Behind the Sorcerer's Cloak

by Andrea Spalding

  Owen worked silently, laying the holly boughs, rowan twigs and Bollan Bane around Breesha’s grave.

  Manannan’s gulls soared peacefully on the air currents, occasionally diving into the sparking water of the bay.

  A splashing of oars and laughter reached him from the river estuary.

  The sun sank lower and the quality of light gradually changed.

  There was a heaviness, a darkness, a feeling of fear in the air.

  The laughter from the boats on the estuary took on a cruel edge and dissolved into yells and insults.

  Owen looked up. It was way before sunset. Darkness shouldn’t be here yet.

  The sun was a dull orange globe with the hint of a bite out of one side.

  Owen held his hands up to his eyes to cut out the brightness. He squinted through the tiny gaps between his fingers.

  The bite grew as he watched.

  Doona’s words rang in his ears. “Even you, the Wise Ones, will not be able to stop tonight’s dark shadow. No one can.”

  Doona was causing an eclipse of the sun.

  The terror had begun.

  Holly switched on the lamp and stared at the tray full of beads. They were utterly beautiful.

  A curl of fright fluttered. The black bead wasn’t there. Then she spotted it, off to one side in a container.

  She pulled the horse hair from her pocket. She knew how the necklace started. Picking up the large amber disk, she threaded it, and with a sigh of relief slid the jet black bead next to it. Dark and Light were together again.

  It was like picking up fries fresh from the oven. The beads had a magical heat, an electricity all their own, that prickled on her fingers and palms.

  She stopped and pulled out a stool. She needed to sit and concentrate.

  Holly laid her hands above the hair and beads already strung as though she were blessing them. She closed her eyes and tried to recall her dream, to freeze the image when Breesha’s necklace had spilled out of Mona’s ripped tunic. That was the moment the glowing beads had seared into her memory.

  Her heart pounded, her hands shook.

  She could feel the magic. The beads were so powerful that she wasn’t sure she should touch them.

  She pulled her trembling hands away.

  If not you, then who?

  The voice was as soft as a breath of wind.

  “Is that you, Lady?”

  Silence.

  Holly worked to center herself.

  From her pockets she pulled a tea light and a match folder, a rock from the beach, a phial of water and a feather. She placed them around the tray.

  Singing softly she lit the candle.

  “Earth support me,

  Air surround me,

  Fire enlighten me,

  Water cleanse me.”

  She sang it over and over, rocking slightly back and forth. At last she closed her eyes, held her hands over the beads and waited.

  The vision came.

  Her fingers moved of their own accord, deftly toward a silver bead, eagerly toward the malachite. Red glass slipped against turquoise, a gold disk against a pale blue crystal. Her fingers worked first on one side of the amber disk, then on the other. The necklace grew.

  The vision in her head changed.

  Holly saw the moment when Sigurd held the necklace up before placing it around Breesha’s neck.

  Her fingers flew faster. She must finish the back of the necklace before the vision vanished.

  White glass, brown clay, rose quartz, topaz, rough lapis lazuli, silky tiger’s eye, green glass, cobalt and a pure gold nugget.

  She knotted the ends.

  Breathless, she opened her eyes and looked at the fabulous links that lay across her palms.

  “The Lady holds the entire universe around her neck.” Was that what Myrddin had said?

  Now she, Holly, held it in her hands.

  The scent of roses filled the air, but darkness thickened in the corner of the hut. A growl rumbled.

  Myrddin and Adam leaned over the bridge rail, staring down at the River Nebb. Both were distracted.

  Myrddin was mindspeaking to Equus and Ava.

  Adam, his hand in his pocket, was trying to ignore his throbbing finger.

  He was in a black depression.

  He thought he’d done his best. He thought he’d outwitted the Dark Being. Instead she had outwitted him.

  Once again he’d done everything wrong.

  Holly and Owen couldn’t be with him because of the Shade, and now the ring was trying to force him to take the beads.

  His finger ached.

  He tried to distract himself by staring at a group of men boarding the Viking longboats to practice rowing. They needed practice. The enormous oars were hard to handle and there was much splashing and good-natured hurling of insults as the ships floated downstream.

