Willow by Wayland Drew Page B

a bed of moss, lay the child.
    “Thank goodness!” Willow said. He started forward to take her up, but Cherlindrea’s brilliance suddenly intensified and he fell back. “The child is well, Willow Ufgood, and you may hold her. But first, hear what I say.”
    “H-how did you know my name?”
    “Elora told me. Elora has told me all about you.” The light subsided, and Willow saw that Cherlindrea was gazing at the child adoringly. “Elora Danan. She is a very special child, Willow. She is the daughter of the sun and the moon, and the rightful empress of all kingdoms.”
    “Then you will look after her?”
    “Oh yes. We all must look after her.”
    “And we can go home, Meegosh and I.”
    “Meegosh may go. We shall see that he has safe escort home. But your journey has just begun, Willow Ufgood.”
    “But, please, you don’t understand. I want to go back to my family. I’m worried about them. They need me!”
    “Elora needs you. That is even more important. She has chosen you to be her guardian on the journey she must make.”
    “Chosen me! But how could she? She’s an infant.”
    Cherlindrea laughed. “A very special infant.” Her light glowed brighter, and Willow shielded his eyes. With a gentle motion, she raised the baby off her bed of moss and floated her toward Willow, laughing. He took her into his arms. Sparkling light touched the inside of the child’s elbow. “She has the Sign, you see.” Then for a moment Cherlindrea fragmented and vanished, and the glade was lit only by the soft glow of moonlight and the dancing radiance of the other fairies. When she returned she was carrying a wand, like a crooked twig.
    “Now, Meegosh,” Cherlindrea said, “the time has come for you to part from your friend and begin your journey home. I must give Willow his instructions and tell secrets that are for him alone. You are a good friend, Meegosh. You have served loyally, and you shall be rewarded.”
    “Must I go?”
    “Yes, you must.”
    “But will it . . . be dangerous for Willow?”
    “Very dangerous.”
    “Then why . . .”
    The radiance throbbed. Meegosh covered his eyes. “All right. I’m sorry.”
    Willow took his friend’s hand. “Good-bye, Meegosh. Thank you.”
    “Willow, I don’t think you really have to do this. The High Aldwin . . .”
    Willow glanced down at the smiling child. “If I don’t do it, who will?”
    “Well,” Meegosh sighed, “be careful, then.”
    Willow nodded. “You must tell Kiaya and the children that I love them. And Meegosh, tell them we had a nice trip. Tell them the country around the Daikini crossroads is very pretty. Don’t tell them what it’s really like.”
    Meegosh laughed. “I won’t have to with Burglekutt around. Everything will be twice as big and twice as scary as it really
    “Look after them, Meegosh.”
    “I will.”
    “Promise?”
    “Promise. Round the bend!”
    “Round the bend.”
    “He’s a donkey . . .”
    “I’m your friend.” Willow hesitated a moment, grinning. Their childish ritual brought good memories flooding back—memories of long summery days spent fishing along the shadowy banks of the Freen; memories of days when there were no urgencies, no responsibilities, no terrors; memories of boyhood.
    He watched Meegosh head south into the forest, a little cloud of fairies surrounding him.
    “He will be well looked after,” Cherlindrea said. “Now, Willow Ufgood, your way lies to the north, where you must take Elora Danan.”
    “North! Even beyond the Daikini crossroads?”
    “Far beyond. You must travel the old road. You must take this child to Tir Asleen.”
    “Tir Asleen!” Willow sat down suddenly. “Do you mean there really is a Tir Asleen?”
    “Oh, yes.”
    “But I thought . . . I thought . . .”
    “You thought it was only legend.”
    Willow nodded.
    “No, Willow. Tir Asleen is real. You must take Elora Danan safely there. And you must take something else, as well.”
    “But what? Why ?”
    “Ah,” the