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Though he himself had found it, he gave no joyous yelps of triumph. Instead, he sank deeper into the
straw and tried to make himself as small as possible.
"Yes, well, I suppose it is indeed," replied Fflewddur, swallowing hard. "On the other hand," he added
hopefully, "perhaps it is not. They did say they had a number of other cauldrons and kettles lying about. I
mean, we shouldn't want to make a mistake."
"It is the Crochan," Taran said. "I have dreamed of it. And even if I had not, I would know it still, for I
can sense the evil in it."
"I, too," murmured Eilonwy. "It is full of death and suffering. I understand why Gwydion wants to
destroy it." She turned to Taran. "You were right in seeking it without delay," Eilonwy added with a
shudder. "I'll take back all the things I said. The Crochan must be destroyed as soon as possible."
"Yes," Fflewddur sighed, "I'm afraid this is the Crochan itself. Why couldn't it have been a nice little
kettle instead of this ugly, hulking brute? However," he went on, taking a deep breath, "let's snatch it! A
Fflam never hesitates!"
"No!" cried Taran, putting out a hand to restrain the bard. "We dare not take it in broad daylight; and we
mustn't stay here or they'll know we've found it. We'll come back after nightfall with the horses and drag
it away. For now, we'd better keep to the shed and act as if nothing has happened."
The companions quickly returned to the shed. Once away from the Crochan, Gurgi regained some of his
spirits. "Crafty Gurgi found it!" he cried. "Oh, yes! He always finds what is lost! He has found piggies,
and now he finds a great cauldron of wicked doings and brewings! Kind master will honor humble
Gurgi!" Nevertheless, his face wrinkled with fear.
Taran gave Gurgi a comforting pat on the shoulder. "Yes, old friend," he said, "you have helped us more
than once. But I never would have imagined they'd have hidden the Crochan in an empty chicken roost,
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under a pile of dirty straw." He shook his head. "I'd think they'd want to guard it better."
"Not at all," said the bard. "They were very clever. They put it in one of the first places anybody would
look, knowing quite well it was so easy nobody would ever think of looking there."
"Perhaps," Taran said. He frowned. "Or perhaps," he added, unable to stifle the dread suddenly filling
him, "they meant us to find it."
IN THE SHEDthe companions tried to sleep, knowing the night to come would be one of hard and
dangerous labor. Fflewddur and Gurgi dozed briefly; Eilonwy huddled in her cloak with some straw piled
around her. Taran was too restless and uneasy even to close his eyes. He sat silently, in his hands a long
coil of rope he had taken from what little gear remained to the companions. They had decided to sling the
cauldron between the two horses and make their way from the Marshes into the safe shelter of the forest,
where they would destroy the Crochan.
No sign of life came from the cottage. At nightfall, however, a candle suddenly glowed in the window.
Taran rose quietly and moved stealthily out of the shed. Clinging to the shadows, he made his way to the
low building and peered in. For a moment he stood there, amazed, unable to move. Then he turned and
raced back to the others as quickly as he could.
"I saw them in there!" he whispered, rousing the bard and Gurgi. "They aren't the same ones at all!"
"What?" cried Eilonwy. "Are you sure you didn't stumble on a different cottage?"
"Of course I didn't," retorted Taran. "And if you don't believe me, go and look for yourself. They aren't
the same. There are three of them, yes, but they're different. One of them was carding wool; one of them
was spinning; and the third was weaving."
"I suppose, really," said the bard, "it passes the time for them. There's little enough to do in the middle of
these dismal bogs."
"I shall indeed have to see for myself," Eilonwy declared. "There's nothing so strange about weaving, but
beyond that I can't make any sense of what you say."
With Taran leading, the companions stole cautiously to the window. It was as he had said. Inside the
cottage three figures went about their tasks, but not one of them resembled Orddu, Orwen, or Orgoch.
"They're beautiful!" whispered Eilonwy.
"I've heard of hags trying to disguise themselves as beautiful maidens," murmured the bard, "but I've
never heard of beautiful maidens wanting to disguise themselves as hags. It isn't natural, and I don't mind
telling you it makes me edgy. I think we'd better seize the cauldron and be gone."
"I don't know who they are," said Taran, "but I fear they are more powerful than we could even guess.
Somehow we've fallen on something--- I don't know what. It troubles me. Yes, we must take the
cauldron as soon as we can, but we shall wait until they're asleep."
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"Ifthey sleep," said the bard. "Now that I've seen this, nothing would surprise me, not even if they hung
by their toes all night, like bats."
For a long time Taran feared the bard was right and that the enchantresses might not sleep at all. The
companions took turns watching the cottage and it was not until almost dawn that the candle finally
winked out. In an agony of waiting, Taran still delayed. Soon a loud snoring rose from within.
"They must have gone back to themselves again," remarked the bard. "I can't imagine beautiful ladies
snoring like that. No, it's Orgoch. I'd recognize that snort anywhere."
In the still shadows of the false dawn the companions hastened to the chicken roost where Eilonwy
ventured to light her bauble.
The Crochan squatted in its corner, black and baleful.
"Hurry now," Taran ordered, taking hold of the handle. "Fflewddur and Eilonwy, pick up those rings;
and Gurgi, lift the other side. We'll haul it out and rope it to the horses. Ready? All lift together."
The companions gave a mighty heave, then nearly fell to the ground. The cauldron had not moved.
"It's heavier than I thought," said Taran. "Try again." He made to shift his grip on the handle. But his
hands would not come free. In a spurt of fear, he tried to pull away. It was in vain.
"I say," muttered the bard, "I seem to be caught on something."
"So am I!" Eilonwy cried, struggling to tear her hands loose.
"And Gurgi is caught!" howled the terrified Gurgi. "Oh, sorrow! He cannot move!"
Desperately the companions flung themselves back and forth, fighting against the mute, iron enemy.
Taran wrenched and tugged until he sobbed for lack of strength. Eilonwy had dropped in exhaustion, her
hands still on the heavy ring. Once again, Taran strained to break free. The Black Crochan held him fast.
A figure in a long night robe appeared at the doorway.
"It's Orddu!" cried the bard. "We'll be toads for sure!"
Chapter 14
The Price
ORDDU, BLINKING SLEEPILYand looking more disheveled than ever, stepped inside the chicken
roost. Behind her followed the other two enchantresses, also in flapping night robes, their hair unbound
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