The plan was enacted without fail. Firstly Firenze galloped into view and shot a couple of hours at the spearmen to draw them away from the tree. They took the bait and chased the centaur, who was far too swift for them. Firenze had to measure his pace so that the guards could keep him in sight and would continue their pursuit. Meanwhile, Astor snuck up to the tree and had a searched around its gnarled roots for where he buried the spear. His memory was vague, proving a more arduous and lengthy process than he had anticipated. Finally, just as the tension was beginning to get too much, he saw the promising signs of disturbed grass and earth where he may have buried the spear. Using his hands, he clawed at the dirt. Haste was needed, but he also had to be careful not to nick the blade with his finger. Every time he grabbed a mound of dirt he dug with his fingers, he knew he could be putting his life in mortal danger. He was lucky again. Not only did he re-discover the black basilisk tooth, but he also grabbed its handle first and thus avoided its toxic touch. The guards were still chasing Firenze around. Astor could just make out the altercation in the distance. Wasting no time, he snuck back into the forest and walked a few miles before stopping to rest and wait for the exiled centaur to return.