Nell Nettlewing stood on a hummock of springy moss in the middle of Mosslight Fen, one claw tucked tight against the little blue ribbon tied to her leg. The air smelled of rain on mud and crushed mint, and the glowing mushrooms under the cattails made soft blue-green spots of light along the dark water.
She had promised Juniper Jell and Mara Mudbuckle she would help them find the safest way across the fen before dusk. That was why the three friends were together, peering down at the same patch of mud.
At first it had only looked like a bump. Then it twitched. Now a deep bubble was rising from underneath, bigger and bigger, until the mud around it shivered in rings. Juniper bounced once, then froze with her tiny orange scarf held close. Mara planted her wet paws wide apart and squinted at it like it ought to explain itself.
Nell wanted to do the right thing. That was the trouble. Poke it? Listen to it? Tell everyone to step back? The bubble swelled again, and a small pop of mud ticked onto her beak.
Juniper whispered, “It’s growing.”
Mara sniffed. “Or breathing.”
The bubble gave a long, wet shiver, and the mud around it trembled so hard that the moss under Nell’s feet quivered too. This was no tiny oddity anymore. Nell could feel her friends watching her, waiting for her to decide whether to go closer or back away. The bubble kept rising, and the fen seemed to hold its breath with it.
What happens next?
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