The Magic Lands

by Mark Hockley

  WHITE MAGIC

  "It’s called Thauma's Ring," Mo said in answer to Tom’s question. They were travelling north-west, as instructed by Dredger, the light having returned whilst they slept. Half remembered dreams troubled Tom, but he pushed them aside, his eagerness to learn more about their destination dominating his thoughts. The big man led the way with a confident stride, his mind fixed on the goal he had set for them.

  "What's it for?" persisted Tom.

  "It is more a case of what was it for," returned the badger, moving surely beside him. Jack hung back a little bringing up the rear in silence, apparently preoccupied with other things.

  "So it's not used now?"

  "No, not anymore. But once it was a wondrous place, a focal point for great power and magic."

  Tom tried to imagine the way it must have been so long ago. "Why did it end?"

  Mo looked briefly at the boy. "The Wolf came."

  "Oh," said Tom softly. The Wolf. What was this creature who they feared so much? He was about to ask the badger this when a call from just ahead interrupted him.

  "There!" proclaimed Dredger. "It is a sign."

  Mo and the two boys hurried to the man's side and saw what had excited him. A few yards in front of them, standing in the middle of a small clearing was a deer. But what made the sighting remarkable was the animal's colour. The deer was jet black. It stared at them with a fixed gaze, proud and still under their scrutiny.

  "Why doesn't it run?" whispered Tom, but Dredger hissed at him to remain silent.

  Then, as if the creature had been given leave to go, it suddenly sprang off through the trees.

  "It is gone," said Dredger with genuine sadness in his voice.

  "Yes," Mo answered, "but I for one am not certain it was a good omen."

  The tall man turned quickly and glowered down at the animal. "What is your meaning?" he demanded.

  "My meaning," retorted Mo, regarding the man carefully, "is that since you were last here in these lands things have changed. No longer do the old laws apply as once they did. Our deliverance has been given over to powers which you can not truly understand, at least for now. The Wolf rules here and it has seen to it that the old magic was lost, or disowned, put aside by the so called enlightened, the pragmatic. A treasure left hidden for so long may not be easily refound."

  Dredger glared darkly at the badger and then fleetingly at Tom. "I know the laws," he said finally. "The old power cannot be destroyed. You will see that when we reach The Circle. You harbour too many doubts, Mo, and I am surprised to find you so lacking in faith. Some of the things that you say are very near to heresy. Have you become a heretic, old one?"

  Mo shook his head. "I merely wish to warn you against the evil that walks these lands. There is much you do not know."

  "So you say," murmured the man and turned away, not willing to discuss the matter further. He stood alone for a moment as if in meditation, then at length he gestured ahead with an outstretched hand. "It is time to move on."

  As they set off, a grave silence between them, Tom glanced over at Jack and saw that his friend wore an odd, almost dreamy expression, his face pallid. "Jack?" he said, moving beside him.

  "Yes, Tom." There was something in Jack’s tone, a coolness perhaps which caught Tom off-guard.

  "Are you all right?" Tom looked into Jack's eyes and just for a moment he thought that he saw something move across them, a fleeting shadow. "Jack!?" he urged again.

  "I'm fine...fine," the boy assured him and smiled.

  "Good," Tom managed, but he did not feel entirely convinced. They continued to walk, the boys now slightly behind Dredger and the badger who were conversing in low voices.

  "Is it a long way?" asked Jack absently, as if he were wondering aloud.

  "I'm not really sure," Tom answered, "but I don't think it's very far."

  "That's good," sighed Jack, "I'm tired. I need to sleep."

  Tom studied the other boy and was concerned at how ashen his skin had become. The curious shadow he thought he had seen surfaced again in his mind. "Didn't you sleep well last night?" he enquired.

  "Like a log," Jack assured him, "but now I'm tired again. It must be this place. It makes you tired."

  Tom decided that there was some truth in this and let the matter rest, at least for the time being. They were in an alien environment and who could say what effect it was having on them. And as they travelled on, drawing nearer to Thauma's Ring, he began to wonder just what kind of malevolent tricks the Wolf was capable of playing on them and what

  power it held with which to affect their minds. And he wondered too, whether they were really strong enough to survive the consequences.

