A Wizard of Dreams (Myrddin's Heir Book 1)

by Robin Chambers

  “No,” Zack said.

  Her expression changed immediately to one of concern. “What’s the matter? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Nothing! Nothing ... Mum. Looking at you like what? How am I looking at you?” There was a tinge of desperation in Zack’s voice. He hadn’t had a chance to rehearse! He had to give a convincing performance right now!

  “VICTOR!” Edith called out. “Something’s wrong with Gordon!”

  “What?” Gordon’s dad came straight over. “What’s up, son?”

  “Nothing, I’m fine, honestly!” Zack creased Gordon’s face into an awkward grin. “Honestly.” He took a step back and twirled around. “I’m fine, see?”

  “You are not fine,” said his mum, decidedly. This was not her Gordon. His voice sounded different. His whole response was somehow … weird.

  “It’s probably just the heat,” Victor said reassuringly. “He says he’s fine. He’s not feeling faint or he couldn’t twirl like that. He looks OK to me. Just a bit hot, maybe.”

  Edith was right. Zack was not fine. He was suddenly in sole possession of his best friend’s body. What was more, it was working for him. For the first time, Gordon’s parents could hear him. And his feelings …! His feelings were visceral. It was overwhelming. He took a step towards them, seeing the concern written all over their faces.

  “I love you too,” he found himself saying. He tried to show them how much with his eyes, just before they brimmed over.

  “Come on,” said his mum, grabbing a hand. “We’re going to get some fresh air.”

  “Good idea,” his dad agreed.

  Zack did not raise any objection. He let his parents shepherd him down the swaying stairs, tears spilling down his cheeks. There was a tight band around his chest. His thoughts were running into each other.

  “Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?” That’s Latin for ‘Who will guard the guardians?’

 

  Gordon found he was standing on an ancient, wooden jetty, next to a moored wooden boat of similar antiquity. The boat was wide enough for three to stand abreast, and long enough to carry the body of a dying king. Spoon-blade oars were fastened to its rowlocks. It also had a mast and a square red sail. The ripples of the oncoming tide broke with a sullen sound on a rock-strewn beach. The sky was grey, the air was still, and no birds sang.

  “There is magic in this place,” he murmured. It was curious that he felt no fear.

  The body he now occupied was of similar proportions to the one he had just left. This one was clad in chainmail so light, so tightly woven and so strong that it might have been crafted by elves from mithril. The light grey mesh was surmounted by a white tunic made from a material with the smooth softness of silk. These were the trappings of a young squire apprenticed to a knight. The small scabbard strapped to his belt was bereft of the dagger it seemed to have been made to cradle.

  He wondered if his sense of being safe came from this layer of light armour or from the torque around his neck. His thoughts, he realised, were in tune with the rhythm that was all around him. There were fairies near. He recognised their cadence, felt their force. Where there had been no one only moments ago, an old man now stood, silent, at the end of the jetty. He bore a marked resemblance to Gandalf the Grey. Or was he more like Albus Dumbledore?

  Were it not so, I would have told you.

  His hair and beard were almost as long as the robe that flowed from his shoulders to the ground. He carried a knotted staff of hard, dark wood. As he gazed at Gordon, the wrinkles round his eyes appeared to deepen in a smile of welcome. He had the kindest face Gordon had ever seen.

  Gordon walked along the jetty to meet him. The old man inclined his head in solemn greeting. “You are most welcome, Torque Wearer and Bearer of the Ring of Light. My name, perhaps, is Myrddin. You may have heard of me.”

  Gordon pressed his palms together and bowed in his turn. “I’m afraid not, though I seem to know you, or at least to think I do.”

  The old man nodded. “There are many names by which men know me. Too often those names have hindered more than helped. Your coming has long been prophesied. Many in your world have died, waiting.”

  He swept his staff around to indicate the forest fringing the beach behind him. “Here in Avalon we do not die. Here in Tír na nÓg we follow old ways. We have been waiting many of your years to welcome you. And now your time draws near.”

  Gordon stared up at him. “I’m eleven today.”

  “You have much to learn” Myrddin told him, “and I to teach.” He turned from the jetty and began to cross the narrow beach towards a path which ran between tall trees. Gordon followed him, ready as always to learn.

