The Magic Lands (69 page)

"I knew you would come," he
said, watching her eyes dance, reflecting light as if they were
crystals of blue ice.

"I had to," she conceded,
smiling back at him.

"Jack's dead," Tom announced,
almost casually.

"I know," she said, looking
down as she spoke, her expression veiled.

"And the big, bad Wolf will be
here soon," he remarked, beginning to feel strange inside, his eyes
watering.

"Yes, He's almost here," Lisa
agreed.

"Almost," Tom echoed.

"And then..." the girl
said.

"It all ends," he finished. For
a moment they fell silent. Tom looked out across the vast
emptiness, searching for the horizon, but the sky and the land were
one.

"We could go now," Lisa urged
him, "there's still time."

Shaking his head and gazing up
at her, Tom managed a smile. "I don't think so. My time's up and I
have an appointment to keep."

"With death?" she asked in a
matter-of-fact way.

"No," Tom assured her, "with
love."

"And do you
love
me?"

"Who are you?" Tom asked.

With tears in her blue eyes,
Lisa shook her head. "Don't you know by now?"

Tom regarded her with an
intensity that made her tremble. "I thought you might be the Wolf,"
he said mildly. “But you’re not. Tell me, what are you,
really?"

As her tears touched her full
lips and trickled into her mouth, the girl's face began to flicker
and dissolve. "I'm your heart's desire, Tom," he heard her say as
she diminished, her body melting away. "No more, no less. Yours and
yours alone. Please don't send me away. Come with me, to where
you'll always be safe."

Closing his eyes, Tom thought
of Jack nailed to the iron cross, head slumped to one side, a
lifeless shell that had once been his friend. Anything to shut out
Lisa's face, tears falling uncontrollably as she faded, nothing
remaining to show that she had ever been.

Just another dream. Just one
more lost dream.

And somewhere, the White Wolf
was laughing.

THE PARTING OF THE SEA

When Mo and Dredger came upon
Tom, the boy lost within his own sorrow, it was not a tree of white
blossom that enshrouded him. To their eyes, it was the Wolf that
Tom nestled against, entirely unaware of the presence of the Beast.
Instead of the heavy boughs of the tree, Mo saw two enormous,
taloned hands, seeming to caress Tom with tenderness. And gazing up
into the golden eyes of their enemy, he saw amusement and contempt
as the Wolf watched them approach, a playful smile pulling at the
corners of its mouth.

"I shall keep him safe and
warm," the White Wolf proclaimed, its voice hushed, "I shall
comfort him in his time of need."

After a moment's hesitation,
Dredger stepped forward, not as a man who was certain of his
actions, but reluctantly, as if it were a duty he was honour-bound
to perform. "Release the boy," he bellowed with all the command he
could manage, the blade that Tom had rejected now held
threateningly in his own hand.

The Beast howled, a thunderous
sound and glowered at the man. "Ah yes," it said with a measure of
disdain, "you are the Second Beast, are you not? The stuff of
legend!"

Taking another step forward,
Dredger stared into the creature's bright eyes. "I have become a
beast amongst men, to do battle with you on your own terms."

The Wolf eyed the warrior with
interest. "I see a change has come over you. That cannot be denied.
But have you not understood that all men are beasts, starved of
morality, only too willing to walk with me."

"I reject you!" Dredger cried,
a slight quiver in his voice, though his sword-arm remained
firm.

For a moment, the Wolf's
eyes became empty, the pupils contracting till they were tiny black
pinpricks. Then a rumbling began, vociferous laughter vented in a
powerful snarl. "You are a fool, a misguided fool! Don't you
understand anything, don't you realise that you have reached the
threshold of a new era for both men
and
beasts. I offer you a golden opportunity.
See how it glitters and sparkles, a treasure for you to claim. Do
not let the moment of your consummation pass you by. Realise your
potential, Beast of Man. I offer you the future."

