The Book of Three

just for that you shan't have her back. And you'll stay here, all of you, until I feel like letting you go.'

Eilonwy gasped with indignation. 'If you do that,' she cried, 'you are a thief and a wretch! You gave me your word. The Fair Folk don't go back on their word.'

'There was no mention of a pig, no mention at all.' Eiddileg clapped his hands over his paunch and snapped his mouth shut.

'No,' Taran said, 'there was not. But there is a question of honesty and honor.'

Eiddileg blinked and looked sideways. He took out his orange kerchief and mopped his brow again. 'Honor,' he muttered, 'yes, I was afraid you'd come to that. True, the Fair Folk never break their word. Well,' he sighed, 'that's the price for being openhearted and generous. So be it. You shall have your pig.'

'We shall need weapons to replace those we lost,' Taran said.

'What?' screamed Eiddileg. 'Are you trying to ruin me?'

'And crunchings and munchings!' piped up Gurgi.

Taran nodded. 'Provisions, as well.'

'This is going too far,' Eiddileg shouted. 'You're bleeding me to death! Weapons! Food! Pigs!'

'And we beg for a guide who will show us the way to Caer Dathyl.'

At this, Eiddileg nearly exploded. When finally he calmed himself, he nodded reluctantly. 'I shall lend you Doli,' he said. 'He is the only one I can spare.' He clapped his hands and gave orders to the armed dwarfs, then turned to the companions.

'Off with you now, before I change my mind.' Eilonwy stepped quickly to the throne, bent and kissed Eiddileg on the top of his head. 'Thank you,' she whispered, 'you're a perfectly lovely king.'

'Out! Out!' the dwarf cried. As the stone door closed behind him, Taran saw King Eiddileg fondling his head and beaming happily.

The troop of Fair Folk led the company down the vaulted corridors. Taran had at first imagined Eiddileg's realm to be no more than a maze of underground galleries. To his astonishment, the corridors soon broadened into wide avenues. In the great domes far overhead, gems glittered as bright as sunshine. There was no grass, but deep carpets of green lichen stretched out like meadows. There were blue lakes, glistening as much as the jewels above; and cottages, and small farmhouses. It was difficult for Taran and his companions to realize they were underground.

'I've been thinking,' whispered Fflewddur, 'that it might be wiser to leave Hen Wen here, until we can return for her.'

'I thought of that, too,' answered Taran. 'It's not that I don't trust Eiddileg to keep his word? most of the time. But I'm not sure we should take another chance in that lake, and I doubt we could find another way into his kingdom. He certainly won't make it easy for us to come back, I'm afraid. No, we must take Hen Wen while we have the chance. Once she's with me again, I won't let her out of my sight.'

Suddenly the Fair Folk halted at one of the cottages, and from a neatly carpentered pen Taran heard a loud 'Hwoinch!'

He raced to the sty. Hen Wen was standing with her front feet on the rails, grunting at the top of her voice.

One of the Fair Folk opened the gate and the white pig burst out, wriggling and squealing.

Taran threw his arms around Hen Wen's neck. 'Oh, Hen!' he cried. 'Even Medwyn thought you were dead!'

'Hwch! Hwaaw!' Hen Wen chuckled joyfully. Her beady eyes sparkled. With her great pink snout she rooted affectionately under Taran's chin and came close to knocking him down.

'She looks like a wonderful pig,' Eilonwy said, scratching Hen Wen behind the ears. 'It's always nice to see two friends meet again. It's like waking up with the sun shining.'

'She's certainly a great deal of pig,' agreed the bard, 'though very handsome, I must say.'

'And clever, noble, brave, wise Gurgi found her.'

'Have no fear,' Taran said with a smile to Gurgi, 'there's no chance we'll forget it.'