  The badger gave a quick look back toward the boys and seeing that they were several yards behind and out of earshot, decided that now was a good time to speak. "My friend," he began tentatively. The big man cast a glance down at him but his attitude seemed cold and distant. "There are things we must speak of."

  "What things?" Dredger growled.

  "Important things," stated Mo with a certainty that caused the man to pay a little more heed to his words.

  "Speak then."

  "Long ago, when you did battle with the Wolf, many prophecies were foretold."

  "That is so," agreed Dredger, recalling the days of old when he, a youthful, intrepid warrior, had fought against the forces of darkness.

  "But," continued the badger, "that was in the infancy of worlds and now the White Wolf has grown. It is no longer a child. It is now the father of these lands."

  "The white devil could never hope to match the old magic," the big man countered.

  "Perhaps not, but as I have tried to tell you, the Beast did not need to. It merely sowed the seeds of scepticism and the faithless grew. It could not destroy the old magic, but the Wolf saw to it that it was at least forgotten."

  "Not by me," Dredger snarled, but he had begun to wonder just what in truth had come to pass during his enforced dormancy. So long. So long he had been waiting in the Void. Only waiting until he would be summoned again. And the boy had come. Was this not the prophecy? He had been called back to these lands and so a legend was unfolding.

  In the realm of the Wolf,

  a boy shall walk the road

  of treachery and pain.

  This shall come to pass,

  when the warrior awakens

  to face the Beast again.

  All must carry burdens

  and seek the hidden face,

  before our tears shall wane.

  This was but a small passage from an ancient rune, taught to him by his father and passed down through many generations by his ancestors. He knew it by heart.

  He was the warrior it told of, this he also knew. He had long prepared for the moment when he would meet the Wolf in combat. But his defeat had almost unhinged him. During that seemingly eternal time when he had been held, neither alive nor dead, in a prison of nothingness, it was only his unfaltering belief in the prophecies that had allowed him to retain his sanity. "The old magic," he murmured, "it will tame the beast."

  Mo shook his head sadly, realising that the man was too much a part of the past to be able to see what had happened. There was no human way of judging how much time had passed since Dredger's battle with the White Wolf. It was a measureless term in which iniquity had prospered, hope diminished until its flame guttered, besieged by an evil tempest. Perhaps many thousands of years had passed in mortal men's thinking. Perhaps much longer. Then, benign powers had been visible to the creatures of all worlds and many had thought the
Beast no more than a thorn in their side, others not even acknowledging its existence. But in their complacency they had underestimated its power. And when Dredger had stood against the Wolf, even he had been no match for its terrible strength. In the dark seasons that had come and gone since then, things had moved and changed. The ancient magic that had seemed to them invincible, had slowly crumbled under the growing will of the Wolf. Gradually the shape-changer eroded away the very heart of that power, the belief in magic itself, so that worlds finally became grey and prosaic, their denizens living in a perpetual state of turmoil. Most turned away from their dreams, disillusioned, until in the end, while the White Wolf cackled and howled, they had come to the very brink of self destruction. Only these lands, within this world, retained the potency of magic and dream. But it was here that the Beast had made its home, its fortress.

  That had all been so long ago, if indeed time could be reckoned in any meaningful way in this domain. And still the power of the Wolf grew, until now it was almost undeniable.

  Mo let his mind roam the past, searching for some tiny spark of hope. He too knew the prophecies. He was also one of the very few who knew all of the many timeworn poems and runes, but he was beset by doubt. True enough, the boy had come, but it was a

  boundless undertaking, their ultimate goal illusory. And the road was cruel and dark.

  Fair will turn to foul

  and foul will turn to fair,

  when death lies just ahead

  you must meet it there.

  The words seemed to echo within the badgers mind. What did it really mean? Mo's understanding was greater than most, but there were secrets still denied to him.

  When the Wolf comes, no-one is safe. Not girl, nor boy, nor man or beast. We are all meat to him.

  They encountered a great many signposts as they journeyed on, some in most unlikely locations, as if placed there entirely for their benefit. So with the aid of this peculiar guidance, they were able to maintain a north-westerly bearing and continued to travel toward Thauma's Ring.

