by Sharon Gibbs
Artom reached down and pulled the smaller blade from his belt. ‘Here, Wizard,’ he said and handed Henry the dagger. ‘While Stelthod and I hold the creature’s wings, thrust the blade into its heart.’
‘Who, me?’
‘Yes, Wizard. Hurry.’
Henry took hold of the granite blade and when Artom let go of it, it took all of Henry’s strength to hold the weapon. ‘I don’t think I can. It’s too heavy.’
‘Use your magic, Wizard. Make the weapon as light as a feather.’
Henry chanted the words to reduce the weight of the stone and sure enough he was able to hold the dagger with ease.
‘Are you ready, Wizard?’
‘Yes, hold that wing up,’ Henry said, and he charged forward with the blade in both hands to thrust the stone into the animal’s ribs. The heavy blade came to a halt in the beast’s torso and with a mighty shove Henry pushed the blade in further to pierce its heart.
Garlon shrieked and pulled back to escape, and as Jorath held on tight, the animal slumped upon the Guardian’s chest. As the hound took its last breath, it became still and before their eyes the creature transformed back into its original form. A Netherwolf. The grey and white coat of the beast dulled as its eyes glassed over and Jorath eased the animal onto the muddy earth. He sighed. ‘Tis a waste of a beast,’ he said as Stelthod and Artom sped back to their stations.
<><><>
Across the field, Christopher drew in a deep breath.
Fifty. He stood to his full height and stared at Zute and then he strode forward.
<><><>
Zute watched as sparks rose up from across the field to flash out into the night as his beast was struck, and when he heard the animal’s cries of pain, he stepped forward. ‘Enough! This war will end now!’ He lifted his arms and the earth trembled with his magic.
Christopher broke into a sprint and headed straight for the Dark Lord. Time was running out.
Chapter Fifty-nine
As the ground vibrated, Christopher staggered. He edged towards the Dark Lord and all the while summoned his magic. It danced within his fingers and as he drew within meters of Zute he halted. The first rays of morning seeped over the mountains behind him to chase the gloom from the land and at that moment, Christopher thrust his essence into the ground. Green bolts zapped at the soil and rebounded in a shower of sparks, catching the evil Lord’s attention.
Zute thrust out his hand to reveal Christopher’s presence. He wrapped his evil power around him and held him paralysed. ‘Fool me once. Shame on me. Try to fool me twice. ‘Tis a shame for you.’ Zute sneered at him. ‘Now tell me, lad. Why would they again send a boy to do a man’s job?’
Christopher’s body convulsed in pain, and Zute stretched out his hand to rip the wizard’s heart from his chest. Christopher was unable to move, unable to call out under the power of the spell, and Zute’s magic trickled from his fingers to wrap around Christopher’s heart.
<><><>
A flash exploded in the early light not far in front of the Dark Lord. The signal had been given. James looked over at Clarence. His hands were still bound, but Forman’s brisk steps had spurred James into action. He sprang forward and crept up behind Zute as Christopher appeared. James could see his friend writhe in pain and as the Dark Lord raised his hand to pull out Christopher’s heart, James quickened his step. He whipped the steel snake chain belt around the Dark Lord’s throat and snapped the clasp shut. The red eyes of Athena’s snake chain belt glittered in the morning light and the Lord’s power was trapped within the spell of the belt. Christopher was released from Zute’s magical grip and fell gasping for breath to the muddy earth. Within seconds, Clarence pulled his hands from his bindings and thrust forth his magic, seizing hold of Athena.
With Zute’s dark magic confined by the belt, his creatures of the night were released from his hold. The beasts, still in flight, transformed back to their original forms and fell to the ground. The Netherwolves of Winterness lay injured and yelping in pain. Those of the pack lucky enough to have their feet on solid ground scampered off, disappearing into the last shadows of morning.
Zute’s bewitched walking army fell. Elle and her comrades collapsed to the grime as their enemy’s outer casings dropped to the mud and cracked, releasing their inner tormented souls. They all watched as blue orbs shot upwards and rocketed into the distance headed for the Other World, a place of peace, while their forms were left behind, crumbled, scattering the fields with leaf litter. The storm above them broke and the rain ceased.
