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jerks and skips like a may-fly. We never trouble to reckon it out. When Dhrun
left, he was, in your terms, perhaps nine years old."
Aillas stood silent.
"Please give me the pretty bauble," coaxed King Throbius, in the voice he
might use upon a skittish cow whose milk he hoped to steal.
"My position remains the same. Only when you give me my son."
"That is next to impossible. He departed some time ago. Now then" King
Throbius' voice became harsh "do as I command or never will you see your son
again!"
Aillas uttered a wild laugh. "I have never seen him yet! What have I to lose?"
"We can transform you into a badger," piped a voice.
"Or a milkweed fluff."
"Or a sparrow with the horns of an elk."
Aillas asked King Throbius: "You promised me your love and protection; now I
am threatened. Is this fairy honor?"
"Our honor is bright," declared King Throbius in a ringing voice. He nodded
crisply right and left in satisfaction, as his subjects called out
endorsement.
"In that case, I return to my offer: this fabulous gem for my son."
A shrill voice cried out: "That may not be, since it would bring good luck to
Dhrun! I hate him, most severely! I brought a mordet* on him."
*A unit of acrimony and malice, as expressed in the terms of a curse.
King Throbius spoke in the silkiest of voices: "And what was the mordet?"
"Aha, harrumf. Seven years."
"Indeed. I find myself vexed. For seven years you shall taste not nectar but
tooth-twisting vinegar. For seven years you will smell bad smells and never
find the source. For seven years your wings will fail you and your legs will
weigh heavy as lead and sink you four inches deep into all but the hardest
ground. For seven years you will carry all slops and slimes from the shee. For
seven years you will know an itch on your belly that no scratching will
relieve. And for seven years you will not be allowed to look upon the pretty
new bauble."
Falael seemed most distressed by the final injunction. "Oh, the bauble? Good
King Throbius, do not taunt me so! I crave that color! It is my most cherished
thing!"
"So it must be! Away with you!"
Aillas asked: "Then you will bring back Dhrun?"
"Would you take me into a fairy war with Trelawny Shee, or Zady Shee, or Misty
Valley Shee? Or any other shee which guards the forest? You must ask a
reasonable price for your bit of stone.
Flink!" "Here, sir."
"What can we offer Prince Aillas to fulfill his needs?"
"Sir, I might suggest the Never-fail, as carried by Sir Chil the fairy
knight."
"A happy thought! Flink, you are most ingenious! Go, prepare the implement, on
this instant!"
"On this instant it shall be, sir!"
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Aillas ostentatiously put his hand, with the gem, into his pouch. "What is a
'Never-fail'?"
Flink's voice, breathless and shrill, sounded beside King Throbius. "I have it
here, sir, after great and diligent toil at your order."
"When I require haste, Flink hurries," King Throbius told Aillas. "When I use
the word 'instant' he understands the word to mean 'now.'"
"Just so," panted Flink. "Ah, how I have toiled to please Prince Aillas! If he
deigns me only one word of praise, I am more than repaid!"
"That is the true Flink speaking!" King Throbius told Aillas. "Honest and fine
is Flink!"
"I am interested less in Flink than in my son Dhrun. You were about to bring
him to me."
"Better! The Never-fail will serve you all your life long, always to indicate
where Lord Dhrun may be found. Notice!" King Throbius displayed an irregular
object three inches in diameter, carved from a walnut burl and suspended from
a chain. A protuberance to the side terminated in a point ripped with a sharp
tooth.
King Throbius dangled the Never-fail on its chain. "You will note the
direction indicated by the white fairy-tooth? Along that slant you will find
your son Dhrun. The Never-fail is failureproof and warranted forever. Take it!
The instrument will guide you infallibly to your son!"
Aillas indignantly shook his head., "It points north, into the forest, where
only fools and fairies go. This Never-fail points the direction of my own
death or it may take me without fail to Dhrun's corpse."
King Throbius studied the instrument. "He is alive, otherwise the tooth would
not snap to direction with such vigor. As for your own safety, I can only say
that danger exists everywhere, for you and for me. Would you feel secure
walking the streets of Lyonesse Town? I suspect not. Or even Domreis, where
Prince Trewan hopes to make himself king? Danger is like the air we breathe.
Why cavil at the club of an ogre or the maw of an ossip? Death comes to all
mortals."
"Bah!" muttered Aillas. "Flink is fast on his feet; let him run out into the
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