Dredger appeared confused by
this for several seconds, but then a growl escaped his lips and he
raised his sword toward the Wolf. "Do not waste your empty words on
me," he challenged. "The time for rhetoric has long passed. Let us
finish this now, one way or the other."

The Beast peered down at him,
not with rage or hatred, but with an expression of sympathy.
"Consider for a moment, if you will, the events that have brought
you to this meeting. You have not fared well. I feel certain that
you would not dispute this. I have defeated you before, and you
know full well in your heart, that if you were to stand against me
now, the outcome would be no different. And yet it does not have to
be that way, not for you. That would be a needless waste. It would
give me no pleasure to see you humbled at my feet. I would prefer
to meet you at the table of negotiation rather than on the
battleground, where we can reach a conclusion that will be of
mutual benefit to us both."

"There could never be any
common ground between you and I," Dredger spat, but the Wolf only
shook its head.

"I think you should hear
me out, I really do." The warrior looked up at the huge creature,
uncertainty in his eyes, but he did not speak again. "This is the
way it could be," began the Beast. "I shall make the truth clear to
you. I
could
stand down. Yes,
it could be done, if there was one worthy to rule in my place. And
we both know that you and you alone hold the power required to
succeed me. I am old, older than the wind, and I have grown tired,
so very tired." There was genuine regret and weariness in the voice
of the Wolf. "You see, this is the destiny we have all striven so
rigorously to fulfil. The dominion of Mankind was always intended
to be governed by one of its own. A prince among men, indeed! But a
prince of darkness, not light, for that is the only power capable
of ruling such a barbarous and petulant race. I know that you have
long desired to set things to rights, and now I give you that
chance. Once your inauguration is complete, you shall be in a
position to do as you see fit."

Within Dredger a savage
force had begun to seethe, his mind recoiling beneath its fearful
strength. He managed to peer up at the Wolf, wondrous visions
assaulting his senses that told of a new world, a better world, for
he
was
the Second Beast, yet
not without a conscience, not without feeling. Even if the power
within his soul was dark and unruly, could he not bend it to his
will?

"Why should I believe you?" he
asked at length, barely able to utter the words, the forces that
worked within him making it increasingly difficult for him to
maintain rational thought.

"That is a fair question,"
acknowledged the Beast, "a just question. And I shall answer it
honestly, as it deserves. I give you my bond that if you take up my
crown, I will step aside. You have my solemn promise."

Dredger did not speak, he could
not speak. There was a rush of indomitable energy that seemed to
pulse through his veins, carried with his blood, and Dredger knew
at last the true power that resided within him. "I accept...your
offer," he murmured in a voice low and hoarse.

The Wolf nodded as if it had
never expected any other answer. "That is well. It is a wise
choice. But there is one small detail, one last symbolic act to
seal our covenant. In a way, it is merely the setting aside of the
old to make way for the new, and with this in mind, I must ask you
to make a final sacrifice to prove that you have accepted, without
doubt, the office that has been afforded you." The White Wolf
stretched out one long, taloned finger and pointed beyond the
warrior to where Mo had been looking on in silence. "There," it
said, "there is the spoiler. The half-one must be sacrificed if you
are to take your rightful place. Search your heart and you will
surely recognise that any loyalty that you feel toward one such as
he, is woefully misplaced. You owe him nothing."

Dredger struggled against
the confusion that was upon him, not sure what he should do or say,
but the power that now bristled and surged deep inside him forced a
reply to his lips. "Why should I need to do as you ask. What makes
you so certain that I cannot
take
what you have offered?"

The Beast's face became
dark, a shadow falling over them all. "In the deepest places of
your soul, you know you cannot. Do not be a fool, not now. Do not
deceive yourself. You must understand that without my guidance you
could never hope to control the power that even now presses for
release. It would destroy you in a moment without my support.
Accept my counsel and make a new beginning. The half-one
must
die. It will be a symbol of the
dawning of the new age of Man, beneath the banner of the Second
Beast, the rightful heir to the dark throne."

