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Authors: William Horwood

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They saw that it shone with all the colours of the Autumn and at its core it held the Fires of the Universe.

At once Stort left them where they stood and crossed the field, following the silvery trail to where the Horse and its Rider stood, and he picked up the gem that the stone had become.

Its light shone in the Chime that hung from his neck, and it too held something of the Fires of the Universe and the warm light of Samhain.

‘Hello, Judith,’ he said softly.

The moonlight lit her hair and the gem her face.

‘Hello,’ she said, ‘where have you been?’

‘Here and there,’ he said, ‘looking for this and finding other things . . .’

‘Come closer.’

He did.

She was old and lined, but all that was gone in seeing him.

‘You are beautiful,’ he said.

‘You make me feel so, Bedwyn Stort, you make me feel it. Now, give the gem to me.’

She bent forward so that he could put the gem of Autumn in the setting in the gold pendant that hung from her neck, so perfectly made by Beornamund that once a gem was put back in its proper
place with love, it would not come out again.

‘There,’ he said, ‘you have it now. But we . . .’

She put a finger to her lips.

‘ “We” can never be,’ she said.

He stared at her, frowning.

‘It
is
a problem,’ he conceded good-humouredly, ‘but every problem has a solution.’

‘This one doesn’t, Bedwyn Stort. Not ever.’

‘We’ll see.’

She smiled.

‘You only have until the end of Winter to find a solution.’

‘There is one?’

She laughed the laugh he had always loved.

‘It’s beyond any mortal to find it,’ she said.

‘Maybe,’ said Bedwyn Stort, ‘and maybe not.’

She rode among them briefly, all silvery light and fire, and paused awhile with Arthur especially, their words together private. She embraced him and her light seemed to be his own.

Then, as suddenly as she had come, she was gone, over Pendower Beach, high over Killigerran Head, towards where the moon soared and the stars shone.

They all watched after her, who rode alone through the seasons and loved a love that could never be.

Professor Arthur Foale passed away peacefully three days later in nearby Carne.

The hydden made a pyre on the spot not far from the Beacon, where Stort had found the gem of Autumn.

The day of the burning was still and the fire bright and fierce. It died with the coming of the evening, by when Arthur’s spirit had returned to the Mirror and his body turned to ash. That
same night the first winds of Winter came from the north and scattered his ashes across land and sea and to the four quarters of the Earth he loved; and to the stars above.

A
CKNOWLEDGEMENTS

It is a great pleasure to thank Janice Brockway once again for her support from the beginning to the end of the writing of a Hyddenworld novel. A writer may reach for the stars
but, on this occasion, this particular one sometimes needed help getting there. She has given it unfailingly.

BY WILLIAM HORWOOD

The Duncton Chronicles

Duncton Wood

Duncton Quest

Duncton Found

The Book of Silence

Duncton Tales

Duncton Rising

Duncton Stone

The Wolves of Time

Journeys to the Heartland

Seekers at the WulfRock

Tales of the Willows

The Willows in Winter

Toad Triumphant

The Willows and Beyond

The Willows at Christmas

Other works

The Stonor Eagles

Callanish

Skallagrigg

The Boy with No Shoes (Memoir)

The Hyddenworld series

Hyddenworld: Spring

Awakening

Harvest

First published in 2012 by Macmillan

This electronic edition published 2012 by Macmillan
an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
Pan Macmillan, 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
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ISBN 978-0-230-76608-2 EPUB

Copyright © William Horwood 2012

The right of William Horwood to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

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