White Horse Talisman (20 page)

His father pointed to the door.

Owen did as he was told, gathering his night things together in silence. He stomped out.

Uncle Ron looked at Adam. “Get into bed and never let me see you fighting again.”

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The dragon chortled as Adam's anger coursed once more
through his veins.

Ava shuddered and left her post to report to Myrddin.
“The dragon is manipulating the boy's thoughts again.”

Myrddin spread his hands in despair. “We cannot inter
–
fere. The boy must choose freely. His heart is his own.”

“Join with me, Myrddin. Keep hope alive while Equus
rides the wind. Send peaceful thoughts to Gaia.” Ava spread
her wings in blessing.

Myrddin shook out his cloak and flung stardust towards
the misty blue planet.

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Adam seethed in his bunk, wondering how to get both halves of the talisman.

He turned over in bed, replaying in his head the magical “clang” of Wayland's anvil and the image of the two halves coming together. He banged his head several times on the pillow. “Think, brain, think! How can I get the other half from Chantel, then get to Wayland's Smithy on my own?” he said to himself.

Slipping his hand under his pillow, Adam touched his piece of the talisman to reassure himself that it was still safe. He let go quickly, not wanting to fall asleep holding it. He did not want to talk to the dragon until the talisman was whole and he had something to bargain with. A thought oc–curred to him. What if he held it just long enough to make a tiny wish?

Adam clasped the gold piece and closed his eyes. “I wish there was a way to get the other half of the talisman from Chantel,” he whispered, and let go, removing his hand from under the pillow.

No bright ideas occurred to him.

The bedroom seemed empty and unfriendly. Adam's thoughts drifted towards Owen sleeping on the study couch.

Served Owen right for fighting!

It was a long time before he slept.

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Holly and Chantel lay talking quietly.

“We've got to take both halves of the talisman to Way–land's Smithy,” said Chantel. “We promised the White Horse we'd make it whole.”

“We will,” soothed Holly.

“Adam won't let us.” Chantel's voice broke in a little sob.

“He hates me again, like he did in Canada.”

Holly stuck her hand between the beds and held Chan–tel's hand. “He doesn't really hate you. He's just messed up with the divorce stuff. But know what?”

“What?” sniffed Chantel.

“Adam will come through when he has to. He did when I was captured by the dragon.”

“You're not his sister,” muttered Chantel. “He likes you.”

“You'll see,” said Holly sleepily.

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Owen lay stiffly on his back. Adam Maxwell's the know-it-all, not me, he thought. Well, game over. I'm not helping him anymore. I'm going to help Mr. Smythe instead. He said I could work with him excavating what's left of the red mare so she will be there forever.

Thinking about the reappearance of the red mare brought a smile to Owen's lips. He burrowed into the soft couch cushions and went to sleep.

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At dawn, a blackbird perched on the thatch and burst into song. Adam awoke and pulled the pillow over his ears. The song penetrated through the stuffing. He sat up, cussed and headed for the bathroom.

As he turned on the tap to wash his hands, Adam stared in disbelief. There beside the soap was Chantel's half of the talisman.

“Chantel must have dropped it by mistake.” Adam grinned. “Tough luck, Tootsie.” He palmed the talisman and raced back to his bedroom.

Retrieving his piece from under the pillow, Adam butted the two halves together. He could feel a current running between them. He threw on his clothes, tucked the pieces in the pocket of his jean jacket and zipped it shut. Shoes in hand, he tiptoed downstairs and let himself out of the back door.

He slipped into his shoes, ran to the barn and saddled up Mischief. “Come on, girl,” he whispered. “Time for a morning ride.” He led Mischief out of the far door of the barn into the paddock so no one in the house would hear hooves on the cobbles. She let Adam mount without trouble.

They trotted over the grass towards the gate in the far corner.

Adam dismounted, opened it and led Mischief through. The gate squeaked.

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Holly awoke with a start, unsure why. Then she heard the noise again. A distant squeal of metal against metal. It sounded like the paddock gate. She slipped from her bed and looked out of the window.

Adam was on the far side of the paddock gate, trying to mount Mischief.

