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Oriole and Robin shook their heads and smiled.

"No, dear. We're not Beeches. We're Partridges, Oriole and Robin Partridge, from down the valley, and we look after Spindle House for your uncle," said Oriole.

"My
uncle!"
Copper squeaked. "Do you mean he was married to Aunt Ruby?"

Robin and Oriole exchanged a look. "No, dear, I don't think so."

"Greenwood—that's your uncle—will explain when he gets back. Now, sit yourself down and have some more breakfast," said Robin.

Copper sat down, but she couldn't help thinking that it was very rude of her uncle not to be there to greet her.

Oriole went on stirring the porridge, humming and singing a wordless song with many la la las and trills and peeping noises. Exactly the same song the thrush had sung to Copper that morning.

Porridge was served in a wooden bowl, but when Copper picked up the wooden spoon to eat, she shrieked and dropped it again. "It moved!"

"Of course it did," said Robin, laughing. "You're from the Wood clan all right."

"It was just settling into your hand, dear," explained Oriole
quietly, "so as to be comfortable and friendly. Didn't you notice the chair moving under you too, and perhaps the banister on the stairs?"

"I did," said Copper. "I told Ral... I mean, yes, I did feel it move and sort of speak too."

"Just the wood being friendly. I expect it's pleased to have you home too."

Copper squeezed the spoon more firmly and felt it soften and mold itself into her palm until it was a perfect fit. "I love it."

"The house is an old spindle tree, you see. Spindle trees are usually quite small but this one grew to an immensely vast size," Robin explained. "That's why the rooms are such funny shapes. Spindle wood is strong and supple, used for making spindles, of course, though not this one. But you'd know about all that, being a Beech."

"No, I wouldn't," said Copper. "I've just been living with Aunt Ruby."

"Ah, yes," said Robin.

"Never mind," said Oriole, coming over to the table with a bowl of porridge for herself. She put the dish on the table, then carefully turned round three times before sitting on the chair. She saw Copper watching her and smiled.

"It's what Silver does," she said, "and I expect she has a good reason for it, so I do too."

Copper giggled.

"Did your alarm clock go off this morning?" asked Questrid.

"The thrush? Yes," said Copper. "It was lovely."

"Spindle House is still a tree, you see, and we like to share it with the birds. They do all sorts of things in exchange."

Copper looked puzzled.

"Like messages," said Questrid, laughing. "Your aunt Ruby sent us a bird to say you were coming."

"Aunt Ruby? But what about the telephone?"

"Oh, we don't have one of those. The phone lines don't come up into the mountains. Besides, bird-o-gram is a wonderful system."

Copper thought about the feather in her aunt's bedroom. Of course, that explained it. It seemed there was a whole secret world about which Copper knew nothing.

"Aunt Ruby was scared," she told them. "Two men were after me—I saw them at the station."

Oriole looked serious. "Yes. She thought you'd be safer here, and . . . but . . . we can't explain. It's not our story to tell. Wait for your uncle to explain."

She stopped abruptly and stood quite still, listening. Somewhere outside a bell was ringing loudly:
Ding, ding, ding, ding!
it repeated again and again, clear and alarming in the quiet morning. Copper looked at the others.

"What is it?"

But Oriole and Robin and Questrid were already on their feet and running for the door.

"Fire!" they cried. "Fire!"

8. The Rockers

Copper picked up
Ralick, dragged on a big red coat, stuffed her feet into a pair of wool-lined boots she found by the door and followed the others outside.

The air was cold and crisp and took her breath away.

"Can I help?" she asked, hurrying along after them.

"No! Stay there!" Questrid spoke so sharply that Copper sank down on the nearest seat, dejected.

"That's telling you," said Ralick.

They were at the back of the house in a cobbled courtyard. Across the yard were the two sled horses puffing warm clouds of steam over the stable door and stamping their feet. The bell was ringing out the alarm in a small tower on the roof above them.

Copper walked round the yard and was surprised to see a large black-back gull standing on the roof, tugging at the bell rope with its beak.

How clever. I wonder where the fire is.

Soon the others came in under the archway and Robin whistled a signal and the seagull stopped, called out to them, then flew away.

"Is everything all right?" Copper asked.

"Yes, don't worry," said Oriole, going back into the house. "Come back into the warm. We've put out the fire. It was only tiny."

"You'll have to tell her," said Questrid as they trooped back into the kitchen.

"Tell me what?"

"About the Rockers," said Questrid.

"Our neighbors up in the hills who are not very friendly," said Oriole, darting a warning look at Questrid. "The Rockers, we call them. They shot these." She held out three arrows with blackened tips. "These were on fire when they shot them at the house and as you can imagine, with a wooden house we have to be careful."

"But the birds are on guard all day," said Robin, gently lifting a sparrow off his chair. "And they plucked them out of the roof and dropped them into the snow."

"But why do these Rocker people do that? They must hate you."

"The Rockers live in the Rock, up in the mountains. And, yes, they do seem to hate the inhabitants of Spindle House and have for years."

"Why?"

"Now, now," Oriole interrupted, "that's all over and done
with, isn't it? That's just the past, that is. Questrid, are you going to take Copper to look round?"

