“A torque is a neckpiece,” his SGGm told him. “Celtic Chieftains wore them, after they found a fairy torque back in the far-off time. They felt its power but could not plunder it. They thought by replicating its design they could also find its force; but they never could. They were not of Aisling blood.”
Her voice grew hushed and her eyes began to glow. “Of all the artefacts in Fairydom, the Tara Torque is the most sacred. It links its chosen wearer to The One.” Her voice dropped even more, to a whisper. “The Pobel Vean moved it from Tara to a place of safer keeping, where fewer men would tread. They brought it here to Kernow, where it lies in Mabon’s Cairn.” Her hand wandered to her throat. “You will find the cairn on a penzance to the east and south of here. Go there. It will know you and let you in.”
Zack’s state of mind at this point in the proceedings would be difficult to describe. “Nonplussed” would be one word you could use.
“Fly forth, my son,” the belated Lady Davenport now declared in ringing tones. “Take it for thine own.”
Gordon thought that was asking a bit much, given his age and level of experience. This torque, he had just been told, was the most sacred object in Fairydom. It was imbued with magic drawn from a divine source. That river ran beneath the time his race first walked the earth. It could not now be his by right, unless ...
“May I with right and conscience make this claim?” he asked his spirit-mother, and Zack knew that there could only have been one way. He remembered the terrible storm talked of in that cottage by the Green, such awesome violence on that dreadful Hallow’s E’en.
"'Ad the answer by the followin' Spring though, din’t we?! Five months gaan with child.”
Gordon’s spirit-mother looked straight at him. Her lips did not move, but he heard her voice distinctly in his head. “The magic of Mabon runs in your veins. For many years, I served that Divine Youth. His beauty outstripped any on this Earth. I lay with him, and from his seed you sprang.”
Had she just said his father was a God?
“You are of the Pobel Vean, my son. Aisling Wizard is the least of the titles to which you may aspire. You do not claim the torque; the torque claims you. In time, the world may be a better place because it chose your neck. We wait and hope.”
“You may, my Son,” she said out loud, for her Earth-husband and Sir Roger to hear. “For the ring now fits your finger. Wear it well.” She took hold of his ring hand. “You will find a pointed star etched in that stone where the ring-light shines. Place this hand flat upon that star and the stone will know you. Enter the sacred room and take the torque.”
She raised a warning finger. “You cannot linger. The cairn will straightway seal itself, and magic heal the ground.”
Gordon got to his feet. “What will happen to me when I put it on?” he asked - a fair question in the circumstances. His spirit-mother gave him a gentle smile.
“Have no fear, no harm can touch the wearer. Its power comes from Virtue. It will grant wishes aimed at doing good for others. It may ask a great deal of you in return, but nothing that you will not want to give.”
Gordon bid the tipsy male spirits a fond farewell. The ghost of the woman who in life had lain with a God went with them to the window. He felt both warmth and sadness in her hug. Her last words, however, were to Zack. “A guardian angel to my Edmund be, and look you, Spirit: one thing more …”
Zack gave her his full attention. He took his responsibilities very seriously where Gordon was concerned.
“The spirit of the wearer walks abroad to times and regions where you may not go. His body will stay with you and need your care. While he is gone, you will stand in his stead. Wait for him here and serve him well, the while. Know this: he will be safe, and will return.”
Together Gordon and Zack passed through the window into the cold night air. The moon looked bigger and brighter than Gordon ever remembered. They mounted the broomsticks, and set off for the headland. The Tara Torque had been waiting a very long time …
For him.
NOTES
EAVES; HE LOADS THE VINES IN AUTUMN; IT DID NOT CHOOSE TO SAVE ME FROM THAT STAKE; YAHWEH; THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY; THE LIA FÁIL; FORLORN; KERNOW; PENZANCE; IMBUED; MAY I WITH RIGHT AND CONSCIENCE ...; THE POINTED STAR; OBLIVIOUS; YOU MUST STAND IN HIS STEAD
Chapter 51
Hide And Seek
“Is this the best one yet?” Gordon asked Zack. They were tracking east towards the coast.
“By a country mile,” Zack assured him. The sky, it seemed, was no longer the limit where Gordon was concerned.
