The Magic Lands

by Mark Hockley

  DREAMS ARE FOR DREAMERS

  "Would you mind checking the map, Tom," Mo asked, coming to a halt in the shadow of a small copse of wilting trees, "we should be somewhere near to the home of some friends of mine. I’m sure we would be welcome to some refreshments there." He cast a quick glance in Jack's direction. "How does that sound?"

  Jack tried to seem enthusiastic. "Oh, yeah…that's great," he muttered.

  Mo eyed him for a moment before turning to Tom. "And what about you Tom, are you hungry?"

  The boy shrugged his shoulders. He knew he should be starving by now, but he felt strangely empty inside. "I suppose so," he managed and took out the parchment as the badger had asked. "What should I look for?"

  "Sumbolon Grove," Mo told him, "it should be marked there."

  Dredger made no objection to this proposal and once Tom had identified the location approximately south-east of their current position, they continued on their way noting landmarks as they went.

  "Who are these people that you know?" questioned Tom as they walked.

  "An old couple, man and wife," said Mo. “They are always willing to aid a weary traveller.”

  Wondering where Jack was, Tom looked around and saw him trudging along some way behind them, seeming rather distracted. He had his hands thrust deep into his pockets and his head down. "Come on Jack," Tom called, urging his friend on.

  "I'll keep up," came the curt reply.

  Not really knowing what to make of the other boy's mood, Tom decided that it would be best to leave him alone and hope he would snap out of it. But Jack's behaviour was certainly odd as he was one of the most good-natured people that Tom knew.

  "Will you tell me something?" Tom said to the badger, his concern for Jack temporarily put aside.

  "What is it Tom?"

  "What is the Second Beast?"

  Mo moved along easily at his side and Tom realised how much he had come to depend on the animal's help and advise. The badger had taken the place of his real Uncle and although this didn't mean he was happy to be without Ira, he at least had someone to turn to. Especially now that Jack was acting so peculiarly. He remembered when they had been preparing to set out again after his uneasy sleep. Several times he had caught Jack staring at him resentfully and he just couldn't understand why. What had he done? Whatever it was, he would have to have it out with him sooner or later. Tom didn't like having bad feeling between them.

  Mo sniffed the air, interrupting his thoughts. "Something's on the wind," he stated. "Something up ahead."

  "What is it?" asked Tom, becoming afraid.

  "I’m not certain," was all the badger could say.

  Tom gazed out into black woods, across fields of scattered flowers, primeval trees etched against the sky. It was hard to imagine this land ever really changing. He couldn't see how

  they would ever come across a town, let alone a region of snow and ice.

  "To answer your question," began Mo suddenly, reminding Tom of what he had asked, "we have long awaited the coming of the Second Beast and since your arrival I have expected it."

  "Why!? What do you mean?"

  "It is part of the prophecy. Things are happening now and we are moving toward the final confrontation with the Beast, when all will be revealed and many questions answered."

  Tom bit his lip absently, a worried frown creasing his brow. "But what if we fail?"

  "I have my own doubts," admitted the badger, "but we must do what we can and never give up hope. Thus far, the prophecies have all been fulfilled."

  With a sigh, Tom accepted the animal's words, trying to convince himself that everything was going to be all right, but it was not easily done. There were too many uncertainties, too much he didn't understand. "But you still haven't told me what the Second Beast is?" he said finally.

  "There are many runes that tell of it, but the most significant is known only to a very few. Even your Uncle Ira does not know of it. It is a most ancient verse."

  "Will you tell it to me?" Tom ventured.

  The badger sniffed the air again and gave a violent twitch of his nose. "Something bad," he said flatly, apparently ignoring the boy’s request.

  Tom looked ahead to where Dredger walked alone. He was a lonely man, driven by a need, a desire, although just what that might be was hard to define.

  Then as they travelled over muddy terrain, the badger began to recite:

  "When comes the Second Beast,

  who can count the cost

  to the one who must find

  Hydan the lost?

  There to face the hooded foe

  and learn the truth concealed,

  to gain the daimon blade,

  that the catalyst may wield."

  "And Dredger is the one?" questioned Tom eventually.

