roused to find himself shouting aloud. He settled down once more. Now there was a rasping sound under the straw.
Taran stumbled to his feet. The rasping grew louder.
“Move away!” cried a faint voice.
Taran looked around him, dumbfounded.
"Get off the stone?
He stepped backward. The voice was coming from the straw.
“Well, I can't lift it with you standing on it, you silly Assistant Pig-Keeper!” the muffled voice complained.
Frightened and puzzled, Taran jumped to the wall. The pallet began rising upward. A loose flagstone was lifted, pushed aside, and a slender shadow emerged as if from the ground itself.
“Who are you?” Taran shouted.
“Who did you expect?” said the voice of Eilonwy. “And please don't make such a racket. I told you I was coming back. Oh, there's my bauble...” The shadow bent and picked up the luminous ball.
“Where are you?” cried Taran. “I can see nothing...”
“Is that what's bothering you?” Eilonwy asked. “Why didn't you say so in the first place?” Instantly, a bright light filled the cell. It came from the golden sphere in the girl's hand.
Taran blinked with amazement. “What's that?” he cried.
“It's my bauble,” said Eilonwy. “How many times do I have to tell you?”
“But--- but it lights up!”
“What did you think it would do? Turn into a bird and fly away?”
Eilonwy, as the bewildered Taran saw her for the first time, had, in addition to blue eyes, long hair of reddish gold reaching to her waist. Her face, though smudged, was delicate, elfin, with high cheekbones. Her short, white robe, mud-stained, was girdled with silver links. A crescent moon of silver hung from a fine chain around her neck. She was one or two years younger than he, but fully as tall. Eilonwy put the glowing sphere on the floor, went quickly to Taran, and unknotted the thongs that bound him.
“I meant to come back sooner,” Eilonwy said. "But Achren caught me talking to you. She started to give me a whipping. I bit her.
“Then she locked me in one of the chambers, deep underground,” Eilonwy went on, pointing to the flagstones. “There are hundreds of them under Spiral Castle, and all kinds of galleries and little passages, like a honeycomb. Achren didn't build them; this castle, they say, once belonged to a great king. She thinks she knows all the passageways. But she doesn't. She hasn't been in half of them. Can you imagine Achren going through a tunnel? She's older than she looks, you know.” Eilonwy giggled. “But I know every one, and most of them connect with each other. It took me longer in the dark, though, because I didn't have my bauble.”
“You mean you live in this terrible place?” Taran asked.
“Naturally,” Eilonwy said. “You don't imagine I'd want to visit here, do you?”
“Is--- is Achren your mother?” Taran gasped and drew back fearfully.
“Certainly not!” cried the girl. “I am Eilonwy, daughter of Angharad, daughter of Regat, daughter of--- oh, it's such a bother going through all that. My ancestors,” she said proudly, “are the Sea People. I am of the blood of Llyr Half-Speech, the Sea King. Achren is my aunt, though sometimes I don't think she's really my aunt at all.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“I said I live here,” Eilonwy answered. “It must take a lot of explaining before you understand anything. My parents died and my kinsmen sent me here so Achren could teach me to be an enchantress. It's a family tradition, don't you see? The boys are war leaders, and the girls are enchantresses.”
“Achren is leagued with Arawn of Annuvin,” cried Taran. “She is an evil, loathsome creature!”
“Oh, everybody knows that,” said Eilonwy. “Sometimes I wish my kinsmen had sent me to someone else. But I think they must have forgotten about me by now.”
She noticed the deep slash on his arm. “Where did you get that?” she asked. “I don't think you know much about fighting if you let yourself get
Taran stumbled to his feet. The rasping grew louder.
“Move away!” cried a faint voice.
Taran looked around him, dumbfounded.
"Get off the stone?
He stepped backward. The voice was coming from the straw.
“Well, I can't lift it with you standing on it, you silly Assistant Pig-Keeper!” the muffled voice complained.
Frightened and puzzled, Taran jumped to the wall. The pallet began rising upward. A loose flagstone was lifted, pushed aside, and a slender shadow emerged as if from the ground itself.
“Who are you?” Taran shouted.
“Who did you expect?” said the voice of Eilonwy. “And please don't make such a racket. I told you I was coming back. Oh, there's my bauble...” The shadow bent and picked up the luminous ball.
“Where are you?” cried Taran. “I can see nothing...”
“Is that what's bothering you?” Eilonwy asked. “Why didn't you say so in the first place?” Instantly, a bright light filled the cell. It came from the golden sphere in the girl's hand.
Taran blinked with amazement. “What's that?” he cried.
“It's my bauble,” said Eilonwy. “How many times do I have to tell you?”
“But--- but it lights up!”
“What did you think it would do? Turn into a bird and fly away?”
Eilonwy, as the bewildered Taran saw her for the first time, had, in addition to blue eyes, long hair of reddish gold reaching to her waist. Her face, though smudged, was delicate, elfin, with high cheekbones. Her short, white robe, mud-stained, was girdled with silver links. A crescent moon of silver hung from a fine chain around her neck. She was one or two years younger than he, but fully as tall. Eilonwy put the glowing sphere on the floor, went quickly to Taran, and unknotted the thongs that bound him.
“I meant to come back sooner,” Eilonwy said. "But Achren caught me talking to you. She started to give me a whipping. I bit her.
“Then she locked me in one of the chambers, deep underground,” Eilonwy went on, pointing to the flagstones. “There are hundreds of them under Spiral Castle, and all kinds of galleries and little passages, like a honeycomb. Achren didn't build them; this castle, they say, once belonged to a great king. She thinks she knows all the passageways. But she doesn't. She hasn't been in half of them. Can you imagine Achren going through a tunnel? She's older than she looks, you know.” Eilonwy giggled. “But I know every one, and most of them connect with each other. It took me longer in the dark, though, because I didn't have my bauble.”
“You mean you live in this terrible place?” Taran asked.
“Naturally,” Eilonwy said. “You don't imagine I'd want to visit here, do you?”
“Is--- is Achren your mother?” Taran gasped and drew back fearfully.
“Certainly not!” cried the girl. “I am Eilonwy, daughter of Angharad, daughter of Regat, daughter of--- oh, it's such a bother going through all that. My ancestors,” she said proudly, “are the Sea People. I am of the blood of Llyr Half-Speech, the Sea King. Achren is my aunt, though sometimes I don't think she's really my aunt at all.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“I said I live here,” Eilonwy answered. “It must take a lot of explaining before you understand anything. My parents died and my kinsmen sent me here so Achren could teach me to be an enchantress. It's a family tradition, don't you see? The boys are war leaders, and the girls are enchantresses.”
“Achren is leagued with Arawn of Annuvin,” cried Taran. “She is an evil, loathsome creature!”
“Oh, everybody knows that,” said Eilonwy. “Sometimes I wish my kinsmen had sent me to someone else. But I think they must have forgotten about me by now.”
She noticed the deep slash on his arm. “Where did you get that?” she asked. “I don't think you know much about fighting if you let yourself get
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