Gordon was on auto-pilot: the ring was determining the flight-path. His left hand swung his broom 90˚ to the right and Zack followed the change of course, south over the winking waters of St Austell bay. They put on a fine display of formation flying as their destination drew ever nearer. Beneath the cliffs, the shimmering sea breathed in and out, rolling its moves, melting moonbeams ...
When Gordon’s broom dipped, Zack followed him down. They were once more over land, and the extraordinary moon was bathing the deserted headland in a pale, spell-weaving glow. It helped them notice a circular indent in one of the grassy slopes, between the coast path and the cliff drop. The indent had only been visible from the air. People on the ground no longer see old patterns and divisions, but from an aerial perspective their shapes become apparent. They are resurrected.
Their brooms circled the rath and came to a halt, hovering two feet off the ground beyond those still-defining stones. Dismounting, Gordon and Zack stepped inside the circle. Gordon lifted his left hand, and the ring seemed to emit a light of its own. “If there’s a cairn here,” Zack muttered, “it has to be underground.”
“It will welcome us.” Gordon assured him. Zack saw the ring-light in his eyes. Was that the same glow he had seen in the eyes of Gordon’s SGGm? Perhaps the Aisling Archwizard was sending out some signal to summon a sentry or unlock an ancient code. “Speak, Friend and Enter.”
There was a sharp bark, and a small furry dog with short legs and long, dark grey hair ran into the circle, its small tail stuck straight up in the air. It trotted towards them, fur bristling, its intelligent head cocked to one side as if to say: “what business could you possibly have in such a place at such a time?”
“Unless I’m much mistaken,” Zack said, “that is a cairn terrier.”
Gordon stretched out his left hand. Light, seemingly drawn from the moon, streamed from his ring. It played over the circle in a laser-sharp line and settled on a spot close to the centre. The effect on the terrier was remarkable. It rushed over to Gordon uttering little yelps of joy, its tail wagging furiously, and rolled over to have its tummy tickled.
“He seems to like you,” Zack commented drily. Gordon reached down and the dog squirmed in ecstasy at his touch.
“Good boy,” he murmured. “Good boy; now FETCH!” The little terrier rolled back on to its legs and dashed to where the ring-light was reproducing an image of the moon. It began to dig, and seemingly in seconds, its powerful claws were scraping on a stone. Gordon moved over to the spot. “HEEL!” he commanded. Obediently the dog came and sat beside him. It looked up with black button eyes, tongue lolling, seeming to laugh having had such fun digging into the moon.
Gordon stretched out his hands, palms pressed together. Eyes closed, his hands came gradually apart. The earth heaved on either side of the grounded moon like cut turf rolling. A few inches beneath the surface, a slab of smooth stone glowed in absorbed-reflected light. Just as Gordon’s spirit-mother had foretold, a five-pointed star was etched into its centre. Its apex pointed south, towards the foam-flecked sea.
Gordon knelt and placed his ring hand in the centre of the star. Almost immediately the stone began to sink. There was a rumbling far below them, a rearrangement of the rock deep inside the cliff. They watched in wonder as a flight of steps unfurled beneath their feet.
Gordon stood on the star at the top of the stairs. Looking down
, he couldn’t see the bottom. Zack had had every intention of going with him, but the terrier placed itself at Gordon’s back. It faced Zack now, fur bristling and a warning growl rumbling in its throat. The Aisling Archwizard might go where he pleased, but his attendant spirit had not been invited.
Zack took a step back, wishing - not for the last time - that he had Gordon’s power to see through their second pair of eyes. At least he could remain in telepathic communication and offer advice if it was needed. “Remember, do not linger,” he thought urgently.
Gordon nodded without turning around. The ring lit the way as he began his descent, his footing sure on the firm-set stones. He was ready to power-glide if he needed to. He had an impressive turn of speed if the situation warranted it.
Precious stones abounded in the rock. A lesser mortal might have prised a fortune from their grasp. Gordon, however, stayed focused on the task. Somewhere below was the Tara Torque. He had come for that; nothing else.
