The Magic Lands (9 page)

"Eh, yes," replied Tom,
wondering how the man could have possibly known.

"It will show how to reach The
Circle from here," Dredger said, holding out his hand. "Give it to
me."

Suddenly Tom became reluctant
to give it up. Why should he let this stranger take the map from
him? He looked to Jack and then to the badger but neither
spoke.

"Come boy," pressed Dredger,
"there is much to be done."

Very slowly Tom put his hand
inside his shirt and drew out the parchment.

"There!" cried the tall man,
snatching the map from him and studying it with unmistakable
reverence. "And you say that the old magic is gone." He glared at
Mo with contempt.

Watching the man pore over the
map, greedily taking in the information recorded there, Tom decided
that as soon as he got it back he would make sure that he never
parted with it again, whatever the circumstances. He felt strangely
possessive about it and anyway, there was something about this man,
Dredger, that he didn't like.

After a good deal of studying
and thought, Dredger finally handed the parchment back to Tom. "We
must travel north-west," he reported with confidence.

"And what exactly is this
circle anyway?" spoke up Jack, not liking their new found friend
any more than Tom and regaining some of his old spirit.

Dredger gave the boy a menacing
glare. "Do not question me, boy," he snarled. "Just do as you are
bid."

Tom didn't like any of this. He
felt uncomfortable in the big man's company and Jack, now
red-faced, was undoubtedly very angry and rightly so.

"I think it’s best if we do as
Dredger says," interjected Mo, seeing that there would be trouble
if he did not intercede, "there may be valuable information gained
by a visit to the ancient stone circle. It has always been a holy
place."

"All right," agreed Tom,
deciding that he could at least trust the badger.

Jack stared at his friend but
didn't say anything and so, with no further debate, they set off
away from the mirrored archway. Dredger led the way, taking up the
position without being asked and they followed a wooden signpost,
conveniently located just over a nearby verge, ready to guide them
on their journey.

Somewhere, not so very far
away, a woman dressed all in white stood at the centre of a field
of red poppies. Looking to the south and then the north she began
to walk through the flowers, crushing them beneath her bare feet as
she went. Suddenly she began to laugh and the sound was like a wild
animal’s cry.

Almost as if a lever had been
pulled, the darkness came.

"I thought it would be daylight
forever," remarked Tom, although now it had arrived, he didn't
actually relish the prospect of the night.

"Whether it is dark or light,"
stated Dredger coolly, "it makes little difference. Each has its
own advantages and disadvantages. Just keep to my path and you will
be safe enough."

Tom found these words less than
encouraging and he threw a quick glance in the badger's direction
looking for a response, but Mo's expression did not alter. The
animal seemed oddly resigned. But to what, Tom wasn't sure.

"When can we rest?" Tom asked
half-heartedly after a few minutes more, expecting Dredger to mock
the suggestion, but to his surprise the man thought the idea a good
one.

"Soon," he said with certainty,
"we must rest before we reach our goal. We will find a place to
make camp."

Shortly afterward they were
settled down under the cover of several large beech trees, Dredger
having decided that the surrounding foliage would provide adequate
cover.

What if the
Wolf comes?
whispered a voice in Tom's head and then
he remembered the beautiful girl who had called herself little Bo
Peep. And even though he knew he had only ever seen her in his
dreams, something made him sure that she was more than just his
imagination. He wished he could see her again. Once more he found
himself confused and unsure. Could a dream girl be real? Or was he
just completely mad? After all that had happened, that didn’t seem
so unlikely.

But as Mo had said, there
were no rules here.
Anything
goes
, Tom thought, but the notion disturbed him
vaguely.
Who can you trust when anything
goes?

"Take heed," announced Dredger,
ending Tom's reflections, "I will keep watch while you sleep and
then Mo will take over whilst I rest."

"When do I take my turn?"
enquired Jack, ready to do his bit.

Dredger regarded the boy with
distaste. "Do not be a fool, boy. You are not fit to stand guard.
The Wolf would eat you and spit out your bones before you could
even utter a sound."

Jack glowered at the man and
was just about to tell him exactly what he thought of him, when Mo
interrupted. "Thank you for volunteering, Jack, but Dredger and I
can manage. You need more rest than we do, I think." The badger
gave him a reassuring look and Jack decided, a little begrudgingly,
to remain silent.

Going over to where Tom sat
leaning against the trunk of one of the beech trees, Jack gave a
moody look in Dredger's direction before whispering to his friend.
"I don't like him," he said, nodding sideways at the man who now
stood like some pompous stone statue, one hand behind his back,
staring out into the night.

"I know," replied Tom.

"It shows then?" joked the
other boy.

Tom laughed and put his hand
over his mouth to suppress the sound. They both glanced briefly at
Dredger but he stood quite still, obviously in his on-guard
position.

"What happened back there, you
know at the archway?" Jack asked after a moment.

Tom shrugged. "I was going to
ask you the same thing."

"I don’t know about you, but I
just don’t get any of this," Jack admitted, "one second we were
looking at the mirror, the next this Dredger is standing there.
Where did he come from?"

"Didn't you see anything?" Tom
questioned, more puzzled than before.

"It just seemed to happen all
at once," Jack muttered. "And it gave me a splitting headache!"

"Sometimes I think we're both
dreaming," Tom said.

"Great minds dream alike!" his
friend offered with a grin.

