Behind the Sorcerer's Cloak (9 page)
Chantel giggled. “You're so weird.”
Holly rolled her eyes. “Wait till you hear what happened in my vision, toothbrush man⦔ She pulled out the black bead.
Chantel and Owen groaned.
“Idiot. Didn't you get into enough trouble last time you brought something back from dream-magic?” hissed Owen.
Holly shrugged. “I didn't have a choice, here's what happened⦔
________________________________
I
SLAND
M
AGIC
In the Kingdom of Mann, Manannan braced himself as Zorianna fell into his portal. Ripping through the webbed magic, she plunged into the secret caverns below the castle on Pheric's Isle.
Manannan repaired the web and waited.
He didn't have to wait long.
A rumbling growl followed by the baying of a great dog echoed throughout the castle ruins.
The Moddy Dhoo had begun to prowl.
Manannan sighed.
The Black Dog was an ancient, unpredictable magic, far older than himself. It protected Old Magic and could not be directed. Its current charge was the Sleeper. As he had feared, Zorianna was a threat to her.
FLASH!
Manannan shape-changed into his most fearsome form, one not seen on Mann for hundreds of years, one he used to conceal his identity from enemies while terrifying them. He became three armored legs, joined at the thigh, spinning within a great wheel of fire.
The wheel of fire rolled down the slopes of Barrule, across the water and into the castle's secret passages.
The Moddy Dhoo raised its black head and sniffed the darkness, seeking the scent of the intruder. It left its lair beneath the castle's ruined gatehouse and bound into the secret passages, pausing and sniffing eagerly at each twist and turn. It had not hunted prey for hundreds of years.
The Black Dog could be sensed but not seen. Its fur blended with the night for it was darker than darkness. The Moddy Dhoo was more feared than the dark. The giant dog
was
darkness.
Zorianna's precipitous entrance through the magic portal alerted a second ancient entity.
A white cat with no tail prowled the secret passages, avoiding the path of the Moddy Dhoo.
White as moonlight and silent as light, the cat was a pale gleam in the dark. She was a guide between the worlds and, unlike the Moddy Dhoo, offered light.
The darkness behind the cat thickened and growled.
The white cat spat and arched high, leaping out of the way.
The passage cleared, the Moddy Dhoo passed on, sniffing the air.
The cat followed, keeping to the high dark ledge.
A sliver of silver drifted down.
One hair. A thread of light in the dark.
Dark and Light. Light and Dark.
At this moment on Gaia, the darkness was very dark indeed.
It was a strange day on the Isle of Man.
Instead of blue skies and warm August sunshine, a creeping gray fog hung in the air, obscuring everything. In the town of Peel, the fog was so thick no one could see across the narrow winding streets. It was an eerie fog, filled with the sound of wings from the passage of restless gulls.
The commotion and the fog seemed to center around tiny Pheric's Isle across the bay, where the birds on the ruined walls of ancient Peel Castle could be heard screaming defiance at the top of their voices.
People leaving their homes for work, cussed at the fog and wafted impatient hands at the mist veils, trying to spot the cause of the gulls' unrest.
Nothing could be seen. Thick threads of sea mist drifted to and fro, concealing all but the haziest outline of the castle.
The incessant screams of the gulls echoed around the town.
Old Mr. Cubbon walked stiffly out to the inner harbor and stared across the tidal flats of the River Nebb.
“Hush, you!” he shouted at the birds. “Hush yer screamin' and give us the skeet.” He cupped his ear and listened.
The screaming died down a little.
AARCK.
A ruffled-looking raven soared through the fog and landed beside the old man.
Mr. Cubbon threw it a piece of toast. “There yer are, Blacky. Come for yer treat as usual. Go on then. Give us the skeet. I'm listenin'.”
The raven picked at the toast. Then, turning its head to one side, it looked piercingly at Mr. Cubbon and uttered a series of cries.
The old man cupped his hand over his ear and listened intently.
His gossip shared, Blacky spread his wings and soared back to Pheric's Isle, taking the remaining toast with him.
Mr. Cubbon followed Blacky's flight until the bird was swallowed by the mist. His face was grave. He gave a sudden shudder. “Sommat's walkin' over my grave,” he muttered. “Aye, an' I know what. Yon Moddy Dhoo's prowlin'. Old Magic's awake.”
In the Place Beyond Morning, shadows fled as Ava and Equus combined their power to raise the shattered Gates of Sunrise at last. Once more, pure light poured through. It washed over and awakened the land.
“Now it is safe to leave and return to the children,” panted Ava.
Equus looked with pride at their home, from the sun sparkling again on the tips of the Crystal Mountains, to the brilliant sheen of the Silver Citadel.
The sunlight poured in, creating a land of promise. Birds sang in a deafening chorus. Spring flowers budded. Fields and trees greened, and water tumbled through long-dry streambeds.
“Never again will we allow the Dark Being to smash these gates and deprive the universe of light and hope,” said Equus.
Equus and Ava stood together beneath the Gates of Sunrise and bowed in the direction of Gaia. “Thank you, Magic Children, for the return of the talisman and circlet.”
They both staggered under a sudden blast of mindspeak.
“The children! The children are in more trouble,” said Ava. She listened, her face grave. “This is old mindspeak. It couldn't reach us until we raised the gates and the light streamed through.”
“We must return at once to Gaia,” said Equus. “Dare we risk sending a message?”
Ava shook her head. “Even travel is risky. The Dark One's emissaries are everywhere.”
Dimming their own light, Equus galloped and Ava soared in his wake, first along sunbeams then among moonbeams, concealing themselves on their journey across the universe, Equus suddenly dug in his hooves and slid to a halt. Ava circled and landed on his back.
All was not well around the planet they called Gaia and the children called Earth. There was a strange thickening in the Mists of Time.
The great horse and hawk peered upward through the brightness, surveying the galaxy for clues.
Ava gasped and Equus stiffened.
The black cloud had cleared, and something dark and terrible pulsed and spun in the middle of the Milky Way.
“The Dark Being has called her Shades together. Look how they circle around her, causing a whirling black hole.” Equus shuddered. “That vortex could swallow us all. Our light may not be strong enough.”
Ava stared in horror, scarcely believing what she saw. She steadied herself and began to speak. “I have heard tell of an ancient way to help dissipate a vortex. When Shades take this form, there is a way to let in a beam of light.” She shivered. “The way is risky, but if I succeed, the light will create a tiny chink in the dark. A crack straight into the Dark Being's heart.”
“How can we let in light?” asked Equus.
“By using the Dark Being's own power,” replied Ava. “The vortex draws all toward her. It is her strength, but also her weakness.” She took a deep breath. “Equus, we must use the vortex. It may be our only chance to weaken her.”
Without waiting for Equus to reply, Ava shape-shifted into a tiny hawk. Using her beak, she plucked a small white feather from her breast. She flew onto her companion's back and swiftly wound a fine silver hair from Equus' mane around the feather's shaft and gave a sharp tug.
His skin twitched.
“Ava, this is too dangerous. What about the children?”
“Hush, Equus. The Dark Being is distracted. There couldn't be a better time. For the sake of Gaia and the universe, the children must wait.”
Ava touched Equus with her wing and took off, flying swiftly, circling toward the vortex.
Equus watched as Ava became a speck against the brightness of the Milky Way. Was she small enough to escape detection? Was she strong enough to escape the pull of the vortex?