The truth of the Beast's words
bit deep into the warrior's heart and he saw with absolute clarity
the choice he had to make. For a long moment he stood there in
silence, absolutely still, staring at the blade in his hand, then,
very slowly he turned to face Mo and as their eyes met the
warrior's countenance might have been carved from stone, his
expression grim and resolute, yet the other man held his gaze
steadily and did not falter.

Even when Dredger approached
him, Mo did not stir, allowing his friend to come to him, until
they were face to face. No words passed between them, no excuses or
regrets, no arguments or justification, nothing at all. They merely
exchanged a final look, more powerful than anything that could be
said, and then, as if giving his consent, Mo bowed his head,
exposing his neck to the steel.

Clasping the hilt of his sword
in both hands, Dredger raised the blade against the blanched sky,
the certainty of death gleaming from its razor sharp edge, the pale
flame of desire spreading along its length and burning in the
warrior's eyes. Lifted high, it wavered a few brief seconds in
which it seemed it might not fall, but this moment of hesitation
was fleeting and with a rending cry spilling from his lips, Dredger
brought the sword down.

Blood flowed, a trickle of red
against the white skin, yet the covenant had not been fulfilled.
For even as the blow had struck, the fire that surrounded the blade
had faded and the warrior's eyes had grown dark, alive now only
with the light of understanding. The honed steel rested delicately
on the back of Mo's neck and looking at it, watching the blood that
dribbled from the shallow wound it had made, realising just how
close he had come to taking the life of his friend, with a moan of
anguish, Dredger raised the sword once more, to hurl it from him
with all his strength.

From somewhere close by, there
came a growl of utter scorn. "I should have known better than to
believe in you," spat the Wolf. "Now there is only one path left
open to us and we have no choice but to take it. Oblivion waits for
you, for the weak and the gutless, and you have no-one to blame for
your fate but yourself." The Beast's tirade ended in a shout, its
voice bellowing to the heavens, and as if a great door had opened
overhead, the sky suddenly ruptured with a deafening roar, and a
thick, black cloud came rolling through the jagged divide, an army
of darkness descending upon the small figures below. On it came,
spiralling downward, a massive, unnatural tornado, and as Mo lifted
his head to look, he saw that a host of entangled forms were
embodied within the dark mass, the contorted faces of lost souls
leering at him as they came hurtling down to engulf he and
Dredger.

And even more terrible than
this, among the twisted beings entwined amidst that stygian cloud,
arms and legs wrapped together in a perverted embrace, there were
many faces that were known to him.

Tom was seated in an old,
comfortable armchair, an exquisitely embroidered pattern of red
roses, their sharp thorns incredibly realistic, decorating the soft
material. On a small redwood table before him, a silver tray had
been placed holding a selection of delicious looking cakes and
succulent pastries. Their wonderful aromas overpowered him and made
his mouth water.

Directly opposite him,
reclining in an identical chair, a dark-haired man studied Tom with
a kindly, patient gaze. "Won't you have one?" he proposed, nodding
toward the cakes.

"Thank you," Tom said, leaning
forward to claim a buttered scone, piled high with jam and
cream.

"Take a big bite," the man
encouraged, and without a moment's hesitation, Tom did just that,
eagerly cramming the pastry into his mouth, large dollops of red
jam spilling onto his chin. With his mouth full, he tried to smile,
his eyes never leaving the face of his companion, who watched him
eat with obvious satisfaction.

"Now," started the man,
clasping his hands together and resting his chin upon them. "Shall
we have that little talk, it's long overdue. I've been meaning to
sit down with you for quite some time now, but you know how it is,
always some last minute thing to attend to, unexpected turn of
events and such like. There has been a great deal of unfinished
business to take care of and we seem to have been kept apart." The
man paused as if this had some special meaning, but if it did, it
was lost on Tom. "Still, never mind, we're here now, just the two
of us, with nothing to disturb us."

Tom gave an understanding nod
and wolfed down the last mouthful of his scone.