  “You may call me a wizard,” Myrddin said. “If so, I am the greatest our two worlds have ever known. I have appeared in many guises, for as long as stories have been told. My names are legion, but the power is one. Your world has long had need of it, and now the time has come.”

  He smiled down at Gordon. “You are my heir,” he said simply.

  NOTES

  HARPY EAGLE; VISCERAL; QUIS CUSTODIET IPSOS CUSTODES; WIDE ENOUGH FOR THREE TO STAND ABREAST; TO BREAK WITH A SULLEN SOUND; AND NO BIRDS SANG; MITHRIL; HE RECOGNISED THEIR CADENCE; WHERE IT NOT SO, I WOULD HAVE TOLD YOU; HERE IN AVALON, HERE IN TÍR NA NÓG, WE FOLLOW OLD WAYS; MY NAMES ARE LEGION

  Chapter 57

  The Sorcerer’s Apprentice

  Once they were outside the link building, Zack took in several deep breaths of the cooler, dryer air, as instructed by an anxious mother. He felt his head begin to clear. “You’re right,” he said, smiling up at both parents. “I do feel better.” Being Gordon’s guardian angel now meant taking care of his body. It also meant doing his best to stop Edith and Victor from worrying themselves to death. It was a good way of passing time. He would otherwise have been worrying himself to death about where his alter-ego was, and how he was getting on.

  “Have another sip of water,” Edith advised.

  Zack duly complied. “I’m tons better now, honestly,” he said.

  She smiled, as if almost convinced. “Let’s sit down for a while, and get something to eat.” She held out her hand and Zack took it. It felt warm and reassuring. He began to relax. “Gordon will be back soon,” he told himself. In the meantime, he would do what he could for him and mind the shop.

  This was a voyage of discovery for him, too. So this is what it felt like to have your very own body, to be flesh and blood! It was engaging, revealing, intoxicating, complicated. “I think it needs the loo,” he told Edith.

  “Sorry, what needs the loo?” she asked, looking around.

  “Sorry,” Zack said hastily. “I meant to say I think I need the loo.”

  His mother gave him a look. “Do you, or don’t you?”

  “I need the loo.” He told her.

  “There’s one in there,” she said, pointing. You can go now before we eat.”

  “No worries, son,” Victor said cheerfully. “I’ll come with you. It’s one of the few advantages of being a man: there’s hardly ever a queue.”

  “The forest holds many secrets,” Myrddin told Gordon. They were making their way along a path through the wood. “Here we may find flowers, fruits and leaves, herbs, shoots and shrubs, roots, fungi, sap and bark, which measured and combined yield potions, ointments, salves and remedies.”

  He rested an arm on Gordon’s shoulders. “I can show you how life may be prolonged or taken away, how senses are bewitched and souls ensnared, desires directed and secrets revealed.”

  He seemed a lot nicer than Professor Snape. “Can you teach me how to cure cancer?” Gordon asked.

  Myrddin nodded approvingly. “To heal those sick in body is worthy; to heal those sick in mind as great an aim.” Gordon felt a force running through him: searching, healing, strengthening. “Another question you might ask,” Myrddin went on, “is: can I show you how to stop your race from racing towards its own destruction
?”

  “You can.” Gordon said. “I know you can.”

  The trees gave way to a clearing. It ran down to a lake both wide and long, with densely wooded hills on either side. Beyond it, on a jagged hill of rock, stood a castle of grey stone. It grew out of the granite like a living thing. “This isn’t a dream,” Gordon said.

  “No dream,” Myrddin replied. He waved his staff at the clouds, swishing it east and west. They parted like curtains, and the lake now sparkled, clean and crystal clear, though its waters were as still as mirrored glass. The light bounced off the castle’s topmost towers, bathing them in a warm, enchanted glow.

  A boat sat at the lake’s slow-lapping edge. Gordon saw that it was just the right size for an old sorcerer in front and a young apprentice behind. Myrddin pointed at the distant, dreaming spires. “Our way lies thither.”

  Chapter 58

  A Leap Of Faith

  Zack emerged from the Gents, flushed with the success of the mission. He and Victor waited for Edith, who was only a few seconds longer in the Ladies. They were now ready to decide what they were going to eat. All the baking and dish-compilation was going on in front of them. It smelled delicious. Zack found he was really looking forward to stuffing more fuel into what is really – when you come to think about it and actually have to take responsibility for looking after it – a highly complicated set of interactive biological mechanisms.

