The Magic Lands (8 page)

The girl smiled at him and he
found himself thinking how pretty she was. "Hello," she
returned.

Now Tom was at a loss for
words.

"Have you seen my sheep?" she
asked.

"Eh, sheep?" began Tom,
struggling to gain his composure. "Oh yes, I did see a lamb, just a
minute ago."

The girl smiled again or
perhaps, thought Tom oddly, she had never stopped smiling. "Could
you tell me which way the little one went?"

Tom looked into her eyes and
decided they were the most beautiful things he had ever seen. They
were like pools of shining light. "I, er," he fumbled, getting a
grip on himself. "I think it went that way." He pointed vaguely in
the direction of the bank.

The girl took one step toward
him and then stopped.

Tom couldn't breath as he
stared at her, his throat tightening, his mouth dry. She really was
the prettiest girl he had ever seen, he decided.

Putting her hand to her lips,
she blew him a kiss. "Thank you, Tom," she said, turning away.

Blushing furiously, Tom called
after her. "What's your name?"

She paused and stood with her
back to him for a moment, then turning her head ever so slightly,
so he could just see the side of her face, she laughed. "Why,
little Bo Peep of course!" She ran off over the bank and as she did
so, long golden hair spilled from beneath her hood and Tom recalled
the strange dream he had experienced the previous evening. Could
that have only been last night?

"Wake up, you sleepy head."

Tom was on a train, he and Jack
speeding toward his home for the summer holidays. It was going to
be the best holiday they had ever had.

"Time to be moving on," said
Mo.

Tom opened his eyes sharply,
the memories of where he was and all that had happened flooding
back so suddenly that he sat up with a start.

"I had a dream," he said,
feeling vaguely foolish, the girl’s face still haunting him, her
dark eyes holding him captive. Try as he might he could not shake
her image from his mind. And the truth was that he wasn’t really
sure that he even wanted to.

RETURN FROM THE PAST

Night had still not fallen as
the company of three trekked on, walking for what seemed like many
miles. They crossed fields and meadows laden with flowers, passing
through dense stands of oak and elm, as well as other trees that
were unfamiliar to Tom and Jack. The landscape never changed. It
was a verdant expanse stretching out before them, apparently
endless.

Tom almost missed the darkness,
it had been light for so long. Time had become displaced. It made
him feel strange inside, as if his body was unsure if it should be
asleep or awake. "Why doesn't time work the same here as it does
where we come from?" he asked the badger.

Mo chuckled to himself. "Time!"
he said with a grunt. "And what is time? Only a man-made thing. It
does not exist outside of the minds of Men. There are no rules
here."

Although Tom was still shaken
by his ordeal at the deserted inn, he was determined to learn as
much as he could. "So are you saying time here has no bearing on
time in our world?" He had accepted now that they were no longer in
the world where he had lived all of his life, the world where his
Uncle and Aunt were. He and Jack had somehow become lost in a place
where things happened as they might in a dream.

"That I do not know. But things
work differently here as you have discovered for yourselves," was
the best answer Mo could give.

Tom glanced up at lofty trees
as they passed beneath a tunnel of leaves. How did the hedge at the
end of his garden connect his world to this one? Or was it the
great oak that was the way in? He wasn't sure, but one thing that
was certain, they were here and they would have to see it through
to the end. Whatever that might be.

At the edge of a small wood,
they came upon a hedge beyond which tall reeds grew in abundance.
The ground was marshy here and reluctantly the boys followed the
badger down an incline, carefully treading the spongy earth. After
easing their way through a thick cluster of bulrushes they came
onto a dry bank, a lake of sable water before them. Huge lily pads
were scattered far across its surface, creating undulating patterns
of green.

"Look!" called Jack, pointing,
"a frog!"

"It's a toad, to be exact,"
corrected Mo as the toad jumped powerfully from one plant to the
next. Jack shot him a dark look, something in his expression almost
malicious, although neither Tom nor the animal noticed it.