  "We draw near to the sacred place," declared Dredger. "This land was once virtuous, but then the white dog came and spread the filth of his corruption. Well, I say that the Beast has made a grave misreckoning. It should have not allowed me to live. Now I have returned to seek my vengeance." He looked up at the skies with grim determination. "Mark me, beast, for I come for you."

  "What are we going to do at the circle?" Tom asked quietly at Mo's side, perturbed at the man's outburst.

  The badger bared his teeth briefly. "Dredger will not listen to me. I fear he must learn the truth for himself."

  Tom had a bad feeling that things were not going to fare well for them at Thauma's Ring. And this unease did not abate as Dredger, seeming now to be almost possessed by his desire to reach their destination, left his companions far behind. His stride lengthened as he moved with purpose along woodland pathways, across small streams and over rocky embankments.

  A stone circle! Tom pondered as they scrambled along in the wake of the big man. He had seen standing stones before, monoliths arranged in a ring, or a line, rising up from lonely fields, often far from cities and towns. There was definitely something mystical about them, a timeless power and despite his misgivings he found himself excited by the prospect of such a spectacle appearing suddenly within a field or meadow.

  Somewhere ahead, Dredger too thought of the stones. Now they will see what power really is. The Beast will be brought to heel. He was convinced that at Thauma's Ring, the old magic would speak to him. It was not gone. How could it be? The ancient magic was not something that lived or died. It was infinite, all encompassing. Mo was a fool if he believed the Wolf so strong that it could vanquish power such as that.

  "Come on, Jack," Tom called, oblivious to the warrior's thoughts, but sensing that they were about to witness a test of the man's convictions. Jack really did appear to be weary and kept falling further behind as they tried in vain to catch up with Dredger. But hearing his friend's cry he stumbled forward and broke into a short trot, coming along beside Tom and the badger.

  "Jack," said Mo, "is something wrong?"

  Looking rather heavy lidded, the boy shook his head vaguely. "I'm all right," he muttered, "just a bit tired, that's all."

  The old badger fixed him with a probing gaze. "And is that all?" he asked.

  Jack looked away and shrugged his shoulders. "Sometimes I have bad dreams."

  "Dreams," repeated Mo. "Indeed, this is a land of dreams. A land of magic." He paused, as if contemplating something. At length he spoke again. "I am sure that you have noticed that life, in any form, is scarce in these parts. Save Dredger, we have encountered no other living thing."

  "I saw a boy," broke in Tom.

  "And I saw a woman," added Jack, feeling a mixture of relief and guilt at mentioning it.

  The badger wrinkled his nose. "It seems that you have seen more than I supposed."

  Tom wondered if he should tell them about the girl, but dismissed the idea. After all, she was only a part of his dreams.

  "Maybe we're just imagining things," Jack offered, perhaps a little too eagerly.

  "No," Tom said definitely, "I saw a boy. It was when I first came, eh...into this place." He still found it very hard to accept that he really was in an entirely different world from his own. But he realised that he had better adjust to it quickly. It was an unpredictable and dangerous place and he would need his wits about him if they were to have any hope of surviving. "You must have seen him too, Uncle Mo," he continued, "it was just before I met you."

  "The only boy I saw was you, Tom."

  "Everything is weird in this place," commented Jack, with a shake of his head.

  "You can say that again," voiced Tom, smiling glumly at his friend.

  For a moment Jack almost felt like his old self again. It seemed such a long time since they had climbed the tree and his thoughts were hazy, his memories distant. Why did he feel so tired all of the time? It was as though something was inside him, draining him.

  "Remember boys," Mo told them, "the White Wolf can use many things against us. Do not place your faith or trust in anyone or anything unless you feel certain in your heart that they are true."

  "So who was the boy?" questioned Tom. "And the woman that Jack saw?"

  "It’s difficult to say," began the badger. "Illusions or disguises. Or perhaps they were exactly what they appeared to be. These lands are deceptive. Remember that." The animal increased his pace, the boys hurrying along beside him. As they walked, Tom peering ahead for some sign of Dredger, Mo began to speak again. "Listen, both of you. There is something I need to tell you." The badger glanced up at them to be sure he had their attention and seeing that he did, continued. "There was a time, a beginning let us call it, when the first ones came. They were like children, innocents, devoid of evil or corruption and the land blossomed under their care. It was truly a wonderful place then." He said this with a deep sadness and was silent for several moments. "They brought with them a power," he went on, "a great magic which they used to give prosperity and peace to every kingdom, every realm." Their speed slowed, Mo a little breathless. "I am old, " he said apologetically.

