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Xanth's face was ashen white; his voice, barely more than a whisper.
    ‘It'll be all right, Xanth,’ said Magda. ‘Rook and I will speak up for you in the Free Glades, won't we, Rook?’
    Rook nodded earnestly.
    ‘Now, come and see me off,’ she said, trying to sound cheerful.
    ‘I'll stay here,’ said Xanth. ‘You go, Rook. I'll finish digging the cart out.’
    Magda gave him another hug, then turned to Rook. ‘Here goes,’ she said, and strode off after the Captain of the Librarian Knights.
    Rook followed them through the gathering crowds, the buzzing hum of excitement in the air growing louder as they neared the tethering-posts. Heavy stakes had been driven down into the mud and the skycraft lashed securely to them. Now they were being untied, and the great flocks of skycraft were bobbing about in the early-morning air. Two squadrons were already prepared, with scores of young librarian knights seated astride their skycraft and waiting for the signal to depart.
    Rook watched Magda climb onto her Woodmoth , unfurl the loft and nether-sails, realign the balance-weights and unhitch the flight-ropes. At the sight of her, he felt a heavy weight pressing down on his chest, turning to a dull ache. He swallowed hard, but the pain remained. Beyond the excited crowd he spotted Varis Lodd and the Professors of Light and Darkness, the three of them already hovering in the air, one at the head of each squadron.
    As the last librarian knight climbed aboard his skycraft, Varis Lodd flew up higher, bringing the Windhawk round. She raised an arm and gave a signal.
    Free Glades Flight, depart , she motioned in the signalled language of the librarian knights.
    At her command, and as silently as snowbirds, some three hundred or so skycraft soared up into the sky as one. They hovered expertly overhead, securing and setting their sails, and adjusting the flight-weights thathung beneath each craft like jewelled tails.

    Twilight Woods Flight, depart. The Professor of Darkness silently gave the command, and the three hundred hovering craft were joined by three hundred more.
    Eastern Roost Flight, depart. It was the Professor of Light's turn to give the signal; a right arm crossed to the left shoulder, three fingers outstretched. The air seemed to tremble as the squadron of librarian knights under his command – including Magda herself – rose up from the ground.
    Like a vast and silent array of exquisite insects, nine hundred skycraft filled the sky above Rook's head.
    ‘Oh, Stormhornet ,’ he murmured, his heart breaking. ‘How I miss you.’
    A sudden gust of wind seemed to galvanize the sky-craft as, one by one, their sails filled like blossoming flowers and they moved off.

    Rook followed their path, his mouth dry, his chest aching, as the skycraft caught the stronger currents high in the sky and began to gather speed. All around him cheers went up as the Undertowners and librarians saluted the librarian knights.
    But as the skycraft grew ever more distant, the cheers fell away and the mood of the crowd changed. They were on their own now, out here in the vast muddy wilderness. Rook sighed. He felt the same.
    Of course, he knew that the skycraft would be no use in the swirling, howling winds of the Edgelands that awaited them. He knew it made sense for the librarian knights to go on ahead to scout for danger and bring help from the Free Glades. He knew they all planned to meet up again at the Ironwood Stands. He knew all of this – but still, he couldn't shake off the feeling of having been abandoned.
    In the distance, high above the Twilight Woods, the vast flock split up into three; one section swooping off to the north, one to the south, and the third continuing due west in the direction of the Deepwoods. Soon they were lost from view and, with a low murmur, the crowd began to disperse.
    Rook turned and made his way back to Xanth as, all through the encampment, the Undertowners began to prepare for the long march ahead. From