"Nothing worth while is ever easy," said the woodcock. "And now I'll show you where to start. By the bye, you can't take the dogs with you."
"This dog wouldn't go," said Artemis, shivering. "That black collie's there somewhere."
"Don't bother about us," said Apollo. "We'll be home long before the keeper is out of bed."
So Fiona took a warm farewell of the two dogs, who lamented her sad fate and wished her luck all in one breath, and then set off homeward with their long swinging gallop.
"And now, if you want to be in time for the great gathering, which you humans call Hallow E'en, you'll have to hurry," said the woodcock.
"But it's nearly a month to Hallow E'en," said Fiona.
"You'll want every minute of it," said the bird. "Come on."
And they started off for the fairy ring, the woodcock pattering along on his little feet at a pace which would have surprised anyone who had never seen a woodcock do it.
"How come you to be doorkeeper?" asked Fiona, as they went.
"Hereditary," said the bird. "We used to go to all the lost lands, you know, like Lyonesse and Lemuria and Bresil and Atlantis. We still cross Ireland once a year and pass on into the Atlantic to salute the site of Plato's island, before we settle in Britain. And Fairyland is only another of the lost lands. Here we are."