The Magic Lands (55 page)

As the boat made contact with
the wall of darkness, Tom experienced a sensation unlike any he had
known before. It was more than just fear. He felt swamped by
despair, trampled down by futility. It was a sense of profound
insecurity and a longing to be warm and safe, protected from the
night. He yearned for the ignorance of youth, but although he could
recall a time when it had given him solace, now it eluded him.

I could be
home now,
he thought with bitterness,
home instead of here. Why have I let myself be
led into this?

"Tom," said a voice close
beside him. He felt a bit queasy, sea-sickness he supposed and
hanging his head over the side of the boat he watched his
reflection, distorted by the lapping waves. "Tom?" someone said
again, a little more concern in the voice.

It was Jack. Good old Jack.

Tom was feeling worse now. Bile
seemed to be building in his throat, his head aching horribly and
it occurred to him then that when all was said and done, all of
this was really Jack's fault. Hadn't it been his friend Jack who
had climbed the tree in the first place? Wasn't he the one who had
led the way? Yes. Good friend Jack had caused all his suffering, he
realised now. He was the one to blame.

"Are you all right, Tom?" Jack
asked, worried by Tom's failure to reply.

Yes,
Tom thought staring at the water,
I'm fine, just fine! But no thanks to you. Do you know
something, Jackie boy, I think you'll be the death of me. Unless,
of course, you die first.
Tom found this idea very
amusing and began to chuckle, a low, dangerous sound and Jack who
had been about to touch him, recoiled, pulling his hand
away.

"What’s wrong?" he questioned
thinking that he should tell Mo, but before he could do so Tom
twisted around and his face was alive with malice.

"Well, Jack," he hissed,
"there's a lot wrong actually, but not with
me
! I'm on top of the world! Why shouldn't I be?
After all, what more could I ask than to be right here with you, my
best, closest friend, my good, good, buddy. There's no place I'd
rather be!" Tom stared at Jack with a hideous grin, exposing the
madness that held captive his mind.

"Tom!" Jack shouted, "fight it!
You have to fight it!"

But it wasn't even Tom anymore.
It was a stranger who smiled with murder on his mind and spoke with
the voice of hatred. "I'm going to rip out your heart, good buddy,"
Tom rasped as he edged toward Jack, his fingers reaching for the
other boy. "I'm going to do it with my bare hands!"

"Listen to me!" a powerful
voice abruptly rang out. "Listen...to me." It was Mo, his
expression neutral, eyes fixed steadily on Tom. The boy's body
shuddered, his muscles convulsing. It was as though something were
inside him, beneath his skin.

"What's happening?" Jack
whispered, terror choking him, his words lost as Tom began to laugh
ferociously, blank eyes glowering.

"He who would challenge me,"
Tom's voice bellowed, "shall pay with more than flesh and
bone."

"Your place is not here," Mo
said flatly.

"You are weak!" screamed Tom,
his voice strangely high-pitched. "Do not hinder me, for you too
can be taken."

"NO!" boomed Mo, the simple
word seemingly amplified a hundred fold, shaking the very air
around them, and Jack could only watch, horrified, as the fierce
exchange between the man and what had moments before been his
friend continued, hardly able to believe how suddenly Tom had been
transformed. Was it so easy for the Wolf? But then, if anyone could
answer that, it was him, for he knew all too well how the Beast was
able to slip effortlessly into your mind any time it wished, to
manipulate everything you thought and felt.

"Leave the boy!" Mo commanded,
"we shall not let you have him."

"I am within him now," replied
Tom, spitting viciously at Jack who had taken a step toward him and
now fearfully backed away. "Which of you can deny me my claim?"

"
WE
deny you!" called a new voice, no longer that
of Mo. "
WE
compel you to be
gone!"

Tom cackled, his eyes rolling
upward. "Perhaps if you offer me something of value I could be
persuaded to give up the child."

"
WE
offer nothing," responded the voice, louder
than anything else, Jack's head ringing with the sound.

