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"The sword, Dann, my sword!"

Leaning dangerously out from the prow, Dann whipped forth the sword and thrust it instinctively into the large crack running up the rock face. Throwing his weight forward against the hilt, Dann pushed hard. The Swalloiv hovered for a moment, then turned in a fast circle on the dashing waters until Dann found himself facing upstream. The boat had turned completely around. Straining against the mighty pressure, Dann held her firm.

"Song, do something quick! I can't hold her much longer!"

There was a ledge overhead. Song reached it the only way she could. With a bound she was on Burble's shoulders, thrusting herself into an upward leap. Her paws grasped the ledge and she hauled herself upward, scrabbling to find holds in the rifted stone. She pulled and struggled until she was lying flat on the ledge, hanging over the edge. She held out her paws. "Burble, throw me the stern rope!"

The river vole threw the rope into her waiting paws, then made the other end fast by looping it around the rear seat. Song knotted the rope around a spur in the side of the rift while the others tossed their paddles up onto the ledge. Dippler was first up the rope. He and Song leaned over to help Burble, with Dann following in the rear. As soon as they were safe from the thundering waters, the four companions hauled the Swallow up to the rocky platform, with their supplies intact.

Dann sat panting, his back against the sunwarmed rocks. He patted the hilt of the sword. "Whew! Thanks to Friar Butty's rhyme an' this sword we made it. See that haze down yonder, beneath the rainbow? I'd take me oath that I saw a vision of Martin the Warrior hoverin' there. 'Twas he told me to shove the sword into the crack."

Song looked from the misted haze to the sword. "I don't doubt that you did, Dann. That blade must be some powerful kind of steel to hold a boat and us four safe from those waters. I dread t'think what would've happened to us if we'd been swept away between those two big rocks. I wonder what's down that way?"

Dippler was setting out a makeshift meal of scones and fruit. "Let's 'ave a bite to eat first. Then we'll toiler these ledges downstream an' see where the current leads."

Burble found a flask of dandelion and burdock cordial and swigged thirstily at it, massaging the back of his neck. "Aye, you three go off an' explore awhile. Yiss yiss, I'll stay 'ere an' guard our gear. Me ould neck's a bit sore. You didn't 'elp matters by leapin' all over me head'n'shoulders to get up on this ledge, missie, you serpintly didn't!"

Song helped the watervole to rub his neck. "Ah, poor old Burb. Never mind, mate, you'll live, but don't doze off now. Keep an eye on everything while we're gone."

When they had finished eating, Song, Dann and Dippler took the rope from the Swallow and set off across the rocks to explore downstream. The grandeur of the scenery was awesome: hurtling water, towering stone and spray forever cascading through curtains of mist, over which the rainbow arched like a massive colored bridge. Traveling in single file, they made good use of the rope to span places where there were gaps in the ledges. Sometimes they rested in somber moss-strewn crevices where sunlight never reached. Other times they pawed cautiously over expanses of smooth banded stone, almost hot to the touch. Just beyond the two big rocks that stood center stream, the mist cleared and they halted with gasps of wonderment at the sight.

It was as if they were standing at the very edge of the earth. Billowing, leaping, roaring, vast masses of water fell abruptly downward into the shrouding fog of boiling spray far below. Dippler clasped his friends' paws, eyes wide as he stared down into the hurtling chaos, his shouts almost lost in the reverberating din.

"Lookit that waterfall! Wooooooow!"

They sat on the rock edge, drenched with spray, watching the awesome majesty of the waterfall. Dann pointed to the far side, where the bank ran out a short distance underwater, forming an incredibly swift shallows. There was a great bird pacing up and down the bankside, watching the water intently.

"Great seasons, look at the size of that feller! What sort o' bird would you call him?"

Dippler had spent his life around waterways. Though he had only ever seen the species once before, it was unforgettable. "That's a fishin' eagle. 'Tis called an osprey!"

The bird had a white crown of plumage, and its underparts too were snowy white. A mask, dark brown, almost black, stretched around its savage golden eyes, spreading back over shoulders and wings; it had a heavy hooked beak and fearsome talons. Silently they watched it prowling the bank. It struck once, but came back without any catch. Song was puzzled. "Aren't they supposed to fly and swoop on the fish, Dipp?"

"Aye, that's what they usually do. Aha, look!"

The eagle struck the water again, but could not catch the fish it was chasing. It gave a shriek of temper and charged awkwardly into the water, one wing flapping to retain its balance. Dippler nodded knowingly. "It can't fly, see, keeps one wing close to its side. Musta been injured at some time, I reckon, Song."

The pretty young squirrelmaid was full of sympathy. "Oh, the poor bird. Imagine having big beautiful wings and not being able to use them. Oh, it's so sad to watch him!"

Dippler chuckled as he saw a brown trout leaping and squirming in the shallows as the osprey chased it.

"Pore bird? What about the pore fish, missie? Mind though, that trout's leadin' the eagle a merry dance. Mebbe it'll escape!"

As the Guosim shrew spoke, the trout gave a mighty leap and made it to deep water. The osprey was almost out of its depth. Squawking angrily, it stumbled and was swept into the wild lashing deeps.

Dippler put a paw over his eyes. "Nothin' we can do to save 'im now. That'n's a goner!"

Before the words had left his mouth Song was in action. Tying the rope hastily around her waist, she slung the end to Dann. "Hang on to this. I'm goin' after him!"

Dann grabbed the rope instinctively, shouting, "Song, no, you'll be killed!"

But the young squirrelmaid had already plunged into the roaring melee of waters.

Chapter 24

During the night the White Ghost's eerie sighing and wailing echoed ceaselessly around the Queen's bedchamber. Silth crouched in her bed, gaunt and hollow-eyed, her voice reduced to a hoarse croak from shouting for her guards.

"Oooooh, Silth, come to me, Siiiiiilth!"

There it was again. Silth buried her face in a satin coverlet, knowing it was not a dream. When she ventured to peep out, all the candles had sputtered and died. Only a single lantern remained burning on the bedside table. The room had become an ill-lit cavern of shifting shadows, drafts and breezes moving the silk wall hangings like fluttering shrouds. Silth's voice was a piteous whine. "Guards, help me, where are my guards?"

Spectral tones answered her desperate plea. "Gone, all goooooooone!"

Lantur beckoned Wilce out of the room from which she had been impersonating the White Ghost. "That's enough wailing for now, rat. There's no reason for any of the guards to be up here since I dismissed them for the night. But just in case anybeast tries to gain entrance, you stay at the head of the stairs and keep them away. Tell them the High Queen is very ill and any creature coming up here against my orders does so under pain of death. Got it?" Wilce nodded silently and went off about her task.

Lantur took up the tray she had prepared. It had two goblets upon it. One was Silth's own drinking vessel, beaten from fine gold, with her personal crest embossed on its stem. The other was a plain serviceable pewter type. Lantur made sure the Queen's goblet was on the far side of the tray as she carried it into the bedchamber. Silth cowered away from her, bunching the satin coverlet tight under her chin.

"Where are my guards? How long is it until morning light? The White Ghost has been haunting me again. Did you hear it? Well, did you? Speak, daughter."

Smiling benignly, Lantur perched upon the bed, placing the tray next to the lantern on the table. Her voice was that of a true Marlfox, sweet as honey and deadly as an adder's bite. She removed the coverlet gently from Silth's chin.