White Horse Talisman (8 page)

Adam shifted uneasily. The White Horse had said some–thing similar to Chantel.

Worm read his mind.
We can show ourselves because
there is a new Magic Child. Through her the old magic is
stirring. She gave you the broken talisman.
The dragon laughed softly.
She did not tell you that whoever holds it
holds power. Now you hold the talisman. It is strong and
powerful, and your anger makes you strong and powerful.

You attracted my magic as it began to stir. I grew strong
enough to bring you here.

Adam was aware of the talisman in his hand. It felt warm. He opened his palm. The gold piece gave off a soft beam of light. Adam's anger stirred deep within him. How dare Chantel hide power from him?

That's good,
whispered Worm.
Let your anger fuel my
dragon magic. Watch the light.

The beam from the token became stronger. A flickering image appeared in its light. Adam cupped his hands and bent closer. A beautiful, blood-red dragon flew in the beam. A laughing boy was perched on his back between his shimmer–ing wings. The boy turned his head. He was Adam.

Adam gasped.

Yes. This could be you,
whispered Worm's sly voice.
The
Magic Child has the horse. Wouldn't you like the dragon?

Yes … Yes … I'd love to fly like that. But where are you?

How come I can only see you in this beam of light?

My magic is not yet strong enough. But old magic can
be strengthened in many ways. One is to become a believer.

We need many believers. Another way is to find and join
the broken talisman. If you find the other half, boy, you
will have power undreamed of. Until you do, keep this half
safe. Sleep with it in your hand again, and I will bring you
once more to Dragon Hill. What's your name, boy?

Adam.

Adam … Adam.
The dragon rolled the name around his tongue.
A fitting name. It means first born. Adam, you
shall be the first holder of the dragon magic. Names are
powerful, Adam. You must use mine. Call me Worm and
our bond will deepen.

I could teach you words of power, Adam. Ancient and
secret words that summon me. Unless they are spoken by
the holder of the talisman, I will remain imprisoned be
–
neath your feet. Once I am free we will share magic. Free
me, Adam, and you too can have power. The power to do
anything. The power to change things however you wish.

Adam staggered, almost overcome by the possibilities that flashed before him. He could stop his parents from fighting. He could stop Chantel from bugging him. He chuckled. He could turn her into a beetle! He could live on his own with Owen and they could do whatever they liked. He could have loads of money. Yes. He would free the dragon and together they would fix the whole world.

Adam gazed in wonder at the bald earth beneath his feet.
Dragon Hill … you're inside Dragon Hill! Amazing! Tell me
what to do and … and … I'll let you out. We'll fly around
the world together and fix things.

The dragon chuckled again.
You are the eager one!
His voice grew serious.
But there is a price, Adam. To gain the
power you must bring me the whole talisman.

But …

No time to argue,
said Worm firmly.
Bring me both
halves of the talisman and I will show you how to use
them. Say nothing to the others. Dragon magic is old and
fragile until I can reappear and strengthen it. See, my image
is failing.

The flickering dragon in the beam of light was fading.

Quick, clasp the talisman — I must return you. Come
again another night.

Adam folded his hand and cut off the glow. Darkness surrounded him, and he was filled with a sense of loss.

Close your eyes and think of where you came from.
The dragon's voice was a faint whisper. Adam closed his eyes tight–ly and imagined lying in his bunk bed in the farmhouse.

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A hand grasped his shoulder and shook hard. “Come on, Adam. Wakey, wakey! We're going to Wayland's Smithy today, remember?”

Groggily, Adam opened his eyes to find Owen leaning over him.

“You were dead to the world,” Owen laughed. “I've been trying to wake you for ages. Come on, breakfast's ready.”

During breakfast Adam hardly spoke. His mind was full of his dream. He refused eggs, chewed through a bowl of cereal and reached for some toast.

The phone rang.

“It's your mother.” Holly handed the mobile receiver to Adam.

Adam's face lit up. He grabbed the phone. “Hi, Mom!”

“Are you okay?” His mother's voice sounded distant, with a tinny echo at the end of each sentence.

“I'm fine. And Chantel's getting better. I went to see her yesterday and we'll go again today.”

“What on earth were you all doing?” his mother said. “Chantel shouldn't have been riding. She's only seven.”

“What do you mean?” Adam's smile faded. “You let her ride. We all went trail riding last summer.”

“Yes, but I was there. So was your dad. You shouldn't have been out on horses on your own. I told you to look after your sister.”

“Auntie Lynne and Uncle Ron let us. Holly and Owen ride everywhere.”

“They're older. I expected you to use some common sense.”

“Mom, it wasn't my fault. We were all doing fine. The lightning startled the horse. That's why Chantel fell.” Adam's voice rose. “No one can help lightning.” He hunched over the receiver and turned his back on his cousins.

Holly and Owen stared at each other across the table.

“Adam said they blame him,” Owen mouthed.

Holly nodded. She busied herself with toast. Owen did the same. The distant voice on the phone droned on and on.

Adam suddenly pushed the off button, and dropped the phone on the table.

“You okay?” asked Owen.

Adam looked at him, his face white. He shook his head and walked upstairs.

Holly and Owen watched until he disappeared.

“That sounded awful,” whispered Holly.

Owen agreed. “Poor Adam. He had a bad night too. He tossed and turned for ages. He was real hard to wake up this morning.”

Holly looked around. Her dad had left for the barns and she could hear her mother in another room. She dropped her voice further. “I wonder if Adam overheard Mum and Dad talking. I did.”

“You did? You eavesdropped? What did they say?”

