The Magic Lands (11 page)

"Remember boys," Mo told them,
"the White Wolf can use many things against us. Do not place your
faith or trust in anyone or anything unless you feel certain in
your heart that they are true."

"So who was the boy?"
questioned Tom. "And the woman that Jack saw?"

"It’s difficult to say," began
the badger. "Illusions or disguises. Or perhaps they were exactly
what they appeared to be. These lands are deceptive. Remember
that." The animal increased his pace, the boys hurrying along
beside him. As they walked, Tom peering ahead for some sign of
Dredger, Mo began to speak again. "Listen, both of you. There is
something I need to tell you." The badger glanced up at them to be
sure he had their attention and seeing that he did, continued.
"There was a time, a beginning let us call it, when the first ones
came. They were like children, innocents, devoid of evil or
corruption and the land blossomed under their care. It was truly a
wonderful place then." He said this with a deep sadness and was
silent for several moments. "They brought with them a power," he
went on, "a great magic which they used to give prosperity and
peace to every kingdom, every realm." Their speed slowed, Mo a
little breathless. "I am old, " he said apologetically.

"So what happened?" asked Tom
after a moment.

The animal bared his sharp
teeth. "Something else came with them," he growled, his voice low.
"The Beast."

They made their way along a
bumpy track of mud and stone and Tom kicked at a twig. "Couldn't
they do anything against it?"

"In the very beginning the Wolf
was not as it is now. No, it was very different then. But even when
they saw the depravity that lurked within its soul, they chose not
to destroy it, although that was within their power. They allowed
it to go its own way and so bring its influence to bear upon the
land."

"But why? They must have known
what would happen," insisted Jack.

"True enough," acknowledged Mo,
"and there lies perhaps the greatest mystery of all. Why? But you
must realise, Jack, that true evil is beguiling. It will win you
over if it can and use your own heart’s desires against you. But
the Beast is corruption, incarnate. Never forget that. It has set
about perverting all that is fair and pure and shall not rest until
everything has become depraved."

"So what happened to them…the
first ones?" Jack wanted to know, frowning.

“
Some say they will
return one day to set things to rights. Of course, others say that
they were destroyed by the Beast long ago, if they ever existed at
all.”

“
But what do you say?”
Tom asked, eyeing the badger carefully.

“
I,” spoke Mo, looking
away, “I have my hopes. And for the moment at least that will have
to be enough.”

"What I want to know," said Tom
after a long pause, "is where did this Wolf come from in the first
place? You say that everything was fine and then it just pops up
and ruins it all."

Mo looked at them ruefully.
“Some say the answers lie in the ancient poems and runes, but few
truly understand their meaning. Perhaps you, Tom, already know more
than you may have supposed."

"What do you mean?" Tom asked,
confused.

"Is it not true that you know
many strange stories and poems?" Tom realised the badger was
talking about the things Uncle Ira had taught him. "Your Uncle is
an old friend."

"Uncle Ira!" Tom cried in
disbelief. "But how…when?"

"There are many things you do
not know, some perhaps you will never know, but Ira has walked
these roads before. He is an enemy of the Wolf."

Tom could hardly believe what
he was hearing. Uncle Ira here? But how long ago? Was he here
now?

"I can see this has come as a
surprise to you," said Mo, "but really it should not have. Think of
all that you have seen and heard since you first came to live at
your new home."

"Just how much do you know
about me anyway?" demanded Tom, feeling as if he had slipped into
one of the disquieting dreams he had been having of late. In fact,
just as Jack had said, he too felt more tired than usual. Sleep
seemed to offer little solace.

"All that I need to know, Tom.
But I am afraid that further explanation must wait. All things come
to be when they are meant to be."

It was as though Uncle Ira was
there himself, the familiar words echoing through Tom's mind and he
knew he would have to be patient. "Did my Uncle know I would come
here?" he asked the badger finally.

"Yes," Mo said gravely, "but he
did not want you to come, that much I can say. He was bound by
forces outside of our control. In this there is no choice for any
of us."