  "So it would seem."

  "Hydan," Tom breathed, "that's where he said he was going. How did he know?"

  "He too knows the prophecy," Mo said. "We are all like pieces in a puzzle that must be put back together. In the end, none of us can succeed without the other."

  "He’s a strange man," Tom decided.

  "Perhaps," said the animal, "but still a part of the game that the White Wolf plays, like you and I...and Jack."

  "Have you noticed anything...well, unusual about Jack lately?" Tom asked, his worry over his friend obvious.

  Mo looked over his shoulder at the other boy, who came slowly along several yards

  behind them. "I see many things," he remarked, "but perhaps he is merely tired. You have both had a shock to your systems remember. Entering another world has its effects!"

  "I suppose that could be it," conceded Tom, "but I'm not sure..."

  Just then, Dredger shouted for them to come ahead and at once Tom and the badger ran to meet him.

  "What's happened?" Tom asked quickly, afraid of some attack or concealed trap.

  "Blood," replied Dredger with a detached air and pointed at the ground. A dark, sticky substance coloured the grass with a scarlet stain. "Can you not smell it?" the man asked. "I know that stench very well. I can almost taste it."

  "The house lies just beyond this small forest ahead," said Mo. "I fear that something very bad has happened here." The old badger felt a terrible sense of dread descend upon him like a heavy cloak.

  "Let us find what we must," growled Dredger, setting off down the blood-splattered bank in the direction of a close-knit thicket of trees.

  "Prepare yourself, Tom," Mo cautioned, lifting his head, his fur bristling all along his back. "There may be things here that none of us would wish to see."

  The building stood silent at the centre of a clearing, portending some sinister work of the Beast. Or so it seemed to Tom. He wondered what they would find within those walls.

  It was Dredger who came first to the doorway and even he hesitated before pushing the door open and stepping inside. Following behind, Mo and Tom entered the house, but Jack, hanging back a few paces, did not cross the threshold. He wore a disinterested expression that Tom found rather irritating.

  "Empty," reported the warrior, moving across the room and through a low opening to their left. It was a small cottage with only three rooms, each sparsely furnished.

  "Where do you think they could be?" questioned Tom, surveying the interior and while he did so, his eyes settled upon Jack standing at the door, leaning nonchalantly against the frame. He seemed rather bored with the whole affair and Tom glared at him, but either Jack didn't notice or just chose to ignore it completely.

  "We must search the surrounding area," voiced Mo solemnly. "Some vile evil has visited this place. I sense it. I can
only pray that James and Rebecca have not been harmed."

  "I will search behind this dwelling," Dredger informed them as he strode out of the doorway, his expression grim.

  "Jack and I will look down by the forest for some sign of them," Tom said, deciding he would use the opportunity to question Jack about his odd behaviour.

  "Very well," the badger agreed with a nod of his head. "I will search in the other direction."

  Moving beside Jack, Tom looked at his friend. "Come on," he said in as friendly a voice as he could manage.

  But Jack just stared at him for a moment before turning away. "I think I'll stay here.”

  Tom couldn't understand it. Why was his friend acting so strangely? "Suit yourself," he responded with a sigh and made his way across a neatly kept garden toward a knot of trees. To his fatigued mind their outstretched branches appeared to beckon him ominously.

  Before they had come upon the cottage they had passed through a tangled wood and Tom could see now that at the end of the garden there was a narrow opening within the borderline of trees. As he came upon it, he thought for just a second that he saw a shape

  moving behind the leaves and branches. Something white.

  Wolf as white,

  as white as snow,

  where it comes from

  I don't know.

  That's strange, Tom thought as these words sang in his head. I'm sure I've never heard that rhyme before. He cast his mind back, trying to recall if his Uncle had ever told it to him, but Tom was almost certain that he never had.

  A noise to his left like the snapping of a twig made him swing around and look hard into the foliage. Slowly, warily, Tom crept forward, toward the place where he thought the sound had come from, but stopped after only a few halting steps. The thick trunk of an old, unidentifiable tree stood in his path.

  "Look up," whispered a voice.

  Automatically, Tom obeyed.

