There really was no reason not to stay and pitch camp right there, but Puck led them away into the night nonetheless—he had some sense of mortals' feelings, and thought the children would feel a bit strange sleeping nearby. So he led them away into the dark, pricked here and there by shafts of moonlight. They were very quiet behind him and, after his own black mood had lightened a little, Puck tried to cheer them by singing an elfin tune. The eeriness of its halftones fitted with the gloom about them, but after a few verses, the children began to feel a sense of calm pervading them. The huge old twisted trees looked less like menacing monsters and more like kindly grandfathers, and the bits of moonlight that lay on their leaves looked like jewels. The vines draping loops from huge branches began to seem like bunting hung for a festival, and the dry leaves underfoot a multicolored carpet. Within the hour, the children found themselves walking through a faerie forest with a silver brook cutting across their path ahead, prattling happily as it danced over rocks. A gilded little bridge arched over it and Cordelia breathed, "What enchantment is this thou hast woven with thy song, Puck?"

"Only to let thee see what is truly there," the elf answered. "There is ever magic and wonder about thee, if thou wilt but open thine eyes to it." He set foot on the bridge, and so did Gregory behind him.

"Ho! Ho!" boomed a voice like an echo in a chasm, and two huge hands with long, knobby fingers slapped onto the side of the bridge.

"'Ware!" Puck shouted, stepping backward, but keeping his face toward the bridge. Gregory bumped back into Geof-frey, who dug in his heels and braced himself as Cordelia bumped into him. Magnus managed to stop short and mur-mured, "Then again, in forests of fantasy, fantastical creatures abide."

"Ho! Ho!" A great ugly head popped up over the edge of the bridge, with a thatch of shaggy hair like a bunch of straw, eyes like saucers, a lump of a nose, and a wide mouth that gaped to show pointed teeth. "Ho! Ho!" it cried again, and a spindle-shanked leg swung up, slamming down a huge flat foot. But the body that leaped up onto the bridge was only four-feet high, though the chest was a barrel and the shoulders were three-feet across. Its arms reached down to its ankles, and its hands were almost as wide as its head. It clapped them with a sound like a cannon shot. "Children! Yum!"

The children crowded back against each other. "What— what is it, Puck?"

"A troll," the elf answered. "They do live beneath bridges —and are always a-hungered."

The troll grinned, nodding. "Children! Soft, tender! Yum!" And it rubbed its belly.

"So I had thought," Puck said, tight-lipped, "Step back, children! Leave the span to the creature!"

They stepped back—except for Geoffrey. The boy stood like a rock, brow clouded. "I do wish to cross, Robin. What is this thing to gainsay me?"

"One who can rend thee limb from limb with those great hands," Puck snapped. "Stay not to argue, lad."

The troll chuckled deep in its throat and swaggered forward, flexing its hands and drooling.

"Canst thou not defeat it?" Geoffrey demanded.

"Belike," Puck answered, "and belike none will be hurted. Yet 'tis not certain, and I'd liefer not chance it."

"Thou not chance it?" Magnus scoffed. "Speak truly, Puck —what wouldst thou do, an we were not here?"

A gleam shone in Puck's eye. "Aye, an thou wert not here, I would soon have it dancing in rage the whiles it did try to catch me, and would have its head 'twixt its legs and its arms tied in knots, like enough! Yet thou art with me, and I've no wish to chance it! Now, back!"

Reassured, the children retreated, though reluctantly.

"No, no! Not get 'way," the troll cried, and came at them with a sudden rush.

The children leaped back with a cry, and Puck howled, " 'Ware!" A torch suddenly flared in his hand, thrusting up at the troll's nose. It squalled and leaped back, swatting at a burn spot on its loincloth. Puck stepped away, the torch disappear-ing, watching the troll warily.

It finished dousing the spark and looked back at him with huge, witless eyes, drooling and grinning as its glance flickered from child to child. It took a tentative step forward, then hesitated. "What if troll do? Children flee!" It pulled its foot back, shaking its head. "No, no! Mustn't go! Stay on bridge! Children have to cross, soon or late!" It relaxed, gazing from one child to another with a toothy grin. "Children have to cross!" Then it fell silent, totally at ease, watching, waiting.

After a little time, Cordelia asked, "Must we cross, Puck?"

"Assuredly we must!" Geoffrey answered. "And if the foul monster will not step aside for us, then we must needs remove it!" He stepped forward, hand on his dagger.

"Hold thy blade!" Puck's hand clamped on his. "I have told thee once I do not wish to fight! He who fights when he need not is either a fool or a knave!"

Geoffrey reddened, but held his place.

"Puck hath the right of it," Magnus acknowledged.

"But why dost thou speak of it?" Gregory asked, puzzled. "How can there be a question? Wherefore ought we fight for the bridge, when we need but fly over it?"

Geoffrey stared at Magnus, astonished. Magnus stared back, then grinned sheepishly. "What fools were we not to see it!"

"Aye," Cordelia agreed. "What banty roosters art thou, so intent on the challenge mat thou couldst not see a foot into the air?"

"And where were thy words, whilst we did debate it?" Geoffrey demanded. "Naetheless, the laddie hath the right of it. Up, folk, and fly!"

"But what of Fess?" Magnus said.

"Don't concern yourself with me," the great beast replied. "This creature would not find me a tasty morsel."

They drifted up into the night air, wafting across the stream. The troll howled in frustration. Geoffrey laughed and swooped low, taunting. The troll leaped, snatching at the boy's ankle. Geoffrey howled with dismay as the troll yanked him down with a chuckle, straight toward its great maw. The boy yanked his dagger free and bent to stab, while his siblings cried, "Geoffrey!"

"Be brave—we come!" And they all swooped back for him.

But a diminutive figure leaped up onto the troll's hand just as it was about to bite, a green-clad figure that howled, "Ye foul Sassenach! Would ye gobble up babes, then?" And it

struck with a small hammer, right on the blob of a nose. The troll howled and clapped a huge hand over its proboscis—and Geoffrey yanked his foot free, soaring upward, pale and trembling. Kelly hopped down off the troll's hand, a bit pale himself, and darted for the end of the bridge. The troll roared and stamped at him, but the elf was too quick, and vanished into the night.

"Bless thee, Kelly," Geoffrey cried.

"Aye, and bless thy stars, too," Puck snapped, right next to him in midair. "What possessed thee to taunt him so? Foolish boy, now get hence!"

Geoffrey's jaw tightened, but he obeyed without an argument for once, and swooped away after his brothers and sister.

Below, the troll watched him go, rubbing its nose and muttering to itself. Then a slow grin spread over its face, and it swaggered bandy-legged toward the far side of the bridge, chuckling deep in its throat, sniffing the night breeze and following the scent of the children.

As the trees closed behind them, Cordelia looked back. "Puck! The troll hath come off the bridge! It doth scent the night air… it doth follow our trace!"

Puck frowned, darting a quick look back. '"'Tis not the way of that kind. Then again, they're seldom so thwarted. Summer and Fall! These are thy woods; thou dost know them better than I. Where shall we find safe hiding?"