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couldn’t keep the true state of affairs quiet for ever. Sooner or later Low Command was going to have to notice what was going on with Sally, and then he’d be replaced and hauled off for that career interview and everything that came with it. His best chance of survival was to get himself transferred to another human first. The recognized way of achieving this was to sneak up on a colleague, disembowel and dismember him in a suitably collegiate fashion and then to take his place. Low Command didn’t usually mind if you did that. Most of them had done it themselves at some time or other.
    He had already eyed Scattletail’s neck and wondered about his chances of getting his talons around it. But Scattletail wasn’t just a colleague. He was . . .
    . . . Well, not a
friend
, because the sort of people Muddlespot and Scattletail were did not make friends, and anyone trying to make friends with them would be being
most
unwise . . .
    But it was reassuring, sometimes, to see him, and to compare notes on cards with pink hearts on them andother things like that. Scattletail had been playing this game for a long time.
    Which was probably why he hadn’t once turned his back on Muddlespot. Nor had he taken his hands out of his pockets. Scattletail’s coat looked as if it had really quite deep pockets. There could be a lot of nasty things down there. Muddlespot wondered what they were.
    On the whole, he thought, he’d rather not find out.
    â€˜See,’ said Scattletail. ‘
If
you’re winning, you probably don’t want ‘em. They just make it more difficult. But if things are running against you somehow, and you need that break, then maybe a quick hit with a golden arrow might do it for you. ‘Mazing what can follow from one of those. Lies, tears, battle and murder – you can get the lot.’
    â€˜But . . .’ said Muddlespot.
    â€˜But?’
    Muddlespot wriggled a little. ‘I’ve, er, also got a deal, you see. With my opposite number. We keep it local. Just him and me. No interference from outside. We don’t let anyone in from Down Below. Not after the, er, Muffin Incident, you remember?’
    Scattletail nodded slowly. He remembered all right.
    â€˜. . . So, er,
if
he thinks he’s winning, and he doesn’t want the lies and tears and battle and murder, then he’ll say the same applies to people from Above. We shouldn’t be letting them in. And he’ll expect me to back him up on that.’
    â€˜So?’
    â€˜So . . .’ Muddlespot shrugged helplessly. ‘Well, a deal’s a deal.’
    Scattletail’s eyes were on him. They were black and bright and cold. And very, very deep.
    â€˜Sure,’ he said. And added slowly, ‘But a devil’s a devil, isn’t he?’
    â€˜I guess you’re right.’ Muddlespot sighed. ‘I never get used to that bit.’
    He looked at his toes. He was more nervous than he dared to admit. Windleberry was strong. During the ‘Muffin Incident’ he had gone thirteen rounds with Muddlespot’s boss – a
very
formidable person – and had come out on top. It was definitely in Muddlespot’s interest that there should be a few rules about how things were done inside Sally’s head. He would have felt a lot happier about binning the ‘Keep It Local’ rule if he could have known which other rules were going to get binned with it. He particularly wanted to keep the one about ‘No Smiting’. The ‘No Eye-Gouging’,‘No Knee-capping’ and ‘No Wedgies’ rules were also important, he thought.
    And yet – it all started from Sally. In a way, Windleberry was strong because Sally
wanted
him to be strong. And for some reason Muddlespot could not fathom, Sally also wanted Muddlespot to be Muddlespot. There was a place for him in her mind. It just wasn’t a very big