  Adam, deep in his misery, didn’t notice the changing light. People streamed past him, pointing at the sun. They gathered along the harbor with dark glasses and homemade eye shades.

  As the light grew more ominous, the rivalry between the boats became pronounced. What had started as fun became nasty. One man lost his temper and whacked the arm of an opponent with his oar.

  The ensuing fight jolted Adam back to reality. He nudged Myrddin.

  “Yes. She approaches and even the most peaceful will become aggressive.”

  Both stared up at the sun.

  The ominous orange globe hung low in the sky. The dark bite in its side slowly obscured its light.

  “She’s not waiting for dark; she’s making the dark,” said Adam, horror in his voice.

  Again the ring constricted painfully around his finger.

  GET THE BEADS NOW, came Doona’s order.

  Adam yelped. His finger tuned blue. “What am I going to do? What am I going to do?”

  “Hold my staff.” Myrddin had never sounded so stern.

  Adam held on. The constriction and pain abated a little as he felt the staff’s magic course through his hand.

  “The Dark is here. The Shade has outstayed its usefulness.” Myrddin scattered stardust on Adam’s shadow.

  With a soundless yell the Shade detached from Adam, writhed on the ground for a moment and fled into the air.

  Though his hand still hurt, Adam felt easier. At least he could now talk to his cousins.

  Myrddin stamped his staff. “A portal, Manannan, a portal.”

  Mr. Smythe waited by the harbor steps with another of Mr. Cubbon’s sacks. He watched the black disk eating into the livid sun.

  “Aye, it’s begun,” said Mr. Cubbon as he joined Mr. Smythe.

  The two men rowed out to the plane, keeping plenty of sea room between them and the warring Viking boats.

  Adam and Myrddin landed in the center of Pheric’s Isle.

  The Myrddin’s disguise was shed. His staff crackled and sparked at every move. His billowing cloak glinted with magical colors.

  Ava appeared beside him, towering over them all, wings unfurled, hawk eyes watchful, a strange and terrifying sight.

  Equus galloped down from the sky, tail and mane streaming, his white coat shimmering with starlight.

  Adam shielded his eyes.

  A hand tugged Adam’s arm. “Step back, Adam. They have forgotten how fearful they appear.” Manannan sheltered the boy with his cloak.

  “The hour has come. The real world and the realm of magic must fuse.” Myrddin pointed his staff at the outer walls of the castle. They shimmered and rebuilt as the ancient ones aeons ago intended, concealing the inner magic from the human eyes without.

  Myrddin pointed his staff at the Round Tower. It charged with light.

  They approached the Lady’s grave.

  Holly, eyes cast down against the Wise Ones’ brightness, waited for them, the glowing necklace looped through her fingers. She quivered with tension. She had no idea what she had to do.

  Owen crouched beside the hut, preparing something in his sack.

  Everythi
ng seemed insubstantial in the dimming light from the sun.

  The fear in the air was real.

  “Adam,” hissed Owen.

  Adam peered round the edge of Manannan’s cloak.

  Owen was half hidden by the hut wall. “Dumped the Shade yet?” His voice was urgent.

  Adam nodded.

  Owen beckoned him over. “Then help me make more ammunition before all hell lets loose.” He was swiftly wrapping pebbles in Bollan Bane leaves and clipping them in place with small rubber bands.

  “What’s it for?”

  “The Shades. It won’t kill them, but Bollan Bane’s Earth Magic. I’m hoping it will distract them.”

  I’M COMING. ADAM, GET THE BEADS.

  Adam’s ring tightened. He stumbled and clutched his hand to his chest. His face was white.

  Owen grabbed his hand and looked at it. “Heck. Can’t you get the ring off?”

  “No. It’s Doona’s.”

  Owen grabbed his knife. He tried to insert a tiny blade between the finger and ring.

  HOW DARE YOU? roared Doona.

  “Owen, NO, stop,” Adam groaned. He sank to the ground, his eyes rolling back as the ring bit to the bone.