“It was an accident,” said Holly. She beckoned Owen closer. “I thought everyone was asleep. I came down to the fridge for some milk, and they were talking in the living room with the door open. If I tell you what they said, promise not to tell?”

“Cross my heart or hope to die,” said Owen, swiftly crossing his chest with his finger.

Holly bent close to Owen's ear. “Aunt Celia and Uncle Brent might be getting a divorce,” she hissed. “That's why Adam and Chantel are visiting England on their own.”

“When they go back to Canada, their mum and dad will be divorced?” Owen's eyes were wide with shock.

“Shhhhhh.” Holly shook her head. “Not quite. Chantel and Adam are here so Aunt Celia and Uncle Brent can have time together to try and work things out.”

Owen let out his breath in a whoosh of air. “Phew. Poor Chantel and Adam.”

“Don't say anything. But maybe that's why Adam and his family are angry all the time.”

Owen turned and looked at the stairs. “I should go and see if he's all right.”

“You promised not to say anything!” Holly grabbed Owen's arm. “You promised.”

“Keep your hair on. I'm not stupid,” said Owen, shaking her hand off.

“Well, don't go yet,” Holly insisted. “Leave it a bit. So it doesn't look like you're being nosy.”

Owen nodded slowly. “All right. A divorce, though. Wow!

Are they supposed to choose between their mum and dad? That's not fair.” He wandered out of the kitchen, looking dazed.

CCC

Adam threw himself on his bunk. His mom was mad at him again. He'd figured she would be. Chantel was her favorite. Dad's too. Everything blurred as his eyes watered. A lump formed in his throat. He thumped the pillow with his fist. “It wasn't my fault, it wasn't my fault, it wasn't my fault!” he said.

After a while he stood up and wandered over to the window. He stared into the distance with his hand in his pocket, absently turning the talisman over and over.

He pulled out the piece of gold. “Do I ever wish my dream was real, that you truly had magical powers,” he whis–pered to himself. “Oh boy, would I change my life!”

The talisman lay still and silent in his palm.

Adam looked up again at the rolling swell of the downs beyond the farm. He considered the possibility of magic. “My little sister says she's talked to the White Horse, and I dreamed about a dragon imprisoned in Dragon Hill. We must both be going nuts.”

He looked down at the broken talisman again and shrugged. “All right, I'll take you to this Wayland's Smithy place,” he said. He leaned his head against the cool glass on the windowpane. “Let's hope nothing happens. Then I'll know for sure that Chantel's been hallucinating, and I just had a crazy dream. Stress, that must be what's causing it … stress.”

The lump in his throat grew larger and a dry sob escaped. He swallowed and muttered fiercely, “But if the talisman is real, then the dragon magic is real. If I make the talisman whole and free the dragon, I can use the power.”

Adam clenched his fist around the talisman and thrust his arm in the air. “I'll fix my parents,” he roared. “I'll fix everyone and everything. I'll fix the whole darned world so no one is ever unhappy again!” Then his body sagged, the lump in his throat grew too big, and for the first time in years Adam cried.

Owen paused outside the bedroom door, his hand on the knob. He heard the muffled sob, sat down on the stairs and waited until all was quiet.

CCC

The sun shone brilliantly. Adam's spirits rose as he followed Owen and Holly to the stables. He didn't care what his mother said. He was going riding!

The ponies whickered a greeting. Adam slapped Mis–chief's rump. She moved over so he could curry-comb her coat; then she turned and nuzzled his pockets for the carrot she knew would be there.

After grooming and saddling up, Adam and his two cousins rode sedately through Uffington. Adam gazed around with interest. Seated on Mischief he could see over hedges and into the gardens of the thatched cottages. The cottages were old, with wavy roofs and black timbers standing out starkly against the whitewashed walls. It was like riding through a storybook.

Holly and Owen waved to several people, who smiled and waved back. Then the road curved around the grounds of the Big House. They clopped past the church and the Blowing Stone Inn.

“The Blowing Stone?” questioned Adam as they passed under the painted inn sign. “Chantel mentioned a Blowing Stone in her dream.” He pointed upward. The painting showed what looked like a man bending over a gigantic stone. “Why is that dude kissing a rock?”

Holly and Owen reined in their ponies and turned to look up at the sign.

Owen grinned. “It's supposed to be King Alfred blowing into the stone. He doesn't look much like a king, though, does he?”

Adam shook his head.

Holly squinted up. “He has a gold band on his head. My history teacher says that was a crown in Alfred's time.”

“So
what's this Alfred dude doing?”

“He's making the stone sound like a trumpet.” Holly looked at Adam. “You do know who Alfred was, don't you?”

Adam shook his head.

“He was the greatest of the Saxon kings,” said Owen. “The one who burnt the cakes.”

Adam still looked blank.

“Anyway, he was really important in English history,” contin–ued Owen. “And village stories say he was crowned around here … in Uffington … or maybe up there on White Horse Hill.”

“Mind you, the people of Wantage say he was crowned there,” interrupted Holly. “No one really knows, but everyone agrees it was somewhere around here. The Blowing Stone was on top of White Horse Hill inside Uffington Castle. For thousands of years it was sounded as a warning when there were raids on the fort or to celebrate things like Alfred's coronation. The sound carried for miles and miles and warned everyone. The inn sign shows Alfred blowing into the stone.” She paused and looked up at the sign. “I don't know if Alfred really blew it, though.”

Adam smirked. “So you really believe there once was a big rock that had a hole in it. And it made a noise like a trumpet that everyone could hear for miles and miles. Yeah, right!”