Tom thought this over for a
moment before speaking again. "Is he safe?"

Looking up at the cloudless
sky, the animal did not meet the boys gaze. "I don't know."

Not far ahead, Dredger stood at
the edge of a clearing, surrounded by high trees.

His wait had been long, but now
equivocal time had moved on. He was the warrior of old. A circle of
giant stones stood within the clearing, each menhir cut from
ancient rock into a monolith now embedded in the earth. In all
seventeen abided there. They would never fall.

Dredger walked proudly into the
heart of Thauma's Ring and as he passed beyond the boundary of the
stones, he felt a harsh chill cut through his body. For a moment he
hesitated, before speaking aloud. "Show me the truth."

The warrior looked about him,
feeling each menhir with his eyes, recalling the times when he and
his father had come to this place to pray. He thought too of his
mother, she who had brought him into the world and cared for him
and his sister, Elizabeth, so spirited and carefree. Fragments of
his past. A time lost, never to be regained.

“
Show me,” he bellowed
suddenly. But there was only a silence that lived within his heart,
an emptiness that threatened to consume him. The circle was nothing
more than stone and earth.

Matthew Hooper opened the door
and stepped out, a cool breeze ruffling his greying hair. His wife
still lay sleeping inside. At the edge of the forest, the Wolf was
waiting for him and slowly he made his way across a field of wild
flowers to meet the Beast.

"Good day to you, Matthew,"
said the White Wolf courteously. The man remained silent, watching
and listening intently. "And how is my garden this fine day?"

"All is well," replied the man,
his tone full of resignation.

"That is good," voiced the Wolf
with a crooked smile. "That is very good.” The Beast paused, gazing
at the man with dark, unblinking eyes. “And now alas, I must leave
you." The old man looked into the creatures eyes and knew he was
peering into the fires of hell itself. "Remember, remember," sang
the White Wolf, "I am the law of the land. Do not fail me, do not
betray me. Remember this always." The Beast half turned as if to go
but then paused. "Oh yes, just one other thing." Matthew felt his
heart flutter in his chest, fear choking him. "I am taking your
wife away with me today."

The ground seemed to melt
beneath the man's feet, his vision suddenly foggy, ill-defined
shadows spinning deliriously before his eyes. "What?" he managed,
but his dizziness became too great and he almost lost his
balance.

"All of you, everyone, must
learn," the Wolf breathed softly. "I am the law, I am the land. Now
get back to your work."

Turning blindly, Matthew began
to stumble back the way he had come. As he went up the steps to his
porch, the house seemed to lean crazily, its bricks expanding,
contorting into an impossible shape. The doorway became the
grinning jaws of the Wolf, ready to devour him and as he entered he
knew everything was lost, tears burning his cheeks.

The bed where his wife had lain
was empty, the sheets neatly turned back and the old man screamed,
a despairing sound that filled the house and pierced his mind.
Grabbing his rifle from its place upon the wall, he staggered
outside weeping and on the outskirts of the forest he saw a white
stag watching him. With vengeance in his heart Matthew ran as best
he could toward the thicket of trees, the stag seeming to await his
coming. "It don’t matter what shape you take. Now you're going to
die!" he screamed at the animal. The white stag merely scratched
the ground with its hoof and watched, its dusky eyes fixed on him.
Taking up the gun, Matthew halted perhaps ten feet from the
creature and took aim. His finger tightened on the trigger, sweat
crawling over his body. But he hesitated.

The stag stood very still, its
eyes regarding him blankly. After a long moment, he finally pulled
the trigger.

The crack of the gunshot and
the recoil of the weapon happened all at once, pushing him back
with its impact. The force sent him reeling, knocking him to the
ground, the rifle thrown from his hands. Unsteadily he brought
himself up onto his knees and looked at the

creature sprawled unmoving upon
the forest earth.

The Beast is dead!