  There was a naked body hanging from the tree, suspended by a white ribbon and Tom knew immediately that the person was dead. But it was not this that made him gag and almost bring up the little he had inside his stomach.

  The head! his mind screamed, the horror of it almost too much for him to bear. What's wrong with the head!?

  Mo glanced up and then turned away. "Cruel Wolf," he said quietly, the words harsh.

  "This is a dark deed," Dredger voiced at his side.

  Tom sat against the tree trunk, but on the far side so that he could not see the grotesque spectacle above. He was extremely shaken, but slowly managing to calm himself.

  Jack however stood casually, looking on with fascination as the hanging figure twisted lazily to and fro, the tree-limb creaking under the weight.

  "A noose of white ribbon," commented Dredger.

  "I just pray his death was quick," the badger responded in a low growl.

  "We will probably never find the rest of their bodies," Mo pronounced bitterly.

  "But why?" Dredger asked. "Why mutilate them like this? It is disgusting."

  "This is no mere mutilation," the badger countered. "The woman's head was grafted onto her husband's body as a display for our benefit. I can only hope that they were both already dead and at peace when the Beast performed the hideous act."

  "Now that's what I call a good trick," Jack said with a small giggle.

  "Be silent!" Dredger commanded, turning on the boy, an angry fire burning in his eyes.

  Mo moved closer to the warrior, ignoring Jack's callous remark. "Will you cut him down?"

  The big man nodded and taking a short blade from a sheath strapped to his waist, he

  set about climbing the tree. While he made his ascent, Tom came hesitantly back to stand with the badger.

  "Why?" he asked, not wanting to believe what had happened here.

  "A foul game, or more likely, a warning," Mo answered. "The White Wolf does whatsoever it desires and feels neither pity nor remorse."

  Lowering his eyes, not wishing to see as Dredger cut down the body, Tom shuddered as the corpse struck the ground and only now did he begin to truly understand the true nature of the creature that opposed them.

  Jack gazed down at the body, a smile lighting up his face. "Now they’ll be together forever.” He sniggered, trying to cover the sound with his hand.

  Tom stared at his friend in disbelief and had just opened his mouth to ask Jack what he thought he was doing, when the warrior leapt down from the branches of the tree and confronted the boy himself.

  "I find that I do not like your words," the man barked menacingly.

  "The boy is in shock," Mo said, moving toward Jack as if to protect him.

  "Shock!?" repeated Dredger scornfully, hissing the word. "Is that what it is?"

  Jack gawked at the man. "I don't know what you mean," he said and appeared to be genuinely confused.

  "Let us bury the body," the badger suggested, trying to turn the discussion to other matters and relieve the tension between the two.

  "There is more that needs to be said," Dredger answered coldly, scowling at the boy. After several long moments of staring hard at Jack, he finally nodded slowly. "But I shall do as you say."

  And so, using their hands as well as stout sticks and sharp stones found nearby, Tom, Mo and Dredger dug a grave while Jack, standing idly beneath the tree, watched them work.

  When the job was done, Mo bowed his head and said a prayer.

  "Let those who have suffered

  pass on in peace,

  let those who have lost their way

  find true release,

  let the wind sing our mourning,

  let our hearts join the song,

  let the children reach the golden land

  where the faithful belong."

  "The Beast will pay for what has happened here," growled Dredger, his eyes a deep crimson.

  "Yes," said the badger, "but you, my friend, have another path to travel now. You have your own beast to face...in Hydan."

  "One piece of the puzzle joins with the next," the man answered.

  "Would it help for you to look at the map, Dredger?" asked Tom, a great sadness within him. His mind could hardly register the horror he had seen and now they were soon to lose the warrior. If Dredger was no match for the Wolf, then who could be? Certainly not two boys and a badger.

  The tall man gazed down at the boy. "Yes, it would be of help, if you will permit it. It is for you to say who shall look upon the map now. No-one else can play your part in this."

  "No!" came a sudden shout from behind them and turning quickly Tom saw Jack standing there, his hands balled into tight fists, his face pale and sweaty.

  "What is it, Jack?" he asked, surprised and confused.

