Dream Magic

by B. V. Larson

  “But how? Why?”

  “It is time, child,” Gudrin said.

  Brand shook his head. “It doesn’t matter how or why. You have to understand that you have very little time left.”

  Trev stared at him, then suddenly, comprehension dawned.

  “It’s going to consume me?” he shouted.

  Brand nodded. “Tomkin ran off to lead it away—to give you more time.”

  Trev’s expression changed. He had a wild, hunted look in his eye.

  “It can’t be!” he said. “I touched Morgana, and she had the White on her breast at the time. How could it be that the storm didn’t start at that very moment?”

  “You are for the most part immune to the magic of the Jewels,” Gudrin explained. “The storm could not start between the Quicksilver and the White. Besides, for it to start, they must all be in proximity, as they have not been for many centuries.”

  “If I’m immune, then I can’t be consumed,” Trev said stubbornly.

  It pained Brand to see Trev arguing against his fate, but he could hardly blame the boy.

  “You’re immune to the Jewels—but not the storm.”

  Brand turned a sour glance toward Gudrin. He could not believe she was still able to speak. Any human would have died long ago. The legendary toughness of the Kindred often left them like this, lingering.

  “Come boy,” Fafna said suddenly, “I will bear you to safety!”

  “There is none for him,” Gudrin said. “It’s best—”

  “You’ve had your say,” Brand said gruffly, turning on her. “You’ve done your part in this tragedy. Let the man die as he will!”

  Trev and Gudrin both looked at him. Brand realized he held Ambros over his head as if he were an executioner, ready to strike off someone’s head. Brand took a deep breath and lowered the Axe. He clasped hands with Trev.

  “There is one who might speak with you,” Brand said. “He walks with Slet.”

  Trev followed Brand’s arm and saw where he pointed. He took steps in that direction. Fafna followed, and Brand was sure in that moment there was a look of concern on the dragon’s strange face. He would not have believed it, if he hadn’t witnessed it for himself. The dragon had bonded with Trev—with the Quicksilver.

  As he watched them go to where Slet and Puck stood, Brand saw the storm flash redly near the river. He smiled grimly. Tomkin had led the storm on a merry chase—running it right into Oberon. Now it had consumed both their Jewels.

  He was certain that this final trick played upon Oberon would be Tomkin’s favorite, perhaps until the end of his days.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Farewells

  Trev met with Slet and Puck. Although the Black was gone, the Dead elf still walked. All the rest of the Dead were lying in repose again. Trev knew that he was seeing his father—or at least a shadow of him. He did not know what strength Puck might have left in him, but he knew that it could not be long.

  “Trev?” Puck asked upon seeing his son for the first time in more than a decade.

  “Yes, father? Does your mind still inhabit your body? Why?”

  “It won’t for long. I’m glad to see you though, one more time.”

  They clasped hands. Trev could not bring himself to hug the Dead thing before him, despite the fact it wore his father’s face. Fortunately, Puck seemed to understand.

  “What should I do, father? They tell me that a storm is coming to swallow me up.”

  “Do what you will. You’ve lived a fine life, short though it might have been. Many have done far less with far more years.”

  “Did you know?” Trev asked. “Did you know what I was, and what might happen to me?”

  Puck nodded. “Yes. I meant to tell you in time, but you were so young when I left the family.”

  “Why then did you make me?”

  “I…your mother made me happy. I wanted to do the same for her.”

  Trev shook his head. “I fear for mother’s sanity. She’s going to lose us both today.”

  “She’s a strong woman. She’ll find her way. But I would not have her sit up every night for the rest of her days waiting for us, wondering if we might yet come back.”

  Trev stared at his father. His eyes stung, but he fought back the tears. He was a man now, and he didn’t want people to remember him bawling like an infant in his final moments.

  Puck looked at the dragon curiously. “You’ve made a friend, I see.”

  “Hardly,” said the dragon, attempting to appear aloof.

  Puck chuckled. It was a raspy sound. Slet looked at him in surprise.

  “Puck, you can laugh? You have more freedom of mind than at any time since I raised you. Is this what you were like in life?”

  “Yes, I guess so. The effects of the Black Scepter are fading now.”

  Trev looked from one to the other, then back to the storm. He saw with alarm it was heading toward him. He backed away several steps.

  “Should I flee, father?”

  “You are full grown. Every man should die on his feet, not hiding in a well. But if there is something you want to do, you must do it fast.”

  Trev nodded. He climbed upon the dragon’s back and whispered to it. They launched into the air.

  After the boy had taken flight, Slet was not surprised to see Puck lay himself down and become still. The elf had returned to death at last.

  * * *

  Brand watched Trev take off into sky, and he waved to him, although he doubted the lad saw the gesture.

  “I guess he decided to run for it, Gudrin,” he said aloud.

  Gudrin did not answer him. He turned to her, and saw her eyes had glazed over. Kindred Warriors pressed close and fussed over the body of their Queen. Brand could not recall ever having seen a single Kindred cry before, not even while in the throes of a grim death. He had not thought them capable of weeping.