  "So what happened?" asked Tom after a moment.

  The animal bared his sharp teeth. "Something else came with them," he growled, his voice low. "The Beast."

  They made their way along a bumpy track of mud and stone and Tom kicked at a twig. "Couldn't they do anything against it?"

  "In the very beginning the Wolf was not as it is now. No, it was very different then. But even when they saw the depravity that lurked within its soul, they chose not to destroy it, although that was within their power. They allowed it to go its own way and so bring its influence to bear upon the land."

  "But why? They
must have known what would happen," insisted Jack.

  "True enough," acknowledged Mo, "and there lies perhaps the greatest mystery of all. Why? But you must realise, Jack, that true evil is beguiling. It will win you over if it can and use your own heart’s desires against you. But the Beast is corruption, incarnate. Never forget that. It has set about perverting all that is fair and pure and shall not rest until everything has become depraved."

  "So what happened to them…the first ones?" Jack wanted to know, frowning.

  “Some say they will return one day to set things to rights. Of course, others say that they were destroyed by the Beast long ago, if they ever existed at all.”

  “But what do you say?” Tom asked, eyeing the badger carefully.

  “I,” spoke Mo, looking away, “I have my hopes. And for the moment at least that will have to be enough.”

  "What I want to know," said Tom after a long pause, "is where did this Wolf come from in the first place? You say that everything was fine and then it just pops up and ruins it all."

  Mo looked at them ruefully. “Some say the answers lie in the ancient poems and runes, but few truly understand their meaning. Perhaps you, Tom, already know more than you may have supposed."

  "What do you mean?" Tom asked, confused.

  "Is it not true that you know many strange stories and poems?" Tom realised the badger was talking about the things Uncle Ira had taught him. "Your Uncle is an old friend."

  "Uncle Ira!" Tom cried in disbelief. "But how…when?"

  "There are many things you do not know, some perhaps you will never know, but Ira has walked these roads before. He is an enemy of the Wolf."

  Tom could hardly believe what he was hearing. Uncle Ira here? But how long ago? Was he here now?

  "I can see this has come as a surprise to you," said Mo, "but really it should not have. Think of all that you have seen and heard since you first came to live at your new home."

  "Just how much do you know about me anyway?" demanded Tom, feeling as if he had slipped into one of the disquieting dreams he had been having of late. In fact, just as Jack had said, he too felt more tired than usual. Sleep seemed to offer little solace.

  "All that I need to know, Tom. But I am afraid that further explanation must wait. All things come to be when they are meant to be."

  It was as though Uncle Ira was there himself, the familiar words echoing through Tom's mind and he knew he would have to be patient. "Did my Uncle know I would come here?" he asked the badger finally.

  "Yes," Mo said gravely, "but he did not want you to come, that much I can say. He was bound by forces outside of our control. In this there is no choice for any of us."

  Tom thought this over for a moment before speaking again. "Is he safe?"

  Looking up at the cloudless sky, the animal did not meet the boys gaze. "I don't know."

  Not far ahead, Dredger stood at the edge of a clearing, surrounded by high trees.

  His wait had been long, but now equivocal time had moved on. He was the warrior of old. A circle of giant stones stood within the clearing, each menhir cut from ancient rock into a monolith now embedded in the earth. In all seventeen abided there. They would never fall.

  Dredger walked proudly into the heart of Thauma's Ring and as he passed beyond the boundary of the stones, he felt a harsh chill cut through his body. For a moment he hesitated, before speaking aloud. "Show me the truth."

  The warrior looked about him, feeling each menhir with his eyes, recalling the times when he and his father had come to this place to pray. He thought too of his mother, she who had brought him into the world and cared for him and his sister, Elizabeth, so spirited and carefree. Fragments of his past. A time lost, never to be regained.

  “Show me,” he bellowed suddenly. But there was only a silence that lived within his heart, an emptiness that threatened to consume him. The circle was nothing more than stone and earth.