  “Do you want me to see if they do a tuna melt?” Edith asked the birthday boy. This was one of Gordon’s absolute favourite things.

  “What is there that’s vegetarian?” Zack asked. He fought off a sudden urge to vomit at the thought of eating flesh.

  Edith pursed her lips. Zack strove to keep his face as innocently neutral as possible. “Their tomato and cheese pizzas look tasty.”

  “Perfect!” Zack exclaimed enthusiastically. “Ooh, and can I have some fresh salad with it?”

  “Your wish is my command,” said Edith with a grim little smile.

  “The birthday boy can have whatever he wants,” Victor said, ruffling Gordon’s hair. “Bring me whatever looks best, my Darling. You know me, I’ll eat anything.”

  “What do you want to drink?” his mum asked Gordon. Zack looked at the labels on the bottles. His head was spinning around all the possibilities, things he’d never tried before.

  “Apple and elderflower sounds interesting; I’ll try that if I may.”

  “I’ll have whichever local brew has the highest A.B.V.” said Victor cheerfully. “Gordon and I will grab a table. I’ll help you with the trays when you’re ready.”

  Edith set off on her quest. It was still quite early for lunch. Victor and Zack slid themselves on to a bench alongside a long, empty table. From there they could watch their favourite female going about the business of feeding them. “So,” Victor said. “What do you think of the place so far? Is it up to expectations?”

  “Great,” Zack said, “we’re really enjoying it. I mean I hope you’re really enjoying it. I certainly am,” he added hastily. He was beginning to appreciate how skilful Gordon had become at hiding him.

  “Yes. What an undertaking, eh? It must have taken real vision – plus a few million quid - to take a worked-out clay pit and turn it into a Garden of Eden. I’m glad I’m not paying the heating and water bill for keeping that tropical biome up and running.”

  “A hundred and forty million,” Zack said crisply. “Dreams don’t come cheap. And you are, though, aren’t you,” he added, “with the money everyone pays to get in.”

  “That’s true,” Victor agreed. He looked at his son curiously. “That temperature and humidity seems to have affected your voice. It sounds different somehow, maybe a bit deeper.”

  “I’m sure it’ll get back to normal,” Zack assured him. “Dad, I think Mum’s a bit worried about me. Can you tell her I’m fine? I’m just getting over the heat and the humidity in the biome.”

  “Yes, sure,” Victor said. He reached over and patting Gordon’s hand. “It’s a mum’s job to worry. You know that.”

  Zack smiled at him. “I do know that, Dad.” He was quite enjoying calling Victor “Dad”. It felt … exclusive.

  “Your mum’s ready for a bit of help,” Victor said. “You stay here and mind our spot.”

  “OK, Dad,” Zack said. He leaned back and tried crossing his legs. It was going quite well, probably. “Come back soon, Gordon,” he whispered. He sent his fondest thoughts and bestest wishes out into the ether.

 

  Two coiled loops of rope were attached to the prow. Myrddin cast them into the water, and instant ripples approached the boat from either side. With perfect timing, a pair of dolphins broke the surface, arced and re-entered with almost no splash. Each caught a rope in its mouth and they set off side by side across the lake. The boat moved smoothly and swiftly. Gordon was fascinated by the streamlined strength of the two magnificent mammals, clearly visible in the clean, clean water.

  “You already have some power over the elements,” Myrddin commented. “You show great promise.”

  “Poor is the pupil ...” Gordon murmured. He was rather like Leonardo when he was that age, according to Zack.

  Myrddin’s rich laugh rippled through the air. “Indeed. We shall see, young scholar. Or rather, I already see, and you will see. Prescience is another of the skills we will practise together.”

  The water became shallow: they were nearing the other side. With synchronised skill, the dolphins released the ropes and curved away. The boat’s momentum took it into the pebbles at the water’s edge. Gordon scanned the lake, hoping for another sight of the dolphins. The surface of the water remained unbroken. He had just given up hope when Myrddin flicked his staff …

  Five dolphins rose as one, curving and flashing in the sun. They reached the apex of their leap and turned to meet the surface with one splash. Gordon cried out in delight and clapped his hands. Once more Myrddin’s generous laugh boomed out. “Happy birthday!” he said, and floated nimbly from boat to dry land. His awestruck apprentice followed him.

