Heart of the Hill

by Andrea Spalding

  The cavern brightened to show four arches filled with mist. As the mist dissolved, each arch framed a scene. In the first, Adam scored the final goal in a soccer match and was lifted shoulder-high by cheering crowds. In the second, Adam received a law degree with both his parents smiling and clapping as they looked on. In the third, an older Adam planted a Canadian flag at the top of Mount Everest. And in the fourth, Adam wore an Edmonton Oilers’ jersey as he skated around a hockey rink, holding the Stanley Cup above his head.

  Adam straightened his back and watched proudly. Yes, he could do one of those things. It would be wonderful to achieve something that would make everyone cheer and make his parents proud.

  The cavern rang with the sound of chanting, “Adam, Adam, Adam, Adam!”

  Chantel was horrified. “Don’t watch, Adam. Don’t listen. It’s like dragonspeak!” She tried to pull him away.

  But Adam was riveted by the images.

  Desperate, Chantel began to sing.

  “She’ll be comin’ round the mountain when

  she comes,

  She’ll be comin’ round the mountain when

  she comes,

  She’ll be comin’ round the mountain, comin’

  round the mountain,

  She’ll be comin’ round the mountain when

  she comes.”

  Adam ignored her.

  Chantel plugged her ears, raised her voice and bellowed. The song echoed and bounced from rock wall to rock wall.

  “She’ll be wearin’ pink pajamas when she

  comes,

  She’ll be wearin’ pink pajamas when she

  comes,

  She’ll be wearin’ pink pajamas, and eating

  bad bananas …”

  Adam swung around. “Oh, do shut up, Chantel,” he said crossly. “You don’t really think I’m stupid enough to fall for any of this, do you?”

  With a gasp from Vivienne, the pictures dissolved.

  Floating through the sudden silence as though from a great distance above them came the echo of many voices, finishing Chantel’s refrain.

  “She’ll be eating bad bananas when she

  comes.”

  Adam’s eyes widened.

  “The New Age supporters on the Tor!” said Chantel.

  She and Adam burst out laughing.

  “This is madness,” said Vivienne’s voice. Her anger was obvious now. “You have followers?”

  Chantel shrugged. “Not really. People just joined in.” She smiled up into the gloom. “Can we go to the Crystal Cave, please?”

  Adam grinned at Chantel. “You’ve a nerve,” he whispered.

  Chantel shot him a cheeky look.

  Vivienne groaned. She should be using her power to keep Zorianna in control. Instead she was faced with rebellious Magic Children — two in the real world and one waiting in the dreamworld.

  These children did not follow the rituals of Old Magic. They entered without ceremony or reverence and did unexpected things.

  Safely cloaked in darkness, Vivienne stared down at the two laughing children. They had no respect. And magic only knew what the girl in the dream realm was doing.

  Vivienne thought fast. She desperately needed a child to become Portal Keeper, but which? Gently, she probed Adam and Chantel’s minds and withdrew in horror.

  “Myrddin is close,” she blurted. “He sent you to seek the Crystal Cave. He will join you there if you succeed.”

  Chantel and Adam nodded.

  Vivienne’s thoughts grew frantic. She had miscalculated. There was too much new magic in the air, magic she didn’t understand and wasn’t sure she could handle. She must rid the Portal of these two. If they unsealed the cave, Myrddin would come. If they failed to breach the seal, Myrddin would rescue them. If Myrddin regained his old powers, she was in trouble.

  A sudden smirk crossed her face. She could still win. While these children worked out the Earth Magic, she would entice the child in the dream realm to become her replacement, and escape before Myrddin arrived. She’d scare them first so they couldn’t think easily. That would give her more time.

  Vivienne erupted into the middle of the cavern in a burst of light.

  The air crackled with static as her armor and jeweled sword sparked with energy.

  Adam and Chantel shrank back.

  “Go forth,” Vivienne roared and pointed her sword at the cavern wall. A new archway appeared. “There is the seal to the Crystal cave.” The mist within the arch glowed red and orange, then gradually dissipated as the heat of a roaring fire filled the entrance.

