Behind the Sorcerer's Cloak (29 page)

Both women stood in the same attitude: heads thrown back, gazing up at the tower. Both had flowing manes of hair, one dark, one white.

Holly looked down at the women and felt the magical beads stir. They brought her a vision. Two sisters, almost at one in age and blood, fighting for supremacy. For a second, Holly felt the intensity of a younger sister's jealousy and her hatred of the accident of birth that gave her less power. She felt the older sister's love and pity and guilt, and suddenly she understood the situation before her.

“You are not just sisters,” said Holly. Her voice traveled clearly in the silence. “Light and Dark, Dark and Light. You are magical twins. Your role is to balance one another.”

The Wise Ones gave a sigh like the wind. They lowered their Tools of Power.

“I have the boy,” said Doona.

Holly raised the hand holding the light toward Doona. “Let Adam go,” she said. “Your fight is not with him.”

Doona laughed.

Holly opened her fingers. “
Lhiat Myr HIloo—
To thee as though deservest.”

Minute sparks answered from the white hair entangled in Doona's curls. Doona gasped. She let go of Adam and held her head. “How are we connected?” she shouted to Holly. “It is not possible! I renounced all light.”

Adam stumbled toward Myrddin.

“Take off your ring,” Holly's voice was implacable.

Doona jutted her chin.

The white light around her grew stronger. The Moddy Dhoo appeared on one side of the beam, the white cat on the other.

“Dark and Light, Light and Dark,” said Holly softly. “The balance of power.” She held out the necklace. “I restrung your bead, Doona. It lies again beside the Lady's amber disk as it should. Light and Dark. Dark and Light. I restored the balance that you denied.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, yet all could still hear. “I hold the power.”

No one argued.

“Adam said this wasn't our war. He is right. The people of Gaia never asked for the Tools of Power to come here. The Lady chose Gaia as their hiding place.

“Lady, you chose not to fight with your sister, which seemed good. But you involved Gaia. You brought your problems here.

“Equus told us the Wise Ones could not interfere among humans. Unwittingly you did.

“Doona, this isn't our war. I give you another chance to keep the balance.

“The Lady has let the necklace pass.

“Let Adam go. Let the Shades go. And let your ring of power pass.”

“Come, Doona.” The Lady spoke. She held out her hand across the grave. “The child is wise. Our place is no longer on Gaia. Be not afraid to enter the Mists. Our time has come and our magic must pass. We can go together, you and I. Together as we used to be. Light and Dark, Dark and Light, as time began. Before our Tools came between us.”

Doona's hand moved slowly toward her ring.

The Shades rustled and quivered.

Mist rose from the ground, and two shining doorways appeared, one filled with luminous white mist and soft runesong, one with a billowing dark.

“No.” Doona's did not waver. She spun her ring, forcing the Shades to spin themselves into a vortex once again.

Adam screamed.

“Then I have no choice.” Holly's voice broke on a sob.

She laid the necklace across the parapet, pulled out her flashlight and, holding it like a hammer, smashed the jet black bead.

Doona's cry was piteous.

The stone in her ring shattered into fragments. She slumped to the ground, visibly fading away.

Adam fainted. Myrddin caught him. All watched as his arm fell loose. The shattered ring slipped off his finger and rolled into the grave.

Cullyn lifted her twin to her feet.

Doona was as insubstantial as her sister.

Singing softly, an arm lovingly around her, Cullyn guided Doona toward the doorways.

At the last moment, Cullyn looked up at Holly.

“You are wiser than I,” she called. “I could not find the heart-courage to smash my twin's bead and sever her from magic. I had not the strength to send her into the Mists before her time.

“Instead I directed concealment of the Tools and hid myself, hoping to end her jealousy.

“It was a poor decision that caused untold misery in the universe. I choose to restore the balance. To relinquish my magic and enter the Mists.” She turned to Doona. “Light and Dark, Dark and Light. There is always a choice, Doona.”

“Then there must always be Dark,” whispered Doona. “The Dark is as beautiful as the Light. I go willingly to the Dark. Grieve not, Sister. Chosen dark is peaceful oblivion.”

They embraced and each stepped through different doors.

Sunlight returned.

Applause rippled over the walls from the people watching the eclipse outside the castle.

Inside the walls there was stillness and sadness.

“Uh-oh,” muttered Owen, eyeing the mass of Shades beginning to drift aimlessly through the air. “How do we get rid of them? I've run out of salt.”

Chantel whistled.

With the sound of waves crashing on the shore, a herd of Cabbyl Ushtey leapt over the walls and galloped through the castle grounds. Snorting and tossing their manes and tails, they circled the same way the Shades had circled. Round and round they galloped, faster and faster until they became a pure white blur.

They herded the Shades into the center.

Myrddin raised his staff and his voice. “Shades,” he called, “Doona and Cullyn have entered the Mists. Your time of bondage is over. You are free once again to make a choice.”

