It was a long time before Gary Leger opened his eyes again. He was tangled up with Kelsey, hanging in a net supported by poles slung over the shoulders of two trolls. The first thing that struck Gary, aside from the throbs of a terrible headache, was the condition of his captors, for the trolls, though victorious, had not come away unscathed. There were six of them now, not seven, and each one of these showed fresh and vicious battle scars. The one carrying the net up front was missing fingers on its right hand; the one behind Gary had a bandage wrapped about his head, angled to cover one eye.

Trolls flanked the net on either side. Gary recognized the one to his left, walking gingerly, as the one who had caught his spear between the legs. The troll across on the right sported an even more pronounced limp and it reached down often to clutch its kneecap. The remaining two monsters walked up front, along with a scrawny goblin. From his tangled position, Gary couldn't see this group very well, but he noticed that one of the trolls carried a large sack, which it banged against a tree whenever they passed one along the side of the road. From the sputtering, cursing, and thrashing that inevitably erupted from inside the sack after each hit, Gary soon understood that Geno's ride was even less pleasant than his own.

"We didn't win, huh?" he groaned as soon as he felt able to speak. His mouth felt as though it had been stuffed with cotton and his throat was sorely parched. How long had he been out?

Kelsey twisted about, which turned Gary's leg in a very uncomfortable way.

"We fared better than most against the likes of trolls!" the proud elf growled angrily.

"'Ere, shut yer mouth!" snarled the troll behind, and it shook the poles roughly, jostling the net. Scratchy cords dug at Gary from every angle, finding creases in his armor and cutting at his skin.

"At least Mickey got away," Gary whispered hopefully after a few minutes had passed.

Kelsey shook his head. "He did not," the elf explained. "The large troll up front has him."

"Earl's got 'im!" snarled the troll on the right, having overheard. "In his pocket. Even the little trickster won't get outa Earl's pocket!"

The troll behind gave another rough shake on the poles and Gary fell silent, feeling thoroughly miserable. Was he to be cooked in a large pot? And what would death in this land of Faerie mean back in the real world? Gary had heard that people who died in their dreams really did die, from the shock. He had never believed that, but he wasn't anxious to try out the theory.

And worse still, Gary absolutely did not believe this adventure to be a dream. The little details, like the rope now digging at the back of his knee, were too complete and too real - and how long could a dream last anyway? Were these trolls, then, hospital attendants, the proverbial "men in white coats"?

Gary shook the absurd thoughts away, replaced them with his heartfelt belief that all of this was as it seemed, that he was actually in this magical land of Faerie.

Talk about your absurd thoughts!

The trolls bumped along at a great pace - even wounded trolls could cover wide expanses with their long-legged strides - across the rolling plain region, through a small wood, and then over many more miles of open lands. They set no camp, ran right through the night, and the next morning, they went up into yet another mountain region. Gary, lost though he was, was certain that these peaks were not part of Dvergamal, though. They were less jagged and foreboding, though rugged enough.

"Penllyn," Kelsey muttered grimly, and the name meant something to Gary, though he couldn't exactly place it. Kelsey fell silent as the trolls lumbered on, through tight passes, through a tunnel once, and over ridges that Gary would have spent half an hour climbing, but that the trolls merely stepped across. Poor Geno continued to get the worst of it. At one point, the troll carrying him dropped the sack to the ground and jerked and dragged it along with a lead rope, purposely bouncing it among the sharpest stones while the troll and its companions shared a wicked laugh.

Geno kept up his muffled stream of stubborn curses throughout the ordeal, promising retribution and revealing no pain.

"Gwydrin! Gwydrin!" Geek the goblin squealed a short while later. The trolls got noticeably nervous at the proclamation, but it was Kelsey, up tight against Gary, who seemed the most afraid, more afraid than Gary had ever seen him.

"What is Gwydrin?" Gary whispered, but the elf offered no reply.

The troupe came around a jutting stone then, and a wide mountain lake spread before them, reflecting the surrounding peaks on its crystalline surface. In the middle, far away and barely visible, loomed an island that, despite its tiny size, filled Gary with dread. Somehow he knew that to be their destination, as though the island itself was emanating some evil, beckoning energies.

"Gwydrin!" Geek squealed again. He rushed down to the shoreline and led the trolls to several small craft hidden in tall weeds.

"Puts them in the boatses," Geek squeaked. "We takes them to the Lady."

"Where's me pay, goblin thing?" croaked Earl, casting a not-so-fond stare at the rowboats - small boats indeed by a troll's estimation!

"Lady pays," Geek promised.

"Goblin pays!" Earl corrected. "Or Earl eats goblin!"

"Two hundreds?" Geek replied squeamishly.

"Ten thousands, ye says!" howled the seven-fingered troll, dropping its end of the net with a thump. Geek shied away from the brute but had nowhere to run.