  “Good-bye, Gudrin,” he said, feeling old and weary all of a sudden. He thought of Telyn, and wanted to feel the comfort of her arms again. He sat and cradled her, and she stirred as if resting peacefully.

  He looked around him, seeing the devastation of his life’s work for the first time. There was a massive tree laying across what seemed to be half his land. The walls were broken, both the inner and the outer. There was so much work to be done. It would take years.

  “Brand, look!” Tomkin said. “It’s coming for you next!”

  Brand turned to face the storm. It was huge now, and loomed over him.

  “Tomkin?” he asked, not turning away from the storm. “What’s it like when you lose your Jewel forever?”

  “Not as bad as I thought it would be. I’m free now. The Jewels are like ghosts, Brand. They make you love them and dream of them—but really, all along, you’re being haunted by a spirit.”

  Brand nodded. He could believe that. But still, he did not want to give up Ambros.

  He lifted the Axe high and made it light up the world with golden light. He closed his eyes then, and cast sunlight into the face of the swirling storm.

  Slowing wheeling and roaring, the storm made it difficult for any of them to be heard. The cloud came close and spun over his head. He could still see, to his surprise, blue sky through its heart. There, beyond the eye of the storm, there was a clear, sunny day.

  He lifted his Axe high, gritting his teeth. The storm plucked Ambros from his fingers, and snatched it away.

  Brand collapsed. He had fought so hard, for so long. He was no longer able to function.

  He felt himself falling, but he never felt the ground as it came up to meet him. He fell so deeply asleep beside his bride that neither of them could be awakened until the next morning.

  * * *

  Trev rode the dragon into the gathering night. He glanced back frequently, and although the storm was far behind, he could always see it—he had not left it behind.

  Fafna tried to convince him to leave Cymru entirely, to fly south with the high winds and find warmer lands to inhabit. Th
ere were places there, seas and beaches. She did her best to create in the boy’s mind a paradise of warmth and beauty.

  But when they reached the Haven, Trev finally spoke: “Take me home, friend. I wish to meet my end there.”

  Grumbling, the dragon did as he asked. At dusk, they landed in his mother’s garden.

  At first, Trev thought perhaps his mother wasn’t home. An icy dagger stabbed at his heart. To have come all this way and then to be consumed alone—it didn’t seem fair.

  But then the door slowly opened. A voice called out from within. A familiar voice.

  “Trev? Is that you? Do you still draw breath?”

  “It’s me, mother,” he said, dismounting and walking through the vegetable garden.

  He turned to the dragon before he mounted the steps. “Thank you, Fafna,” he said. “Thanks for everything.”

  “There’s no need for this,” Fafna said, “climb up on my back again and let us fly.”

  “We can’t outrun it forever. I’m the last one. It will follow us to the ends of the Earth and back again.”

  The dragon looked up at the sky, and cursed the storm. It was coming, a dark cloud on the horizon. Each minute it grew larger, and already the winds were beginning to pick up.

  “Trev, could you leave your…friend and come inside?” his mother called from the safety of the porch. “It looks like a summer storm is blowing up.”

  Trev smiled. His mother was like no other in the Haven, with the possible exception of Telyn. She’d seen so much that not even finding a dragon in the garden could send her screaming.

  “Coming, mother,” he said.

  He turned back to the dragon. “You might live a very, very long time,” he told her. “Maybe long enough to see me again, if what Gudrin said is true.”

  The dragon nodded slowly. “Very well then, until we meet again.”

  The dragon’s wings snapped and caught the air. With a terrific downstroke, she climbed into the sky and vanished, heading south.

  Part of Trev’s heart wished he’d gone with her. But then he turned to his mother, who had rushed to grab him by the shoulders.

  “Trev!” she scolded. “Imagine, bringing home a dragon! You’re worse than your father. I thought you might invite the thing in for tea.”

  They embraced then, and Trev felt at home for the first time in many years. They walked inside, and they talked. He could barely hear what was said, such was his state of mind. He was full of sadness and joy at the same time.

  At last, the hour came. The storm was outside, rolling around in a black gale that rattled the house and screamed around the eves.

  Mari turned away from the windows, concerned.

  “This is no natural storm, Trev,” she said. “What…is that a tear in your eye, boy?”

  “Mum, I…I must go now.”

  “Go? Go where?” she asked, clasping him.

  “I don’t know. But I can’t come back.”

  Her grip tightened.

  “You have to let me go. The storm will take down the house. It may even consume us both.”

  She was stunned. “I won’t let you go.”

  “I talked to father. He’s at rest now. He said you made him happy.”

  “Well, I’m not happy now!”

  “Mum, I won’t die. Not really. I won’t come back for a thousand years, but if all the wisest are right, I will come back. I’ll live again. But you won’t be there to greet me.”

  She clung to him and sobbed. The storm grew in strength, ripping shingles from the roof and breaking a window with one of them as it whipped it around the house. The walls shook and trembled.

  “I’ve got to step outside before it destroys the cottage. Don’t make me watch you die. I must go.”

  She looked at him and kissed him and caressed his cheek. Then she let him go.

  “In a thousand years, son,” she said.