At the bottom of the flight, he found a short passage leading to a room a little larger than the one in the tunnel to Mellingford Hall. He paused at its entrance, momentarily stopped in his tracks. “Oh my!” he muttered.
The table in the centre groaned with the weight of priceless artefacts. Jewels of astonishing quality and size winked in piles around the chamber. Wherever he looked, gold glowed. It was shaped into the jewel-encrusted hilts of swords and daggers. There were burnished shields and goblets rimmed with rubies. There were necklaces and chains that dripped with diamonds. Hundreds of these objects were heaped on every inch of surface. The very least of them would fetch a fortune in the material world above.
“Find the torque, and do not linger there!” Zack’s urgent warning sounded in his head. It helped him to focus. What a way to hide what well might be the most precious object in the room. Who would notice a simple torque among these riches?
One handful from such a hoard would surely not be missed! It would fund a life of luxury in the greedy world he came from. Who would not be tempted by such thoughts of personal gain? Gordon, that’s who - Aisling Archwizard, Godchild, Mother’s boy.
“How can I find it?” he thought. The answer came to him, even as he asked the question. “The ring!” He raised his left hand. Unerringly it sent a focused beam of light into the corner of the room furthest from the door. The light was shattered into gleaming shards, mirrored in the many facets of the diamonds mustered there.
Gordon focused all the telekinetic energy he could find towards the end of a long and rather busy dream. The heap collapsed inwards, leaving a little crater at its crest, and a small bronze torque rose slowly from the bottom of the pile. It floated across the chamber towards Gordon’s outstretched hand ...
The second it touched him, the staircase gave a warning rumble: the cairn was rapidly resealing itself. Gordon’s feet did not touch the disappearing steps. He travelled through the contracting space at a speed approaching that of sound. The circumstances demanded it. He could not have escaped by mortal means.
He shot out of the entrance to the cairn like a cork out of a champagne bottle, the torque tightly clasped in his left hand. Less than a second later, the top stone was securely in its previous position. The subterranean rumblings ceased. Gordon’s ring winked out like a torch with an exhausted battery. Speaking of exhaustion ...
“Get me home, Zack, there’s a pal,” Gordon muttered in a state of semi-collapse. Zack put a supporting arm around his shoulder.
They mounted the broomsticks, and Gordon felt his senses slipping as they rose into the air. Beneath them the little terrier was using his hind legs to kick the earth back over the stone. The magic in that place had been capable of carving into a cliff and closing it up again. Zack had no doubt that by morning the grasses and the gorse would have reclaimed the ground above the cairn. There would be no sign that it had ever been disturbed.
“Mind that for me, will you,” Gordon mumbled with the last flickerings of awareness. He shoved the torque at Zack.
His Alter-Ego reached over and took it reluctantly. “Well, if you’re sure,” Zack said. He manoeuvred his broom even closer to Gordon’s and wrapped a secure arm around him, just in time. Gordon sighed his soul towards his bed, secure in the certainty that Zack could get the rest of him there. He’d done it so many times before.
NOTES
COUNTRY MILE; SPEAK FRIEND AND ENTER; SMALL FURRY DOG; MOTHER’S BOY; SIGHED HIS SOUL
Chapter 52
A Mind Of Its Own
Gordon swam up slowly from somewhere deep and comfortably warm. Part of him was still reluctant to realise that the day had got itself well underway without him. He opened his eyes. The strength of the light told him the sun had been up for hours. He stretched, and saw Zack sitting on the bed, regarding him a little anxiously. “Good afternoon,” Zack said.
“Wow,” Gordon replied, and was overtaken by a yawn so enormous it stretched every muscle in his face. “Ooh, that hurt.” He hoisted himself up on to his elbows
“Your mum’s been in three times already. She obviously thinks that the holiday is taking it out of you, and I’m sure she’s right. It’s a good job she doesn’t know what we got up to last night.
The mention of the previous night’s adventure caused Gordon to flop backwards and close his eyes again. “What a cracker that one was,” he murmured. Zack did not disagree. There was a pause of several seconds while the rest of Gordon woke up properly. “Did the brooms get off OK?” he asked, when he next opened his eyes.
