Heart of the Hill

by Andrea Spalding

  He ground his teeth and turned into a side street.

  Wearyallhill House was shrouded in mist, as was the steep hill itself. The car sputtered slowly up a narrow drive. A gate loomed, blocking their way. Mr. Smythe muttered under his breath and stepped on the brake.

  Adam leaped out and pushed the gate open.

  “Can you walk up to the house from here?” called Mr. Smythe. “The driveway’s so steep I’d rather not stop again.”

  Adam raised his hand as they drove through. He shut the gate and paused, squinting through the mist and drizzle, trying to see the view.

  The rain had stopped, and there was a brightness in the air as though the sun was attempting to break through.

  A burly bearded figure muffled in a cloak tramped up the drive through the mist toward him. The figure raised an arm in salutation.

  “Greetings, Adam,” said a familiar voice as the figure drew level with the gate.

  “Myrddin!” exclaimed Adam. He threw open the gate again. “Am I dreaming? You’re real?”

  “I can be,“ agreed Myrddin.

  “Oh, boy! Am I glad to see you …”

  A gesture silenced him. Myrddin turned and faced downhill. He stretched out his arms, then slowly raised them.

  The mist raised like a curtain and revealed the view.

  Adam gasped.

  The Tor appeared on the opposite side of the valley, its tower etched black against a newly washed blue sky.

  Adam picked out the terraces of the spiral path and once more felt the magic tugging at his feet. He took a stumbling step forward, but the gate and Myrddin’s hand on his arm restrained him.

  “Not yet,” rumbled Myrddin, “not just yet. You must prepare. Come.” He turned and trudged up the drive.

  “Welcome to my house.”

  “Your house! What do you mean? This is Mr. Green’s house. He’s a friend of Mr. Smythe’s,” panted Adam as he ran after Myrddin.

  “Mr. Smythe and I have been friends for many years,” agreed Myrddin.

  Adam stopped dead in his tracks. “You mean… does he know … ?”

  Myrddin turned to Adam. “Does he know I am the Myrddin? No. He knows me as Mervin Green, a historian knowledgeable in folklore and old beliefs.”

  “But … but … I thought … aren’t you from …?” Adam waved his arm vaguely at the sky.

  “Yes, but I am the Wise One with the closest relationship with the humans of Gaia. Over the aeons I have spent several human lifetimes here, before Old Magic waned. Your time is different from ours. A lifetime on Gaia is but a few days in our reality. Come … now that you are here we must begin,” said Myrddin as he strode on up the drive.

  Holly, Chantel and Owen were clustered on the front steps with Mr. Smythe, admiring the view.

  “Ah, Mervin! I guessed you were taking a walk,” said Mr. Smythe. He leaped down and shook his friend’s hand vigorously.

  The children gaped.

  Chantel nudged Holly. “He looks like …”

  Holly hushed her.

  “It is him,” whispered Owen. “Look at Adam.”

  Adam ran around the men and joined his cousins and sister. His face was flushed and his eyes sparkled with excitement. “Can you believe it?” he hissed. “Now things are really going to happen. But careful what you say. Mr. Smythe doesn’t know!”

  The children swiftly unloaded the Land Rover, carrying their backpacks into the house.

  Mr. Smythe yawned and stretched. “Sorry, folks. I need forty winks; I’m beat. It was tricky driving in this rain.” He furrowed his brow at the children. “I know you need to go to Glastonbury Tor, but could you give me half an hour to snooze?”

  “Sure, we’ll visit with Mr. Green,” said Adam heartily.

  “Nap as long as you need,” agreed Owen.

  Mr. Smythe scratched his head, but another yawn overtook him. “My usual bedroom?” he asked as he started up the stairs.

  Myrddin nodded. “Relax, my friend. The young people and I have lots to talk about.”

  As soon as the bedroom door clicked shut, the children’s questions spilled out.

  “One at a time, one at a time,” rumbled Myrddin. He led the way through the house to a sun-splashed veranda overlooking the valley.

  “Come, tell me all while we watch the Tor,” he said sweeping the raindrops off the table and chairs with the edge of his cloak.

  Holly pulled Adam aside. “My arm’s killing me. Could you fetch the cup out of my pack?” she whispered. “I wrapped it in a silk scarf and stuffed it in the middle of my T-shirts.”