"Sure," said Questrid. "Come on, Copper. I'll give you a guided tour." He handed her a coat.

"Oh, all right," said Copper, putting it on. "But I would like to know about the Rockers."

"Plenty of time. Now, off you go—and Questrid," Oriole added quietly, "keep your eyes peeled."

"It's freezing out here!" cried Copper, stepping out into the snow.

Questrid grinned. "I'm used to it. There's Thunder and Lightning," he said, indicating the two horses. "Aren't they lovely? I live up above them. I've got my own room and I look after them."

"Don't you want to live in the house?"

"No, I like it with the animals best, and with me not being family and everything ..."

"I thought. . . isn't Robin your father?"

Questrid laughed. "Of course not! He's from down the valley."

"So?" she said.

"Well, I couldn't be from down the valley. That's all the Partridges and the Peacocks, the Parrots and Woodcocks. Bird clans. I don't look like them, do I?"

Copper shook her head.

"I don't look like anyone, really. Mind you, although you've got the Beech hands, you don't look absolutely Beech."

"How do you know?"

"I know your uncle, don't forget, and there are pictures, portraits. The Beeches are very tall, with red or golden hair and green eyes—yours are nearly black. And they have freckles—you don't. They have long fingers and toes like you, though. They do fantastic things with wood. Do you?"

Copper thought of her attempts at stone carving. Dreadful. Nothing had emerged except a blob. But she had never tried carving wood.

"Come this way," said Questrid. "I want you to see Spindle House properly. You can't see the garden, it's all under snow and there's a lake too, all iced over."

The sky was palest blue with high, thin misty clouds. A weak sunshine made the crusty edges of snow glisten and sparkle. The snow crunched under their feet as if they were treading on eggshells. Copper breathed in the fresh air greedily.

"I love it," she said.
"I
feel wonderful
here."

Questrid smiled. "Of course you do. It's where you belong. Can't cut a twig off a tree then stick it in concrete and expect it to thrive, can you?"

Copper shook her head, although she wasn't sure she understood. Still it was good to be told she belonged, to even begin to feel as if she belonged.

They walked through an archway to the front of the house where the big double doors were. Over them, carved in great detail, was a large, long-tailed dragon.

"That's just like Aunt Ruby's dragon," said Copper. "Did
she live here? She told me she had a dragon when she was little. I can believe it now that I've seen this place."

Questrid smiled. "Was it very boring where you've been living?"

"Very."

The house really was a massive tree. It was brown and tree shaped with very large, thick branches in which small windows were arranged.

Copper ran down to the wall at the end of the garden to get a good look at it.

"I've never seen anything like it!" she cried. "It's the weirdest house in the world, but I think it's great. Oh, look," she added. "Look up there."

Right at the top, at the highest window, a magpie was fluttering, as if it were trying to get inside. It landed on the windowsill, tapped on the glass with its beak and, when the window opened, disappeared inside.

"Did you see that?" Copper squeaked.

"What? I didn't see anything," said Questrid.

"Someone's up there! Someone let the bird inside. Oriole said Uncle Greenwood's out. Who else lives here, Questrid?"

"No one," said Questrid. "I didn't see anything. There are birds all over this place."

"There must be someone up there," said Copper. "Someone opened the window."

But Questrid wasn't interested. He had his eye on Ralick.

"I saw that funny-looking old teddy last night when you
came," he said thoughtfully. "How come you take him everywhere?"

"He's not a teddy and he's not funny-looking," snapped Copper, suddenly embarrassed. "He's Ralick."

"Sorry,"
said Questrid, grinning. "Is there something wrong with his head? I mean, does he have to wear that hat thing?"

"Hat.
Just a plain hat, not a hat thing. I made it."

"Let's have a look at him," said Questrid. He turned Ralick over and over in his hands and stared into his glass eyes.

"I don't know why, but I feel like I know this ted . . . Ralick," said Questrid, looking confused and worried. "Could I have seen him somewhere, in a book or something? Is he famous?"

"No," said Copper, laughing as she took Ralick back. "I bet he wishes he was, but he's just Ralick."

9. Wood and Stone

They walked right
round Spindle House. At the back, the north side, the ground sloped steeply upward toward the mountains. Dotted over the hillside were clumps of dark trees and large bare rocks that stuck out sharply black against the whiteness of the snow.

"Look up there," said Questrid, "over to the right and you'll see the Rock. That's where the Rockers come from."

Copper strained her eyes, peering into the distance. "I can't see anything."

"It is hard to see," said Questrid. "It's really just a mass of tunnels and caves, built right on top of the mountain with windows at the front. The Rockers are completely isolated up there in their stone fort. If they do venture out, it's only to do evil, like try to set Spindle House on fire. Copper, you're shivering. I
am
sorry. Come up to my room where it's warm."

Copper grinned. "I'm not acclimatized yet."

At the back of the stable, behind the horses, was a ladder
leading up to a long attic room where Questrid slept. There were four tiny windows in the sloping roof and a stove in the corner. There was a wooden bed with a patchwork quilt, a carved chest of drawers and a chair. On a table were some peculiar chunks of wood that seemed to have been hacked at roughly. Copper picked one up.

"What's this?"

Questrid grinned. "Can't you tell?"