The Castle of Llyr

Chapter 13 The Ladder

WHY― THEY'RE GONE!" Taran quickly flashed the golden light about the chamber. "Every one of them!"

"Yes, yes," Gurgi cried. "No more shriekings and squeakings!"

"I can't say I'm unhappy about it," added the bard. "I get along well enough with mice, and I've always been fond of birds, but when you put the two together I'd just as soon avoid them."

"The bats may prove our best friends and surest guides," Taran said. "Rhun has struck on something. The bats have found a way out. If we can only discover it, we can follow them."

"Quite so," answered the bard, making a wry face. "First thing would be to turn into bats ourselves. Then, I daresay, we should have no difficulties."

Taran strode hurriedly from one end of the chamber to the other. He played the bauble's light over the walls, sending the beams upward to the sloping ceiling of rock, scanning each crevice and outcropping, but saw only a few shallow niches from which some ancient stone had fallen.

Again and again he swept the golden light around the cave. A fair, shadowy line seemed traced amid the stones high above him. He stepped back and studied it carefully. The shadow deepened, and Taran realized it marked a narrow ledge, a flaw in the rock. "There it is!" he called, holding the bauble as steadily as his trembling hands allowed. "There― you can barely make it out, the wall curves and hides it. But see where the rock seems to dip and break…"

"Amazing!" cried Rhun. "Astonishing! It's a passage, rightly enough. The bats have gone through it. Do you think we can?"

Setting the golden sphere on the ground, Taran strode to the rock face and sought to raise himself by grasping the slight ripples of stone; but the wall was too sheer, his hands slipped, clutched vainly for support, and he fell back before he had been able to climb his own height. Gurgi, too, attempted to scale the smooth surface. For all his agility, he did little better than Taran and he sank down, puffing and moaning.

"Just as I said," glumly remarked Fflewddur. "All we need is a few pairs of wings."

Taran had not ceased to stare at the high passageway taunting him with the promise of freedom beyond his reach. "We cannot climb the wall," he said, frowning, "but there may still be hope." His eyes turned from the distant ledge to the companions, then back again. "A rope would not help us, even if we had one. There is no means of securing it. But a ladder…"

"Exactly what we need," said Fflewddur. "But unless you're prepared to build one on the spot, we shouldn't waste our time grieving over something we don't have."

"We can build a ladder," Taran said quietly. "Yes. I should have seen it at once."

"What, what?" cried the bard. "A Fflam is clever, but you're going far beyond me."

"We can do it," replied Taran, "and need seek no further. We ourselves are the ladder."

"Great Belin!" shouted Fflewddur, clapping his hands. "Of course! Yes, we shall climb on each other's shoulders." He ran to the wall and measured it with a glance. "Still too high;" he said, shaking his head. "Even the topmost man would reach it with little to spare."

"But he would reach it, nevertheless," insisted Taran. "It is our only escape."

"His only escape," corrected the bard. "Whoever climbs out will shorten our ladder by that much. Our choice is hardly better than what Glew gave us," he added. "Only one of us can save himself."

Taran nodded. "It may be that he can drop a vine down to the others," he said. "In that way…" He stopped.

Glew's voice filtered into the chamber. "Is all well in there?" called the giant. "It's going splendidly out here. I've made everything ready. I hope you're not too upset. Would one of you mind stepping forward? Don't tell me which; I don't want to know. I'm as sorry as you are."

Taran turned quickly to the Prince of Mona. "I know their hearts and I speak for my companions. Our choice is taken. It is too late to hope to save us. Try to make your way to Caer Colur. Should Kaw find you, he will guide you there."

"I don't intend leaving anyone behind," replied Rhun. "If this is your choice, it is not mine. I shall not…"

"Prince Rhun," rI'aran said firmly. "Did you not put yourself under my orders?" The stone had begun to grate in the passageway and Taran could hear Glew's frantic snuffling. "This, too, you must take," he said, pressing the bauble into Rhun's reluctant hand. "It is rightfully Eilonwy's and it is you who shall give it back to her." He turned his eyes away. "May it shine brightly on your wedding day."

Gurgi had clambered to the shoulders of the bard, who braced himself against the wall. Rhun still hesitated. Taran seized him by the collar of his jacket and dragged him forward.

