The skinny monster strides back to the firepit and rolls a log over towards them, plonking it in front of the cage.

‘I don’t trust a traitor,’ he hisses through the bars at Buster. ‘Any funny business and the little witch gets it!’ He slices a long, gnarly finger across his skinny throat. ‘And I’ll take that, thank you very much!’ he says, reaching into the cage and snatching the velvet bag away from Polly. He peers inside. ‘Aha! Just as I thought.’

He draws out Miss Spinnaker’s long brass wand from the bag and tries to snap it across his knee, but it won’t bend or break so he tosses it into the bushes. Then he pulls out the food Polly has stashed in there and tosses the bag in the same direction as the wand. ‘You two will stay in there til Carmen gets back, and there’ll be no trouble from you. You hear?’

The big monster sits on the log beside the skinny monster and holds out his paw for some food. They share the pickings between them while Buster watches on hungrily.

Buster turns around to where Polly is sitting on the little stool and she hands him a cup of cool water from the jug. He gulps it down, then squats on the dusty ground beside her. ‘I don’t like those two monsters,’ he grumbles. ‘I think we should go.’

He reaches out to one of the thin metal bars and pushes it hard. It bends a little. Polly can see how easily Buster could break them out of the cage, but her mind is racing with other plans. She dips her fingers into her pocket and feels the warmth of the stones. The mines are beckoning her, but she feels there is more she needs to understand about what is going on in the monsters’ hide-out first.

‘Hold on for a little while, Buster,’ she whispers. ‘I don’t think they’d really hurt us. I think that little one is just bluffing.’

‘He ate our food!’ Buster protests. ‘That’s not bluffing!’

‘I want to find out a bit more about who Carmen is and what she’s planning to do,’ Polly explains. ‘This is pretty serious, Buster. Don’t you see? This whole monsters versus witches thing. There could be a full-blown war if we don’t find some way to stop this. We need to find out as much as we can to tell Miss Spinnaker. When we finally find her!’ she adds.

Buster hurrumphs and kicks at the dust. ‘This isn’t the kind of adventure I thought we’d be having. Stuck in a cage, starving to death. That’s a boring adventure. Not a fun one!’

‘Oh, Buster!’ Polly says. ‘You only had breakfast a couple of hours ago. I’m pretty sure you won’t starve to death. And I promise we’ll get out of here soon. All right?’

Buster sighs deeply. Polly can see he is working very hard not to show his feelings in case he changes size or colour. She knows he hates other monsters seeing how much he feels things in case they tease him about it, and this makes her heart squeeze for her dearest friend. He is the biggest, strongest monster she knows, but she also knows, all too well, how teasing can hurt in ways that nothing else can. She takes hold of his paw until a little smile creeps back to his face and she can feel him relax again. Then she stands up and wanders over to the front of the cage.

Polly takes a deep breath and tries to sound braver than she feels. She is not sure which monster she should talk to, but decides the bigger one looks less mean. She presses her face up against the bars of the cage. ‘When is Carmen coming back?’ she asks him politely.

‘None of your business,’ the little one snaps without turning around.

Polly tries again. ‘Is she your leader?’

The big monster turns his head to answer Polly. His lips are pink and shiny with pricklefruit juice. ‘That’s right!’ he says proudly. ‘Carmen is our glorious leader. She is going to lead us into a new future, where monsters will have the power and witches have to do all the dirty work, like working in the factories and mines. Monsters will sit around like fat bortals in mud and you witches and warlocks will work for us for a change.’

He swings his big hairy arms out wide, then slaps his chest with three fingers pointing down in the sign of an ‘M’ for monsters. ‘It’s going to be glorious!’

‘Stop saying glorious!’ the little monster snaps. ‘You sound like an idiot.’

The big monster’s face crumples. ‘You are!’ he sniffs.

Polly feels anger heating up her chest. ‘Not all witches and warlocks are like that!’ she protests. ‘My dad worked in the mines, too.’ She feels her throat bunch up as the next words come out. ‘He died in the mines.’

The skinny monster turns his head just a little, and glares at Polly from the corner of his mean eyes. ‘Boo hoo,’ he sneers. ‘Two witches and three warlocks die and the town will never let us forget it. Thirty monsters also died that day, but to you witches it’s as if they never existed. Now go back to your corner and stop bothering us with all your chit-chat!’

He spits angrily at the dirt, then goes back to picking his teeth with a stick.