Although he had the ability to develop his powers further, at this stage in his development he still lacked the concentration to do so, as well as having a poor knowledge of magic to be able to master the full potential power of the Wyvern’s. It would be dangerous for him to do so until he had learned to master his emotions. Noticing that Henry was looking at him, Nog gave a rather nervous smile and looked away. “Master,” Grog said again, to get his attention. “The dark one knows of your coming,” Grog muttered. Henry sat forward. “Now tell me something I don’t know,” he said, sounding a little sarcastic, ignoring his master’s sarcasm. Grog continued. “He wants you to come… will not try and stop you.”
Grog paused to allow Henry to take in the importance of what he had just said, Henry was about to say something in return but for the first time since they met, Grog interrupted him. “He will not harm you… or try and stop you from reaching the Lanthirphen waterfalls… but he will do all in his power to kill Nog… and me.” Henry sat paralysed for a second, not really knowing how to react to such a statement. “And why would he want to kill you and not me…? I’m the real threat to him,” he replied. Grog got up and moved a little closer. “The dark one needs you to join him, master… Just like all the others.”
He paused again to look over to Nog for him to help him, but instead Nog looked away. Grog looked back and studied Henry with his big, brown eyes for a second. “He will not want to kill you… He wants… he needs the Wyvern and the only way he can keep it here… on this earth… is to keep master alive.” He paused again. “Go on,” Henry insisted, now impatient and uncomfortable with where this conversation was going. Grog looked back over to Nog, but he still wouldn’t give his brother eye contact, leaving the difficult work to his brother. “Master,” Grog said, now looking Henry directly in the eye, “all but one host had been subdued by the dark master… Over time they were controlled by him… The Wyvern had to…” Grog stopped short of finishing his sentence. Henry lurched forward, forcing Grog to back off. “Had to what?!” he shouted. At this point Nog decided that he should help his brother out. “Had to kill the host, my lord,” Nog said. “It needed to escape the confines of the human body so that the dark one could not use it… It had to be free.”
“Am I hearing this right…? Are you saying, if I am not strong enough to resist the darkness… the Wyvern will kill me?” Neither Grog nor Nog answered and for a moment this left an awkward silence between them. “Well, that’s just great!” Henry bellowed. “I am in danger not only from the thing I am supposed to fight… but also from the thing that is meant to protect me!” Nothing more was said for a while. Henry sat, slumped against the tree, whilst Grog and Nog sat some distance from him in total silence, waiting to see what he would say or do next. To their surprise, Henry did nothing more. Instead he just closed his eyes and lay back, wishing that all this was just a nightmare and when he opened his eyes, it would all be gone and his life back to how it was.
The night dragged on, no one feeling much for sleeping or for talking, all deep within their own thoughts. Ever since the Wyvern had invaded his body, Henry had believed that it was there to protect him against the darkness, so to hear that it had killed other hosts was, to say the least, a shock. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have enough to worry about. It was all becoming too much to cope with. After what seemed the longest night of his life, Henry watched the sun as it showed its first rays of light. Getting up, he stretched and, without speaking, put his shoulder bag over his head. Grog and his brother both stood up and waited in anticipation.
“How far is it before we reach these waterfalls…? What did you call them?” Nog stepped forward. “Lanthirphen… master,” he said nervously. “Yes, master… Lanthirphen waterfalls,” Grog affirmed. “Whatever… How far are they?” Henry said rudely. “If we leave now,” Grog answered, “we’d reach them before nightfall.” Henry stood and studied the two fluff balls in front of him for a moment. “Tell me,” he said, pausing for thought, “you both say you have skills… Show me,” he ordered. “Not later… but now.”
At first, neither Grog nor Nog moved, but both gave him a large smile, pleased that finally, after so many years, and so many masters, they now had the opportunity to show off their skills. Nog was the first to demonstrate. One second he was standing next to his brother, and then in the blink of an eye he was gone, only to reappear beside Henry, making him jump out of his wits, then was gone again and reappeared back next to Grog. “Can do more,” Nog said, feeling pleased with himself. With that, he started to expand, becoming larger and larger until he became as tall as the trees that surrounded them. But that wasn’t all: he then started to shimmer just before he became totally transparent. Henry could just make out his faint outline, but if you were not looking for him, you would never have seen him. Grog sank back to his original size, at the same time making himself visible again. “That was amazing,” Henry said, sounding astonished. Nog was so pleased that he started to dance about with excitement, repeatedly singing, “Happy that master’s pleased… Happy that master’s pleased.”
Without waiting for Nog to stop dancing about, Grog started to transform. At first Henry didn’t notice, too distracted by Nog. Then, in horror, Henry turned just in time to watch Grog slowly become something that you would see only in your worst nightmares. He was on all fours, and his arms had now become powerful front legs, ending in large, curled, sharp-looking claws. His eyes had now become half their original size, but there was a real darkness about them. His fluffy fur was now coarse and spiky. Grog then opened his mouth, showing that it was laden with large, knife-edged teeth. Henry stepped back a little, not sure how to react: this was his friend and protector, so he shouldn’t fear it… Or should he? The thing in front of him was no longer Grog, and was so terrifying that Henry no longer recognised him as the cute fluffy ball.