Giggling uncontrollably, Tom
sprang to his feet and stretched out his arms. "YOU LOSE!" he
shrieked. But as he made to leap from the craft into the ebony
depths below, Jack thrust himself forward, his body colliding
heavily with the other boy's, knocking him back down into the boat.
Clamping his arms tightly around Tom, Jack held him fast.

"Tom," he pleaded, as his
friend thrashed wildly to escape from his grip, "please don't!"

Tom struggled desperately,
snarling and kicking, lashing out with hands hooked into claws, but
Jack still refused to let go, hanging on for all he was worth, and
then, all at once, the body became limp, crushing Jack as it
slumped against him.

"Tom!" Jack cried out thinking
the worst, fear taking hold of him, but after only a few moments,
Tom's eyes fluttered open and he managed to support himself.

"I feel sick," he said weakly,
gazing at his friend in confusion. Jack could not speak. He was too
relieved for words to ever convey how he felt. "Was it you that
called me back?" Tom asked, still feeling groggy. Jack gave a quick
shake of the head. "Where did it come from then?"

"From a joining of souls," Mo
answered, bending down to help them up.

TRICKS AND TREATS

"The Wolf came to take Tom,"
said Mo, his voice pitched low. "It hoped to end things here. The
Beast will be most displeased that it did not succeed to say the
least. But one thing is certain. Sooner or later it will try
again.”

"But we stopped it," Jack
stressed, "we were strong enough to beat it."

"This time, yes," the man
conceded, "each of us, in our own way, resisted the Wolf's
influence. But next time, we may be separated again or alone, and
although the Beast was arrogant to think it could take Tom when we
were all together, be sure it will not make the same mistake twice.
It is no fool. It will have learnt its lesson well."

Tom had been listening
carefully, although his eyes never left the bank of dark mist that
surrounded them. "You say we were strong," he murmured, "but I
didn't even put up a fight. The Wolf got inside me as if I wasn't
even there. One second I was me, the next I would have done
anything it told me to. How can we ever hope to beat it? We were
stupid to ever think we could."

Dredger, who had not seemed to
be paying any attention to the conversation, suddenly smiled and
looked over at the boy. "It is not the task of children to do
battle with the Beast," he uttered. "A warrior must be the one to
bring the white dog down."

"Our friend here has his own
beliefs," Mo commented, indicating the warrior with a nod of his
head, "but I do not necessarily share them." This was met by a
muted chuckle from Dredger, but the fair-haired man continued. "All
of us can refuse the Beast when it comes knocking at our door. You
may not realise it, Tom, but you did fight against it, you fought
with all your will, and with help, you succeeded."

Tom looked at him dubiously,
knowing that he had been easy prey for their enemy. He felt so
exposed now, vulnerable and weak and the claustrophobic atmosphere
of the vaporous, black screen instilled in him an emptiness that
subdued all hope.

"What did you mean about
joining souls?" Jack queried; Tom had turned away again, was only
vaguely listening now.

Mo threw a strange expression
at the other man, one that confused Jack a great deal as it seemed
to betray an uneasiness that bordered on fear. "We are both very
old," he replied after a moment, "older than you can imagine, and
we are joined by an ancient bond. And though there are differences
between us, we are linked in a way which transcends mortal
understanding. And so we were able to stand together against the
Beast as one."

"So why can't you just gang up
on the Wolf then?" Jack wanted to know, suddenly seeing a way to
end their ordeal, "surely the two of you together can beat it?"

Mo shook his head quickly. "No,
that is not possible. We were strong enough to repel its assault,
and I should remind you that you played your own, not insignificant
part in that, Jack. But events have come too far along the road of
bitterness for such a simple show of force to defeat the White
Wolf. Alas, it will take more than that, far more."

"Perhaps you would balk at
facing up to the Beast, Mo," Dredger said, eyeing the other man
with a flinty glare, "but I am only too eager for such an
encounter. Never underestimate my strength, for I have been through
a great change since my journey to Hydan, the lost. Now I possess
the power to depose the Wolf, and I am beginning to wonder if each
of you are no more than excess baggage, needless accessories,
slowing me down.”

