hands and knees groping over the rough floor.
'Splendid!' cried Rhun, glancing over his shoulder. 'A little light is what I needed. Now, surely, it's bound to be here. Let me see, first, where I was climbing up. If it dropped out then, by all rights it should be close to the wall.'
Taran was determined, if need be, to lay hold of the Prince and drag him bodily from the cell which had so nearly become a tomb. He strode forward just as Rhun gave a cry of triumph.
'And there it is!' shouted the Prince, He picked up the book and carefully examined it. 'I hope it isn't damaged,' he remarked. 'All that scrambling about might have torn the pages. No, it seems…' He stopped and shook his head in dismay. 'I say, that is a shame! It's ruined. All covered with scratchings and markings. Whatever could have happened?'
He put the leather-bound volume into Taran's hand. 'Look,' he said. 'What a pity. Every page is marred. It's really useless now.'
Taran was about to cast the book aside and carry out his first intention of collaring the Prince, but his eyes widened at the sight of the pages. 'Rhun,' he whispered, 'these are more than scratchings. It is carefully written. I had thought the pages empty.'
'So had I,' said Rhun. 'What could…'
Fflewddur called out, urging them to hasten. Taran and Prince Rhun left the chamber. Gurgi had already reached the opening in the cavern ceiling and was beckoning to them.
'The book we found in Glew's hut,' Taran began.
'Don't worry about Glew's property, worry about Glew,' said Fflewddur. 'He's beginning to stir. Move along or we'll still end up in one of his potions.'
The sun had just risen, but it was bright and warming after the dank cavern. The companions gratefully breathed the fresh springtime air. Gurgi shouted joyfully and raced on ahead. He soon returned with good tidings: the river lay not too far away. The companions set out for it with all speed.
As they strode along Taran held up the volume to Fflewddur. 'There is deep mystery in this. I cannot read the writing; the script is ancient. But how it came there…'
'After what we've been through,' replied the bard, glancing at the pages, 'I can understand your wanting to jest. But this is hardly the moment for it.'
'Jest? I do not jest!' Taran started as he pointed at the volume again. The pages were empty as they had always been. 'The writing,' he stammered. 'It's gone!'
'My friend,' said the bard gently, 'your eyes have played you false. At the river we'll put pool cloths on your head and you'll feel much better. It's quite understandable, considering the darkness, the shock of nearly being boiled…'
'I know what I have seen,' Taran protested. 'Even in the cavern, even in the dim light of the bauble…'
'It's true,' put in Rhun, who had been following their talk. 'I saw it myself. There's no mistake. The bauble was shining straight on the pages.'
'The bauble!' Taran cried. 'Wait! Can it be?' Hurriedly he drew out the sphere, while the companions halted and watched him silently. As the light blossomed in his hand, Taran held it so that its rays bathed the pages in a golden glow.
The writing sprang into sight, sharp and clear.
'Astonishing!' cried Rhun. 'The most amazing thing I've seen in my life!'
Taran crouched on the turf, held the bauble close to the book, and with trembling fingers turned leaf after leaf. The curious tracing crowded every page. The bard gave along, low whistle.
'What does this mean, Fflewddur?' Taran asked. He raised his head and looked with concern at the bard.
The bard's face had paled. 'What it means, in my opinion,' said Fflewddur, 'is that we should get rid of the book instantly. Drop it in the river. I regret to say I can't read it. I could never manage to learn all these secret scripts and ancient letters. But I recognize enchantment when I see it.' He shuddered and turned away. 'I'd rather not even look at it, if you don't mind. Not that it frightens me. Yes, it makes me feel acutely uneasy; and you know my views on meddling.'
'If Glew spoke the truth, it comes from a place of enchantments,' Taran said. 'But what can it tell us? I shall not destroy it,' he added, returning the book to his jacket. 'I can't explain; I feel as though I'd touched a secret. It's strange, like a moth that brushes your hand and flutters away again.'
'Ahem,' said Fflewddur, casting a nervous glance at Taran. 'If you insist on carrying the thing with you, would you oblige me? nothing personal, you understand? but I would appreciate it if you'd stay a few paces away.'
Midday was long past when the companions reached the riverbank, but they rejoiced at their good fortune. The remains of the raft were still there. They set to work hastily to repair it. Prince Rhun, in better spirits than ever, labored unstintingly. For a time Taran had forgotten the Prince of Mona was to be Eilonwy's betrothed. Now the sad thought returned to him as he helped Rhun knot new vines around the raft.
'You should be proud of yourself,' Taran said quietly. 'Did you seek to prove yourself a true Prince? You have done so, Rhun Son of Rhuddlum.'
'Why, perhaps that's so,' replied Rhun, as though the idea had never occurred to him. 'But it's a curious thing. It doesn't seem one bit as important as it did. Astonishing, but true!'
The sun had begun to dip by the time the raft was ready. Taran, who had grown more and more restless as the day waned, urged the companions to press on rather than wait the night on shore, and they clambered aboard.
Twilight soon fell over the valley, and the Alaw ran in swift silver ripples under the rising moon. The shore lay silent, flanked by brooding hills. In the middle of the raft Gurgi curled up like a muddy ball of leaves; beside him, the Prince of Mona slept and snored peacefully, a smile of contentment on his round face. Taking the first watch, Taran and Fflewddur guided the awkward craft as it rapidly floated seaward.
They spoke little. Fflewddur had not entirely lost his disquiet over the strange book. Taran's thoughts were for the morrow, which he hoped would bring the companions closer to the end of their search. Once again, fear and doubt made him wonder if he had chosen wisely. Even if Eilonwy had been taken to Caer Colur, he had no cause to believe Magg? or Achren? still held her there. So little was known for certain. The book and its meaning, even the nature of Eilonwy's bauble, were more riddles added to so many others.
'Why?' he murmured. 'Why is the writing clear only when the bauble shines on it? And why did it light for Rhun, when it had never done so before? Why did it light for me, for that matter?'
'As a bard,' answered Fflewddur, 'I know a great deal about these enchanted devices, and I can tell you…' At the narrow end of the harp, a string tinkled as it snapped in two. 'Ah, yes,' said Fflewddur, 'the fact is: I know very little about them. Eilonwy, of course, has the gift of making it light when she pleases. She's half an enchantress, you know, and the bauble does belong to her. For someone else, I wonder? and I'm only guessing, mind you? I wonder if it might have to do with? how shall I put it? not even thinking about it. Or about yourself.
'What I mean,' Fflewddur went on, 'in the cavern, when I tried to make it light, I was saying to myself: If
'Perhaps,' Taran said quietly, watching the moon-white riverbank slip past them, 'perhaps you have the truth of it. At first I felt as you did. Then I remember thinking of Eilonwy, only of her; and the bauble showed its light. Prince Rhun was ready to lay down his life; his thoughts were for our safety, not at all for his own. And because he offered the greatest sacrifice, the bauble glowed brightest for him. Can that be its secret? To think more for others than ourselves?'
'That would seem to be one of its secrets, at least,' replied Fflewddur. 'Once you've discovered that, you've discovered a great secret indeed? with or without the bauble.'
THE HILLS HAD FLATTENED and given way to low fields of sedge. A scent of brine and brackish water reached Taran's nostrils. Ahead, the river widened, flowing into a bay, and beyond that to an even greater expanse of water. To his right, on the far side of towering rocks, Taran heard the rush of surf. Reluctantly he decided they dared go no farther until dawn. While Fflewddur roused Gurgi and Prince Rhun, Taran poled the rafter shore.
The companions settled themselves amid a tall clump of reeds and Gurgi opened his wallet of food. Taran, still