  Matthew Hooper opened the door and stepped out, a cool breeze ruffling his greying hair. His wife still lay sleeping inside. At the edge of the forest, the Wolf was waiting for him and slowly he made his way across a field of wild flowers to meet the Beast.

  "Good day to you, Matthew," said the White Wolf courteously. The man remained silent, watching and listening intently. "And how is my garden this fine day?"

  "All is well," replied the man, his tone full of resignation.

  "That is good," voiced the Wolf with a crooked smile. "That is very good.” The Beast paused, gazing at the man with dark, unblinking eyes. “And now alas, I must leave you." The old man looked into the creatures eyes and knew he was peering into the fires of hell itself. "Remember, remember," sang the White Wolf, "I am the law of the land. Do not fail me, do not betray me. Remember this always." The Beast half turned as if to go but then paused. "Oh yes, just one other thing." Matthew felt his heart flutter in his chest, fear choking him. "I am taking your wife away with me today."

  The ground seemed to melt beneath the man's feet, his vision suddenly foggy, ill-defined shadows spinning deliriously before his eyes. "What?" he managed, but his dizziness became too great and he almost lost his balance.

  "All of you, everyone, must learn," the Wolf breathed softly. "I am the law, I am the land. Now get back to your work."

  Turning blindly, Matthew began to stumble back the way he had come. As he went up the steps to his porch, the house seemed to lean crazily, its bricks expanding, contorting into an impossible shape. The doorway became the grinning jaws of the Wolf, ready to devour him and as he entered he knew everything was lost, tears burning his cheeks.

  The bed where his wife had lain was empty, the sheets neatly turned back and the old man screamed, a despairing sound that filled the house and pierced his mind. Grabbing his rifle from its place upon the wall, he staggered outside weeping and on the outskirts of the forest he saw a white stag watching him. With vengeance in his heart Matthew ran as best he could toward the thicket of trees, the stag seeming to await his coming. "It don’t matter what shape you take. Now you're going to die!" he screamed at the animal. The white stag merely scratched the ground with its hoof and watched, its dusky eyes fixed on him. Taking up the gun, Matthew halted perhaps ten feet from the creature and took aim. His finger tightened on the trigger, sweat crawling over his body. But he hesitated.

  The stag stood very still, its eyes regarding him blankly. After a long moment, he finally pulled the trigger.

  The crack of the gunshot and the recoil of the weapon happened all at once, pushing him back with its impact. The force sent him reeling, knocking him to the ground, the rifle thrown from his hands. Unsteadily he brought himself up onto his knees and looked at the

  creature sprawled unmoving upon the forest earth.

  The Beast is dead!

  He experienced a heady mixture of joy and grief and gaining his feet, slowly walked over to the animal's carcass. Standing above it, he half expected the creature to suddenly spring up at him, but no, it remained quite still. The old man kicked at the body and feeling his boot thud solidly into its ribs, he kicked it again and then again, a frenzy taking control of him. The Beast was dead. He had killed it. Leaning over the corpse with a triumphant smile on his thin, withered lips, the man examined the stag's face. Its eyes were open but they were vacant.

  "It is dead," he shouted aloud.

  "Yes it is, isn't it," said a voice from behind him.

  Matthew whirled around and saw the White Wolf crouching by the exposed roots of a gnarled tree. "Y-you...?" he stammered, "but I killed you!"

  The Wolf laughed, a mocking, coarse sound that cut through the man with a cold, helpless dread. "You killed a stag, old man. Now that was not a nice thing to do. Whatever had the stag done to deserve such a fate?" The Wolf grinned and licked saliva away from its snout.

  Covering his face with his hands, Matthew knelt down beside the stag and wept. "Forgive me," he sobbed, stroking the animal's soft neck.

  "Yes, forgive him," the Wolf chuck
led. "He made a very bad mistake. But even so, I have a gift for you. Something to take your mind off such a tragedy." The old man did not look up, tears blurring his vision. "Look at me!" commanded the White Wolf. "Look at me."

  Reluctantly, Matthew raised his head and saw that the creature held something between its grinning jaws and with horror in his heart he recognised it as a human head, severed at the neck.

  He was staring into the lifeless, unfeeling eyes of his wife.