The Magic Lands (10 page)

"What's it for?" persisted
Tom.

"It is more a case of
what
was
it for," returned
the badger, moving surely beside him. Jack hung back a little
bringing up the rear in silence, apparently preoccupied with other
things.

"So it's not used now?"

"No, not anymore. But once it
was a wondrous place, a focal point for great power and magic."

Tom tried to imagine the way it
must have been so long ago. "Why did it end?"

Mo looked briefly at the boy.
"The Wolf came."

"Oh," said Tom softly. The
Wolf. What was this creature who they feared so much? He was about
to ask the badger this when a call from just ahead interrupted
him.

"There!" proclaimed Dredger.
"It is a sign."

Mo and the two boys hurried to
the man's side and saw what had excited him. A few yards in front
of them, standing in the middle of a small clearing was a deer. But
what made the sighting remarkable was the animal's colour. The deer
was jet black. It stared at them with a fixed gaze, proud and still
under their scrutiny.

"Why doesn't it run?" whispered
Tom, but Dredger hissed at him to remain silent.

Then, as if the creature had
been given leave to go, it suddenly sprang off through the
trees.

"It is gone," said Dredger with
genuine sadness in his voice.

"Yes," Mo answered, "but I for
one am not certain it was a good omen."

The tall man turned quickly and
glowered down at the animal. "What is your meaning?" he
demanded.

"My meaning," retorted Mo,
regarding the man carefully, "is that since you were last here in
these lands things have changed. No longer do the old laws apply as
once they did. Our deliverance has been given over to powers which
you can not truly understand, at least for now. The Wolf rules here
and it has seen to it that the old magic was lost, or disowned, put
aside by the so called enlightened, the pragmatic. A treasure left
hidden for so long may not be easily refound."

Dredger glared darkly at the
badger and then fleetingly at Tom. "I know the laws," he said
finally. "The old power cannot be destroyed. You will see that when
we reach The Circle. You harbour too many doubts, Mo, and I am
surprised to find you so lacking in faith. Some of the things that
you say are very near to heresy. Have you become a heretic, old
one?"

Mo shook his head. "I merely
wish to warn you against the evil that walks these lands. There is
much you do not know."

"So you say," murmured the man
and turned away, not willing to discuss the matter further. He
stood alone for a moment as if in meditation, then at length he
gestured ahead with an outstretched hand. "It is time to move
on."

As they set off, a grave
silence between them, Tom glanced over at Jack and saw that his
friend wore an odd, almost dreamy expression, his face pallid.
"Jack?" he said, moving beside him.

"Yes, Tom." There was something
in Jack’s tone, a coolness perhaps which caught Tom off-guard.

"Are you all right?" Tom looked
into Jack's eyes and just for a moment he thought that he saw
something move across them, a fleeting shadow. "Jack!?" he urged
again.

"I'm fine...fine," the boy
assured him and smiled.

"Good," Tom managed, but he did
not feel entirely convinced. They continued to walk, the boys now
slightly behind Dredger and the badger who were conversing in low
voices.

"Is it a long way?" asked Jack
absently, as if he were wondering aloud.

"I'm not really sure," Tom
answered, "but I don't think it's very far."

"That's good," sighed Jack,
"I'm tired. I need to sleep."

Tom studied the other boy and
was concerned at how ashen his skin had become. The curious shadow
he thought he had seen surfaced again in his mind. "Didn't you
sleep well last night?" he enquired.

"Like a log," Jack assured him,
"but now I'm tired again. It must be this place. It makes you
tired."

Tom decided that there was some
truth in this and let the matter rest, at least for the time being.
They were in an alien environment and who could say what effect it
was having on them. And as they travelled on, drawing nearer to
Thauma's Ring, he began to wonder just what kind of malevolent
tricks the Wolf was capable of playing on them and what

power it held with which to
affect their minds. And he wondered too, whether they were really
strong enough to survive the consequences.

