in my hands once more. Then? then it was very strange. In the light of it, I could see all of you. Not with my eyes, really, but in my heart. I knew you wanted me to destroy the spells. And I wanted to as much as you did.
'Yet, it was as though there were two of me. One did and one didn't want to give up the spells. I knew it was my only chance to become an enchantress, and if I gave up my powers then that would be the end of it. I suppose,' she said softly to Taran, 'I felt a little the way you did long ago in the Marshes of Morva, when you had to decide to give up Adaon's magic brooch.
'The rest of it wasn't pleasant.' Eilonwy's voice faltered. 'I'd? I'd rather not talk about that.' She was silent a moment. 'Now I shall never be an enchantress. There's nothing left for me now except being a girl.'
'That is more than enough cause for pride,' Gwydion said gently. 'For all you chose to sacrifice; you have kept Achren from ruling Prydain. We owe more than our lives to you.'
'I'm glad the book of spells burned up,' Eilonwy said, 'but I'm sorry I lost my bauble. By this time it's surely floated far out to sea.' She sighed. 'There's nothing to be done about that. But I shall miss it.'
As she spoke, Taran glimpsed a flickering movement against the dark gray sky. He leaped to his feet. It was Kaw, swooping landward at top speed.
'The last of our strays!' cried Fflewddur.
Llyan's ears pricked up, her long whiskers twitched, but she made no attempt to lunge for the crow. Instead, she rose to her haunches and purred fondly at the sight of her former opponent.
His feathers bedraggled and pointing every which way, Kaw fluttered above Eilonwy. Despite his disreputable appearance, he squawked and snapped his beak with enormous self-satisfaction. 'Bauble!' Kaw croaked. 'Bauble!'
From his claws the Golden Pelydryn dropped into Eilonwy's outstretched hands.
GWYDION AT FIRST had decided the companions should rest until morning, but Prince Rhun was eager to return to Dinas Rhydnant.
'There's a great deal to be done,' he said. 'I'm afraid we've let Magg look after things we should have seen to ourselves. There's more to being a Prince than I thought. I've learned that from an Assistant Pig-Keeper,' he added, clasping Taran's hand, 'and from all of you. And there's still most of Mona to be seen. If I'm ever to be King, I'm sure I should see it all. Though, I hope, in a rather different way. So if you don't mind, I should like to set out now.'
Gurgi had no wish to linger anywhere near Caer Colur, and Fflewddur could hardly wait to show Llyan her new home in his own realm. Eilonwy insisted she was quite able to travel, and at last Gwydion agreed they would start without delay. He agreed, too, that they would pass by the cavern to see how Glew fared, for Taran still held to the promise he had made to help the wretched giant.
The ragged band made ready to leave the coast. Achren, finally consenting to voyage to Caer Dallben, walked slowly, withdrawn into her own thoughts, while Llyan frisked beside the bard, and Kaw sported overhead.
Eilonwy had gone for a moment to the edge of the surf. Taran, following her, stood as she watched the dancing waves.
'I thought I should have a last look at Caer Colur,' Eilonwy said, 'just to remember where it is. Or rather, where it isn't. I'm sorry, in a way, that it's gone. Outside of Caer Dallben, it was the only home I had.'
'Once you are safe at Dinas Rhydnant,' Taran said, 'I shall stay no longer on Mona. I had hoped, after all you'd been through, that? that you'd come back with us. But Gwydion is sure that Dallben meant for you to stay here. I suppose he's right. I can hear Dallben now:. Being rescued has nothing to do with being educated.'
Eilonwy said nothing for a while. Then she turned to Taran. 'One thing more I remembered at Caer Colur: Dallben's saying that there was a time when we must be more than what we are. Can it be true that being a young lady is more important than being an enchantress? Perhaps that's what he meant. I shall have to find out for myself.
'So if I must learn to be a young lady, whatever that may be that's any different from what I am,' Eilonwy continued, 'then I shall try to learn twice as fast as those silly geese at Dinas Rhydhant and be home twice as soon. For Caer Daliben is my only real home now.
'Why, what's this?' Eilonwy cried suddenly. The sea has given us a present!'
She knelt and from the foaming surf drew a battered object and stripped away the trailing seaweed. Taran saw an ancient battle horn, bound in silver with a silver mouthpiece.
Eilonwy turned it over in her hands and looked carefully at it. She smiled sadly. 'It's all that's left of Caer Colur. What use it might be, I don't know and never shall. But if you promise not to forget me until we meet again, I promise not to forget you. And this shall be my pledge.'
'I promise gladly,' Taran said. He hesitated. 'But what pledge have I to give you? I have none, other than my word.'
'The word of an Assistant Pig-Keeper?' said Eilonwy. 'That shall do very well indeed. Here, take it. Giving gifts is much nicer than saying farewell.'
'And yet,' Taran answered, 'we must say farewell. You know that King Rhuddlum and Queen Teleria mean to betroth you to Prince Rhun.'
'Indeed!' exclaimed Eilonwy. 'Well, I assure you they shall do no such thing. There's limits to having people make up your mind for you. Rhun has certainly improved; I think this journey was the best thing that ever happened to him and someday he might even make a respectable sort of King. But as for being betrothed…' She stopped suddenly and looked at Taran. 'Did you seriously think for a moment I would ever…? Taran of Caer Dallben,' she cried angrily, her eyes flashing, 'I'm not speaking to you!
'At least,' Eilonwy added quickly, 'not for a little while.'