As Henry stepped back, Grog roared in anger, making the ground move so vigorously that it generated a vibration so strong that it broke branches from trees, and so violent that Henry had to grab hold of the nearest tree and hold on for support. As Grog roared again, Henry was forced to close his eyes and lower his head for protection against flying objects.
Moments went by before Henry braved a quick look, and through the falling debris he could just make out the two figures, then as the debris cleared he noticed that Nog was lightly stroking his brother’s back, However, Grog was still transformed but had his head lowered and was breathing heavily. To Henry, it looked as though Nog was trying to calm his brother down, and to his relief it seemed to be working. With the aid and comfort of his brother, Grog slowly managed to calm him down enough to transform himself back to his normal self. But it was obvious that his transformation took a lot out of him. He looked weak and a little unstable, so his brother sat him down and continued to comfort him. Henry felt it wise to keep his distance until he was sure it was safe to do otherwise. He was impressed as well as amused by Nog’s transformation, but horrified by Grog’s. Never in a million years would he have thought such a cute, friendly creature could be capable of transforming itself into something so terrifying.
The debris around them finally settled but Henry still found himself clinging to the tree, too terrified to let go and immediately feeling a little stupid for doing so. Grog was now back to his cute, friendly self and back to the companion he had become so close to over the past few days. But Henry’s whole attitude towards Grog had changed, partly out of fear but also because Grog wasn’t what he had always seemed to be.
“Master,” Grog said, sounding concerned. “Didn’t mean to frighten you,” Henry straightened himself up and dusted down his clothes. “Impressive,” Henry managed to say after clearing his throat. “How often… I mean how many times have you had to do that?” he continued, still a little shaken by the experience. “Never,” Grog replied. “Our brothers have done the fighting… Me and Nog had to stay clear.” Nog stepped forward, no longer stroking his brother’s back. “Had to stay safe… brothers
told us to,” he said, almost in tears. Grog looked to his brother as memories flooded back. “If used our skills… our brothers,” Grog said but choked and couldn’t continue what he was saying. “Brothers would still be with us,” Nog said, finishing the sentence for him. Henry walked up to both and put one hand on Nog’s back and the other on Grog’s. They both looked up with such a surprised look on their faces that Henry took his hands away. “Sorry… I didn’t mean,” Henry said, trying to apologise. “No master’s ever…” Henry then realised that the surprised look wasn’t because they didn’t like being touched, it was because that they had never been shown compassion by a host master before.
“You are different,” Grog said, “you care… we feel you care for us… and for others.” Nog nodded. “No master has ever cared the way you do,” he said, affirming. Henry smiled. “I do care… I think that you are both very special… and I’m glad that you’re here,” he said, surprising himself. Both Grog and Nog gave him one of their brightest smiles, then looked at each other, clasped hands and started to dance around as if nothing had happened. Henry watched with amusement for a moment before interrupting. “We have a long day ahead of us… I think we should be on our way.” Both stopped dancing and nodded, still with grins across their faces. Henry smiled to himself. “Lead the way,” he said, standing to one side. Grog was the first to take the lead, but Nog stayed back to allow Henry to go next. It was midday and the rains had returned with vengeance. Again, Henry was soaked to the skin and feeling more than a little sorry for himself. Grog and Nog were still both in good spirits, pleased that they had the chance to show off their skills, but even happier to know that their master appreciated their company, which only added to his misery.
The three hadn’t spoken since they set out that morning. Henry’s concentration was on what might lie ahead. Now knowing that the shadow master wanted him alive made a great deal difference to how he first envisaged their encounter would be: he had always expected that the shadow master would try and put an end to him as soon as they met. However, what Grog had told him now changed everything. He took a quick look at his two companions. They both seemed very excited, considering what they could be walking into. Either they had no idea of the dangers that lay ahead of them, which was unlikely, or, more to the point, they were confident that they didn’t have to worry about it. With the display of “their skills” earlier on that morning, perhaps they didn’t.
Not having slept for two nights now, Henry was feeling weary, so without saying anything to the two brothers, he took off his shoulder bag and flung it on the ground, then slumped down on a rain-soaked log. Both Grog and his brother stopped and waited. “How much further?” he asked wearily. “We don’t know,” Nog said, reluctantly. Henry looked at him with disdain. “What do you mean?” Grog stepped up to Henry. “We don’t know,” he confirmed. Henry sighed, but managed to hold back his impatience. “Okay… let’s try it another way… When will we get to the falls?” The two brothers looked at each other. “We do know.” Henry sighed again but this time put his face in his hands. “Okay… when?” He sighed, without looking up. “Before darkness falls, master,” Nog answered.