Rolling and waddling on her short legs, Hen Wen followed Taran happily, while the Fair Folk proceeded across the fields to where a stocky figure waited. The captain of the troop announced that this was Doli, the guide Eiddileg had promised. Doli, short and stumpy, almost as broad as he was tall, wore a rust-colored leather jacket and stout, knee-high boots. A round cap covered his head, but not enough to conceal a fringe of flaming red hair. An axe and short sword hung from his belt; and over his shoulder, he wore the stubby bow of the Fair Folk warrior.

Taran bowed politely. The dwarf stared at him with a pair of bright red eyes and snorted. Then, to Taran's surprise, Doli took a deep breath and held it until his face turned scarlet and he looked about to burst. After a few moments, the dwarf puffed out his cheeks and snorted again.

'What's the trouble?' asked Taran.

'You can still see me, can't you?' Doli burst out angrily.

'Of course, I can still see you.' Taran frowned. 'Why shouldn't I?'

Doli gave him a scornful look and did not answer.

Two of the Fair Folk led up Melyngar. King Eiddileg, Taran saw with relief, was as good as his word. The saddlebags bulged with provisions, and the white mare also carried a number of spears, bows, and arrows? short and heavy, as were all the weapons of the Fair Folk, but carefully and sturdily crafted.

Without another word, Doli beckoned them to follow him across the meadow. Grumbling and muttering to himself, the dwarf led them to what seemed to be the sheer face of a cliff. Only after he had reached it did Taran see long flights of steps carved into the living rock. Doli jerked his head toward the stairway and they began to climb.

This passageway of the Fair Folk was steeper than any of the mountains they had crossed. Melyngar strained forward. Wheezing and gasping, Hen Wen pulled herself up each step. The stairway turned and twisted; at one point, the darkness was such that the companions lost sight of each other. After a time, the steps broke off and the group trod a narrow pathway of hard-packed stones. Sheets of white light rippled ahead and the travelers found themselves behind a high waterfall. One after the other, they leaped the glistening rocks, splashed through a foaming stream, and at last emerged into the cool air of the hills.

Doli squinted up at the sun. 'Not much daylight left,' he muttered, more gruffly than King Eiddileg himself. 'Don't think I'm going to walk my legs off all night, either. Didn't ask for this work, you know. Got picked for it, Guiding a crew of? of what! An Assistant Pig-Keeper. A yellow-headed idiot with a harp. A girl with a sword. A shaggy what-is-it. Not to mention the livestock. All you can hope for is you don't run into a real war band. They'd do for you, they would. There's not one of you looks as if he could handle a blade. Humph!'

This was the most Doli had spoken since they had left Eiddileg's realm and, despite the dwarf's uncomplimentary opinions, Taran hoped he would finally come around to being civil. Doli, however, had said all he intended to say for a while; later, when Taran ventured to speak to him, the dwarf turned angrily away and started holding his breath again.

'For goodness sake,' Eilonwy cried, 'I wish you'd stop that. It makes me feel as if I'd drunk too much water, just watching you.'

'It still doesn't work,' Doli growled.

'Whatever are you trying to do?' Taran asked.

Even Hen Wen stared curiously at the dwarf.

'What does it look like?' Doli answered. 'I'm trying to make myself invisible.'

'That's an odd thing to attempt,' remarked Fflewddur.

'I'm supposed to be invisible,' snapped Doli. 'My whole family can do it. Just like that! Like blowing out a candle. But not me. No wonder they all laugh at me. No wonder Eiddileg sends me out with a pack of fools. If there's anything nasty or disagreeable to be done, it's always 'find good old Doli.' If there's gems to be cut or blades to be decorated or arrows to be footed? that's the job for good old Doli!'

The dwarf held his breath again, this time so long that his face turned blue and his ears trembled.

'I think you're getting it now,' said the bard, with an encouraging smile. 'I can't see you at all.' No sooner had this remark passed his lips than a harp string snapped in two. Fflewddur looked sorrowfully at the instrument. 'Blast the thing,' he muttered, 'I knew I was exaggerating somewhat; I only did it to make him feel better. He actually did seem to be fading a bit around the edges.'

'If I could carve gems and do all those other things,' Taran remarked sympathetically to Doli, 'I wouldn't mind