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Authors: T. A. Barron

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BOOK: The Great Tree of Avalon
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“No. And I’m not going to, either.”

“Then how can you be so sure?”

“Listen, Elli!” he shouted, not caring that almost everyone in the grove heard him and turned his way. “Get this straight once and for all! There is absolutely no way—none at all—that
I am the true heir of Merlin
.”

A blinding flash of green light exploded from the staff, filling the grove. Before Tamwyn could even move his hand, the light transformed into thousands of tiny green sparks that crackled noisily as they rose into the leaves, as radiant as stars. At the same time, the white frosting of élano sizzled, steamed, and melted into the shaft.

Tamwyn stared down at the staff, which seemed now to glow from within. As he watched, a series of seven runes appeared, etched in the same pulsing green light that he’d seen inside the portal. And, to his surprise, he understood them instantly.

First came a butterfly, symbol for change. Then a pair of soaring hawks, wingtips touching, for bonds of the heart. Next, a cracked stone, for freedom and protection. Then came the rune of a sword, for the power of a true name; a star within a circle, for the hidden connections that allow leaps between places and times; and a dragon’s tail, for the value of all forms of life, and the peril of eliminating even one. Last of all, glowing mysteriously, was the rune of an eye, for the importance of seeing beneath the surface of things . . . and into one’s own soul.

Slowly, Tamwyn raised his face to look at Elli. “I guess you were right. Again.”

She laughed, the spiraling laugh that had the lilt of a meadowlark. “Remember what Rhia said?
You have both light and dark within you

no less than Merlin
.” She squeezed his forearm. “Sounds about right for someone named Dark Flame.”

Tamwyn smiled, though a bit sheepishly. He glanced over at Brionna, who, like all the wood elves, was watching him with amazement. Then he saw Scree, not far from her, smirking broadly. But he didn’t notice Henni, who had climbed into the beech tree to try to catch some of the glowing green stars—until the hoolah hurled a chunk of bird droppings at his head.

“Hmmmpff,” said Nuic with some satisfaction. “I only wish our friend Llynia, the Chosen One, were here now! She wouldn’t know quite what to make of her lowly porter.”

Shim, whose very large rump was resting on a nearby root, nodded knowingly. “I seeses all this happen beforely, to Merlin.”

The dwarfish little fellow peered closely at Tamwyn. “I can’t say for certainly, definitely, absolutely . . . but I thinks that you is lotsly like Merlin. And so be muchly careful, you hears? Because he was full of madness!”

With a chuckle, Tamwyn gave a nod.

“Oh, and could I ask justly one thing?” His pink eyes swelled hopefully. “If everly you find the wizardly way to make someone smallsy who got bigsy, then woefully smallsy, bigsy all over again, could you helps me?”

Though he wasn’t really sure just what he’d been asked, Tamwyn nodded again.

“So now,” asked Elli softly, “what will you do next?”

Tamwyn studied her for a long moment, then looked skyward. He seemed to be gazing beyond the leaves and branches overhead, beyond even the sky itself.

“I’m going up there,” he said with quiet determination. “To the stars! The way my father tried to go. The way Merlin did, long ago—when he lit the stars of the Wizard’s Staff.”

Still peering upward, he grasped the staff firmly. “I’m going to find the way. Yes—and light them again. Before that sorcerer can do any more damage.”

He lowered his voice and grinned. “And while I’m up there, I just might go for a run among the stars.”

Elli thought back to High Priestess Coerria, and the secret they had pondered in the steaming Baths—a way to find the true heir of Merlin. At first, those brief lines had seemed impossible to understand. Especially the final line, which now, at last, rang true:
The light of stars shall bear.

She smiled, for both Coerria and herself.

Shim, though, had a different reaction. For once, he’d heard at least well enough to get the gist of what Tamwyn was saying, and he shook his old head. “I tolds you, I didly. I tolds you he is full of madness!”

Tamwyn lowered his gaze, and his eyes met Elli’s. “But first,” he declared, “I have something else to do. Something important.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And what is that?”

