Behind the Sorcerer's Cloak (4 page)

“Noooo!” screamed Zorianna. “Up…UP to the Dark Being.”

She shouted, cursed and railed, but the staff towed them faster and faster downward.

Without warning, Zorianna swung a leg backward, kicking out at Adam. She was trying to get rid of him to lighten her load!

Adam arched his back and swung his body away from Zorianna's flailing foot.

“Be gone, you human pestilence!” she shrieked.

Sheer panic kept him hanging on. And anger. He'd stuck it out this long. No way was he going to give up if the staff was rebelling. Adam tried to ease his cramping fingers.

He risked letting go with one hand. He wound the hem of the cloak around his wrist to relieve the weight. The movement made him spin round and round in space. He grabbed the cloak again with his free hand.

Closing his eyes, Adam sent a desperate burst of mindspeak.

Someone help me! Someone help me! Someone help me!

Warmth and hope crept around him. A faint chant sang in his ears, comforting him. He couldn't make out the words, but the voices were familiar. The chant eased his panic and added strength to his fingers. It was as though his cousins were beside him, encouraging him, giving him strength.

Manannan cocked an ear. A song rippled around Gaia. Someone was practicing Earth Magic.

What a pleasant change. He'd thought humans had forgotten. He listened again. “Paitchyn's voices,” he murmured softly. “Children.” He smiled, heartened by the once familiar chant of earth, air, fire and water.

Deep in the secret heart of his kingdom, magic flickered. The Sleeper began to dream.

Zorianna gave up trying to dislodge Adam.

She turned again to the staff, trying to force it to do her bidding.

Adam watched as Zorianna dragged her body, hand over hand, along the staff's length. “Now I have you,” she shrieked. She clamped her knees around the staff, riding it like a broomstick, pulling up on its head.

The staff plummeted like a stone, down through the grayness.

Zorianna grimaced and gripped so tightly her hands turned white.

Adam was pulled along behind. He flinched as Zorianna turned a white face toward him.

“Boy, help me!” she screamed.

Adam shook his head.

“Help me!” she shrieked. “We will both be killed.”

Adam groaned. She had a point.

He gave a small nod.

Zorianna hauled on her cloak. “Quickly,” she gasped as soon as Adam was within her reach. “Add your weight to the back of the staff. Force the head upward.”

Adam glared. He didn't want to help. But his arms needed a break, and he didn't want to hit the ground and become scrambled egg.

“Climb on, boy. You will be rewarded.”

Yeah, right, thought Adam. He swung one leg over the staff as Zorianna hauled on the back of his T-shirt.

Whoa…Adam felt safer sitting astride. The new position rested his arms. He took a deep breath, and new courage flowed through his veins. The only drawback was having Zorianna so near. He hated her. He couldn't bear to touch her.

Adam shuffled as far back as he could, perching on the very end of the staff, keeping as big a gap as possible between his body and Zorianna's. He concentrated on the magic that surged through the wood. Myrddin's magic. It felt good.

Zorianna shouted and cussed again.

Myrddin's staff refused to alter direction. On and on it dropped.

Zorianna screamed out spell after spell.

At last, the staff stopped falling.

Adam relaxed for a brief moment before the staff bucked like a horse, stood on end and spun rapidly.

Zorianna threw herself full length, gripping with hands, knees, feet and teeth.

Adam jerked to avoid touching her as the staff gave a corkscrew twist. He flew off and cannonballed through the mist.

“Aaaargggghhhh!”

His cry of despair shivered the stars.

The Mists of Time alerted Manannan. He jumped to his feet. “The boy's in trouble.”

He grasped leaves of Bollan Bane, crushed them and threw their dust into the Mists of Time.

“Bollan Bane, good Bollan Bane,

Help this child, in Manannan's name.”

Adam, dusted with Bollan Bane, hurtled through the thinned and tattered edges of the Mists of Time.

The Bollan Bane conjured a fleeting vision. A white-haired old man stretched out a hand and called, “Remember Earth Magic, paitchey. Remember the Light.”

Adam hardly registered the vision or the message. It didn't matter. He was toast. He was cannonballing toward something that made his skin crawl.

Adam yelled, then screamed as a mind-numbing Shade grabbed him and dragged him into a whirling vortex of hatred.

Still screaming, he was sucked through the maelstrom and dropped into a gray silence.

“Hush, hush. You are safe, courageous boy. I have you,” said a voice as velvet as midnight, as sweet as honey.

Adam's head and mind hurt. He felt bruised, body and soul. The tortured muscles in his arms shrieked with pain, and his fingers cramped and ached. He groaned, wished he was dead and realized he was still alive. Adam opened his eyes.

A smiling young woman, her face and shoulders framed by an untamed cloud of curly dark hair, leaned over him.

He lay on a soft wrap at her feet.

Despite his pain, Adam's breath caught. She was beautiful, and as she moved her gown rippled like molten silver. She leaned over and dropped another wrap of exquisite softness over him. She made stroking movements in the air above his body, and the pain dulled.

Relief and gratitude swept over Adam. He'd been rescued. This amazing woman had snatched him from the terror of the Dark Being. His eyes closed. He was so exhausted he couldn't think clearly, but he tried to lift his head to thank her.

A new wave of agony hit. He whimpered and fell back.

He felt the woman gently touch his temples, then stroke his arms and shoulders. The pain began to recede.

Adam tried again.

“Th…thank…you. Thanks…for rescuing me.” He shuddered. “The…the dark…the cold…was awful.” He struggled to make sense of things. “Are you th…the Lady? Holly said you'd be beautiful.” He fought the waves of exhaustion engulfing him. “I…I…thought…the Dark Being had me.” He tried to grasp her hand, but muscles spasmed, and his arm fell back. “Th…th…thanks…I'm Adam…a…Magic Child.”

The beautiful young woman smiled and tucked his arm inside the wrap. “Don't try to speak, you're hurt and tired. Sleep, Adam the Courageous, sleep and heal.”

Adam's eyes closed. He sank into oblivion.

CHAPTER TWO

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S
TIRRINGS OF
E
ARTH
M
AGIC

In the hallway of Mr. Green's house in Glastonbury, the phone rang.

Mr. Smythe pounded downstairs as Holly and Owen leapt up and rushed in from the patio. The three collided in the hall.

Holly reached the receiver first. “Hello.”

“Good morning, Love. Having fun at the Glastonbury festival? Sorry to phone so early, but we thought you might be out if we left it much later.”