"Yeah," added Earl, poking the goblin in the back hard enough to send him flat to his face. "An' a millions sheeps!" Earl reached down and grabbed poor Geek up by the head, giving him just a little shake for the fun of it. "Where's me sheeps?"

The goblin didn't even try to fight back. Earl's hand fully covered Geek's head and he knew well that one little squeeze from the mighty troll would pop his skull.

There came a shriek from far out on the lake, the cry of a large bird. Trolls and captives alike watched a black speck soaring high into the clear sky, growing larger as it sped towards them. The great black bird went into a curl-winged stoop, plummeting for the glassy surface of the mirror lake. At the last second, it leveled out and let its momentum carry it quickly to the shore, where it landed right before Earl and his captive.

"What's...," Earl started to say, but he was interrupted by a sudden and blinding flash of light. When the big troll's vision returned, Lady Ceridwen stood before him, cold and stern and incredibly beautiful in her shimmering black gown.

"What's...," Earl started to say again, but truly the troll forgot what it wanted to ask and the words stuck in its throat.

"Good," purred Ceridwen. "You have brought them alive." She looked more closely at Kelsey and Gary, trying to fathom if any more forms were caught up in that tangle of ropes and limbs. Then she looked to the large sack and the blood staining its side.

As if on cue, the troll holding the bag gave a quick shake and Geno set into bitching again.

"And the leprechaun is in there as well?" Ceridwen asked.

"'E's in me pocket," grumbled Earl, growing more suspicious and less impressed by the moment.

"Alive?"

"Fer me to know," Earl retorted. "And fer yous to find out when ye pays me me gold and sheeps!"

"Two hundred gold and two dozen sheep," Ceridwen offered.

"Ten thousands, 'e says!" Earl corrected, poking Geek hard.

"An' a millions shee - " the seven-fingered troll started to assert, but Ceridwen's icy gaze froze the words in its mouth.

Ceridwen looked sternly at her goblin slave. "A hundred gold and a dozen sheep was my bargain," she explained, as much to the terrified goblin as to the trolls. "Twice that if they are all alive. That was my offer; that remains my offer."

The trolls blustered and grumbled, each looking to the other to make the first move against the impertinent witch. Ceridwen's reputation was not something to be taken lightly, though, not even for a group of mountain trolls.

"Ten thousands!" one of the monsters, the one Gary had stuck, growled finally. "Or we eats yous all!" The troll took one step towards Ceridwen, but the witch uttered a simple phrase, and the troll found itself hopping instead of walking.

"She turned 'im into a rabbit!" the seven-fingered blusterer peeped. Indeed, where a moment before had stood a twelve-foot-tall mountain troll now sat a lop-eared bunny-troll, no bigger than Earl's fat thumb.

Gary blinked in sheer amazement as the trolls grumbled and milled about in confusion. The monsters were not amused.

But neither were they making any moves towards the raven-haired witch.

"Is the leprechaun alive?" Ceridwen asked Earl again.

Earl shoved his hand into a pocket and pulled out a very shook-up, but very alive, Mickey McMickey. Earl held the stunned leprechaun high between his thumb and index finger and gave Mickey a rough shake, telling him to "Squeak out."

Mickey couldn't find the words to respond and Earl went to shake him again, but Ceridwen stopped the troll with an outstretched palm. "Two hundred pieces of gold and two dozen plump sheep," the witch agreed.

"Ten...," the seven-fingered troll started to complain, but a look from Earl and its three other remaining companions put an end to that.

"We gets to keep the dwarf?" Earl asked. "Me friends be wantin' a pie."

"Keep the dwarf," Ceridwen replied, and Earl smiled wide. Nothing tasted better than dwarf pie, after all, not even two dozen plump sheep.

But then the witch abruptly changed her mind, considering the benefits of having the finest smithy in all the world at her disposal, a prisoner on her island. "I take the dwarf," she insisted.

Gary knew what was coming, but he cringed anyway when Earl begged on, "We keeps the man?"

"Oh, no," Ceridwen said. "Not the man, nor the elf, nor the leprechaun, I am afraid."

"What about me pie?" Earl grumbled.

Ceridwen thought for a moment, cast a look at Geek that made the goblin faint dead away, then came up with a solution. "Rabbits make fine pies," she offered.

With typical troll loyalty, the four monsters behind Earl fell murderously over the lop-eared troll-bunny.

"Not big enough!" grumbled the seven-fingered troll, and a moment later, it, too, found itself hopping along the ground zigging and zagging desperately to get away from greedy troll hands.

"Big enough now?" Ceridwen asked Earl when the second troll-bunny was at last scooped up by its floppy ears, kicking wildly.