  Vivienne advanced on Adam and Chantel. “There is the entrance. Face it, or face me.” She lowered the visor on her helmet and brandished her sword.

  Adam grabbed Chantel’s hand. “Come on,” he said.

  “But the fire,” wailed Chantel, pulling back.

  “It’s okay. Fire’s Myrddin’s thing.” Adam grabbed her hand again. “Come on. It’s easy. It’s Earth Magic — earth, air, fire and water, remember? The Labyrinth is earth. We drank the waters of the Red and White Springs, and here’s the fire.”

  “What’s air?” whispered Chantel.

  “Gonna trust me?”

  Chantel looked up at the terrifying warrior-woman and nodded.

  Adam grabbed her hand, and they fled across the cavern.

  “JUMP!” Adam yelled.

  The two children leaped through the flames.

  Vivienne groaned.

  CHAPTER TEN

  IS THIS DAY DONE?

  On the Tor, storm clouds gathered and darkness fell. Zorianna’s wind howled around the hill. Thick clouds swirled and boiled in her wake, and an enormous rumble of thunder shook the ground.

  Osprey and his followers grabbed blankets and packs and raced for refuge under the arch that tunneled through the dark tower. Mr. Smythe hustled in behind them.

  “Make room for the children’s keeper!” bellowed Osprey. People parted, and Mr. Smythe found himself in the center where blankets and sleeping bags were already spread on stone flags.

  “We will soon be comfortable,” said a motherly woman. She rummaged in her pack and produced candles and tea lights that she lit and perched in niches and cracks high in the stone walls. The halos of light made a warm flickering glow.

  Mr. Smythe looked around in amazement. “Do you always carry food and blankets and candles?”

  “Of course,” replied the woman. “One never knows when Avalon may call.”

  As the last followers pressed inside, the rain began.

  It fell in a deluge that sealed off both ends of the archway with a solid curtain of water. There was a buzz of comment.

  Osprey held up his hand for attention. “The children searching for the Crystal Cave asked us to sing. Neither wind nor rain must deter us. We are the vigil keepers.”

  “Osprey, we’re sitting over the heart of the hill,” said the harmonica player. “Meditation will center us perfectly with the Crystal Cave.”

  “You are right.” Osprey held up his crystal. “Let us be at one with the center of Avalon. Let it guide our songs.”

  Silence fell within the archway, accompanied only by the hypnotic thrumming of the rain.

  Mr. Smythe closed his eyes and leaned wearily against the ancient wall. He was cold and stiff and very, very worried. Where were Chantel and Adam?

  Faintly, through cracks between the slabs in the floor, wafted Chantel’s voice.

  “She’ll be coming round the mountain

  when she comes …”

  Laughter rippled among the vigil keepers. They joined in.

  Mr. Smythe wiped his eye and sighed with relief.

  Within the Portal in the past, Arto knelt pleadingly in front of the sacred fire.

  Vivienne was too busy to answer his call.

  Owen and Holly watched anxiously from the dreamworld.

  Owen nudged Holly. “Is it my imagination, or is the fire burning brighter?”

  They stared at the flames.

/>   Owen was right. The fire roared, and sweat dripped from Arto’s face.

  Arto gave up on the Portal Keeper. He spread his arms and called for the Lady. “Lady of Avalon, once I was a Magic Child who walked beside Myrddin. We honored your sanctuary, and many times I heard your voice. Now your sanctuary is abandoned, but again you called me.

  “I answered. I am here. Give me direction once more, Lady, for the Crystal Cave is sealed and the Portal Keeper hears me not. How do I enter?”

  The fire blazed. Flames licked the roof. The cavern blazed with light.

  Arto jumped to his feet. “Lady, I hear you.” He threw back his head, his face filled with joy. “May the waters protect me,” he shouted and leaped through the fire.

  “Follow him!” Holly’s voice was determined.

  “You’re kidding? The Lady hasn’t spoken to us.”

  Holly wasted no time arguing. She started to run.

  Owen hesitated, then followed her.

  Sister and brother sped toward the fire.