Without Zute’s flow of magic, Athena aged. She’d long ago abandoned her inner gift as she revelled in the strength of the Dark Lord’s magic, and now she found herself trapped.
Foreman yanked the potion ball from his pocket and hurled it at the Dark Lord’s feet. He then pushed Athena towards her beloved. ‘Eieci te ad regni,’ he yelled over the explosion.
Clarence followed his lead. ‘Eieci te ad regni.’
Christopher rose to his feet and cast out his hands, repeating the call while Henry raced through the fallowed field over the mounds of debris to join them. United together, the wizards chanted the spell to send the Dark Lord back to the Underlands. The earth beneath their feet rumbled and the winds again rose, whipping up a vortex around Athena and Zute. The wizards edged back from the fury, still chanting as the spell built in strength to banish the two trapped inside to the Underlands.
‘No!’ Zute yelled as he lashed out to escape from the whirling winds but the storm gained strength and held them inside. The ground beneath his feet gave way, opening into a spinning mass, and he slipped to his knees as the torrent of shifting sands sucked him towards the funnel. He searched for something to prevent his descent, but found nothing to latch on to and as the hole became larger Athena too lost her footing. She fell onto the sand and cried out. Zute grabbed hold of her ankle to save himself but only succeeded in pulling her into the spinning vortex as well. Finally, as the winds reached their peak of rotation and the wind whipped the sand into an impenetrable wall, the pair were sucked into the realm created by the wizards of long ago.
Jorath ran across the field. ‘Wizards! You must tend to the injured. Come now, there is much to do.’
<><><>
As injuries were tended and threads of magic cast into man and Netherwolf alike, the wizards felt the balance shift once again in the realm.
‘Did you feel that, Henry?’
‘Yes, Christopher. But there is nothing we can do. The last of the tree’s magic is fading and soon it will be gone. I’m afraid we will be left without the gift.’
‘Then we must hurry,’ Christopher said. ‘There are many still to be healed.’
Henry nodded and continued on with his task. As the skies lightened his strength drained and he could do no more. ‘It is done then,’ he said. ‘The gift is gone.’
Christopher rested back on his haunches and stared at the man he was treating. He wished he could’ve done more to help him, but time would have to finish what he’d started. As for the others who lay wounded, they would have to heal with a little medicinal help for there was nothing more the wizards could do. Their magic had become silent.
Chapter Sixty
Early that morning before the moon slid low in the sky, the young boy and the Guardian continued their search.
Rock ground against rock as Eron plodded along and then with a groan he halted his step and turned back to beckon the young boy. ‘Up ahead, near the bend in the river, young wizard. I see the tree.’
Finch scanned the distance The morning light glimmered off the elements he recognised from his dream. A boulder which stood too close to the river. A large tree that leant to its side baring its broad trunk as if it were a bridge spanning an endless gap. Then he saw the small sapling as Eron’s blue gaze came to rest upon the tree.
The giant watched as Finch hurried Milly on and as the boy jumped from his saddle the stone giant settled and resumed his quiet watch. Ready to rise and give a
ssistance wherever it was required.
Finch tied the mare’s reins to a low branch before he rushed over to the Tree of Life. Its twiggy form stood listless, and Finch reached down to feel the earth around the base of the stem. The soil was dry and he ran his fingers up the spindly stem which had already begun to wither. Scooting back to Milly’s side, he unhooked the water skin from his saddle and sped over to the river’s edge. Once the bladder was full, he hurried back to the tree with the precious liquid and emptied it at its base. Over and over he repeated the process until he felt the tree’s thirst had been quenched.
Worn out and weary, Finch stumbled over to Milly and Shadow. He pulled his blanket from behind the saddle and from his dwindling supplies he gave each horse a piece of bread. After the horses had finished their treat, they resumed nibbling on the fresh green blades under the tree and Finch returned to the Tree of Life to laze and snack on his rations. He gazed through the early morning light at the sapling and knew he had done a fine thing. The tree would now grow, he thought, and he vowed to himself he wouldn’t leave the tree until he knew it could survive on its own. Unrolling his blanket, Finch lay down. His eyelids flickered as he fought back his need for sleep, but as he relaxed his lashes lowered. Exhausted, the young lad drifted off to dream.