  “Sure.” Adam ran back to the house and rummaged inside Holly’s pack. The silk bundle was easy to spot. He carried it out to the veranda. “Oh, boy, are we glad to see you, Myrddin. Things are heating up. Take a look at this.” He unrolled the scarf and tumbled the bowl onto the table.

  Myrddin’s eyebrows clamped together. His hands shot out and cradled the bowl. “The Glastonbury Cup! How did this come into your possession?”

  “I caught it … in a dream about the past.” Holly’s voice quavered at Myrddin’s stern expression. “At least … I think it was a dream. I … I walked the labyrinth that appeared on our lawn, and it sucked me inside.” She told Myrddin of the cavern, visiting the village in the lake and witnessing the fight. But she stopped short of mentioning the slash on her arm.

  Myrddin muttered into his beard. “Vivienne and the Labyrinth grow powerful.” He glowered at the Tor.

  “Thoughts of Glastonbury must have been in your heart, Holly,” he said finally. “For the Portal’s archway took you into its past.”

  Holly nodded. “That’s right. The voice asked me where I wanted to go, and I thought of home. Then Glastonbury popped into my mind.”

  “You saw the days when the Glastonbury valley was flooded by a shallow lake spotted with small islands. You visited what modern archeologists call a ‘lake village,’ a group of huts on one of the islands. At that time the people called the Tor ‘Avalon’ and knew it as the Lady’s sanctuary. Arto, though you saw him as a young man, was once a Magic Child like you. He knew both me and the Lady.”

  Myrddin sighed and searched each child’s face. His own face looked worn and gray. He fingered the bowl uneasily.

  “Magic Children, the edges between dreams and reality, past and present, are blurring as Old Magic and Dark Magic are roused. It’s happening sooner than I expected.” He sighed again. “Unknown and unforeseen dangers loom when dreams and reality mix. You are children and deserve protection, but neither I nor the other Wise Ones can protect you against this new surge of power.”

  Myrddin brooded. The children shuffled in their seats. “You must help us no longer,” Myrddin finally rumbled. “I thank you and honor you, for you achieved the impossible by recovering the talisman and the circlet. I cannot and will not allow you to do more.”

  The children’s eyes widened. There was a babble of protest.

  “But we promised we’d help,” said Holly. Her cheeks flamed with two red spots.

  Myrddin peered at her from under his eyebrows.

  “You have helped. All of you helped. You kept your promises. But now the balance of Light and Dark has changed and the task must pass to others.” There was a note of finality in his voice.

  “Hold on a minute,” Adam insisted. “What others? There is no one else! It’s you and us, Myrddin.”

  “Adam’s right,” Owen broke in. “Ava and Equus have gone to fix the Place Beyond Morning. They told us.”

  He nudged Chantel for confirmation.

  Chantel agreed. “Then they’re going to wake the Lady,” she added softly.

  Tears poured down Holly’s face. “This is all my fault, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have entered the Portal and caught the bowl. Bringing it back was bad, wasn’t it? It altered the balance?”

  “No, no, this is not your fault, Holly.” Myrddin clumsily patted her shoulder. “Old Magic is fighting for its life. Earth Magic is part of it. The cup may be here be
cause Earth Magic called it, and you were available as the carrier.”

  “Return it,” pleaded Holly. “Please.”

  Myrddin shook his head. “Only a human can do Earth Magic. Only a human can find the way of the cup’s return.”

  Holly hid her face in her hands and sobbed.

  Now everyone stared at Holly. They were all upset and shocked, but Holly rarely cried.

  “Hold on,” Adam said again. “Myrddin, who’s going to return the cup if you can’t, and who’s going to get your staff?”

  Myrddin spread his hands. “Sometimes it is best to let magic find its own way,” he said gruffly.

  Owen snorted.

  “What a crock,” said Adam. “You know there’s only us … so … so you’re stuck with us. Besides, the magic is finding its own way. We’re Magic Children, and things are happening to us whether you like it or not. You didn’t make me dream about the Tor and the Spiral Labyrinth. I did it before you came for me. You didn’t put the labyrinth on our lawn. It just appeared. And you didn’t make Holly walk it. She just did, and the cup fell into her hands. So, how can we stop being involved?”

  Myrddin sighed. “You are right. Magic will continue to seek you out, but you must ignore it.”