  “May the waters protect us,” they yelled and sprang through the flames.

  Vivienne was distraught. Her Portal was out of control.

  As Adam and Chantel leaped through the fire, Vivienne had turned to enter the dreamworld. Suddenly the vibrations in the past escalated into an alarming rumble. Magic was boiling over. A Portal door had been activated without her.

  Vivienne rushed through the darkness. “Stop!” she screeched as she entered Arto’s realm.

  It was too late. Arto had disappeared through the flames of the sacred fire.

  Vivienne had no time to think. She sensed similar movement in the dreamworld.

  “Where did the new boy come from?” she gasped.

  “How can there be a fourth Magic Child?” Panicking, Vivienne screamed for help. “Zorianna, I need you.”

  Zorianna and Vivienne burst into the dream realm.

  “Catch them,” gasped Vivienne. She lunged forward as Holly and Owen left the ground. Her fingertips scraped Owen’s heel.

  Owen kicked and vanished.

  Zorianna made no attempt to reach for a child. A smile of triumph crossed her face as she watched. She could copy this magic. “May the waters protect me,” she yelled and followed the children into the fire.

  The flames scorched and repulsed her. She tumbled back on the floor at Vivienne’s feet.

  “Traitor,” spat Vivienne. “You were to catch the girl who was to replace me.”

  Zorianna laughed. “Wrong, Vivienne, I’m here to learn Earth Magic and locate the tool.” She turned to leap again into the flames.

  Vivienne grabbed her cloak and pulled her back with superhuman strength.

  Both lost their footing, fell and lay winded.

  Shrieking like a banshee, Zorianna turned on Vivienne.

  She pounded and fought, but the Portal Keeper was clothed in moonbeam armor. Zorianna’s fists slipped off the magical surface.

  Vivienne laughed. “You are wasting your time, Zorianna. You should have helped me catch them. They are now beyond our reach in the Lady’s Crystal Cave.”

  Zorianna tried to pry open Vivienne’s visor.

  “Desist, Zorianna. You can penetrate neither my armor nor the fire. Mixing fire and water is a special form of Earth Magic,” Vivienne gasped. “Neither you nor I have that power. The sacred fire will not let you through. Only a Magic Child goes that way.”

  “They are within reach of the tool I seek. I demand the Portal!” shrieked Zorianna.

  “It shows only the door of fire,” cackled Vivienne.

  A burst of flame crackled the air, and Zorianna smelled her hair frizzle and scorch.

  Furiously, Zorianna swung around to the flames. “I too can mix fire and water,” she screamed, turning herself into a twisting water spout that tried to douse the inferno.

  Vivienne stood, laughing hysterically as the fire blazed still brighter.

  “May you drown, Vivienne!” Zorianna screamed, trying to flood the cavern with water.

  Instantly, Vivienne became a silver fish that swam through the water with ease. “I too am a shape changer,” she called and leaped with the water out of the cavern’s entrance, changing in midair into a nighthawk that circled up into the sky.

  Zorianna foamed in a raging torrent out of the cliff and turned into an eagle that chased the hawk up into the black clouds.

  Both beings began hurling lightning bolts.

  In the valley below, the dikes could hold no more.

  Floodwater crept silently across the fields.

  In the heart of the hill, the Crystal Cave radiated with magic.

  Stalagmites rose from the floor; stalactites hung from the roof. Many had joined, forming glistening columns, some white, some orange. Mineral-laden water, dripping down the walls for thousands of years, formed lacy patterns over the walls. Water gathered in diamond sparkles from the tip of each stalactite and added a shimmering glaze to the stalagmites below.

  Water bubbled and flowed along narrow trenches cut along each side of the cave, one rimmed with twinkling orange crystals, one rimmed with flashing white crystals. Everything glittered and gleamed, reflecting light from the door of fire.

  Adam, Chantel, Arto, Holly and Owen hurtled through the flames, one after the other.

  “We didn’t burn,” crowed Adam. He stretched out his arms to catch Chantel as she cannoned toward him.

  “Oh, Adam, look at the cave!” breathed Chantel.