Taran climbed to Fflewddur's back, then to Gurgi's. The human ladder swayed dangerously. Under the weight of the companions, the bard cried for Rhun to hurry. Taran felt Rhun's hands grasp at him, then slip. From below came Gurgi's labored breathing. Taran clutched Rhun's belt and heaved upward, as one knee then the other was thrust upon his shoulders.

"The passage is too far," gasped Rhun.

"Stand up," Taran cried. "Steady. You're nearly there."

With a last effort, he forced himself to rise as high as he could. Rhun scrabbled at the ledge. Suddenly Taran's burden was lifted.

"Farewell, Prince of Mona," he called, as Rhun swung himself to the narrow outcropping and plunged into the passage.

Fflewddur cried a warning and Taran felt himself falling. Dazed and breathless on the stones, he tried to regain his feet. It was utterly dark. He staggered against the bard who pulled him from what Taran realized was the entry to the chamber. A rush of chill air told Taran that Glew had pushed the rock aside, and he sensed, rather than saw, a darker shadow thrust into the opening. Taran unsheathed his blade and swung it wildly. It struck something solid.

"Ah! Ow!" cried , Glew. "You mustn't do that!"

The arm pulled back suddenly. Taran heard Fflewddur draw his blade. Gurgi had scuttled to Taran's side and was throwing stones as fast as he could pick them up.

"We must stand against him now!" Taran cried. "We shall see whether he's as great a coward as he is a liar. Hurry! Give him no chance to shut us in again!"

Swords raised, the companions flung themselves out of the chamber. Somewhere, Taran knew, Glew towered above them; but in the blackness he dared not strike with his weapon, fearful of harming Gurgi or Fflewddur stumbling along next to him.

"You're spoiling it all!" wailed Glew. "I shall have to catch one of you myself. Why are you making me do this? I thought you understood! I thought you wanted to help me!"

Wind whistled over Taran's head as Glew snatched at him. He threw himself down among the sharp rocks. To one side he heard Fflewddur shout, "Great Belin, the little monster can see better in the dark than we can!" Until now the companions had clung together, but Taran's sudden movement had torn him away from the others. He groped to rejoin them and, at the same time, to escape Glew's frantic lunges.

He tumbled against a pile of stones that gave way with a clatter, and went sliding into a stream of noisome liquid.

Glew wailed in resounding despair. "Now you've done it! You ve upset my potions! Stop it, stop it, you're making a mess of everything!"

What must have been Glew's foot came stamping down nearly on top of him, as Taran lashed out with his sword. The blade rebounded in his hand, but Glew yelled horribly. Above Taran an almost invisible shadow seemed to be hopping on one leg. The bard was right, Taran thought in terror; the greatest risk from Glew lay in being trampled. The ground shook under the giant's feet and Taran leaped blindly from the sound.

Next thing he knew, he fell with a splash into one of the pools dotting the cavern. He thrashed wildly and flung out his arms, seeking a handhold on the rocky edge. The water glittered with a cold, pale light. As Taran scrambled out, bright, luminous droplets clung to his drenched garments, his face, hands, and hair. Escape for him was hopeless now; the glow would betray him wherever he sought refuge.

"Run!" Taran shouted to the companions. "Let Glew follow me!"

In one stride the giant was at the pool. By the light of his own dripping body, Taran could make out the huge shape. He thrust forward with his blade. The eager hand of Glew brushed it aside.

"Please, please, I beg you," cried Glew, "don't make things worse than they are! Even now I shall have to boil my potion again. Have you no consideration? No thought for anyone else?"

The giant reached to seize him. Taran raised his sword high above his head in a last futile gesture of defense.

Golden rays burst around him, brilliant as noonday.

With a scream of pain, Glew clapped his hands to his eyes. "The light!" he shrieked. "Stop the light!"

Screaming and roaring, the giant covered his head with his arms. His earsplitting bellows rang through the cave. The stone icicles trembled and crashed to earth; the crystals split and showered Taran with fragments. Suddenly Glew was no longer standing, but stretched full length, half covered by the shards, lying motionless where a falling crystal had glanced off his head. Taran, still dazzled, leaped to his feet.

At the entrance to the chamber stood Prince Rhun, the bauble blazing in his hand.