hogweed?” shouted Clover across the din.
“It was when you were all mending things,” said Hogweed. “I was carrying new wood for the roofs, and I heard that goblin officer, Colonel Ormul, telling someone. Him and his unit came here with an Ally, in the back of a lorry, and they’re going back the same way and taking the prisoners with them. They’ll go by boat to Bergen to meet the lorry, then they’ll just offload them in the middle of Bucharest. They’ll have to find their own way back to Poland!”
“Oh, that’s clever,” laughed Ace. “They’ll be able to manage it – they’re good troops, you could see that – but it’ll take them ages.”
“They won’t be causing trouble round here again in a hurry,” said Rose with satisfaction. “Serves them right.”

Will didn’t say anything, but that was only because he was seeing the pattern in his mind. It didn’t matter what parliament did next. The objectives had been to resist the arrest of the generals and clear the enemy out of Sognfjord, and that was what they’d achieved. And now they were spreading the news, and this avalanche of messages was the proof that the indignation was immense. All over the realm, there’d be young sprites deciding to set out for Norway, and now, the paths and lake crossings were free from danger. Next year’s intake was likely to be huge.


Since the recruits’ mess had been doubled in size from one circle to two, the second years had usually used one half and the first years the other. It wasn’t working out that way tonight. The most serious of the Loyalists had passed uneasily through the riotous party that was starting in the first circle. They didn’t refuse the beer – all of them were just as glad as anyone else that Fjaerland hadn’t been destroyed by fire – but they weren’t sure they should be celebrating parliament’s humiliation, so they passed through to the second circle. There, they sat in small groups, talking brightly about anything but the attack, or talking earnestly about whether the Commander had been right to be so provocative.

In the first circle, they had no such qualms, and it was getting louder and louder. Will was feeling blissfully happy, just drunk enough to put a smile on his face. He was sprawling on a couch with his head leaning against Ace’s knee, watching Maig and her friends doing some sort of Scottish dance in mid-air. That inspired the imps to start dancing. They dragged some furniture out of the way and made a circle, and Will could do nothing but watch, amazed. Their feet were moving so fast, the rhythm of it was electrifying. He remembered General Herdalen telling him that imps didn’t have music, but were good dancers, but Will had never realised how true that was until now.
They didn’t need music. They were making their own music with their hands and feet, and they were getting faster and faster. Everyone was so awestruck, no-one noticed General Széchenyi coming in.
They should have stood up for her, but it obviously didn’t bother her at all when they didn’t. Her face lit up, and she simply joined in with the dance, foot-stamping and clapping with the best of them. It was mesmerising. The imps were watching each other as they danced, and it showed how alike they were in nature. For once, you could see all the things that showed that they weren’t fairies. Their short, stiff wings were tightly folded out of the way, and their fierce, clever faces were grinning with delight. Their bright streaks, moving so fast, seemed to ripple through the air like little flames, and they were concentrating completely on what they were doing. Like goblins, they never wasted time agonising over things. They lived in the moment, and right now, every fibre of their minds and bodies was dancing, and it was thrilling to watch.

When they stopped, everyone whistled and cheered, clapping them enthusiastically. General Széchenyi banged fists with the other imps, then, with the same sturdy concentration, remembered what she’d come for, and called for Droz.
“Here I am, ma’am,” he said.
“Ah, good. I’ve just come from a meeting of the army council. I thought you’d like to know – last night’s news provoked a break-out in a refugee camp. The rebellion has started – in Croatia.”
Droz looked as if he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The day he’d been longing for nearly all his life had come at last.
“I am so proud,” he got out, “of my country.”
“To Croatia!” shouted Kes, raising his glass, and everyone cheerfully toasted the rebels.
Droz raised his glass too, but he kept on looking at General Széchenyi. Then he gave her the salute, and she returned it. At that, Droz was so overcome he had to sit down and hide his face.
“Does that mean the war’s started, ma’am?” asked Sizzle.
“No,” the general replied gravely. “There is still time for parliament to heed the warning. If they do not, the rebellion will spread, and they will realise they are losing control. At that point, they may come to their senses, and listen, or they may fight. It is when they take up arms against their own people that the war will have started.”
She looked round at the serious faces, and spoke more briskly and cheerfully.
“The response to the latest news has been overwhelming, and there’s no excuse any more for even the sleepiest colony not to know what’s going on. A decision’s been made, to inform the rest of the Allies, the ones whose friends are civilians. Will, I need you, we’ve got work to do.”
“If I’m needed, here I am,” said Will, getting smartly to his feet.
“Can I come too?” said Ace.
“Of course,” said the general, “and Will, you’d better bring your successor, whoever he or she is.”
“Good idea, ma’am,” said Will. “Come on, Dale.”
Dale rose to his feet, looking as if he would burst with pride and happiness, while behind him, everyone had stunned expressions. ‘Dale?’ they were mouthing at one another.
When they’d gone, Betch leaned back with his arms behind his head, smiling with contentment.
“Will says he’s brilliant at it,” he said. “Remembers what he’s been told, does it in the right order, totally methodical and unbeatable concentration.” He grinned at everyone, and perhaps most at the other Knightwoods. “Told you he wasn’t stupid.”


By midnight, an email had gone off to David with a new list of names and addresses, more Allies to contact, to bring into the tight-knit network he was building around his website. General Széchenyi and Dale had got to know each other, and it was clear that each of them had been impressed. Will felt he was leaving the computer in safe hands, and that was good. Then Ace and Dale wanted to go back to the party, but Will said he was too tired.
“Is this November sort of tiredness?” Ace asked sympathetically.
“Yeah. I know I’ll be able to sleep once graduation’s over, but until then, I have to stay sharp. You two go, and tell the others what we’ve been doing. Me, I need to sleep.”

Will found the sight of the silent hut strangely moving. It had been home for nearly two years now. Not very long, really, but he knew he’d remember it for the rest of his life. The sound of raindrops pattering on the turf roof… the way the summer sunlight would shine in under the door. Betch’s white clothes box, Gran Starheim’s neat row of spare boots, even the dusty bottles under Olm’s bunk… he knew he’d miss them all.
He turned to their bunk and smoothed Ace’s pillow. Then he pulled off his boots and a couple of layers of clothing, and sat down on his own bunk. Still there, pinned to the wall, a little faded now, a drawing of Aesculus by David, and a picture of Iron Maiden cut out from Metal Hammer magazine. Will reached out to touch them, smiling fondly. But it was far too cold to sit around for long, so he lay down and pulled the covers right up to his chin.
It’s a second home, he thought drowsily, before he fell asleep. No wonder everyone comes back whenever they can.


There were always visitors at Fjaerland for Graduation Night. This year, with such a small number of recruits graduating, they’d been expecting fewer visitors than usual. It soon became clear than exactly the opposite was happening. Senior sprites came not just from nearby Starheim, but distant Ferrol, from Knightwood in England and from Berounka in the Czech Republic. And they weren’t the only ones. Visitors were arriving from colonies no-one had heard from for years, and there weren’t just colonels arriving, but officers of every rank, and every off-duty unit. It was bigger than Midsummer, even, and you couldn’t put people up in tents in the middle of winter.
Gia walked around camp with the quarter-master, and gave orders for a whole new row of huts to be built between the second years’ huts and the footpath.
“The army is coming home,” she said, “and we must have room for everyone.”
“Very good, ma’am,” said the quarter-master. “I think it’s a good idea. That way, we’ll have twice the space ready for the new first years in February, and if all I hear is true, we’re going to need it.”
“I think you’re right,” smiled Gia. “The tide has turned, at last.”