  Scared, Owen dropped the knife but sprinkled Adam’s hand with the water from Spooyt Vane, and pressed a Bollan Bane leaf over the ring.

  Adam opened his eyes as the pain abated a trifle. He clambered to his feet. “I can’t help you. She won’t let me, I–I’m sorry.”

  He staggered toward the Lady’s grave.

  A sad sweet song filled the castle grounds. The sounds were meaningless, yet everyone around the grave understood.

  The Lady was singing the magical rune song.

  “Lady, Lady, we hear your voice, please come to us. I’ve restrung your necklace. We have need of you.” Holly knelt at the head of the grave and held out the necklace.

  The bones gleamed dully.

  The song continued.

  A child’s voice joined in. It came from a great distance but drew closer amid a galloping of hooves and the smell of the sea.

  Chantel, on the back of a young Cabbyl Ushtey, cantered across the grass. Water droplets studded her skin and hair like diamonds. As she rode she sang a reply to the Lady’s song.

  The young Cabbyl Ushtey stopped, and Chantel slid off its back. She ran to the graveside and flung out her arms, scattering drops of sea water over the bones. “Lady, the Cabbyl Ushtey rejoice to hear your voice. They send their blessings.” Chantel scattered more water. “She’s singing about her lost name again,” she whispered to Holly. “She needs to hear it.”

  Holly laid the necklace over the bones. She took a deep breath.

  “Cullyn, Cullyn, I call your name. I am the child from the future you saw in your dream.

  “Cullyn, Cullyn, I know your name.

  “Holly in my language, Cullyn in yours.

  “Your name is my name; my name is yours.

  “Cullyn, I hear you and I’ve restrung your necklace. Please help us. Doona and the Darkness are here.”

  A faint light materialized at the foot of the grave.

  A woman wearing a simple brown cloak and a dark green skirt flickered in and out of the air like a flame.

  “Lady!” The Wise Ones knelt.

  “Kneel not,” said the woman softly, “but listen well. For though I am called, I choose not to permanently return in my true form.”

  Holly turned a startled face toward the Wise Ones.

  Chantel’s hand trembled in Holly’s.

  “It’s a crock, Holly. I told you it’s all a crock. This isn’t our war.” Adam stumbled to her side. “Don’t play along. They’re forcing us to do their dirty work.”

  Darkness thickened between Adam and the Lady.

  The Moddy Dhoo snarled and bared its teeth.

  “TAKE THE NECKLACE, ADAM.”

  Everyone heard Doona’s voice.

  Adam clutched his finger and writhed in agony but yelled a defiant, “NO.”

  His ring hand moved of its own accord toward the beads.

  He thrust it toward the Black Dog’s mouth.

  “Don’t be daft!” yelled Owen and rugby-tackled Adam. They both rolled into the grave.

  The Moddy Dhoo howled a terrible howl of disappointment as the offering was snatched away.

  Holly grabbed the necklace before the boys rolled over it. She disappeared in a flash of light.

  At the same instant, Chantel slapped the Cabbyl Ushtey’s rump. “Go,” she cried. “You know what has to be done.”

  The water horse leapt over the walls.

  Doona appeared by the grave. The boys froze at her feet. She turned her ring. Thousands upon thousands of Shades appeared and silently circled, beginning the vortex.

  Myrddin’s staff, Ava’s circlet and Equus’s talisman crackled into a blaze of light.

  Doona tossed her black hair and laughed. The one white hair caught in her curls glinted as she bent forward and dragged Owen and Adam in front of her as a shield.

  The black disk overtook the sun. A spurt of light flickered around the edges and a gray pall settled over Gaia.

  “Give me the necklace or forfeit these lives,” crowed Doona.

  The only sound was the drone of a passing plane. The engine drone changed to a high-pitched buzz as the plane swooped overhead.

  Everyone looked up.

  Charmed water rained down as Mr. Cubbon sprayed super soaker after super soaker through the open door.

  “Way to go, Mr. Cubbon!” yelled Owen. He pulled a handful of Bollan Bane from his pocket and rubbed it in the Dark Being’s face.