The badger gave a quick look
back toward the boys and seeing that they were several yards behind
and out of earshot, decided that now was a good time to speak. "My
friend," he began tentatively. The big man cast a glance down at
him but his attitude seemed cold and distant. "There are things we
must speak of."

"What things?" Dredger
growled.

"Important things," stated Mo
with a certainty that caused the man to pay a little more heed to
his words.

"Speak then."

"Long ago, when you did battle
with the Wolf, many prophecies were foretold."

"That is so," agreed Dredger,
recalling the days of old when he, a youthful, intrepid warrior,
had fought against the forces of darkness.

"But," continued the badger,
"that was in the infancy of worlds and now the White Wolf has
grown. It is no longer a child. It is now the father of these
lands."

"The white devil could never
hope to match the old magic," the big man countered.

"Perhaps not, but as I have
tried to tell you, the Beast did not need to. It merely sowed the
seeds of scepticism and the faithless grew. It could not destroy
the old magic, but the Wolf saw to it that it was at least
forgotten."

"Not by me," Dredger
snarled, but he had begun to wonder just what in truth had come to
pass during his enforced dormancy. So long. So long he had been
waiting in the Void. Only waiting until he would be summoned again.
And the boy
had
come. Was
this not the prophecy? He had been called back to these lands and
so a legend was unfolding.

In the realm of the Wolf,

a boy shall walk the road

of treachery and pain.

This shall come to pass,

when the warrior awakens

to face the Beast again.

All must carry burdens

and seek the hidden face,

before our tears shall
wane.

This was but a small passage
from an ancient rune, taught to him by his father and passed down
through many generations by his ancestors. He knew it by heart.

He was the warrior it
told of, this he also knew. He had long prepared for the moment
when he would meet the Wolf in combat. But his defeat had almost
unhinged him. During that seemingly eternal time when he had been
held, neither alive nor dead, in a prison of nothingness, it was
only his unfaltering belief in the prophecies that had allowed him
to retain his sanity. "The old magic," he murmured,
"
it
will tame the
beast."

Mo shook his head sadly,
realising that the man was too much a part of the past to be able
to see what had happened. There was no human way of judging how
much time had passed since Dredger's battle with the White Wolf. It
was a measureless term in which iniquity had prospered, hope
diminished until its flame guttered, besieged by an evil tempest.
Perhaps many thousands of years had passed in mortal men's
thinking. Perhaps much longer. Then, benign powers had been visible
to the creatures of all worlds and many had thought the Beast no
more than a thorn in their side, others not even acknowledging its
existence. But in their complacency they had underestimated its
power. And when Dredger had stood against the Wolf, even he had
been no match for its terrible strength. In the dark seasons that
had come and gone since then, things had moved and changed. The
ancient magic that had seemed to them invincible, had slowly
crumbled under the growing will of the Wolf. Gradually the
shape-changer eroded away the very heart of that power, the belief
in magic itself, so that worlds finally became grey and prosaic,
their denizens living in a perpetual state of turmoil. Most turned
away from their dreams, disillusioned, until in the end, while the
White Wolf cackled and howled, they had come to the very brink of
self destruction. Only these lands, within this world, retained the
potency of magic and dream. But it was here that the Beast had made
its home, its fortress.

That had all been so long ago,
if indeed time could be reckoned in any meaningful way in this
domain. And still the power of the Wolf grew, until now it was
almost undeniable.

Mo let his mind roam the past,
searching for some tiny spark of hope. He too knew the prophecies.
He was also one of the very few who knew all of the many timeworn
poems and runes, but he was beset by doubt. True enough, the boy
had come, but it was a

boundless undertaking,
their ultimate goal illusory. And the road
was
cruel and dark.

Fair will turn to foul

and foul will turn to fair,

when death lies just ahead

you must meet it there.

The words seemed to echo within
the badgers mind. What did it really mean? Mo's understanding was
greater than most, but there were secrets still denied to him.

When the Wolf comes, no-one is
safe. Not girl, nor boy, nor man or beast. We are all meat to
him.