The galloping slowed and stopped. The Shades, eyes glittering, nervously looked at Myrddin and the other Wise Ones, all pointing toward the magical doorways.

“You became Doona's Shades because you lacked the courage to enter the Mists when your life was stripped from you,” continued Myrddin. “Dark and Light, Light and Dark. The choice is offered again. There is also a third choice. The Cabbyl Ushtey, the magical water horses of Gaia offer chance of a new life. Those of you who still cannot bear to enter the Mists may climb on their backs and find sanctuary in the realm beneath the sea. Your belief in them will strengthen the Cabbyl Ushtey and halt their fading from Gaia.”

Runesong stirred a puff of luminous mist through the doorway of light.

The nearest Shade glided toward it, paused a moment and passed through.

A silent whirl of movement followed.

“Some are choosing the Dark,” whispered Owen in disbelief.

Chantel's eyes pooled with tears. She huddled against Adam. He hugged her tightly as they watched the Shades make their choices, and the Cabbyl Ushtey, many with dark riders, gallop back to the waves.

The sunset was magnificent.

The townspeople, their disagreements forgotten, lingered on Peel beach, celebrating its beauty and discussing the unexpected eclipse.

No one noticed the more somber party gathered at the top of the round tower.

Adam sat on the stone flags, one arm around Chantel who clutched his hand as though she was never going to let him go.

Owen leaned against Equus and gently stroked Ava who perched on his arm in her guise of a small hawk.

Manannan had fetched Mr. Smythe and Mr. Cubbon, and he and Myrddin talked quietly with them.

Only Holly stood apart, the magnificent necklace still around her neck. Lips parted in a tiny smile, she stared as the sunset cast its golden light across the sea, stared as though she had never seen a more beautiful sight.

She hadn't. Each stone in the necklace tugged at her inner vision. Her eyes saw past Gaia's familiar sun, to undreamed of stars and planets, all sharing their light, calling, beckoning and singing a welcome to her.

Owen cleared his throat. “Put us out of our misery, Sis. What are you going to do with the necklace?”

Everyone held their breath.

Holly came back to earth. She laughed and lifted the beads over her head. She held the fabulous links up for everyone to witness and sighed. “It's so very beautiful,” she said. “I wish it were mine.”

Then she snapped the hair and let the beads run off into her pocket. “We'll put them back in the archaeologists' tray before we leave.” She dropped the hair over the parapet.

“But…but no one will know what order they should be in,” stuttered Owen.

“That's right,” said Holly, watching the hair drift away. “It isn't our magic. This way, it never will be our war.”

E
PILOGUE

The Land Rover turned into the yard of White Horse Farm and tooted its horn.

Ron Maxwell appeared at the doorway. “The kids are back,” he called.

Lynne joined him.

The four children hung out of the car windows, waving madly.

“Who's the visitor?” said Holly as another figure appeared behind them.

“DAD!” yelled Adam and Chantel. They tumbled out of the car into his arms.

Explanations from the children were surprisingly easy.

Descriptions of Glastonbury Tor and the labyrinth, and runes and ruins seen during a twenty-four-hour trip to the Isle of Man, more than satisfied the adults that the cousins had experienced an exceptional trip.

Mr. Smythe was invited to stay for tea.

The children unloaded their backpacks and carried them up to the bedrooms.

Chantel sat at the top of the stairs and waited for Adam. “I've something to tell you before we talk to Dad. Mom phoned while you were off in the mist.”

Adam grunted. “Who did she trash this time?”

Chantel shook her head. “No one, but…,” her eyes filled with tears, “…she said you would go to live with Dad, and I would live with her.”

“WHAT?” Adam dropped down beside her. “You've gotta be kidding. No way are they going to split us up.” He gave Chantel a massive hug that made her bones crack.

Chantel gasped, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. “You mean it, Adam? You really mean it? You don't think it's a good idea?” She gazed up at her older brother.

“Course not,” said Adam gruffly. “Mom and Dad are divorcing, not us. We'll tell them.”

“Mom won't listen,” said Chantel sadly.

“We'll
make
her listen.”

“How?” said Chantel. “We'd have to do something big, like running away.”

“Can't do that,” said Adam seriously. “I missed home like crazy when I was captured.” He punched the air. “We'll go on strike?”

Chantel's eyes widened. “We will?”

Adam grinned. “We'll walk up and down in front of the house holding signs:
Cruelty to Kids
;
Don't split us up
. And we'll phone the TV news first, so they'll cover it.”

“That would be sooo embarrassing,” said Chantel doubtfully.

“Exactly!” said Adam. “Mom hates being embarrassed.”

“We could refuse to go to school,” Chantel said slowly.

“Refuse to do chores,” added Adam.

“Go on a hunger strike,” said Chantel.

There was a long pause. “Naw. No sense not eating,” said Adam. “Got to have the energy to be obnoxious.”