Togg's Arc

Chapter 6 of 8

The garlands hung thick and purple above, but the pavilion floor was empty. No table. No bench. Grampy and Grans needed a place to sit, and the light through the doorway had gone gold. Togg counted the daylight left in his head. Not much. He grabbed a broad walnut plank Jimothy had dragged in earlier and set his shoulder against it. The raccoon pushed from below. Together they wrestled the wide table upright, then the long bench beside it. The wood settled with a solid thud. Togg stepped back, chest heaving. A table stood where nothing had stood before. But a bare table looked plain. Togg remembered the woven grass centerpiece he'd braided that morning, green and gold strands twisted into a round basket. He set it dead center. Then he ran outside, gathered pink and red petals in both paws, and scattered them across the tabletop. They drifted down and settled soft, a loose cluster around the basket. The pavilion looked ready now. A real party place, waiting for two gnomes who knew nothing of it. Then Togg saw the sky. Dusk. He was far from Grampy's shed, and walking home would eat the last of the light. He needed a faster way. Movement near a patch of clover caught his eye. A round dark shape sat there, chewing. Moe Tunnelworth, the messenger mole. Moe ran tunnels between the gnomes, quiet and fast, always hungry, always chewing something. "Moe," Togg said, hurrying over. "You've got a tunnel that runs near the shed. Let me use it. I have to beat the dark." Moe blinked twice. He swallowed a clover flower whole. "Tunnel's mine," he said. "There's a price." Togg groaned. He knew the price. "Worms. How many?" "Enough," said Moe, and turned back to his clover. Togg bolted for the pond. He plunged both paws into the cold mud at the edge and dug. Worms writhed up, slick and tangled. He grabbed a fat handful, mud dripping, and raced back. He dropped the wriggling pile in front of Moe. The mole nosed it once, counted with his snout, and nodded. "Fair," Moe said. "Follow." He dropped into the dark and Togg scrambled after him. The tunnel was black and close and warm. Togg ran through it, mind already on tomorrow. Tables done. Garlands done. In the morning he'd fetch the last small things and it would all be perfect for Grampy. He came up through a gap near the shed just as the last light died. He slipped through the round green door. Inside, someone breathed slow and even. Togg froze. Delphine lay curled on the shed floor, fast asleep, one arm flung over a basket. She wasn't supposed to be here. Togg stood in the dark, worm-mud still on his paws, and stared. Whatever she'd come to tell him would have to wait until she woke.