Earl blanched, managed a smile, and nodded stupidly.

Ceridwen snapped her fingers and two boats drifted out from the weeds. "Put the prisoners in the square one," she instructed. The trolls looked all around, waiting again for another to take the lead.

"Now!" Ceridwen cried, and the monsters fell all over themselves getting to the prisoners. Geno went flying in first with a crash, followed by Gary and Kelsey, and finally Mickey, who managed to produce an umbrella at the last second to slow his descent.

Ceridwen waved her hand, and lines of blue light, a magical cage, shot up around the boat's perimeter.

"And put their equipment in the other boat," Ceridwen said.

Earl shrugged, quite a heave for the square-shouldered giant, as if he did not understand. "Equip - ?" the troll stuttered, hoping to get away with the precious items.

"Hop, hop," Ceridwen promised. A sword, two shields, a spear, a leather case, assorted packs, and a dozen hammers went flying into the boat.

"And be throwin' in the trickster's hat!" Ceridwen heard herself say, though it was neither her thought nor her voice. Before she could say anything, Earl flipped Mickey's tam-o'-shanter into the boat.

Ceridwen's icy-blue eyes flashed in Mickey's direction, but the sprite only shrugged in reply and the witch's visage softened, revealing almost admiration for the clever trick.

The companions didn't even try to get out of their boat prison as Geek towed them far out on the lake.

"Caught again," Geno grumbled. "And now I am working for that wretched witch."

"The burdens of fame," Mickey put in, drawing a scowl from the dwarf.

"We'll not be long on Ceridwen's isle," Kelsey vowed.

Gary let them ramble on without him, more interested in the island. A castle sat upon it, walls glistening in the sunlight as though they were made of glass. Gary sat and stared at the magnificent structure for a long while, mesmerized by the beauty.

"The Isle of Glass," Mickey explained, shifting beside him.

"Ynis Gwydrin," Gary replied offhandedly. Only Mickey's sudden startled movement reminded the young man that his knowledge of the place was unexpected.

"Where'd ye hear of it?" the leprechaun asked.

"Folktale," Gary replied. "I must have read it in some book. It's like many of the things and places around here, yourself included." Gary's brow crinkled as he tried to sort it all out, his green eyes reflecting the sparkle of the glistening waters of Loch Gwydrin.

"The names are strange to me," he explained after some time, "but I know that I've heard them before." He looked to Mickey for answers. "Does that make any sense?"

"Aye," Mickey replied, to Gary's relief. "Many from yer own world have crossed to Faerie and returned with 'folktales,' as ye call them."

"And Penllyn," Gary went on. "That name, too, is familiar, but I think it is an actual place in my world."

"Not to doubt," replied the leprechaun. "Many are the places that share borders, and many more that share names, between Faerie and yer own world, though not nearly as many as there used to be. 'Tis a sad thing."

"And what have you heard of Ynis Gwydrin?" Kelsey asked, hearing the conversation.

"Just the name, that I can recall," Gary answered. "And that it was an enchanted place."

"Isan enchanted place," Mickey corrected. "But not as it used to be. The isle is Ceridwen's now, and that's not a good thing for the likes o' me and yerself."

"We'll not be long on Ceridwen's isle!" Kelsey said again, more forcefully, but the vow seemed lost on all of them at that moment, for Geek's boat had already scraped bottom and the dreary beach loomed just a dozen feet away.

Ceridwen met them as they landed. With a wave of her delicate hand, both boats climbed right up on the sand. A second wave brought down the cage of blue light, and the companions filtered out onto the shore.

"Welcome to Ynis Gwydrin, Kelsenellenelvial Gil-Ravadry," the witch said with a polite curtsy. "You may retrieve your belongings; the isle is yours to enjoy."

"You would give me my sword?" the elf asked suspiciously.

"It won't be bringing her harm," Mickey explained. "No weapon forged by mortal hands, even elvish hands, can wound Lady Ceridwen."

"How true," purred the witch. "And how convenient for me!"

Kelsey said nothing, but thought of the many ways in which he might cause havoc on Ynis Gwydrin and escape the island. Ceridwen smiled as though she had read the elf's thoughts. In a burst of movement, she twirled about and waved her arms, her voice crackling as she cried:

"Elf and dwarf and man and sprite

By any day and any night

If you swim the water blue

As acid it will be to you.

And any boat you seek to take

Upon the waters of my lake

Will fall apart and splinter thin

And in the acid drop you in!

And if you find a way to fly

Across the lake up in the sky

Let a wind come rushing down

And push you in to burn and drown!"

"Not very good," Mickey commented dryly.

Ceridwen stopped laughing and shot a glare at the impertinent leprechaun. "But effective, do not doubt!" she promised, and none of them, not even Geno, wanted to go and try the water.