They encountered a great many
signposts as they journeyed on, some in most unlikely locations, as
if placed there entirely for their benefit. So with the aid of this
peculiar guidance, they were able to maintain a north-westerly
bearing and continued to travel toward Thauma's Ring.

"We draw near to the sacred
place," declared Dredger. "This land was once virtuous, but then
the white dog came and spread the filth of his corruption. Well, I
say that the Beast has made a grave misreckoning. It should have
not allowed me to live. Now I have returned to seek my vengeance."
He looked up at the skies with grim determination. "Mark me, beast,
for I come for you."

"What are we going to do at the
circle?" Tom asked quietly at Mo's side, perturbed at the man's
outburst.

The badger bared his teeth
briefly. "Dredger will not listen to me. I fear he must learn the
truth for himself."

Tom had a bad feeling that
things were not going to fare well for them at Thauma's Ring. And
this unease did not abate as Dredger, seeming now to be almost
possessed by his desire to reach their destination, left his
companions far behind. His stride lengthened as he moved with
purpose along woodland pathways, across small streams and over
rocky embankments.

A stone circle! Tom pondered as
they scrambled along in the wake of the big man. He had seen
standing stones before, monoliths arranged in a ring, or a line,
rising up from lonely fields, often far from cities and towns.
There was definitely something mystical about them, a timeless
power and despite his misgivings he found himself excited by the
prospect of such a spectacle appearing suddenly within a field or
meadow.

Somewhere ahead, Dredger
too thought of the stones.
Now they will
see what power really is. The Beast will be brought to heel.
He was convinced that at Thauma's Ring, the old magic would
speak to him. It was not gone. How could it be? The ancient magic
was not something that lived or died. It was infinite, all
encompassing. Mo was a fool if he believed the Wolf so strong that
it could vanquish power such as that.

"Come on, Jack," Tom called,
oblivious to the warrior's thoughts, but sensing that they were
about to witness a test of the man's convictions. Jack really did
appear to be weary and kept falling further behind as they tried in
vain to catch up with Dredger. But hearing his friend's cry he
stumbled forward and broke into a short trot, coming along beside
Tom and the badger.

"Jack," said Mo, "is something
wrong?"

Looking rather heavy lidded,
the boy shook his head vaguely. "I'm all right," he muttered, "just
a bit tired, that's all."

The old badger fixed him with a
probing gaze. "And is that all?" he asked.

Jack looked away and shrugged
his shoulders. "Sometimes I have bad dreams."

"Dreams," repeated Mo. "Indeed,
this is a land of dreams. A land of magic." He paused, as if
contemplating something. At length he spoke again. "I am sure that
you have noticed that life, in any form, is scarce in these parts.
Save Dredger, we have encountered no other living thing."

"I saw a boy," broke in
Tom.

"And I saw a woman," added
Jack, feeling a mixture of relief and guilt at mentioning it.

The badger wrinkled his nose.
"It seems that you have seen more than I supposed."

Tom wondered if he should tell
them about the girl, but dismissed the idea. After all, she was
only a part of his dreams.

"Maybe we're just imagining
things," Jack offered, perhaps a little too eagerly.

"No," Tom said definitely, "I
saw a boy. It was when I first came, eh...into this place." He
still found it very hard to accept that he really was in an
entirely different world from his own. But he realised that he had
better adjust to it quickly. It was an unpredictable and dangerous
place and he would need his wits about him if they were to have any
hope of surviving. "You must have seen him too, Uncle Mo," he
continued, "it was just before I met you."

"The only boy I saw was you,
Tom."

"Everything is weird in this
place," commented Jack, with a shake of his head.

"You can say that again,"
voiced Tom, smiling glumly at his friend.

For a moment Jack almost felt
like his old self again. It seemed such a long time since they had
climbed the tree and his thoughts were hazy, his memories distant.
Why did he feel so tired all of the time? It was as though
something was inside him, draining him.