Holly dodged behind the curtain and watched through a gap. He was too busy coping with Mischief to worry about the noise from the gate. Once again his pony was living up to her name. She danced around in circles. Stuck with one foot in a stirrup, Adam hopped around after her, unable to spring up.

Serves him right, thought Holly gleefully. She tiptoed out of her bedroom and crept into the study.

“Owen, wake up.” Holly gently shook his shoulder. “Ad–am's up to something. He and Mischief are sneaking out of the paddock.”

Owen sat up. He rubbed his eyes, scratched his scalp and tried to concentrate. “Where's he going?”

Holly shrugged. “Dunno, but I could make a guess.”

“Wayland's Smithy,” they chorused softly.

“Let's follow him.” Owen slid from under the duvet and grabbed his clothes.

“What about Chantel? She can't ride with her leg in a cast.”

“Okay. I'll take Batman. You and Chantel come with Harlequin and the pony trap. Dad asked Mr. O'Reilly to clean it up for us yesterday. It's all ready to go.”

Holly gave a thumbs up and left to wake Chantel.

Owen dressed swiftly and headed downstairs. He paused to scribble a note: “Gone for an early ride along the Ridge–way. We'll get our own breakfast when we come back.” Leaving the note on the table, he slipped outside.

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Adam rode the lanes, watching for the road to Wayland's Smithy. He was nervous about Mischief's hoofs waking people, but he didn't dare go by the fields as he didn't know the way.

He relaxed as he passed several racehorses being exercised. The neighbors were used to hoof beats in the early morning.

He wiped the beads of perspiration from his brow. No one had tried to stop him from leaving the farm, and now he was on the correct track. Things were looking good.

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Owen and Batman worked in rhythm. They galloped across a field. Then Batman stood while Owen slid off to unlatch the gate. Batman stepped through and stood again while Owen shut the gate and remounted. Then they were off, racing across the next field.

By the fifth gate their movements had become a fluid dance. Finally they were clear of the fields and on the long woodland gallop that paralleled part of the Ridgeway.

Owen reined in behind a thicket. He and Batman were breathing heavily.

“We must be ahead of Adam,” Owen whispered as he stroked Batman's neck. “He doesn't know the shortcuts.”

He dismounted, tethered Batman loosely to a tree and gave him a pat. “Be good. I'll be back soon.”

He picked his way through the wood until he was within sight of the Ridgeway. Dropping to the ground, he wriggled under a concealing bush and waited.

Five minutes later, Adam and Mischief trotted past.

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“Go fast, Holly,” pleaded Chantel. She was in a blind panic after discovering the loss of her piece of talisman. She clutched the side of the pony trap, willing it to fly.

Holly shook her head. She held Harlequin at a steady trot. “We can't gallop. It's dangerous. The trap could hit a bump and overturn. We're going as fast as we can.”

Chantel subsided unhappily.

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Adam dismounted, rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans and led Mischief into the enclosure of Wayland's Smithy. He took his time closing the gate and knotting the reins safely up around the horse's neck. Finally he gathered enough courage to stand between the magical beech trees and survey the bar–row. It looked peaceful and unthreatening in the early morning sunlight. Adam stepped forward into the circle.

Stillness fell, no leaves rustled, no bird sang. Only his heart thumped as he tiptoed across the grass.

The great gray stones loomed before him.

Adam stooped beneath the lintel and peered inside. Tendrils of magic wafted out to greet him.

“Er … Wayland,” he called, his voice thin and uneasy. “It's me, Adam. I've brought the talisman for you to fix.”

A flame flickered deep in the darkness.

“ENTER.”

Bile rose in Adam's throat. He couldn't do it. He could not enter that black passage on his own. No matter what the stakes or how hard the magic pulled, his fear of dark enclosed spaces overcame it. He sank to his knees.

A horse whickered and Mischief answered. Adam glanced back.

Owen appeared between the beech trees.

Adam gasped and flung himself into the entrance of the barrow.

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Darkness pressed down, a smothering blackness that made Adam gasp and pant with fear. He fought through it, hand by hand, knee by knee, driven by his need for the talisman.

Finally the passage widened and a pulsing crimson glow gave enough light to see.