"How long are we to be held here?" the dwarf growled. "I have work to do, many contracts to fulfill."

"A hundred years," Ceridwen replied. "Or until that one" - she pointed to Gary - "has died. Ynis Gwydrin is your home now. Do make yourselves comfortable. There are caves, which should please you, good dwarf, and my resourceful slaves have even managed to construct some small huts. With your fighting skills, mighty elf-lord, you should be able to claim one or two structures as your own."

"Why have you interfered?" Kelsey demanded. "This was no business of yours, witch Ceridwen!"

"But it was," Ceridwen replied. "I cannot allow you to reforge the spear and stir up thoughts of ancient heroes."

"Yer puppet strings're not so tight on Kinnemore?" Mickey asked slyly.

"On the King, yes," Kelsey reasoned, remembering Prince Geldion's interference. "But not on the common people. She fears that they will look back to find their heritage and their way out of the mire."

"You are a fool, Kelsenellenelvial Gil-Ravadry," Ceridwen spat.

"Call him Kelsey," Mickey offered, but the witch paid the leprechaun no heed.

"Ever were the elf-lords of Faerie fools!" Ceridwen went on. "You sing old songs and play with legends while I..." She stopped suddenly, realizing that she might be revealing too much - even to prisoners.

"Come along, Geek!" Ceridwen growled, and she grabbed up the case containing Cedric's spear and rushed away, the cowering goblin close behind.

There was really very little that the companions could do. Geno retrieved a hammer from the goblin's boat and hurled it Ceridwen's way, but it turned into a crow long before it ever reached the witch and simply flew off into the sky.

So the weary companions set a camp and sat down in the sand, and stared glumly at the shore. It did not seem so far, with the mountains rising up sharply beyond the water's edge, but the trip in the boat had taken many minutes, covering a half mile, at least. Given Ceridwen's spell, the shore might as well have been a world away.

The break gave Gary time to consider his fate, and the consequences of this strange adventure. He slid over to sit by Mickey, who was just about done withThe Hobbit.

"Too bad I don't have the rest of the series," he offered. "You'd have a way to spend the next week or two."

"Fine with the words, is yer Mr. Tolkien," the leprechaun agreed, never looking up from the book.

"Mickey," Gary started again somberly, and he put a hand on the leprechaun's shoulder. Mickey looked up and knew at once that something was deeply troubling his captured man.

"How many days... I mean, I've been here a while..."

Mickey's sudden burst of laughter put Gary a bit at rest. "Not to worry, lad," the leprechaun explained. "Time's running different in Faerie. When the sprites danced about ye, they danced against the turn o' the clock."

"Against the turn?" Gary did not understand.

"If they go against the turn, then the time in Faerie runs quicker than time in yer own world," Mickey explained. "If they go with the clock, then the other runs true. A day here'd see a dozen years pass in yer own world. But they went against the clock in bringing ye; ye'll not be missed in yer home for a long, long time."

"But what happens..." Gary stuttered on, searching for the right words. "I mean, if I die here, do I wake up there? I hadn't really thought about it before... well... maybe in the goblin fight, and just for the moment when I fell over the cliff. But what happens?"

Mickey's comforting smile faded. "No, lad," he replied quietly. "If ye die here, then die ye do. They'd not find yer body - unless I can think of a way to bring ye back to the woods where me pixie took ye. This is no dream, I telled ye before."

Gary spent a few minutes considering the grim possibility that he would die here, and the pain it would bring to his parents. He imagined them looking over his sword-hacked body in the woods out back, totally perplexed, and with half the Lancashire police force standing right beside them, having no explanations.

How many unexplained deaths...? Gary dismissed the seemingly limitless possibilities of the confusing notion, preferring to concentrate on his own predicament.

"Suppose Ceridwen keeps us, for a year or ten years," Gary reasoned, "and then you get me back?"

"As I said, in yer world, ye'll have been gone just a short time, even though ye been ten years in Faerie."

"But will I have aged?" Now Gary thought he saw some intriguing possibilities here concerning immortality. Mickey dashed them immediately.

"Aye," the leprechaun replied, and he chuckled as he thought about it. "Ye'd be showing the ten years. Many's the ones who've gone back to yer world after long years in Faerie, trying to explain how their hair turned all gray overnight."

"But it won't be ten years, or a hundred," Gary prompted, looking over to Kelsey, sitting a short distance away and staring into the darkening sky. "You'll get me out of here."

"Ceridwen's a mighty foe," Mickey began, not at all convinced. It wasn't hard to see, though, that Gary needed some comforting. "Aye, lad," the leprechaun finished as cheerfully as he could. "Kelsey'll find a way to beat the witch."

Gary smiled and motioned for Mickey to go back to his book, then joined Kelsey in the silent stare to the twilight sky.