  He nodded, then he opened the door and stepped outside.

  The blackness was complete.

  There were no stars. There was no ground. There was nothing but the storm.

  Trev knew in his last moments where he was. He’d been here before. He was in the place that was nowhere, the place between the worlds, the empty void of chaos. He wondered briefly where he would come to life again, and who his parents might be the next time.

  And then, he was gone.

  End of Dream Magic

  Appendix A: The Nine Jewels

  Author’s Note:

  The Jewels and their magical powers are entirely of my own invention. They overlay the world of the Haven and its surroundings, and generate most of the conflicts. The Jewels represent the colors generated by any prism, and appear in nature in the form of a rainbow. There is a history of superstition surrounding rainbows in Celtic lore. (You may recall the legendary leprechaun that sits upon his pile of gold at the foot of rainbow). These lovely weather anomalies were historically seen as magical apparitions and given many meanings. In the Haven series, they are frightening and tend to come to life—literally.

  The Jewels vary in power, but in general the primary colors—red, blue and yellow—are more powerful than the blended secondary colors, green, purple and orange. The Dark Jewels, the Black, the White and the Quicksilver, are easily as powerful as the primary Jewels in their own way.

  I’ll list each of the Nine here and detail some of their properties.

  -BVL

  The Core of Magic in Cymru:

  The Original Sunstone (the core of the Sun Dragon) was split into the nine known colors, which represent all the forms of magic. All magic in the series is some mixture of the various varieties of magic of which the Jewels are capable. The Shards of the Sunstone are so powerful many duels, and even wars, are fought over the possession of each.

  The Sunstone was the lost core from which all the other Jewels were born. It can only exist when all the others are brought together and reforged into a single entity. This is the closest thing the people of this world have to a Creator, a single living god. The Jewel has the power to recreate the universe itself.

  The Primary Jewels:

  The Amber, the Blue and the Red are often judged more powerful than the three Secondary Stones.

  Amber Jewel:

  Ambros the Golden, embedded in the axe, is a champion jewel, gives courage, strength, and berserker powers. Ambros is one of the most powerful of the Nine and is wielded by Brand throughout most of the books.

  Blue Jewel:

  Lavatis is usually in an amulet. It calls the Rainbow giant and causes storms, otherwise known as Sky magic.

  Red Jewel:

  Sange appears in the form of a small bloodhound. Blood magic is strange and vile. It can be used to heal or deform, and causes vampirism. The Red allows the wielder to merge flesh of others into monsters.

  The Secondary Jewels:

  While not as great in power as the rest, the Lavender, the Green, and the Orange are still potent nonetheless.

  Lavender Jewel:

  Osang wields Shadow magic. The owner is the master of sight and sound. Invisibility, flight, silence and stealth.

  Green Jewel:

  Vaul is the Jewel of growth and druidic magic. It causes things to sprout and flourish lushly. Sometimes the owner is consumed by it. If left alone too long, it grows a wooden staff over itself that must be trimmed or will become a tree—which can consume the owner if he isn’t careful.

  Orange Jewel:

  Pyros is an evil object, thought of as the most powerful of the secondary Jewels. In olden times Pyros the Orange was perhaps the most destructive and well known. The man Pyros, the Jewel’s namesake, was infamous for burning six villages of the lake peoples many generations ago. The sorcerer and tyrant fashioned the Jewel into the crest of his silver crown and enjoyed lancing anyone or thing who stood up to him with a fiery beam of pure heat. After a time this habit led to a bald, scarred head and a terrifying countenance and reputation, which seemed to suit the tyrant’s tastes. Eventuall
y, he was brought down, but not soon enough to save the lake people, who afterward retreated into the cool gloom of the forests and rivers and never seemed to regain their former numbers nor their trust of Men (these are the Merlings of today).

  The Dark Jewels:

  The most mysterious of the Nine, and easily as powerful as the Primaries, are the Dark Jewels. They have no representative within the prism of colors; instead they represent light, the absence of light, and reflectivity. They are the White, the Black and the Quick-silver.

  White Jewel:

  Often called “the Shard” or the Sun Jewel. The White Shard is a piece of the creator, the basis for all the others that split apart, and at the beginning of the series it is gone from the Earth... It, unlike the other Jewels, is a chunk of the original Stone, and thus has properties of all the colors mixed together. Its greatest power is over the minds of others. The White Jewel appears as a clasp upon a shimmering white robe.

  Black Jewel Necron:

  The Onyx is the Black Jewel of death and decay. Darkness, vile evil and unspeakable spawnlings come from it. All true evil powers seek Necron, the Onyx Jewel. It appears as a king’s scepter with a black stone at the tip.

  Quicksilver Jewel:

  The Quicksilver was the molten reflective lump left behind by the White after all the color had been drain of it. It is the Jewel of null-magic. It removes color, life, and magic from the world, rather than adding to it. The Jewel reflects magic and can influence the magic of other Jewels that come near. In the last story of the series, its true nature is revealed.

  Appendix B: Major Characters

  Author’s Note:

  Each of these players has significant time as the Point-of -View in the stories, often for several chapters or books.