Colin and The Rise of The House of Horwood

by M. E. Eadie

  ***

  It was as though they were expected--the doorway through the brick wall at the end of the house was open, as was the entrance to the tower room with the looking glass. His heart was beating like a jackhammer as they entered.

  “Go ahead,” said Rhea encouraging him, “go talk to yourself.”

  “I don’t know if it works like that.”

  The truth was Colin didn’t want to go anywhere near the mirror. He didn’t want any more life-changing revelations, and so, he hesitated.

  “I’ll go,” said Spike striding up to the mirror and summarily knocking on the flat surface with his fist. He put his ear against the surface, looked at himself and then stuck out his tongue.

  Colin looked apprehensively at Rhea, but all she did was shrug. “Maybe being shot out of the cannon addled his brains,” offered Rhea.

  Spike turned around, his back to the mirror.

  “There’s nothing in there. Say, if Sergeant Peary is you’re great uncle, doesn’t that make Zuhayer you’re…”

  Spike never got a chance to finish the sentence, because appearing in the mirror was the adult form of Colin, a dark, incensed fury on his face. A hand shot out of the mirror and clipped Spike on the side of the head, knocking him to the floor.

  “Hey!” he exclaimed, picking himself up and glaring at the mirror, but the image was gone, leaving only their startled-looking reflections.

  “Did you see that?” asked Colin.

  “I think so,” responded Rhea.

  “See what? What hit me?” demanded Spike.

  “I think I hit you,” Colin admitted a bit bewildered.

  Before Rhea or Spike could do anything, Colin found himself walking to the mirror and extending his fingers into its surface. The previous experience at Halloween, of stepping through the looking glass and being clothed as his guardian spirit, had convinced him not to expect a hard surface to this mirror, either. The surface rippled away from his touch in concentric circles, as if the looking glass, which hung at a slight angle, was really a pond defying gravity.

  “Colin, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” said Rhea warily.

  Something grabbed him, a type of suctioning force, and began to pull him into the mirror. He felt the hands of his friends on his shoulder, trying to pull him back, but his momentum couldn’t be stopped; all three, Colin, Rhea and Spike fell into the mirror.

  “Wow!” exclaimed Spike looking around from where he was on his knees, “what is this place?”

  Rhea was also craning her neck to get a good look in all directions.

  Colin knew where they were. He had been here when Grandfather Thunder had given him the Phoenix tear pendant Rhea now wore round her neck. They were Inbetween. The sky was a flat, cloudless, pewter gray, and the earth they stood on was broken and cracked with thirst as though rain had ceased to exist. In all directions, there was nothing but a straight line marking the horizon. It seemed that they were the only ones in existence--if this could be called existence.

  “I don’t like this,” said Rhea watchfully. “How do we get out of here?”

  “That’s the problem,” replied Colin, “I have no idea.”

  “What? We’re stuck here? No water? No food?” Spike whined.

  “Distance is different here. It’s like this place has its own separate rules,” explained Colin taking a step, not really understanding.

  Colin stared and then began to turn. Rhea and Spike suddenly vanished.

  “Hey!” yelled Colin trying to remain composed.

  “We’re right here. Step forward,” said Rhea, her disconnected voice floating in the air.

  He hesitated, but it did sound like Rhea’s voice, so he took a step. Sure enough, Spike and Rhea appeared right in front of him, but everything had changed.

  The baked earth was gone, replaced by a carefully manicured lawn. On the horizon was the Phoenix tree.

  Around Rhea’s neck the Phoenix tear was glowing red. She stared at it, entranced. Pointing to the necklace, she said, “Is this supposed to be happening?”

  A heavy wind suddenly pressed down around them tugging on their clothes like unseen fingers, bringing with it a feeling of dark malevolence. In the wind were voices, thousands of voices, none of them friendly. Rhea moved in closer to Colin and Spike. Her hair whipped violently across her face. Spike had turned pale and was shivering, staring out at the horizon. On one distant point, the conical spout of a black dirt devil twisted into view. It quickly grew larger, coming directly at them. Then they spotted other spouts on the horizon, all coming at them; the entire plain seemed populated with them, no matter in which direction they looked. They were surrounded. As the whirlwinds came closer, they saw that spinning in the spiraling fury of each dirt devil were the blurred images of innumerable Shadow Nixes.

  “Run for the tree!” yelled Colin.

  Over the earth, feet barely touching the grass, legs blurring with speed, they ran. They made it beneath the skeletal fingers of the leafless tree just a few meters ahead of the dirt devils. Above them, the wide, circular aerie sheltered their heads. The Shadow Nixes detached themselves from the spinning winds and now circled them hungrily. Even though the funnels of wind had gone away, the soughing sound of malevolent voices still filled the air. Every now and then one of them would make a dash in trying to grab at their arms or legs, desperate to make contact with them.