<><><>
The sun continued to rise and shone across the valley. Its golden rays licked every leaf and blade of grass as the young boy slept on. Shadow nuzzled at Finch’s hair and playfully pulled on his cloak. Still groggy with sleep Finch pushed the colt away and the foal wandered off. As Finch woke he remembered the tree. Shooting up from his bed he saw the foal.
‘Shadow, what have you done?’ Finch watched, horrified, as the colt tugged off the last leaf from the Tree of Life. Stumbling to his feet Finch shooed the foal away.
Eron, alerted by Finch’s shrill voice, opened his eyes and saw Finch chasing the foal. He then noticed the damaged tree.
‘It’s not the foal’s fault. He is merely a babe, Wizard.’
‘I know, Eron. The fault is mine. If the tree dies because of my neglect, all magic will be lost.’
‘Just because the tree has no leaves doesn’t mean it will die. Doesn’t mean it will live either,’ the stoic giant said.
Finch hurried back to the naked stalk and slumped down in front of it. He touched the snapped twig ends where Shadow had tugged at the leaves and as he lifted the hanging piece of the main stem, it snapped off, turning to ash in his hand.
<><><>
In the valley far to the north, across the shifting sands on the other side of the stony glades, the split trunk of the mother tree waned. Its core shattered, the tree’s life force vanished and each half of the split shaft snapped from its base and crashed upon the earth. From green to yellow and finally brown it transitioned in the morning light and as the sun rose higher the dry leaves dropped from the branches, turning them a soft grey by the time they landed on the wilting grass beneath the fallen giant.
Each half of the fractured trunk shifted as its mighty limbs turned to ash and the vibrancy of the valley faded. At the same time, by the river the boy watched as the small trunk in front of him also collapsed. Its brittle shell fell to the earth in a powdery dust. Finch’s eyes welled with tears and his throat became parched. With a dull ache in his head, a single tear trickled down his cheek. Now the Tree of Life was dead and it was his fault. His heart weighed a ton and his tears flowed. If the tree was dead, the wizards’ magic would be gone.
Eron trod to the boy’s side. ‘That’s it, Wizard. I knew you would know what to do. Just as the one before you did.’
Finch looked up at Eron. The morning sunlight glistened on his young cheeks. ‘How can you say that?’ he said as he wiped his nose. ‘I let Shadow destroy the Tree of Life and now all magic is gone.’
‘I still exist young Wizard, and so does the tree.’
‘Can’t you see the tree is gone, turned to ash?’
‘Look again, young one. For all must be severed before a new life begins. Only one pure of heart could do what you’ve done. You are a wizard of hopes and dreams.’
Finch looked back, and there rising from the silver ashes was a small green shoot. It wriggled and turned to face the morning sun. Sprouting new growth, leaves burst open as the young wizard stared. From the earth the wiry sprout grew and Finch watched with eyes agog as the spindly miracle grew with vigour to rise above his head. He wiped his hand across his nose again and sniffed. The branches of the tree swayed down to caress and comfort the young boy.
‘It’s alive, Eron,’ he said as he marvelled at the willowy sapling.
‘Yes, Wizard, and it was you who made it so.’
Chapter Sixty-one
Christopher helped an injured woman into the back of the rickety farm cart. Lifting his hand and shielding his eyes from the glare overhead, he scanned the fields before he too climbed aboard. Signalling Albert to move ahead, the horses strained against their leather harnesses to pull the wagon through the muddy field, and head for the path to the Keep.
Henry and Clarence traipsed up the winding track headed for home behind the last of the wagons. Henry’s stomach rumbled. He stopped and rubbed his belly and looked up with surprise. ‘It’s there, Clarence. I can feel it.’
‘What are you jabbering about now, old man?’
‘It’s the gift, Clarence. I’m sure of it.’
Clarence closed his eyes and searched his inner core. Down into the depths of the blackness he probed, scanning the empty void where his magic had once bubbled. As he skimmed the empty space, a flicker of warmth burst to life. It pulsed for a second before it disappeared. He concentrated, and slowed his search. There, nestled in a niche of gloom, he found the glimmer of magic. ‘Yes, Henry. I feel it too.’ He opened his eyes and grinned at his friend.