“Make you a new harp.”

Elli laughed. “Yes, you will! By the Thousand Groves, you will.”

Epilogue: The Encircling Shadow

Far away from the green glades of Woodroot, in the darkness of an underground cavern, a frail light burned. Smothered in blackness, its white glow wavered, as if it were the last remaining coal from a long-abandoned fire, or a lone candle holding its own against eternal night.

Yet this was no fire coal, and no candle. This was a crystal.

Shimmering with white light, and subtle tones of blue and green, the crystal of élano sat on a stone pedestal. Though very small, it pulsed defiantly, pushing back the heavy curtains of darkness. Stray beams shot out from its core, flickering over the cavern walls, the torn strands of a spider’s web—and the hideously scarred face of a sorcerer.

Kulwych scowled at the crystal, his hollow eye socket pinched in anger. “Damned crystal! Do as I command, mmmyesss, or know my wrath!”

The crystal merely swelled a bit brighter.

“Do as I say,” growled the sorcerer. His perfectly manicured fingers curled into fists. “You must obey me! I command you to darken, to bend to my will. How dare you resist my spells? My magic? Do you not know that I am the greatest power in all of Avalon?”

“No,” crackled a thin, disembodied voice from the darkest corner of the cavern. “You are not.”

At the sound of this voice, Kulwych gasped. He spun around to face the corner, which was growing blacker and denser by the second. A sudden sizzling arose from the spot, like molten lava flowing into the sea.

Kulwych straightened, trembling, as the sizzling sound grew louder. Even the white crystal flickered uncertainly. Slowly, very slowly, a shape began to form in the darkness—a spiral, darker than smoke, coiling like a vaporous snake.

Just then a heavy door swung open and a burly gobsken, carrying a torch in one hand and a spear in the other, burst into the cavern. He started to speak, when the sizzling coil whipped at his throat, quick as a bolt of black lightning. The gobsken’s body, along with his severed head, dropped to the floor. The head’s unseeing eyes rolled onto the fallen torch, extinguishing its flame, and the putrid scent of burning flesh filled the chamber.

“We tolerate no interruptions,” crackled the black coil. “And no failures.”

“You!” exclaimed the sorcerer, rubbing his pale hands anxiously. “I, well, didn’t expect, didn’t think—”

“Think what, Kulwych?” spat the spiral as it floated toward him. “Didn’t think that you would see me so soon? Or that I would be strong enough yet to make the journey?” The coil crackled vengefully. “You underestimate me, Kulwych.”

“N-n-no,” protested the sorcerer. “Never.”

The dark being came steadily closer. Whenever it touched the floor of the cavern, it crackled and left a mark, charred and steaming, upon the stone.

Kulwych took a step backward. But before he could speak again, the coil lashed out at him. He shrieked and stood frozen—completely motionless except for his one twitching eye—as the spiral wrapped around his neck, not touching his skin, but only a finger’s width away.

“I, I . . . have never,” croaked the sorcerer, shivering with fright, “doubted you.”

The sizzling shadow spun around his neck, circling slowly. At last it spoke again, its voice echoing within the walls of stone. “If you care to survive, Kulwych my pet, that had better be so.”

The sorcerer could only gulp.

An endless moment passed. Then, in a flash, the coil pulled away, moving toward the crystal that continued to pulse with light.

“Now, Kulwych, you shall learn about true power.”

The sorcerer rubbed his neck and nodded meekly.

The dark shadow coalesced even more, until it seemed almost solid, a rope of blackness suspended in the air beside the crystal. “First I will show you how to corrupt this crystal. Next, how to use it to defeat all our enemies. And finally, how to wield it to conquer this world.”

From the depths of the coil came a snarling, sizzling laugh. “And other worlds, as well.”

The sorcerer bit his fingernails. Though his voice shook, he managed to say, “Yes, my lord Rhita Gawr.”

BOOK: The Great Tree of Avalon
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