  The other boy's face was stricken, his mouth contorting as if in pain. “You must not show him the map," he screamed. "You must not let him see it!"

  Tom stared uncertainly at his friend, trying to understand what was going on. "Why?" he began, "what do you mean?"

  "Do as I say," shouted Jack, his eyes wild. "You must do as I tell you!"

  Tom glanced uneasily at the badger. "Jack, are you all right?" Mo said soothingly, taking a step toward the boy.

  "No! You must not show him. I won't let you!" His eyes darted from Mo to Tom and then to Dredger like some cornered animal. "Anyway," he said, becoming suddenly calm, a cunning look creeping onto his face, "the map isn't even yours. You can't show it to him because it doesn't belong to you."
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  Mo took another step toward Jack and the boy jumped back as if he had been physically struck. "Then who does the map belong to, Jack?" the animal asked easily.

  "Why, it's mine of course," he replied, his eyes wide. "Surely you know that it's mine. Didn't she say that it was? Give it to me, Tom. Come on, give me back my property. I'm willing to forgive and forget, if you just give me back what's mine."

  Tom stood quite still, unable to believe what he was hearing. Had Jack gone mad? He didn't know what to think.

  As he was struggling with this indecision, Dredger moved beside him and pointed a finger at Jack. "Listen to me, boy," he commanded, his voice very low. "You have been poisoned by some evil thing. Fight back against it. Fight!"

  Jack shrieked. "Give me the map! It belongs to me. It's mine, I tell you. Give it to me!" He stamped on the ground and began pacing about in a highly agitated state, chanting the words again and again.

  "What can we do?" Tom said desperately, looking to the badger and then at Dredger.

  "Jack!" Mo spoke in a resonant voice. "Stop this. You are unwell. Let us help you."

  For a second Jack became still and eyed the badger oddly, but then with a scream of fury and despair, a terrible look of hatred distorting his features, he turned and ran into the trees.

  "Quickly," cried Tom. "We have to catch him!" He started forward but Dredger caught his arm.

  "No!" the warrior ordered him. "Let him go."

  Tom twisted away from the man's grip and turned to the badger, his face tormented. "Why!? What's happening!?"

  "This is the work of the Wolf," the animal said with compassion.

  "Then we have to help him," Tom implored. He didn't want to stand and debate, he only wanted to find his friend.

  Mo came closer and met the boy's frantic eyes with his own. "Jack must fight this alone, Tom. There is nothing we can do to help him now."

  Tom stared at the badger before turning to look into the shadowy forest where Jack had disappeared. He felt useless and defeated. If he lost Jack to the Wolf, what point would there be in going on?

  "Jack," he whispered, tears running easily down his face. Why was this happening to them?

  "I won't go on without him," he said quietly.

  Out in the isolated regions of a dispassionate forest, Jack ran, trying to make sense of his jumbled thoughts. He could remember their arrival at the cottage, but after that everything became very hazy and vague.

  Where were Tom and the others? Surely they hadn't lost him. He thought of calling out, but for reasons he wasn't really sure of, decided against it.

  I'll keep quite. That would be best.

  Slowing to a walk, Jack moved under silver-limbed trees, travelling in no particular direction. When he had gone only a short distance, a weariness came over him quite suddenly and he sat down beneath a large sycamore. The other trees here were somehow unfamiliar, the leaves giving off a strange incandescence, the bark scarred in a way that seemed aberrant. All around him he saw shadow within shadow, a green light illuminating the woodland. The forest held him in a close embrace.

  Leaning his exhausted body against the sycamore's sturdy trunk, Jack tried to determine what his best course of action might be. But he found it increasingly difficult to think straight.

  A soft rustling near his feet made him peer down at the grass and to his surprise he saw a small white mouse sitting beside his leg, twitching and blinking as it stared up at him.

  "Hello mouse," Jack said, pleased to have found a potential friend.

  The tiny animal seemed to be eyeing him carefully and Jack wondered if it would run away if he dared to move his body. Remaining as still as he could and trying to keep his breathing as quiet as possible, Jack smiled at the mouse, his most friendly, good-natured smile. "No need to be afraid," he whispered.