Mo gazed steadily at the
warrior, his expression unreadable. "Perchance you have designs on
the Beast’s throne yourself?"

There was no immediate response
from Dredger. He only stared at Mo, his mouth tight. Finally, he
said quietly. "I do not look beyond the fall of Wolf. That is my
only concern. And I shall see it through until the end. No-one will
bar me, not you, nor these children, nor a rank beast. I will
fulfil my destiny, whatever the cost."

"And what if your humanity is
the price you must pay?" Mo asked evenly. "What then?"

"My humanity, as you so
quaintly put it, is the beast that slumbers within my soul."
Dredger regarded the other man with a thoughtful, sly gaze. "Now
that we have joined, you more than any other know that. And when it
awakens, all shall acknowledge its true power. Then the Wolf will
cower and slink into the shadows of insignificance."

After several long moments, Mo
nodded with grim finality. "So be it. Destiny takes us where it
must. And no-one can stand in its indomitable way."

They all remained quiet after
this, continuing to drift on through the blackness, unable to see
anything around them, certain that they still floated upon the
water only because they heard it and felt the familiar motion of
their craft. The stillness of the void weighed heavily upon them,
sapping their spirits by slow degrees, turning their thoughts dark
and perilous and of all of them Jack suffered the most, past events
tormenting him, dead faces haunting the shadows. Eventually, it
reached the point where he could take no more and the only way he
could think of to end the gloom that was upon him was to end the
silence.

"Well, I'm just glad…" he
began, attempting to say something uplifting, but he did not
finish. Without any warning, the boat was jolted violently forward,
forced through the water at tremendous speed, and hurled backward
by this sudden momentum Jack cracked his head on hard wood. As
consciousness faded from him, he dimly recognised an odd sensation,
as if he were falling.

They had reached the edge of
the world.

A hallucination perhaps. Or
merely another dream.

Jack was swimming in an inky
sea, his arms and legs flailing desperately, fighting to stay
afloat.

"You must drown."

He heard the words at his ear
but could not turn his head to see if someone was there with him.
The water pressed against his body, pushing to enter him. Gulping
for breath, he battled to stay above the black waves, but it was
useless; the sea was dragging him down.

"Into the deep," sighed the
voice.

Foul water filled his nose now,
making him cough and splutter, trying to force its way into his
mouth. Then he was completely submerged and down he went, dropping
like a stone, everything a blur before his eyes.

Suddenly, with a soft thump he
hit the sea-bed and became quite still.

"All alone now," the voice told
him, emotionless, as cold as the water and Jack closed his eyes,
afraid to look, knowing that it would soon fill his lungs, somehow
imagining that he could shut it all out if he only kept his eyes
tightly closed.

Death by drowning. It had
always been something that scared him and now fate had played a
sweet trick and given him to the water, another gift for the ocean
depths.

Now his air was gone, the last
precious breath used up and his lungs burned as if on fire, but
though the water had invaded his mouth and his nose, still it did
not violate the rest of his body, something keeping it at bay.

"You are the chosen," the voice
at his ear informed him, "see how you cannot die."

But Jack knew that it was the
Wolf, just another of its twisted games. "No!" he shouted and then
it seemed as if all the sea flowed into him, saturating his body,
the pressure inside him becoming intolerable. And as his brain
began to accept death as inevitable, as he thought how easy it
would be to give himself up to the sea, a bass thud sounded in his
head, like the beating of a drum, or perhaps the dying pulse of his
heart.

Now I will know what death
really is.

His body grew limp as the
thudding increased steadily until it hammered ruthlessly inside his
skull, threatening to shatter his mind and his last conscious
thought was that he would be pleased to die, that he would welcome
it, if only that terrible noise would stop.

Then, quite abruptly, the sound
did cease and with it, the sensation of drowning.