Mylon ordered his men to break camp that morning, Alk and other commanders were busy organising the troops. It was agreed by all that the main body of troops, under the command of the young but competent Officer Barhador, along with Bert and Ben, were to go back to patrol the crossing, ensuring that nothing else could cross over to their realm. Two troopers were to cross back to the palace and report to Commander Trammell. Mylon was taking no more chances and would take every precaution to ensure that his people would remain safe, and in order to do that he needed the crossing to be patrolled on both sides. Despite what Henry had said, Mylon, Alk, Bree and the sisters still all felt that he needed support, so they, along with a few hand-picked seasoned troopers, were to travel to the Lanthirphen waterfalls and hope that they got there before it was too late to be of any help. Henry had insisted that they all stay well away from any confrontation with the dark one, but all the while wanting them to be there with him. Mylon, on the other hand, argued that with the sister’s powers and their skills it wouldn’t be a burden on him – in fact, the opposite. If the darkness had just one of its hideous creatures aiding him, what’s to say he hadn’t got more. Henry might be walking straight into a trap.
Henry senior, however, had other ideas. He didn’t cherish the idea of spending too much time with his sisters, although the pain in his head and the damage done by the shadow master needed attention, and that they were the only chance he had if he wanted it healed. He had spent most of his time in the camp alone, allowing the others to make their plans and do whatever they needed to do. Nothing more had been said to him since his stand-off with Sophia. He could or – more to the point – should have told them of his encounter with the dark one, but knowing Sophia and her mistrusting nature, she would have accused him of siding with it, so he felt that it would be safer, for him at least, to say nothing. For most of the time, he was sitting alone and was doing so when the camp was attacked by darklings, and just managed to retreat to safety and watch as young Henry dispersed them by using the Wyvern. His nephew was rapidly becoming a very powerful host, and was now more than a match for the shadow master. However, he knew that the dark one would know that by now and would not risk an attack on him unless it was absolutely necessary. No… The shadow master had other ways to get the upper hand, one of which was persuasion.
It would be true to say that the shadow master was a very powerful force. That said, no one really knew how powerful: to his knowledge nobody had ever had to fight it head on. But it was common knowledge to him and other guardians that it had always managed to influence host masters of the past through persuasion and win them over to the dark side. Unfortunately for it and for the hosts, the Wyvern had always escaped, leaving the hosts dead and the dark one empty-handed. But the shadow master had time on its side. It knew that it would be only a matter of time before someone came along strong enough to hold the Wyvern: young Henry might just be that person. Influencing and manipulating others was the shadow master’s strongest weapon.
Young Henry possessed power enough to defend himself against the strongest of attacks… But he was young and there was a real possibility that he could be influenced and won over to the dark side, a possibility that couldn’t be ignored. Henry senior was now sitting alone in the centre of the clearing. The main camp had been dismantled and all had left. If it wasn’t for the damage his nephew had done earlier, he would never have known anybody had been there. It felt almost eerie as he looked around the site. The elves had done such a good job in clearing up after them: no evidence was left to even indicate that they were ever there, except for a few dark areas where the fires had been, but they were so well concealed, you’d never know they had been there.
It seemed that Henry senior was invisible to the others most time. There was the odd glance by his sisters; other than that, no one seemed to notice him, or even care that he was there. His nephew had left some time before the others, and at one point he thought to follow him and offer his assistance, but thought better of it. Besides, the two fluff ball brothers would be more than enough help. The more Henry thought of the possibility of his nephew being manipulated over to the dark side, the more he convinced himself that he should be there to try and ensure that it didn’t happen. True, his mother and aunt could help aid young Henry in a fight; but he could already be lost to the shadow master by the time they got there. He, on the other hand, could help. For a large part of his life, manipulating people was all he had ever done: that’s how he managed to be so successful, it wasn’t due to his skills in business. No… He was successful because he used other people’s skills and knowledge to his own advantage. He may be a weak wielder of magic, but he was stronger than most when it came to negotiation. He had always assumed that his nephew could put up a colossal fight against the darkness, a clashing of two powerful beings. But w
hat if he was wrong? What if they were all wrong? The more he thought about it, the more sense it made to him. The shadow master may not be looking for a fight and if he was right, then his nephew would definitely need his help.
Now resigned to the fact that he would have to go to his nephew’s aid, Henry reluctantly set off in the direction of Lanthirphen Falls. He knew how to get there, but had no idea how far it was or how long it would take him. More worryingly, would he survive the journey? He had no way of knowing what hideous creatures might be out there just waiting for somebody like him to come along. But there was one thing that he knew for sure, and that was he would have to try.
Alone and afraid, Henry senior had to stop frequently to rest and reassure himself that the way ahead was clear by using what little skills he had to scan the surrounding area. After a while he lost all sense of time. However, judging by light, he guessed it was late afternoon and he still had a long way to go, so, instead of pressing on, he decided while there was still light that he would set up shelter with what little he could find around him. By the time darkness fell, Henry was settled in his small, poorly constructed shelter. Not having much at hand, the shelter was poorly made from dead branches and moss. Huddled up for warmth, he sat looking out into the rain, feeling somewhat sorry for himself. The rain was heavy but his makeshift shelter did give him some relief from the wet, mainly because it was well sheltered and concealed within the trees. It wasn’t perfect, but he was out of the wind and hopefully out of sight from prying eyes.
Between Darkness and the Light Page 46