  NOTES

  A.B.V.; POOR IS THE PUPIL …; PRESCIENCE

  Chapter 59

  The First Meeting

  Edith and Victor carried the trays back to the table. Their son seemed to be absorbed in touching the tips of his fingers with his thumb on both hands simultaneously. At the same time, he was crossing and uncrossing his legs, and laughing. It was as though he was in the process of discovering something quite new and exciting.

  “How’s it going?” she asked him. They unloaded the trays. “Your dad tells me you’re fine.”

  “I am. I really am,” Zack said.

  “Yes,” said Edith, “I think you are.”

  Zack plunged Gordon’s teeth into a piece of the freshly baked pizza and closed his eyes in bliss. “Oh wow!” he said. That tastes wonderful,” he finished slightly lamely, having suddenly realised his reaction was over the top.

  “I’m glad you like it,” Edith said, evenly, her eyes fixed on him. “That cheese looks like feta. Is it real feta, do you think?”

  Zack dutifully plucked a little square of it off his pizza and popped it into his mouth. He closed his eyes so that he could concentrate on his taste buds. “Well, it’s certainly a crumbly white goats’ cheese soaked in brine,” he said, “but whether it actually came from Greece or not ...”

  He stopped and opened his eyes. Edith was staring at him, her eyes brimming. He bit his lip at the realisation she had laid a trap for him, and he had put his foot right in it. Victor was obliviously tucking into his plateful of extremely tasty, locally sourced ingredients, and didn’t notice anything untoward.

  Edith recovered quickly, reached into her handbag for a tissue and blew her nose. She gave her eyes a surreptitious wipe.

 

  There was a glade to cross. On the other side, a broad path led to the lowest reaches of the castle. Gordon could hear the raucous cawing of rooks and the ascending
flutes of skylarks. He could see rabbits bobbing and hares leaping. He caught a glimpse of a fox slinking from bush to bush in a blush of red fur.

  The air was alive with butterflies - tortoiseshells, peacocks, monarchs and red admirals – and the steady hum of bees. Standing alert at the edge of the wood was a magnificent stag. Gordon counted seven points on each of its huge antlers.

  He heard the thud of approaching hooves, and a gorgeous grey mare galloped into the glade out of the woods to the East. It was ridden by two girls in simple dresses. Their feet were bare and their long hair was flying. The one holding the reins was taller, and probably older. She was using her arms to steady the child seated in front of her.

  The mare snorted to a halt beside Myrddin. He greeted both girls with the same courtesy he had shown to Gordon. “Well met, Einioes,” he said to the tall girl, “and Graslonrwydd,” he added, nodding to the girl who sat in front. “This is Gwythyr, my new apprentice.”

  Gordon wondered if they could be sisters. They were not much alike. The younger girl was about the same age as he was, and she stared at him with frank curiosity. The gaze of the older one was cooler, more appraising. She might already have reached the superior age of twelve. Each had a white rose pinned in her hair.

  If Myrddin could have many names, Gordon supposed he could get used to having two or three of his own. Gordon, Edmund, and now Gwythyr. A rose by any other name ... This last name had a Celtic ring to it. It seemed appropriate, given his current location.

  “Well met, Master Gwythyr,” said Einioes. Her voice was as level and cool as her glance. Gordon bowed in courtly fashion. He remembered a docudrama he had seen about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. “Well met, Milady,” he murmured.

  The younger girl seemed to find this funny. She was pretty, and her eyes sparkled with fun and mischief. Gordon found himself hoping they could get to know one another. As if he had read Gordon’s mind, Myrddin reached up and touched Graslonrwydd lightly on her neck with his staff. Then he turned and placed its tip on the torque round Gordon’s neck. “Your paths will cross,” he told them.

  “Until then, Master Gwythyr,” Graslonrwydd said, her voice teasing and playful. He felt his spirits lift as if rising to meet hers at the height of the horse’s back. Einioes dug her heels into the mare’s flank and they cantered away, towards the woods in the west. Watching her go, Gordon was aware of a fluttering feeling in his stomach. He did not know what name to give it, and made a mental note to get Zack’s advice on the matter. It was the thought of Zack that made him wonder how long he had been away.