  “Don’t let them touch you!” shouted Colin.

  “Don’t worry,” answered Rhea, the alarm rising in her voice, “I have no intention of letting them touch me!” She jumped to the side avoiding shadowy fingers.

  Spike had his eyes closed. His lips moved forming words but no sounds. As though answering his silent plea, his guardian Coyote sprung out from behind the tree, and took the foot of one of the Nixes in its jaws and sent it flying. The Coyote seemed to laugh as it jumped into the fray chasing the Nixes around frantically.

  “He’s going to need backup,” shouted Spike over the terrible keening voices that had just pitched up an angry octave, “there are too many of them!”

  Sure enough, where Coyote went the Shadow Nixes simply withdrew, while the others collapsed in on the tree, taking their turn lunging at them. It was only a matter of time before they made contact, even with Coyote. Colin tried to call Sergeant Peary, but it was as though there was a thick wall between them, stopping them from communicating.

  One Shadow Nix slipped past Coyote and made another slithering dash at Rhea and was just about to wrap its black fingers about her ankle when a glowing nimbus of red light burst about her. The Shadow Nixes withdrew, wailing in infuriated surprise. Coyote, who had just locked its jaws on a scrawny black leg, was joyously dragging the Nix back and forth in front of the tree. As quickly as it had come, the glow about Rhea faded.

  “What was that?” asked Colin staring at his friend.

  Rhea looked a little frazzled, her teardrop pendant was not only glowing, but also pulsing. She pointed to it. “Why is it doing that? What’s happening?”

  Colin looked up at the aerie. “I think, maybe, your guardian is coming.”

  “I sure hope so,” said Rhea looking scared.

  “This is where your guardian lives. Grandfather Thunder and I came here once before; he was seeking the pendant your guardian made for you,” explained Colin.

  “Well, I hope it gets here soon, because those Nixes are attacking again,” said Spike, “and we’re going to need the help.”

  Sure enough, Coyote was beginning to fade, to become indistinct; and the Shadow Nixes were now closing in. They were about to be overwhelmed by the rising crest of a black wave, powered by a sea of Nixes, when the Phoenix arrived.

  Announced by a musical cry that vibrated through the air and shivered through the Nixes, the indistinct form of the Phoenix appeared high in the sky. It plummeted to the earth leaving behind its distinctive contrail of orange-red flame; its long beak pointed at the Nixes
like a spear. While the most fearful of the Nixes fled, some hesitated. When Rhea and the boys realized that the flaming phoenix showed no sign of slowing, and was now coming at them like a javelin, it was too late to get out of its way. At the last moment the great bird, its form about the size of the massive aerie, looked as if it would crash into them; but instead, the bird began to taper in size, becoming smaller and smaller. Still it sped at them like a small, deadly, fiery dart.

  “Watch out!” cried Colin when he realized the Phoenix was aiming itself directly at Rhea’s chest. With Maestro’s story of how he had been blinded echoing its warning voice in his head, Colin wasn’t sure if Rhea was in danger or not; but he wasn’t going to take any chances. He stepped in front of her.

  Two things happened. By stepping in front of her he put himself that much closer to the few Shadow Nixes, which had brashly remained behind, and he stumbled and fell. Arms flailing for balance, he fell forward. He saw it coming, but couldn’t do anything about it. A Shadow Nix was reaching for him. Simultaneously their hands came together and the last thing Colin remembered was a sneering, mocking voice echoing everywhere, then being swept up by an impenetrable darkness.

  Rhea heard Colin’s cry too late. She reached for him as he stumbled; but the phoenix, now the size of a small insect hit Rhea’s pendant, knocking her backwards. An ensuing explosion of red light enveloped them and she too lost consciousness.

  Spike and his panting guardian Coyote surveyed the silent aftermath of the battle. Gone were the Shadow Nixes, the Phoenix and the aerie. They had shifted location again. Rhea and Colin were stretched out, supine on the grass. Then he realized where he was standing, the toes of his shoes on the edge of a cliff that plummeted a thousand feet down into a surging, white-crested sea. He inched himself backwards, all the while repeating, “Easy does it old boy, easy does it!” and turned seeking the security of his guardian spirit, but Coyote had disappeared. The rattle of wood on wood sounded behind him and he twirled about.

  Grandfather Thunder stood up from his cross-legged sitting position. The head on his staff was that of a serpent, and its eyes shone a bright blue. While the staff seemed ominous, Grandfather Thunder greeted him with a grave smile, a look of concern on his face.

  “I was wondering when you three would make it here.” He walked tensely up to Rhea and Colin. Alternately he held the head of the staff over Rhea and Colin. The snake seemed to be examining them. Over Rhea, the eyes flickered from blue through all the colors of the rainbow and back to blue. As the snake examined Colin, the eyes stopped at red, a dark blood red. Grandfather Thunder shook his head sadly and sighed heavily.