  Hesitantly the mouse came closer, scuttling over toward his right hand and expecting the creature to dart off at any moment, Jack reached out gently with his fingers until they made contact with the animal's delicate body. Amazingly, or so he thought, the mouse made no attempt to run away, so with the greatest of care he picked it up and looked curiously into its dark eyes.

  "Mouse," he declared, somewhat obviously.

  The little creature trembled, staring back at him. In his big hand it seemed to Jack that the mouse's warm, soft body was as fragile as alabaster. One squeeze and the tiny form would break in two.

  Jack's brow furrowed as he tried to think. Things had not been going so well of late, he knew. He had not felt like his old self at all. Why was everything so confusing and strange? His head began to hurt, a throbbing pain right between his eyes.

  In his hand, the mouse moved and he tightened his fingers around its small white body.

  "It's those damn dreams," he said aloud, the words ringing in the silence.

  "Dreams are for dreamers," answered a voice.

  Jack gazed at the mouse and for a second he imagined that it winked at him.

  My mind is going, he concluded closing his eyes tightly, raising his other hand to his aching brow.

  "What am I going to do?" he asked in a whisper, wishing Tom were there with him.

  "Dream on," replied the voice and then the mouse wriggled out of his grasp and scurried to the ground.

  Opening his eyes, Jack just managed to catch a glimpse of its pale form disappearing into the long grass.

  "I'm going to look for him even if you won't help me," vowed Tom with a sharp look at both Mo and Dredger.

  "Please listen a moment, Tom," said the badger kindly. "I didn’t mean we would leave Jack behind. I only meant that whatever is wrong with him, he will have to fight it for himself. It is within and we are powerless to reach it."

  "But I must try to help him," Tom insisted, his face twisted with concern.

  "The boy is right," interrupted Dredger, "we must at least try."

  Mo looked at them both and then nodded. "Very well, but I do not harbour much hope for what we shall be able to achieve."

  "It will be more productive if we separate," the warrior directed, making briskly for an opening in the undergrowth without waiting for their agreement.

  After watching the man vanish among the trees, Tom turned to the badger. "I can't understand why you won’t at least try to help Jack. I just don’t…" He broke off, his voice cracking with emotion.

  "I am afraid," the animal said slowly, "afraid that it’s already too late."

  Tom fell silent, not wanting to believe what Mo was suggesting.

  Jack will be all right. He will! It was just this terrible place, this stupid world where nothing made any sense.

  "I'll go this way," the badger said abruptly and with one final glance at the boy, made off into the trees.

  Somewhere secluded within the heart of the forest, Jack still sat beneath the sycamore.

  "When they come," whispered a voice at his ear, "you must say that you are sorry and pretend that everything is all right now."

  Jack nodded. "But will they believe me?" he queried, his speech a little slurred.

  "They will believe you, have no fear. You must wait and be patient. You must await the moment of your reckoning." Jack nodded again. "Remember Jack, all things come to be when they are meant to be. Every dog must have its day."

  "Yes," the boy said, "yes, I can wait."

  "And you will, Jack, dear Jack, you will wait for me."

  Jack turned his head very slightly and looked into the woman's eyes and saw that a silver light twinkled within them. Beautiful, he thought dreamily. Then there was the sound of movement in the undergrowth, the sound of someone steadily drawing nearer and Jack peered into the surrounding woodland.

  Where am I? He stood up with a grunt of exertion. How did I get here?

  Abruptly a figure appeared before him and Jack smiled, pleased to see that one of their company had found him. "Hello Dredger, I'm glad you found me," he said in warm greeting, but the big man did not return his smile. He came ominousl
y on toward the boy, gripping a sharp blade tightly, his glacial eyes unsettling.

  "What's the..." began Jack, but then, with a gasp of horror, he realised what Dredger meant to do. He screamed and tried desperately to run, but the warrior seemed to block every avenue of escape and Jack knew what it was to be an animal caught in a snare. The roof of the forest flashed overhead, light alternating with shade.

  "No...no," he murmured in vain, but it was too late. The blade rose up and floated above the man's shoulder. "Why?" was all Jack could say as he waited to die.