The Castle of Llyr by Lloyd Alexander Page A

Taran warned.
    Glew, for the moment, seemed to have no wish to harm them. Instead, evidently pleased by the consternation he had wrought among the companions, he was looking down at them with an expression of satisfaction all the more intense because it was so large. But until he had learned more of this strange creature, Taran had deemed it wiser to say nothing of their search.
    â€œLlyan?” Glew quickly asked. “What do you know of Llyan?” Since Rhun had already spoken, Taran had no choice but to admit the companions had stumbled upon Glew’s hut. Disclosing no more than he had to, Taran told of finding the recipes for the potions. Whether Glew would take kindly to strangers rummaging among his possessions, Taran did not know; to his relief, the giant showed less concern about that than he did for the fate of the mountain cat.

    â€œOh, Llyan!” cried Glew. “If only she were here. Anything to keep me company!” At this he buried his face in his hands and the cavern echoed with his sobs.
    â€œNow, now,” said Fflewddur, “don’t take on so. You’re lucky you weren’t gobbled up.”
    â€œGobbled?” sniffed Glew, raising his head. “Better if I had been! Any doom rather than this miserable cavern. There’s bats, you know. They’ve always terrified me, swooping and squeaking in that nasty way they have. Crawly white worms come popping their heads out of the rocks and stare at you. And spidery things! And things that are just—just things! They’re the worst. It’s enough to curdle your blood, I tell you! The other day, if I may call it day for all the difference it makes down here …”
    The giant bent forward. His voice dropped to a roaring whisper, and he appeared eager to recount these happenings at great length.
    â€œGlew,” Taran interrupted, “we pity your plight, but I beg you, show us a way out of the cavern.”
    Glew rocked his huge, scraggly head from side to side. “Way out? I’ve never stopped looking for one. There isn’t any. Not for me, at least.”
    â€œThere must be,” insisted Taran. “How did you find your way into the cave in the first place? Please, show us.”
    â€œFind my way?” replied Glew. “I should hardly call it a question of finding. It was Llyan’s fault. If only she hadn’t broken from her cage the one time my potion was working so well. She chased me out of my hut. Ungrateful of her, but I forgive her. I still had the flask in my hand. Oh, how I wish I’d thrown the wretched potion
away! I ran as fast as I could, with Llyan after me.” Glew patted his forehead with a trembling hand and blinked sorrowfully. “I’ve never run so fast and so far in my life,” he said. “I still dream of it, when I’m not dreaming of worse. Finally, I found a cave and into it I went.
    â€œI hadn’t a moment to spare,” continued Glew, sighing heavily. “I swallowed the potion. Now that I’ve had time to think it over, I realize I shouldn’t have. But it had made Llyan so much bigger, I thought it would do the same for me, so I might have a chance against her. And so it did,” he added. “In fact, it worked so quickly I nearly broke my crown on the ceiling of the cave. And I kept on growing. I had to squeeze along as fast as I could, going farther and farther downward always looking for bigger chambers, until I ended here. By then, alas, no passage was wide enough to let me out.
    â€œI’ve thought a great deal about it since that unhappy day. I often look back on it,” Glew went on. He half closed his eyes and peered into the distance, lost in his own recollections. “I wonder now,” he murmured, “I wonder now if …”
    â€œFflewddur,” Taran whispered in the bard’s ear, “is there no way we can make him stop talking and show us one of the passages? Or should we