When the troll came blundering and bellowing to the grotto, they were ready for it.
It followed their trail up to the hole in the vines, went on past it, slowed, stopped, and looked around, confused. Then a grin split its face, and it turned to swagger back, sniffing as it went. As it came to the hole in the vines, its grin widened, and it shouted, "Aho!" It bent over, sniffing from side to side, then turned toward the hole with a chuckle. It stepped forward…
And blundered into an invisible wall.
The troll stepped back, frowning, but whatever it had come against clung to it and it swatted around trying to bat the substance away. But the effort was for naught, and it bellowed in anger, kicking and thrashing.
"It is wrapped in the spiders' webs," Geoffrey reported.
"Small wonder, when there were a thousand of mem, one on top of another," Magnus answered. "Now, 'Delia, lead us. Think, brother."
Geoffrey glared at the troll, but his mind concentrated on Cordelia's thoughts.
Cordelia was thinking of birds—many birds. Sparrows, robins, bluebirds, crows—hundreds of them. Magnus picked up on the sparrows, imagining a horde of mem as vividly as he could. Geoffrey took robins, lots of robins, flocking together to practice flying south for the winter.
The troll roared in full anger now, struggling with more and more strength but less and less effect. As it struggled, bits of it began to flake off against the spider webs, taking on independent life, wriggling through the holes the troll tore in its invisible cocoon, clawing loose and fluttering away into the night.
"'Tis even as Puck thought!" Geoffrey cried. The troll is a thing made of witch-moss!" And he redoubled his efforts, glaring furiously at the monster.
The birds were fluttering out of the churning chrysalis by the dozens now—robins, sparrows, and bluebirds flying away, huge crows flapping into the night with cawing cacophony that masked the troll's shrunken, high-pitched roaring— and as they fluttered away, the thrashing shape grew smaller and smaller.
Finally, it was small enough to crawl through one of the holes it had torn—and a foot-high troll came waddling and tumbling down the side of the grotto wall with roars that sounded like a kitten's mew.
"Eh, the poor thing!" Cordelia said, and her vision of blue-birds vanished like a soap bubble. She leaped up, arms out-stretched—but Puck caught at her skirt. "Nay, lass! Small it may be, yet 'tis even now a vicious, voracious monster! Hold out thy hand to it and it will take thy wrist with its teeth!"
"Think, brother!" Magnus commanded, and Geoffrey obeyed with a will. As Cordelia watched, appalled, the troll's form blurred like a wax doll too close to the fire. The colors of its face, hair, and body flowed, blending into an even pinkish mass which still wobbled toward them, pinching in the middle, dividing, splitting apart. Then each half stretched, darkening, and slabs of its substance shelved out, moving up and down, as its form coalesced and hardened—and a crow flew away into the night, cawing. A sparrow hopped after it, chirping.
Then the grotto lay empty, and silent.
Cordelia stared, eyes huge and tragic.
"Do not feel guilt, sister," Geoffrey snapped. "It would have eaten thee, an it could have."
" 'Twas never a thing of its own," Puck pointed out, "for it had no mind—only an impulse, a blind, clawing need. 'Twas born of an old wife's delight in a children's tale, and had no more substance than a fevered dream."
"'Tis almost as though it had never been," Cordelia whispered.
"Never think it!" Geoffrey insisted, and Magnus nodded, his face hard. "It would have bitten thee with teeth hard and sharp, and devoured thee with an actual hunger. 'Twas real enough, sister—real enough."
Chapter 11
It was still dark when Kelly shook them, one by one, calling softly, "Wake. The sun rises over the pastureland, children, even though ye see it not. We must begin the day's journey. Wake!"
The children rolled over with an assortment of groans. "But we were awake so late last night, Kelly," Gregory pleaded.
"And 'twas quite wearying," Geoffrey seconded.
"Wearying! Sure and I thought ye did love a good fight!"
"I do," the boy yawned, "yet 'tis wearying nonetheless.!'
"Wherefore ought we to wake, when Puck doth not?" Magnus groused.
"He rose up before ye, and went ahead to spy out the countryside. Ye'll not go unwarned into danger again, says he! So come, awake!"
"Let me sleep a bit more," Cordelia murmured, burrowing her head back into her rolled-cape pillow.
But a velvet nose nuzzled her cheek, and she looked up to see the unicorn standing over her, silver in the dark. With a glad cry, she leaped up to throw her arms about the creature's neck.
The boys rose more slowly, but with much chivying, Kelly managed to persuade the children to wash. With a splash of cold water on their faces and a double handful of wild berries in their stomachs, they felt bright enough to trudge out of the forest.
They came into pastureland, and the cool, moist air, coupled with the sight of the early sun, raised their spirits enough so that they began singing as they wended their way down a cow-track, with Fess, who had finally found them again after their adventure with the troll, trudging contentedly behind them. Geoffrey even felt lively enough to fly a few. feet every other bar.
At the top of his third flight, he suddenly fell silent and
dropped back to earth hissing, "Hush! 'Tis four hulking thieves, or I mistake quite!"
Gregory bobbed up to take a look, but Magnus caught him by the ankles and hauled him back down. "Nay! If there be evil men, it most becomes children to be unseen and unheard!"
They went forward in silence, stealing into the hedgerow at the edge of the field and peeking out. They saw a dusty road. Off to their right, it met another such track to form a cross-road, marked by a huge stone cross. To their left, four beefy men came swaggering along, guffawing and bellowing.
"Eh, but didn't he run, though!"
'"Twas well for him, or we'd have left his carcass for crow-meat!"
"Nay, nay! We could ha' guv him as fancy a funeral as any village priest!"
"Surely we could have—he'd paid dearly enough for it." The biggest man chortled and held up a leather bag as big as his head.
"Aye," growled the shortest and most burly man, "yet we've not split it up into shares! And if I don't have mine soon, Borr, 'tis your corpse we'll bury, not his!"
Anger sparked in the eyes of the man called Borr, but he managed to smother it under a cardboard smile. "Eh, now! Would I cheat ye, Morlan?"
"Only an I did let ye," Morlan rumbled.
The anger glinted in Borr's eyes again, but he managed to keep the smile in place. "Why, comrade! Never would I! 'Tis only that we did need to be far enough from the ambush, lest that fat merchant might summon the Reeve!"
"So ye said," one of the other thugs growled, "but we're far enough now."
"Aye." Morlan pointed at the stone cross. "Yon's Arlesby Cross. 'Tis two miles we've come. Is that not enough?"
"Aye, 'tis indeed!" Borr agreed. "And there's the offering-stone before the rock! Others may leave food for the fairies on it—but 'tis in my mind 'twill make an excellent counting-table for us! Come, comrades!"
The four men strolled up to the cross.
They are robbers! Gregory thought.
Thieves, who've robbed a fat merchant, Geoffrey agreed.
'Tis outrage! Cordelia's thoughts were fiery. What harm had that poor man done them?
Ask rather, who would harm them for robbing him? Geoffrey retorted.
Magnus set his hand on his dagger.
A small hand grasped his thumb with an iron grip. "Nay!" Kelly hissed. "Ye cannot save the poor merchant now—his gold's already stolen!"
"We might return it to him," Magnus pointed out.
" 'Tis not worth hazarding yerselves!"
" 'Tis no hazard," Geoffrey grated.