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Fair Folk can be safe from Morda. He's the worst threat ever to fall upon our realm."
Doli sank back exhausted by his own outburst, and the companions glanced fearfully at each other.
"What his scheme is, I couldn't discover," Doli continued at last. "Oh, I tracked him to his hiding place
easily enough. He lives in a sort of enclosure not too far from here. I'd gone invisible, needless to say. But
it was making my ears buzz so much, worse than a pair of hornets' nests! In the darkness I thought I
could chance turning visible--- just for a moment, to escape that awful buzzing. Next thing I knew, there I
was, as you see me now.
"Morda could have crushed me then and there. Instead, he mocked my plight. It amused him to see a
helpless frog. Then he threw me down among the rocks. He savored my lingering agony more than the
mercy of killing me out of hand. He was sure I'd perish in these dry hills, withering little by little to my
death. And if by some chance I didn't--- what difference could it make? How could a frog hope to
prevail against a wizard? I crept away, trying to find water. I kept on until I could go no farther. Your cat
found me then. If she hadn't, I can tell you it would have been the end of me.
"One thing Morda forgot," Doli added, "one tiny thing he overlooked: I could still speak. I myself didn't
know it at the time. The shock of being turned into a frog quite took away my voice for a while."
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"Great Belin," murmured Fflewddur, "I've heard ofpeople having frogs in their throats, but never...
Forgive me, forgive me, old boy," he added quickly, as Doli glared at him. "I didn't mean to ruffle your
feelings."
"Doli, tell us what we must do," Taran cried, horror-stricken at the dwarf's account. It was not Doli's
plight alone that turned his blood cold; he saw clearly the fate in store for all the Fair Folk. "Lead us to
Morda. We'll try to take him prisoner, or slay him if we must."
"So we shall!" exclaimed Fflewddur, drawing his sword. "I'll not have my friends turned into frogs!"
"No, no!" shouted Gurgi. "Froggies are froggies, but friends are friends!"
"Attack Morda?" Doli replied. "Are you out of your heads? You'll end up in the same pickle as me. No,
you can't risk it. Eiddileg must be warned, but before that I must finish my task. Find out more of
Morda's powers and how he means to use them. There's no hope of Fair Folk standing against him
unless we know better what we have to deal with. Take me back to Morda's stronghold. Somehow I'll
get to the bottom of his scheme. Then carry me to a way post, so I can get word to Eiddileg and spread
the alarm."
A sudden-spasm convulsed him; for an instant Doli seemed about to choke, then a racking sneeze nearly
flung him out of the puddle. "Curse this dampness!" he sputtered. "Curse that black-hearted Morda! He's
given me all the bad points of being a frog and none of the good!" Doli began coughing violently. "Blast it!
Dow I ab losigg by voice! Bake haste! Bake haste! Pick be up. I'll show you the way. There's doe tibe
to waste!"
THE COMPANIONS HURRIEDLYmounted. With Doli clinging to his saddle horn, Taran galloped
where the dwarf commanded. But the forest thickened and slowed their pace, and often in the tangle of
branches they were forced to dismount and go afoot. Doli had assured them the distance was not great,
but his usually unfailing sense of direction had grown confused. At times the dwarf was uncertain which
path to follow, and twice the companions reined up and retraced their steps.
"Dote blade be!" snapped Doli. "I cabe over this ladd crawligg odd by belly. It's dot the sabe, seeigg it
frob up here."
To make matters worse, Doli began to shake and shudder. His eyes bleared; his nostrils streamed; and
even as a frog he looked altogether miserable. With constant fits of sneezing and coughing, Doli's voice
grew so hoarse he could barely force out a feeble, croaking whisper, which did nothing to improve the
state of his disposition or the clarity of his directions to Taran.
Until now there had been no sign of Kaw. When the companions had first hastened to follow Doli's
orders, the crow had chosen this of all moments to be exasperatingly disobedient. He flapped into the
woods, stubbornly refusing to heed Taran's pleas to come back. At last Taran left him behind, sure the
crow would rejoin them when he saw fit; but as the companions made their way deeper into the forest,
Taran had grown more anxious for the impudent bird. Thus, when they halted to set Doli on the
ground--- where the dwarf insisted he could better regain his bearings--- Taran was too relieved to scold
the crow when Kaw finally appeared. The prankster, Taran saw, had been up to his old tricks, for he
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bore some glittering find in his beak.
Squawking proudly, Kaw dropped the object into the surprised Taran's hands. It was the fragment of
polished bone.
"What have you done?" Taran cried in dismay, as Kaw, overweeningly pleased with himself, rocked
back and forth and bobbed his head.
"The jackanapes!" burst out Fflewddur. "He's gone back and rifled the coffer. I thought us well rid of
that enchanted toothpick, now we've got it again. A sour jest, you magpie!" he exclaimed, flapping his
cloak at the bird, who nimbly dodged away. "A Fflam is fun-loving, but I see no joke in this at all. Throw
it away," he urged Taran, "toss it into the bushes."
"I dare not, if indeed it's a thing of enchantment," Taran replied, though he felt as uneasy as the bard, and
heartily wished Kaw had left the coffer undisturbed. A strange thought, vague and unformed, stirred in his
mind, and he knelt, holding out the fragment to Doli. "What can this be?" he asked, after briefly telling
how the sliver had first come into their hands. "Could Morda himself have hidden it?"
"Who dose?" croaked Doli. "I've dever seed eddythigg like it. But it's edchadded, you cad be sure.
Keep it, id eddy case."
"Keep it?" cried the bard. "We'll have nothing but ill luck from the cursed thing. Bury it!"
Swayed by Fflewddur's vehemence yet reluctant not to follow Doli's counsel, Taran stood uncertain
what to do. At last, with strong misgivings, he tucked the fragment into his jacket.
Fflewddur groaned. "Meddling! We'll only gain trouble, mark my words. A Fflam is fearless, but not
when there's unknown enchantment lurking in someone's pocket."
As they pressed on Taran shortly came to believe he had decided wrongly and that Fflewddur's unhappy
prediction was well-founded. Doli had taken a turn for the worse; he could gasp no more than a word or
two at a time. The frog's body trembled as in the grip of a painful ague; a sickness, Taran was sure,
owing to Doli's grueling crawl overland. To keep his skin from parching, the companions drenched him
regularly; while the treatment, on the one hand, kept him alive, on the other it added to his misery. Under
the stream of water he sneezed, choked, and sputtered. Soon he sprawled listlessly, too feeble even to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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