  “No way … How can we … That’s just stupid,” the children argued, all talking at once.

  Myrddin held up his hand for quiet. “Only I can solve this muddle, and I can put it off no longer. The time has come for me to meet again with Vivienne.”

  Adam pushed back his chair and stood up. He was trembling, but his eyes shone. “Okay, go ahead. You meet with Vivienne without your staff. Let her beat you! Then what’s going to happen to Gaia?” He stamped his foot. “You can’t stop us from helping. Quitting feels wrong.” His voice wobbled. “It is wrong … I feel it inside…We have to help, don’t we?”

  He looked down at the others. They nodded vigorously.

  Adam’s voice strengthened. “You need me, Myrddin. You can’t get your staff back. You can’t do Earth Magic. And…and, you can’t face Vivienne or the emissary from the Dark Being without it.”

  “It is a conundrum,” admitted Myrddin.

  “Come on, Myrddin, get real,” pleaded Adam. “We’ve come this far by working together. Why stop now? I’ll walk the Labyrinth and grab your staff before Vivienne and the emissary discover you.” He pointed to the Glastonbury Cup. “I’ll take the cup with me if you think it’s here for a purpose. But don’t try to stop me, it won’t work!”

  Owen and Chantel stared at Adam.

  “I thought he was terrified of the Labyrinth,” whispered Owen.

  “He is,” whispered Chantel. “He’s being brave.”

  Myrddin rose from the table and enclosed Adam in a bear hug. “Thank you, Magic Child. Your commitment is magnificent. I will consider your offer. We have a few hours grace, for the Tor’s Labyrinth should be walked at sunset. Soon I will decide.”

  Adam slumped back down in his chair.

  Myrddin patted his shoulder. “Come, there is something we can do that does not involve danger. You should all become acquainted with the mystical city of Glastonbury as soon as possible. It is steeped in Earth Magic and may offer you unexpected help. We will walk into the town center and check the Glastonbury Cup’s usual home.”

  Holly raised her head; her eyes glittered. “Its usual home?”

  “The museum in the center of Glastonbury.” Myrddin led the way back into the house, found a pen and paper and scribbled a note.

  Holly thrust the cup deep into her jacket pocket.

  With a bit of luck she would be able to drop it in the museum unseen.

  Myrddin placed the note on the bottom stair where Mr. Smythe couldn’t miss it.

  Gone to show the children the

  Lake Village Exhibit. Back soon.

  He led the children through the garden to a back gate opening onto the slopes of Wearyall Hill.

  CHAPTER SIX

  STIRRINGS OF MAGIC

  Though the rain had quit, it was muddy trudging over Wearyall Hill.

  The children hiked in a rambling line, scrambling up the slippery path and over the grassy hump behind the house, then dropping down the ridge toward Glastonbury’s town center. They were silent, all with their own thoughts, but their eyes swiveled between Myrddin, striding ahead in his guise as Mervin Green, and the distant Tor, whose mysterious presence dominated the valley.

  “Hey, look at this!” Chantel pointed to a small scraggy tree. Fluttering ribbons attached scraps of paper to its branches. It was the only tree on the hillside, and the thin branches were twisted and gnarled with exposure to the constant wind. Iron railings surrounded it.

  Holly slipped her hand through the railings, and remembering the Mother Oak from their last adventure, she gently stroked the trunk. “Hello, magic tree,” she said softly. Her hand stilled. She closed her eyes and cocked her head. “It’s an ancient Hawthorn,” she said.

  Chantel stared at her cousin. “You’re really into tree stuff, aren’t you? Do all trees speak to you?”

  Holly withdrew her hand. “Not really … Just the magic trees. ‘Oak, Ash, Yew, Beech, Hawthorn, Holly and Ivy, magic trees all,’” she quoted. “The Mother Tree told me about them when I was in Savernake Forest. When I stroke the bark I feel the sap rising, and the tree talks to me … but not in words.”

  “Well done, Holly,” rumbled Myrddin. “This is the ancient Glastonbury Thorn. One of the few symbols of Old Magic still known in your modern world. It flowers not in the summer but at the mid-winter Solstice, around Christmas. Its magic is hard to ignore.”