‘It may be a small, but with care it will grow strong,’ Henry said and his belly rumbled again.
‘Come, Henry,’ Clarence said and with a brisk step he set off up the road. He looked back as he called out to the wizard. ‘There’s still much to be done up at the Keep before we can rest.’
‘Why yes, now that you mention it. I am quite famished.’ Henry hurried to catch up, and as he fell into line with his friends step he said, ‘You know, Clarence, I can’t remember the last time I ate.’
Clarence laughed and placed his arm around Henry’s shoulder. ‘I see you’re back to your old self, my friend,’ he said and they continued their trek up the mountain.
<><><>
Afternoon sunshine flooded the gardens of the Keep later that day, and Hank flicked the reins driving the team out of the barn. By the front steps of the Keep he pulled the wagon to a halt. Atlas sat by his side, in the driver’s box, and called out to catch the two girl’s attention. ‘Come on, ladies. There’s a few good hours of light left and we should be on our way.’
Elle and Shyla dashed down the Keep’s steps to the wagon, while Christopher, standing on the tailgate held the canvas back so they could climbed in.
‘Miss,’ Shyla said as they settled on the wooden floor and the wagon jolted forwards on its way.
‘Yes, what is it?’ Elle reached out and held the girl’s hand.
‘Is he alright?’
‘Finch is fine. Eron will take care of him until we arrive.’
‘He’s probably hungry and cold,’ she said, steading herself as the wagon descended the steep slope and followed the stone Guardian they called Artom.
‘Well there’s nothing we can do, until we reach him.’ Elle squeezed the girl’s hand. She reached over and straightened the pile of furs next to her. ‘Come and rest,’ she said to the girl as she lay down on the soft bed. ‘We’ll be there soon enough.’ Shyla crawled on to the pelts beside her and lay on her back gazing up at the canvas cover overhead. ‘Stop thinking and close your eyes, Shyla. Father, did you want to rest for a while?’
‘No. I’m fine, lass. Besides, Hank and I have some catching up do.’
‘Aye, muc
h has happened since we last spoke.’ Hank’s burly voice hummed in her ears and as she closed her eyes, Shyla snuggled in close. They were both soon lulled to sleep by the comforting rock of the wagon.
Christopher eased himself onto a pile of furs and as he lay there he watched his love sleep. The wagon rocked as it rolled along, and the flicker of a smile curved Christopher’s lips as Elle’s auburn curls bounced. He admired her inner strength and was damn proud of her. With a smile caressing his lips he closed his eyes. Enshrouded by the wings of exhaustion, he drifted off to sleep. His thoughts remained about her, and as he drifted into a deep slumber the ring on Elle’s finger flickered with life. The emerald essence inside it swirled and the glow filled the back of the wagon with the wizard’s love.
<><><>
Afternoon shadows stretched their cool fingers across the small clearing. Finch was busy tending to the horses when he was startled by a flurry of activity beyond the tree line. As he stared into the undergrowth nearby, the branches of a low growing tree parted and he could make out figures behind the growth.
‘Eron! Someone is coming this way,’ he called to the giant. The stone man scanned the wooded copse and then, rising, he lumbered past the young boy. ‘Don’t worry, Wizard. It’s only Artom and your friends.’
As the wagon rolled into the clearing Finch waved a welcome at Shyla as she poked her head out from the canvas flap covering the front of the wagon.
Atlas pulled the team to a halt and Hank assisted the young house girl down from the driver’s box. As soon as her feet touched the lush green grass, she raced over and wrapped Finch in a hearty hug. ‘I was so worried about you,’ she said and then releasing the boy she stepped back. ‘How could you just leave like that?’
‘I’m sorry, Shyla.’ Finch rubbed his arm where she had crushed him. ‘All I could think of was finding the tree.’
‘What tree?’
‘That one.’ Finch turned and pointed to the Tree of Life. Over the few days it had taken for the wagon to reach the small clearing, the tree had grown with vigorous haste. Its canopy had expanded to such an extent that it now rivalled the other older trees along the woody edge of the corpse and a gentle breeze rustled the lush greenery on its sturdy branches. While beneath, in the shade of the tree, thick grass grew at its base to weave a carpet of soft mossy green which spread out to cover the ground in the hidden cove by the river.