“Yes,” Zack said. “Once I’d got you back into the bedroom I saw they had rental labels on. As soon as I ticked the “totally satisfied” boxes they were off like rockets. How did you find out about that place?
“Well,” said Gordon, “About a year ago, I was thinking that London couldn’t be the only place witches and wizards went for stuff. I mean, there had to be outlets in the provinces. And where more likely than Chester?”
Zack nodded. He couldn’t fault the logic.
“So, one night – it was a while back, and you were well out ...”
Zack raised an eyebrow. He’d not previously been aware that Gordon had taken any little dream excursions on his own.
“I nipped into town to check out my theory. There was so much psychic energy pulsating around Godstall Lane you couldn’t miss it. And there it was – Coincident Alley. I only had a quick look round. I didn’t want you to wake up and be worried.”
“That was decent of you,” Zack commented drily.
“But while I was looking in the window of ‘Rhedyn’s Rent-A-Broom’, Rhedyn herself dashed out and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
Zack nodded, and waited.
“Better get up then,” Gordon decided. He swung his legs out and stood up. He was looking forward to his bowl of cereal; but first, he had to answer the call of nature and splash some water on his face.
Zack couldn’t put it off any longer. “About the torque,” he said.
“Just a mo ...,” Gordon interrupted cheerfully. He couldn’t put it off any longer either.
When he came back from the bathroom, he was ready to throw his clothes on. His mum would have heard his movements and she’d be putting his cereal out. Once he’d had that he’d be ready for anything.
If the weather held, the plan was to have a walk around Gribbin Head on the other side of St Austell Bay. The Guide Book promised stunning views. That was fine with Gordon. His birthday was the following day, and he was really looking forward to his treat: a whole day at The Eden Project. “So, what about the torque?” he asked. He pulled a clean tee-shirt over his head.
“I promise you I brought it in here when I put you to bed,” Zack said. “I was going to put it on your bedside table; but then I thought your mum might come in and want to know where you got it from. That would be kind of tricky to explain.” Gordon grinned. Zack was putting it mildly. Then he frowned. He’d just remembered his SGGm’s claims about who his parents we
re. He definitely needed to talk that stuff over with Zack.
“So I thought I’d tuck it away at the back of a drawer where your mum would have no reason to look.”
Gordon grinned again. “Don’t tell me. You had a quick look when you got up this morning and it wasn’t there.”
Zack’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”
“Because it’s on the bedside table.”
Zack’s eyes swung to the bedside table. There was the lamp, and Gordon’s holiday reading, but no torque. He looked back at Gordon and saw the glint of ring-light in his eyes. “Look” Gordon said. He lifted his left hand and passed it over the top of the table. Zack could no longer see the ring on his finger. The faint outline of the torque appeared briefly, only for the time that the energy from the ring identified its form.
“Whoah!” he muttered.
“It was on the side of the bath when I went to the loo,” Gordon told him. “I think it’s going to follow me around. I think it can take care of itself.”
Zack gave a low whistle. Coming to terms with this torque was going be a challenge. He remembered what he had been told would happen when it got round Gordon’s neck. “Promise me Gordon,” he said urgently. It was scary, actually, how urgent he was. “Promise me you won’t put that thing on until we’ve had time to think through what might happen and how we’re going to handle it.
“I promise!” Gordon said readily. Last night had provided him with all the adventure he could handle for a while anyway. He needed a break.
Zack put his arm around his shoulder. “Good man,” he said. “We definitely need to talk the torque before we walk the walk.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Gordon told him. He paused, as he realised what he’d just said. “Actually, I do know about you, and we’re starving. Let’s eat!”
NOTES
RHEDYN; GORDON’S HOLIDAY READING
Chapter 53
It’s Just A Matter Of Time
A couple of hours later, they’d left the car-park above Menabilly Barton and were setting off south towards Gribbin Head. Victor was clutching the map, confident he would be able to guide them north along the coast to Polkerris. The plan was to stop at the Rashleigh Inn for lunch. They would be going in a rough circle and returning by inland footpath and lane to the car. The guidebook said it was four miles easy going through “classic Du Maurier country”.
A Wizard of Dreams (Myrddin's Heir Book 1) Page 16