  “What’s with the ribbons and papers?” Adam fingered a note hanging from the branch nearest to him. “‘Shower blessings on Kathy,’” he read aloud. He chose another. “‘Angels of Light, stop the fighting in Iraq.’” He wrinkled his forehead. “Weird. Who thinks a tree can stop wars?”

  “Believers in Old Magic, often called New Agers, gather around Glastonbury; many of them honor and respect the power of the Blessed Thorn and ask for its help,” rumbled Myrddin again. “If we are to continue, you must seek them out, join with them and use their strength.”

  The children exchanged glances.

  “Oh, boy, not hippies again,” muttered Adam. He’d been deeply embarrassed by the New Age ceremonies held in the Avebury Stone Circle during the last adventure.

  Myrddin swung around to Adam.

  “Adam, are you still compelled to seek my staff?” he asked.

  Adam nodded, but his breath caught.

  “You understand you must tread the Spiral Labyrinth alone. You must enter the Portal, face Vivienne and demand entrance to the Crystal Cave alone. I cannot accompany you.”

  “I know, I know,” said Adam. “Don’t rub it in.”

  Myrddin held up his hand for silence. “Then be willing to accept help from others with different beliefs from yours. Can you do that?”

  “I … I guess so,” Adam stuttered, surprised by the gentle scolding. “So … so … you are saying I can walk the Labyrinth?”

  “Yes, child. I have reconsidered. I will use your help, for there is no choice. I must regain my staff.”

  Owen, Chantel and Holly gave subdued cheers.

  “Okay,” said Adam. He chewed his lip and stared at the Tor. Helping Myrddin felt right, but it didn’t stop him from being scared of the Labyrinth and Vivienne.

  Myrddin swished his cloak. “While I am human I am powerless, my fires are dampened, but human I’ll remain, so I can advise you without detection.”

  Adam gave a lopsided grin.

  “You are not powerless,” said Myrddin, reading his mind. “As Magic Children you have tools. Be not too proud or stubborn to use them. They will keep you safe.”

  Owen sniggered. “Yup, I’m the warrior — I’ll protect you!”

  Adam jabbed him with an elbow.

  “You can also use Earth Magic,” continued Myrddin, ignoring the by-play. “I believe the Glastonbury Cup has come yo
ur way for a purpose.” Myrddin leaned forward and whispered something to the Thorn. A branch arched toward him. “Here is more help.” Myrddin snapped off a Y-shaped twig and gave it to Adam. “Keep this with you.”

  Adam took the twig. How could a bit of wood do anything? He needed real magic, not a bending tree! He needed something to zap Vivienne or some kind of shield so he could walk the Labyrinth, grab the staff and get out without any messing. He unzipped his backpack and shoved the twig inside.

  Holly frowned. She itched to stretch out her hand and take a twig for herself, but she didn’t dare. Not without the tree’s permission. She stroked the trunk again, but it only recognized her presence. Her eyes filled with tears. She turned her back to everyone. Myrddin waved his arm across the landscape. “Adam, learn of the Earth Magic in this place. The Tor is obvious, and now you have the Thorn. I will also show you the Red and White Springs; the mixing of their water makes a powerful potion. Gaia has only one place filled with more magic than this valley and its Tor.” He pointed toward the northwest. “Over the sea in Mannanin’s Isle, where the Lady sleeps.” He pointed toward the town again. “Glastonbury and its Tor was the first place in England where Old Magic was found. The remnants of Old Magic still pulse from the ground, and many people who live here are sensitive to it. You must find them, for they will help you while you seek for my staff.”

  “How am I going to do that?” Adam burst out. “I can’t just walk up to strangers and ask them if they sense Old Magic.”

  Myrddin laid a hand on Chantel’s shoulder. “That’s your sister’s task.”

  “It is?” Chantel’s eyes grew large.

  “Chantel has the gift of song. Song bonds people. It will band believers together to combine and strengthen the power of Old Magic. Her singing will help you, Adam.”

  Holly and Owen grinned as Adam gave a snort.

  Chantel flushed. She’d guessed Adam would react rudely to her singing. She hung her head and wondered how her voice was supposed to band people together.

  Myrddin laid a hand on Owen’s shoulder.

  “Owen, your role as yet is unclear, but we will need your quick wits to deflect the enemy’s attention and protect us in difficult situations. I do not yet know how or why, but you will be called upon.”