He experienced a heady
mixture of joy and grief and gaining his feet, slowly walked over
to the animal's carcass. Standing above it, he half expected the
creature to suddenly spring up at him, but no, it remained quite
still. The old man kicked at the body and feeling his boot thud
solidly into its ribs, he kicked it again and then again, a frenzy
taking control of him. The Beast
was
dead. He had killed it. Leaning over the
corpse with a triumphant smile on his thin, withered lips, the man
examined the stag's face. Its eyes were open but they were
vacant.

"It is dead," he shouted
aloud.

"Yes it is, isn't it," said a
voice from behind him.

Matthew whirled around and saw
the White Wolf crouching by the exposed roots of a gnarled tree.
"Y-you...?" he stammered, "but I killed you!"

The Wolf laughed, a mocking,
coarse sound that cut through the man with a cold, helpless dread.
"You killed a stag, old man. Now that was not a nice thing to do.
Whatever had the stag done to deserve such a fate?" The Wolf
grinned and licked saliva away from its snout.

Covering his face with his
hands, Matthew knelt down beside the stag and wept. "Forgive me,"
he sobbed, stroking the animal's soft neck.

"Yes, forgive him," the
Wolf chuckled. "He made a very bad mistake. But even so, I have a
gift for you. Something to take your mind off such a tragedy." The
old man did not look up, tears blurring his vision. "Look at me!"
commanded the White Wolf. "
Look
at me."

Reluctantly, Matthew raised his
head and saw that the creature held something between its grinning
jaws and with horror in his heart he recognised it as a human head,
severed at the neck.

He was staring into the
lifeless, unfeeling eyes of his wife.

REAL MAGIC

When they came upon Dredger his
head was bowed as if in prayer. He no longer stood within the
boundary of the megalithic circle, but just beyond, half concealed
within the shadows of the looming pillars of stone.

There was an atmosphere of
veneration about the place and sensing this, Tom and Jack refrained
from speaking, only looking on in wonder at the huge monoliths,
majestic structures of elementary power. Tom guessed that they
towered perhaps twenty feet above his head and were at least eight
feet in width.

After some time, Dredger lifted
his head and turned to gaze down at the badger, his face grim. "It
is true then," he said stiffly, forcing the words. "Everything is
gone."

Mo made no reply and coming to
stand beside the boys, the warrior addressed them all. "Now we must
take a different path," he growled, then turning to Tom, "boy! Come
here." He pointed at the ground in front of him, his grey eyes
never leaving Tom and reluctantly the boy came and stood before
him. "I am now a man without a past. Perhaps I have no future
either." Dredger said this with a mixture of bitterness and sorrow.
"So now it falls upon you to lead the way."

Tom just stared up at him.
"Aren't you coming with us?" he muttered, not really certain if he
wanted the man to say yes or no.

"That is not the issue,"
Dredger snapped and Tom almost recoiled beneath the warrior’s
intense scrutiny.

The truth was Tom couldn’t
believe what he was hearing. Him lead!? What was the man talking
about!?

"The road is
treacherous," continued Dredger, "but there are some things I can
tell you, to aid you on your journey." This was all happening too
fast and Tom didn't know what to think. He just looked on dumbly.
"I do not know the path you must take," went on the warrior, "but a
place exists where the way might be shown to you." He paused and
turned to the badger. "You know where I speak of?" The animal
nodded. "It is a perilous place, but nonetheless you
must
go."

"Why do things always have be
dangerous around here?" commented Jack, suppressing a yawn.

Dredger gave him a dark look,
but did not respond. Instead his attention seemed to be fixed on
Tom.

"Where do we have to go?" Tom
asked eventually, deciding he might as well know the worst of
it.

Dredger stood before him, a
commanding figure and yet apparently incapable of leading them. All
at once, Tom was overcome by despair, his own inability to cope
with the events which had overtaken his life weighing down upon
him.

"You must pass through
Issylvan, the forest of ice and then enter the caves of
Rith-ran-ro-en. There you may find your path," the warrior
instructed.

"And what dangers must we
face?" questioned Tom, forcing himself to ask.

"All kinds of evil," Mo warned,
"all kinds of magic. We must travel across a land of snow and ice.
And snow and ice is white, as you know."