Viviane ran forward, shaking her fist at the sky.
‘Bring it back!’ she cried. ‘Bring it back! The Green Lady needs it...’
But the bird was already no more than a distant golden speck in the azure.
They had barely taken the mystical jewel into their possession — and it was already gone. Shocked and stunned, they stood staring into the sky — Olwen sobbing to think how nearly she had lost her hand.
A sound made them return their attention to earth. Standing at the edge of the lake, with the silver water lapping about her feet, stood the Green Lady, tall as a young rowan tree, her robe of leaves rustling around her, cornflowers and the magical five-pointed periwinkle in her hair. She was reaching out her hand to them in greeting, and as her sleeve fell aside, they could see the fine silver