  They stared at the wonders.

  Arto landed after them, silent as a cat. He gawked at the children’s backs and took cover behind a collection of stalagmites.

  Holly sailed through the flames like a long-jumper, skidded and sat down hard on the floor. “Ouch.”

  “You daft idiot, we could have been incinerated!” yelled Owen, flailing through the air and landing on top of her.

  Adam and Chantel swung back in shock.

  “Adam, Chantel, you made it!” shrieked Holly, extracting herself from Owen’s limbs. She threw her arms around her cousins. Owen pounded their backs. All four gabbled excitedly. Gradually the peace and beauty of the cave reached them. One by one they fell silent, marveling.

  “We need to find the staff, and there are a million hiding places,” said Adam. “It could take forever. Thank goodness you’re here to help.”

  They began exploring the glistening pillars and probing gentle fingers into cracks and hollows in the delicate crystal patterns lacing the walls.

  Arto stepped from his hiding place. “What children are you that search the Lady’s sanctuary?” His voice was stern.

  “Gosh … Arto … I’d forgotten,” said Holly.

  Arto paled. “You know my name? What magic is this?”

  “We’re Magic Children. I saw you in a dream,” said Holly.

  “We’re from the future,” added Owen. “She’s Holly, I’m Owen, and these are our cousins Adam and Chantel.”

  Holly turned to the others. “This is Arto. The one whose cup I caught.”

  Arto leaned forward. “The Lady’s cup? You have it?”

  He was bewildered.

  Holly nodded. “It’s a long story, but I was hiding in the bushes when you tripped …” Her voice trailed off as she realized what was happening. “I don’t get it!” She swung around to Adam. “If he’s in the past, I’m dreaming and you’re really here … how can we see and talk to each other?”

  “This is the Lady’s Crystal Cave,” said Arto simply.

  “All is possible.”

  “We’re searching for something hidden here, concealed by magic,” said Adam. “But I guess you’re looking for this?” He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out the bronze cup. He offered it to Arto.

  Arto gasped and cradled the cup against his chest.

  “We’ve been trying to give it back for ages,” said Adam. He grinned at the others. “That bit was easy.”

  “Too easy,” said Holly. “Why did the cup come to us, if all we have to do is give it
back?”

  Arto reached for his dagger.

  “Hey … it’s all right,” said Owen. “The cup’s yours.”

  Arto relaxed. “Maybe Arto knows,” said Adam. “What’s the cup used for?”

  “’Tis the Lady’s cup,” said Arto. “For mixing and drinking waters from the Red and White Springs …”

  “That’s all?” said Chantel, disappointment obvious in her voice. “We did that.”

  “… in order to see divinations in the pool,” continued Arto.

  The children’s eyes sparkled.

  “Hey, I bet that’s it,” breathed Adam. “Arto, can you show us how to see divinations in the pool?”

  Arto shrugged. “Though you are strangers to the ways of the Crystal Cave, you are Magic Children. Maybe.”

  Holly touched his arm. “Will you help us?”

  Arto nodded. “You returned the cup. I will help. The cup and I were called here for a reason.” His eyes searched each child’s face. “We must approach the heart of the hill humbly and with reverence.”

  “We will,” everyone vowed.

  Arto led them through the stalagmites, deeper into the cave, to an open space where a crystal-encrusted ceiling arched overhead. The crystals flickered and danced with inner flames, reflecting the light from a small fire with a pile of dry sticks beside it.

  “The Wise One’s eternal flame,” said Arto. He made a gesture inviting the children to step onto the broad expanse of white marble floor before the fire. In the middle of the floor a shallow depression was carved.

  “We have a ceremony to perform,” said Arto. With both hands he offered the Glastonbury cup to Holly.

  “You must take the role of the Lady’s high priestess.”

  “I must?” said Holly, flustered.

  “You are the oldest female,” said Arto. “And the cup came to you of its own accord. You must do the Earth Magic.”

  “I am honored,” Holly said formally. She took the cup in both her hands and bowed.

  “This is the Lady’s reflection pool. Please be seated while I instruct Holly.”