Ravenspell Book 2: The Wizard of Ooze by David Farland Page B

as she and Ben dragged their weary tails toward a large burrow up among the rocks, stopping only momentarily to give the line a jerk, thus pulling Bushmaster and Thorn along.
    “Six hours,” Ben said. “You and Thorn have been in a trance all afternoon. It wasn’t until the storm kicked up that the sound began to blow away.”
    Amber could hardly believe it. She had been fighting poor Ben for hours.
    He’s saved my life once again, she thought dully.
    Wearily, she staggered over a hay pile and hesitated at the mouth of a large hole. Ben kept his paws over her ears the whole way.
    She could smell some animal inside the hole. Not a rat or a mouse, something more like a vole. The burrow smelled clean and healthy, like sweet hay. More importantly, here it was utterly silent. The stones and dirt protected her in a way that her little helmet could not.
    “In here,” she said, climbing into the mouth of the burrow. Then she, Ben, and Bushmaster pulled on the fishing line until they hauled Thorn safely inside.
    Once inside, young Thorn collapsed on the ground and just lay there panting.
    “What kind of burrow is this?” Amber asked.
    Bushmaster shook his head wearily, unable to answer.
    Outside the wind screamed and howled as it made its way up the canyon. Amber crawled deeper into the burrow, and found that the floor and walls, everything, was lined with sweet-smelling herbs. The grass and leaves beneath her feet were springy and comfortable.
    The walls were all stone, and it could have been cold and bitter here, but mountain grasses and dried flowers stuffed into every nook and cranny provided insulation from the weather outside. Just as importantly, the vegetation was all slowly rotting, and the bacteria growing inside gave off its own heat so that the little burrow was far warmer than Amber would have thought possible.
    The grasses still had seeds in them, and there were flowers, dried fungus, sweet-smelling tubers, savory bark, and dried berries all about. Crevices into the rock led deeper into the hillside, into other tunnels, and from the smell of them, they were also lined with food and insulation.
    We’ve found a fortress, Amber realized, staring about in wonder. But she couldn’t smell an occupant. It seemed that the owner had abandoned the place within the past few weeks.
    In her mind’s eye, Amber recalled the mice that were marching up over the ice, and shook her head in sadness. They were in the storm still, marching blindly. They were all as good as dead.
    Ben and the others followed Amber into the burrow. Poor Thorn dropped wearily onto the soft fodder and fell asleep. Bushmaster nibbled at a stalk of wild watercress but was too tired to eat much, and soon just lay with his eyes closed.
    Ben said softly, “We should eat—keep up our strength,” and found himself some dried flowers to eat. Amber picked at some seeds, but she felt horrible about what she had done and soon gave up.
    Ben has saved my life twice now, she thought. I owe him more than I can ever repay.
    She looked at Ben, and gratitude welled up inside. “You heard the wormsong, didn’t you?”
    Ben nodded.
    “But it didn’t pull you?”
    “It did,” Ben said. “But I guess that maybe I’m still more human than mouse. I heard the song, but it didn’t work on me. I just thought to myself that the Wizard of Ooze could use a few voice lessons. He was worse than some of those folks on American Idol. ”
    Amber nodded.
    Ben nuzzled up against her for warmth, and muttered, “One of us should stay awake and keep guard.” But he dropped off to sleep almost before he finished the sentence.
    Amber lay for a moment, thinking. From so deep in the burrow, she couldn’t even hear the wind outside. She had nothing to fear from the wormsong. Instead, the cozy burrow, so warm and inviting, seemed to lull her. The light was failing, and the coming shadows invited her to sleep.
    But somehow, Amber didn’t trust that temptation.
    We could live in this