Adam rose to his feet and stumbled into a great cav–ern lit by a glowing forge. A gigantic man appeared and disappeared in clouds of smoke and steam as he worked at the anvil. Behind him, half hidden in the shadows, was a red mare.

Adam stopped in shock. He looked around guiltily, but there was no sign of the White Horse.

The blacksmith lifted his face and Adam got his second shock. The face was familiar.

“Mr. S … S … Smythe!” Adam gasped, then clapped his hands over his ears as Wayland's hammer arm rose and fell, pounding a glowing horseshoe. Steam hissed as he dunked it into a pail of water.

Clasping the horseshoe in long black pincers, Wayland turned to the shadows and the red mare lifted her hoof. Thick yellow smoke obscured them as Wayland straddled her leg and clapped the horseshoe in place.

The acrid smell of singeing assailed Adam's nose and throat as he watched the magic of fire, water, and iron at work on the hoof.

Wayland slapped the red mare's rear and she dropped her foot. He peered at Adam through the smoke and gestured towards his anvil.

“LAY THE PIECES DOWN.”

Adam unzipped his pocket and dropped the two gold pieces on the anvil.

“LOOK DEEP IN THY HEART AS I JOIN THE PARTS.”

Wayland scooped the halves onto a shovel and thrust it into the heart of the furnace. After a few seconds he pulled it out, tipped the glowing fragments onto the anvil and lifted his hammer.

CLANG! A sound as if a thousand hammers struck at the same time. A million sparks swirled around the cavern and Adam swirled with them.

He whirled through space and time, seeing snatches of everything happening around him.

Owen was at the entry of the barrow, kicking the stones. Adam laughed.

Holly was driving the pony trap up the Ridgeway. Chantel sat in the back, clutching the sides and peering ahead. Adam smirked, ignoring a twinge of guilt. He'd outwitted Chantel!

CLANG! The hammer fell again. The sparks whirled Adam higher.

Uncle Ron and Auntie Lynne were sharing a pot of tea and reading a note. Fleetingly, Adam hoped they weren't worried.

He swirled above Mr. Smythe crouched over the kitchen table, painstakingly charting the red mare's crop lines. Guilt tweaked Adam again. He'd found the missing piece of the talisman through Mr. Smythe's help, and then been rude to him.

The golden sparks danced him away. Halfway around the world he saw his parents sleeping — in separate rooms. His father slept in Adam's bed.

Adam roared with anger, “Get out! That's my room!”

CLANG! The sparks circled upward towards an answer–ing roar from the stars.

A silvery net floated in darkness. In it was the dragon.

The dragon was swollen with power. He thrust again and again against the shimmering netting and roared with triumph as one claw finally sliced through and ripped the net apart.

Speechless with horror, Adam looked on as the dragon flew through the sky and plucked Chantel from the pony trap.

“NOOOooo,” yelled Adam. His voice came from the bottom of his heart and echoed through the universe. “Leave her alone. Stop making things bad things happen.”

He was back in the cavern.

Wayland stood beside the anvil holding up the talisman, made whole.

The dragon symbol faced Adam.

Wayland pointed to the furnace.

Adam stared at a vision within the flames.

The dragon leered at them from the top of Dragon Hill, a terrified Chantel in his clutches.

Wayland turned the talisman. The horse symbol appeared.

Wind rushed through the cavern as the White Horse galloped in and stopped beside Wayland. The Red Mare stepped forward to join him.

They too stared at the dragon vision in the flames.

Adam sprinted across the cavern floor and leapt up to pull on Wayland's arm.

“Stop it. Say it's only pictures, that you're making eve–rything happen! Give the talisman to me. I'll make it stop.”

Wayland brushed Adam off as though he were a fly. “ENTER,” he boomed.

Adam turned.

Holly and Owen scrambled out of the passage and into the cavern.

Wayland dropped his arm and handed the talisman to Adam.

Immediately the cavern filled with whispers. Adam could hear thoughts.

Good. The boy holds the talisman. He feels its power. He
will never be able to refuse it now. And I have a hostage.
The dragon cackled in triumph.
Soon the horse will be banished.

Adam will never save me. What shall I do?
despaired Chantel. Her mind cast around desperately for ways to extract herself from the dragon.