  She dropped his arm. Juice from the leaves stung her skin and made her eyes water. She struggled to clear them with one hand.

  Her grip on Adam tightened.

  Owen melted into the background and found his sack. He was well covered with Mr. Cubbon’s charms, and the Shades shrank back.

  The plane passed overhead again.

  Garlic cloves and water balloons showered down, causing havoc among the Shades.

  The vortex broke apart.

  Owen leapt around, waving saltshakers. He circled the Wise Ones and the grave, shaking the salt in a wide path.

  The Shades pressed to the edge but advanced no farther.

  “Stop this childish nonsense.” Doona shook with rage. “I still have the boy.” She dragged Adam to his feet.

  “And I have the necklace,” called out a clear voice.

  Everyone turned.

  The Lady appeared at the top of the Round Tower. She wore the beads.

  The tower pulsed with light.

  The Lady stretched out a hand, pulled threads of light from the tower and threw them toward the sky.

  Stars gleamed.

  She pulled more light from the tower and threw it toward the sun.

  The disk of darkness began to move. A sliver of gold appeared on one side.

  She pulled another handful of light and paused, looking down at Doona and the others.

  The hood fell back.

  “It’s Holly,” whispered Adam. “Where did she get the cloak?”

  An awestruck silence fell.

  “The cloak and necklace have passed,” said the Lady. She stood at the head of the grave beside Doona. Without her cloak, her features could be clearly seen.

  Both women stood in the same attitude: heads thrown back, gazing up at the tower. Both had flowing manes of hair, one dark, one white.

  Holly looked down at the women and felt the magical beads stir. They brought her a vision. Two sisters, almost at one in age and blood, fighting for supremacy. For a second, Holly felt the intensity of a younger sister’s jealousy and her hatred of the accident of birth that gave her less power. She felt the older sister’s love and pity and guilt, and suddenly she understood the situation before her.

  “You are not just sisters,” said Holly. Her voice traveled clearly in the silence. “Light and Dark, Dark and Light. You are magical twins. Your role is to balance on
e another.”

  The Wise Ones gave a sigh like the wind. They lowered their Tools of Power.

  “I have the boy,” said Doona.

  Holly raised the hand holding the light toward Doona. “Let Adam go,” she said. “Your fight is not with him.”

  Doona laughed.

  Holly opened her fingers. “Lhiat Myr HIloo—To thee as though deservest.”

  Minute sparks answered from the white hair entangled in Doona’s curls. Doona gasped. She let go of Adam and held her head. “How are we connected?” she shouted to Holly. “It is not possible! I renounced all light.”

  Adam stumbled toward Myrddin.

  “Take off your ring,” Holly’s voice was implacable.

  Doona jutted her chin.

  The white light around her grew stronger. The Moddy Dhoo appeared on one side of the beam, the white cat on the other.

  “Dark and Light, Light and Dark,” said Holly softly. “The balance of power.” She held out the necklace. “I restrung your bead, Doona. It lies again beside the Lady’s amber disk as it should. Light and Dark. Dark and Light. I restored the balance that you denied.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, yet all could still hear. “I hold the power.”

  No one argued.

  “Adam said this wasn’t our war. He is right. The people of Gaia never asked for the Tools of Power to come here. The Lady chose Gaia as their hiding place.

  “Lady, you chose not to fight with your sister, which seemed good. But you involved Gaia. You brought your problems here.

  “Equus told us the Wise Ones could not interfere among humans. Unwittingly you did.

  “Doona, this isn’t our war. I give you another chance to keep the balance.

  “The Lady has let the necklace pass.

  “Let Adam go. Let the Shades go. And let your ring of power pass.”

  “Come, Doona.” The Lady spoke. She held out her hand across the grave. “The child is wise. Our place is no longer on Gaia. Be not afraid to enter the Mists. Our time has come and our magic must pass. We can go together, you and I. Together as we used to be. Light and Dark, Dark and Light, as time began. Before our Tools came between us.”

  Doona’s hand moved slowly toward her ring.

  The Shades rustled and quivered.