The badger led them along
beside the edge of the water, Tom and Jack gingerly making their
way across the sodden terrain, following the sure-footed animal as
best they could. It wasn't long before they noted that the ground
was beginning to rise once more and soon Mo was leading them away
from the lake and over rolling mounds, the land choked by dense
gorse which slowed them down, reducing their speed to little better
than a crawl. For some time they went on like this, the boys
wasting no more breath on idle chatter, until a steep ridge
appeared ahead. But the badger had no intention of finding an
alternative route. He continued on, climbing up and over this rise
and reaching the windswept summit, they came upon a quite startling
spectacle.

Before them stood a stone
archway, ancient and in disrepair, debris scattered all around its
base. But it was not this alone that caught their eye, for within
the archway a great mirror had been placed and their own
reflections greeted their approach.

Jack stood before the structure
and marvelled. "What is it?" he wondered aloud.

"This place is called Porta
Knoll," Mo disclosed, "it is very old."

"But what is it?" the boy
repeated.

"Many mysteries have as yet no
solution," the badger replied.

Jack looked into the huge
mirror and noticed that their images were very slightly distorted,
his own face somehow unrecognisable to him.

Tom also had seen a discrepancy
in his counterpart and stepped closer, examining his own features.
As he drew nearer to the mirror its texture seemed to alter subtly,
the surface shimmering and he halted only inches away from it. He
reached out to touch the glass but incredibly, as his fingers made
contact, they slipped through unchecked into what felt like cool
liquid. Fascinated, he twirled his fingers around within the fluid
and leaned forward until his nose almost touched the glassy
exterior, his arm disappearing into the void beyond.

Abruptly, surprising himself,
he plunged his head forward, taking a deep breath just before he
did so and with his eyes wide open, he found himself surveying an
undersea world of green and blue. Ragged weeds swayed with the
current, a coral-reef reaching out beyond the limit of his sight,
an intricate network of colour. A shoal of tiny fish passed by a
few feet away, seemingly oblivious to his presence and turning
slightly to his left he saw two beautiful sea-horses bobbing
majestically through the clear water, heading in his direction.

"What are you doing here, Tom?"
one hailed him, "don't you know The Deep is a dangerous place?"

Tom felt quite light-headed.
"Where…where am I exactly?"

"You should not linger in the
playground of the Beast," sang the second sea-horse, before making
off into the shadowy regions away to Tom's right. The boy scanned
the dark patches of weed that sprang from the ocean bed and many
sets of gleaming eyes returned his gaze, their forms large but
indistinct, their stillness unsettling. Something else caught his
eye there too, a glimmering object that appeared to be gliding
toward him. As it drew nearer, Tom recognised it as a sword, its
haft encrusted with amber jewels, the point facing him, its
progress slow and listless through the water.

"There lies the soul of the
warrior," a voice said behind him but Tom did not start at the
sound of it or turn to see who had spoken. He merely watched the
blade approach, now no more than ten feet distant. Within the
reeds, the anonymous creatures were becoming restless.

"Take it," the voice ordered
him, a deep and powerful command.

But the sword would not come
any closer. He stretched forward, leaning further and further into
the underwater realm, but always the weapon remained just out of
reach, elusive.

"Take it!"

Tom's muscles ached and yet he
responded with one final effort, but even so, his groping fingers
could only reach the tip of the honed blade.

"I can't," he cried, realising
through his frustration that he had been breathing water for some
time now. "I'll cut myself!"

"TAKE IT," insisted the voice,
seeming to be nearer now, directly behind him.

Reluctantly, but overwhelmed by
a curious compulsion, Tom let his fingers curl around the steel. A
warm sensation passed through his hand and along his arm and he
watched in numb fascination as the sea-water was clouded by his
blood.

"Resurrection," whispered the
waters, the shadows around him alive with agitated fish.

"It hurts," he complained
pulling the sword slowly toward him.

Tom looked down at his hand,
his fingers becoming lifeless, but blood obscured his field of
vision, the weapon appearing insubstantial in his grasp.

