For a time, a golden time all was wonder and joy. The family thrived in their new home, growing confident and playful. They made their own improvements to the Wonderful Place, carrying in soft things from outside to make their sleeping nests more comfortable, organizing their treasures in ways that pleased them. Pappy Jack made tools for them, fashioned from the magical metal that held its edge far better than stone—digging-striking-sticks that made hunting land-prawns almost too easy.
The forest around them seemed to approve. The streams ran clear, the trees whispered contentedly in the breeze, and the small folk felt, for the first time in their collective memory, truly safe.
But safety is an illusion in a world where not all Tall Ones are kind.
Other giants began to come to the Wonderful Place. Some, like the one called Ben and the one called Gerd, brought the same gentleness that Pappy Jack showed. But others came with a different energy, one that made the small folk's fur stand on end with instinctive warning. There was the one whose name was Kellogg, whose eyes were hard and whose movements were sharp with suppressed anger. There was another called Mallin, who looked at the small folk not with wonder or love, but with the cold assessment of one viewing mere things.
The small folk, with their ancient wisdom born of surviving in a dangerous forest, recognized predators in many forms. And these were predators of a kind they had never encountered—ones who did not kill for food or defense, but for reasons the forest could never comprehend.
On the terrible day when darkness came, the small folk were playing near the living area, happy and unsuspecting. They had grown used to the comings and goings of various Tall Ones. But this day brought new ones, ones who grabbed them roughly, who stuffed them into suffocating darkness—bags that blocked out the light and made breathing difficult.
The terror was beyond anything they had known. In the forest, danger at least had a face you could recognize—fangs, claws, beating wings. But this was incomprehensible, a violation of the trust they had learned to place in the Tall Ones. Where was Pappy Jack? Why didn't he stop this?
They were taken to a place of harsh lights and hard surfaces, a place that smelled of chemicals and fear. They were separated, each put into a cage—another incomprehensible concept. The forest had no cages. Freedom of movement was as essential to their being as breathing.
But Seeker—Little Fuzzy, as the Tall Ones called him now—had not become the first of his kind to bridge two worlds by accepting defeat easily. He had been through too much, learned too much. While the others panicked and struggled, he examined his prison with the same systematic curiosity he had once applied to exploring the Wonderful Place.
The cage was made of flexible woven strands, held together at the top by metal fixtures that could be unfastened. He had watched Pappy Jack work with such fixtures, had learned the principle of threads that twisted one way to tighten, another to loosen. He had the tool he had found that first day, the sharp metal stick that Pappy Jack had later improved upon. And he had the intelligence that had led him to Pappy Jack in the first place.
But most of all, they learned that the Tall One called Pappy Jack loved them, and they loved him in return. It was a love that transcended species, that bridged the gap between the forest folk and the builders of machines, that would soon be tested in ways none of them could imagine.
Working in the darkness, while the others whimpered in fear, Little Fuzzy applied reason to the problem. The strands of the cage could be cut. The fastenings could be loosed. And once he was free, he could free the others.
It took time—time measured in racing heartbeats and shallow breaths. But eventually, he was through. He freed Mamma Fuzzy first, then the others in quick succession. They gathered in the strange room, their relief at being together again palpable, but their situation was still desperate. They were trapped in this place of Tall Ones who meant them harm.
Seeker led them to exploration again, finding the door, understanding how its handle worked. They emerged into a larger space filled with strange objects and the preserved bodies of creatures mounted as if they were still alive—a horror that made the small folk cluster together in fright.
They found objects from the outside world, things left by careless Tall Ones. Soft coverings that could provide warmth. A bright-colored container that could carry small treasures. These they gathered, for even in their fear, they were still creatures of the forest, where survival meant being prepared.
And then they found the way out—another door, this one leading to the outside world. Freedom beckoned, but it was freedom into a strange, vast place of hard surfaces and too many scents and sounds. This was not their forest. This was the human city of Mallorysport, as alien to them as another planet.