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The Veil Weavers

Page 10

by Maureen Bush

When it was quiet, I told Keeper, “I think it will be harder for magic folk to cross the veil, now. Not impossible, but harder. And I stranded magic folk and a girl and a tourist and some animals.” I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I had to strengthen the veil.”

  Keeper nodded. “You did what was necessary.”

  “You can rescue them, can’t you?” asked Maddy.

  He smiled at her. “I will take care of them. But I am no longer Keeper.”

  Maddy frowned. “You should be Keeper. I know you destroyed the nexus ring, but you protect this whole land.”

  “You are much greater than the keeper of the ring,” I said. “You’re the keeper of the magic world.”

  Keeper stared down at me, his eyes wet. “That is what you are,” he said. “I failed.”

  “No, you found me. I’m your magic boy,” I said.

  “You are the Ancient Boy.”

  “And you are Keeper.”

  “It is a good name,” said Eneirda.

  “It is a fine name,” said Greyfur. “You were right about the human boy, chrrr. You have kept our world safe.”

  Keeper thought about it, and finally nodded. “Very well, I will still be Keeper.”

  Maddy grinned and leaned in for a hug. Then she looked at me. “Ancient Boy,” she said, like she was trying on the name for size.

  “Does it work?” I asked, “now that I’m back to normal?”

  “Oh, you’re not back to normal,” she said, studying me. “You’ll never be the way you were before.”

  “What do you mean?” I said. “My magic is gone.”

  “Maybe,” she said. “But you’re not just human any more.”

  Vivienne stood, her face turned to the sky. “A storm is coming. You need to return to Calgary.”

  Keeper stood, too. “Greyfur and Eneirda will take you.”

  “Are they well enough?” asked Maddy.

  “Hnn, we are well now, thank you,” said Eneirda.

  They looked good, tall and joyful. I could see magic building in them again.

  We wrapped our cloaks around ourselves.

  “Children need to cross time, tss,” Eneirda reminded Keeper. “Josh will not be able to, and we cannot.”

  Corvus muttered, a low grumbly sentence. I muttered back and then I said, “The crows will help us. Corvus says they’ll be able to open the doorway and shift time.”

  “Even now, with the veil strengthened?” Keeper asked.

  Maddy studied them. “Yes,” she said. “They’ll be fine. They’re strong, together.” Then she looked at me. “You can understand them?”

  I stared at her, and then at Corvus. “Yes,” I said, shocked. I listened to their chatter. “Yes, I can understand them now.”

  “You really are their crow boy,” Maddy said.

  I grinned, at Maddy and at the crows. I did have a little magic left, after all.

  Maddy and I stepped into the boat waiting for us on the shore of the Bow. Greyfur and Eneirda climbed in, and Crowby hopped onto the rim beside me.

  Keeper wrapped magic around us.

  “Our cloaks will keep us warm,” I said.

  He nodded. “Yes, and I will, too. You have done enough.” He wrapped us in a bubble of warmth, Greyfur, Eneirda and Crowby, too. Crowby squawked and shook it off. Keeper grinned.

  He pushed the boat into the river. The current was with us; it would be an easy trip home. Maddy called out goodbye and I waved. Keeper raised a hand in farewell.

  The crows rose in a mass, cawing and trilling, chasing each other as they played in the sky.

  Brox and Vivienne had left before us, slowly walking down the Bow, leaving the mountains for the winter. Vivienne led the way. As we floated past I could hear her singing:

  Come, follow follow follow,

  follow follow follow me.

  My eyes lingered, wondering if we would be back. Then I looked at Keeper and the crows, and knew, absolutely, that we would be. We were part of this world.

  As Greyfur and Eneirda paddled, Maddy and I began to sing:

  My paddle’s keen and bright,

  flashing with silver,

  swift as a wild goose flight,

  dip, dip and swing.

  Dip, dip and swing.

  Author’s Note

  The songs Vivienne sings are old camp songs.

  “Come Follow, Follow, Follow” (John Hilton, 1599-1657) is an old English round, but it may be more familiar in the version sung on Sesame Street, using the phrase “To the Redwood, Redwood Tree” (there are Redwood trees in California).

  “Buffalo Gals” (John Hodges, 1844) and “Home on the Range” (adapted from the original by Dr. Brewster M. Higley, 1873) are American, and there are American versions of “Red River Valley,” but it has been traced to Canada prior to 1886. “Land of the Silver Birch” is a traditional Canadian paddling song, and “My Paddle’s Keen and Bright” is another paddling song (Margaret Embers McGee, 1918).

  Thanks to the Alberta Foundation for the Arts for financial support for this project.

  Thanks again to Barbara Sapergia, for her unerring eye, and to Rona Altrows, for her steadfast encouragement.

  Photograph by Mark Harding

  About the Author

  Maureen Bush is the author of five books for children, including the first two in the Veil of Magic series, The Nexus Ring and Crow Boy. Her books have been shortlisted for numerous awards, including the Silver Birch and the Saskatchewan Diamond Willow.

  Born in Edmonton, Maureen Bush now lives in Calgary with her husband and younger daughter.

 

 

 


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