"Resurrection!" the ocean
seemed to cry all about him and Tom saw with wonder that no longer
did he grasp the blade. In its place another hand, one much larger
than his own, now clutched at his fingers with dreadful strength
and still his blood flowed into the sea-green kingdom, a scarlet
haze.

Dimly he was aware of a sudden
riotous clamour, the shadowed inhabitants of the reeds surrounding
him, a thousand sets of teeth about to attack. And all at once,
with light blinding him, he re-emerged from the mirror waters,
hauling a burly figure through with him, tumbling over onto the
hard earth.

As he lay sprawled on the
ground, he was amazed to find that he was completely dry, but a
moment later all such thoughts were driven from his mind, a sharp
twinge in his right side making him sit up, hesitant and
bewildered.

My
hand!
he remembered, examining it, but there was no
sign of any injury.

"Here," said a resonant voice
which he did not recognise and Tom was hoisted up effortlessly to
stand before a tall man dressed in a long grey coat and high
boots.

"My name is…Dredger," the
figure introduced himself slowly, as if collecting himself.

Tom looked quickly around for
his friends and was relieved to see Jack standing mutely to one
side, the boy staring at the man with undisguised astonishment.

Padding over to face the
newcomer, the badger spoke. "At last."

The tall man nodded and Tom
found it hard to take his eyes from the man. He was tall and
muscular, a short blade sheathed at his side, his age difficult to
judge but his best guess was around forty. He had the look of a
soldier, but Tom doubted that he would respond well to discipline.
He seemed a man who was his own master.

"This is Tom," Mo indicated.
Jack, who had appeared dazed until now, stepped forward to join the
group. "And this is his companion and friend, Jack," the animal
added.

The man named Dredger eyed both
boys, his expression stern. "Friends are few and far between," he
said with emphasis.

Tom stared at the warrior, for
that undoubtedly he was, wondering just who he could be and how he
had come to be there. He was aware that somehow he had brought this
stranger out of the mirror’s underwater domain, but what had taken
place there to bring about such a thing he could not be entirely
sure. Dreams and reality had intermingled and produced a new
condition, one where truth was blurred and facts were
unreliable.

Dredger addressed Tom, leaning
down to look closely at his face. "You do not know me, but our
destinies are linked. There is much to be accomplished."

Mo came to Tom's side. "Dredger
is an old ally and shall come with us for a way at least. He can
help us against the Wolf."

At the mention of that name,
their new companion became perturbed and Jack thought he heard him
curse under his breath.

"Do you know the White Wolf?"
Tom asked boldly.

Dredger glared at him. "The
white dog!" he growled, "yes, I know it. I have met the Beast
before this day.” He spat the words venomously, his eyes like
burning coals and Tom noted uneasily that the man's pupils had
seemed to alter colour, and even as he watched they shimmered,
changing from yellow to orange to a pale grey. Tom glanced quickly
at Jack, both boys in awe of the man.

Mo looked up at the tall
figure. "I fear the Wolf has become far stronger since you were
last here, my friend."

Dredger seemed unconcerned by
this, folding his powerful arms. "But now I am no longer a child.
And the shape-changer will know my wrath, for the time has come for
all things to be settled. The prophecy will unfold. The boy has
come and I am born again." He looked down at Tom and then spoke
directly to him. "Once, long ago, I fought the Wolf. But I was
defeated." He said this with barely controlled anger. "I was
discarded, worthless, into the void. But I did not perish. I have
awaited your coming, boy. We are a part of the prophecy and the
Wolf knows we are here. This time it will be the Beast who will be
cast down!"

The badger who had listened
carefully to all of this, looked hard at the man. "All that you say
is true, but things change. Nothing is the same now. The old magic
slumbers, the White Wolf rules unchallenged and his power has grown
more dreadful than can be imagined."

Dredger offered no response but
gazed up at the sky. "We must journey to The Circle," he announced
abruptly. "There we shall find the true way of things." Quickly he
moved toward Tom, an urgent look about him. "Do you have the map?"
he asked, impatient for an answer.