"I really am sleepy," murmured
Tom, deciding he would tell Jack his version of events at the
archway after they had rested. He was really just too tired to go
into it now. They both lay down on the soft earth, their hands
behind their heads. Tom wasn't sure how long they had been
travelling and with the day and night having no set pattern it was
impossible to keep accurate time. It was as Mo said, time was not
the same here, this world not subject to Man's laws. Gazing over at
the old badger, Tom quite suddenly felt an unexpected sadness
befall him. It was strange, how they had come to depend on the
animal so quickly. But Tom trusted him and was glad they had at
least one friend in this alien world.

Oh Uncle Ira, where are you?
Are you in the garden? Are you searching for us?

Tom turned toward his friend,
who now lay with his eyes half closed awaiting sleeps arrival,
ready to be swept away on the tide of dreams. "How long do you
think night lasts here?" Jack asked softly.

Tom let his eyes find the
shadowy sky through the branches of the trees above them.

There are no stars. No sun or
moon.

"Go to sleep," he said softly
and saw that Jack already had. Tom shut his own eyes and allowed
his mind to drift wherever it wished. Across dark lands and through
pale skies.

He was in an orchard. An apple
orchard.

He ran from tree to tree
without a care in the world. Apples lay all around him on the
ground, red and ripe, ready to be eaten.

Try
one
, said his mind.

He slowed to a trot and waded
through some long grass and then picked up an apple from the foot
of one of the trees, taking a big deep bite. The juice ran over his
lips and down onto his chin and he felt better than he had in a
very long time. The fruit tasted cool and sweet.

Tom glanced upward and
searched the boughs of the tree towering above him.
Listen
, spoke his mind,
I know something you don't know.

There's someone in that
tree!

Tom looked carefully, scanning
the foliage but couldn't see anything. Someone in the tree? He
craned his neck, peering through the leaves.

Sure enough, up in the very
highest branches there was a slender form, a girl with long golden
hair.

"Hello," Tom called up to
her.

"Hello," she cried back,
waving.

"I'm Tom,"

"My name's Lisa," she said,
smiling down at him. "Are you coming up?"

He began to climb, eagerly
grasping branches, hauling himself through the leaves.

"The fruit is juicy and ripe up
here," Lisa called down, "sweet as sugar and red as blood."

Tom squinted up at her and
could see her long hair glistening in the daylight. She was
certainly as pretty as they come. He climbed faster.

"Tom, Tom, the piper's son,
stole a sheep and away he run," sang the girl above him, swinging
her legs.

That's not
right,
thought Tom as he grabbed hold of a sturdy
bough, lifting himself forward.

"Come and get me, Tom," called
Lisa with a giggle.

Tom smiled. "I'm coming," he
grunted.

At last he reached the very top
of the apple tree and sat down on a large forked branch. All about
him, ripe apples hung invitingly, ready to be picked.

"Take one, Tom," said Lisa at
his side. Tom leant over and took a firm hold on the biggest and
reddest apple he could see. As he did so, his arm brushed against
the girl's leg and he felt the soft pressure of her thigh beneath
her skirt. He looked at her and she

returned his gaze with a small
smile that made him feel dizzy. "Take a bite," she said.

Tom took a big mouthful,
letting his teeth sink deep into the fruit, juice filling his
mouth. For a moment he closed his eyes and wished he could stay
there with her forever.

But the apple was sour.

Tom opened his eyes with a
start, feeling sick. Putting his hand to his mouth, he spat the
apple out, almost gagging and when he looked down at the remains he
knew he was going to vomit.

Maggots!

He still held the apple in his
other hand and there were more of the things, crawling, squirming
out of the rotten fruit. Sickened, he threw it to the ground.

He glanced over at Lisa to see
if she was feeling sick too. But the girl only smiled.

"Take a bite," she whispered
and winked at him.

Then she was gone.

In the dream that Jack was
having, he was not the Jack that Tom knew.

He was in an old house. He knew
that it was old because the furniture was antique looking, the
entire place decorated with things he had come to associate with
the past. And the clothes he wore were old fashioned too, making
him feel oddly at home.

Outside there was a deep
fog.
I have to go out
, he
thought suddenly and got up out of the armchair where he had been
sitting so comfortably. An open fire crackled in the hearth and he
pulled the collar of his jacket closer about him, ready to face the
evening gloom. Picking up a black bag, he left the house and walked
along a driveway before

entering a narrow fog-bound
lane. The street lamps hardly cut through its veiled heart and Jack
could not see more than a few feet in front of him. Somewhere far
off someone laughed, a woman's laugh he thought.

He turned a corner and went
quickly along a dim back alley. There were many such back streets
in this part of the city. He walked with purpose, his footsteps
echoing in the night. He knew what he must do.

A woman dressed all in white
awaited him in the shadows of a doorway. Coming close beside her,
Jack took her hand, its gentle pressure reassuring. Smiling, she
nodded slightly and together they began to walk back the way he had
come. They did not speak, they had no need, both understanding what
was to take place. Jack sensed that the time was close at hand
now.

The woman regarded him
with a curious gaze and Jack opened the black bag.
I think this is a dream
, began a
spectral voice within.
I think this is all
a dream.

Suddenly a woman screamed
somewhere close by, but Jack didn't really care. He found himself
running frantically along dank alleyways, through swirling fog,
breathless but unafraid. Behind him a shrill whistle began to blow.
Voices shouted and there was screaming, but it didn't matter.

He stopped running, trying to
catch his breath. "You did it," someone said at his shoulder. Jack
turned and saw the woman dressed in white.

He looked at her, something he
knew must be love aching in his heart. They way he felt went far
beyond anything he had ever imagined he could feel.

"This is just the beginning,"
she told him, smiling again, reminding Jack of his mother when he
had been very good.

Voices rang out again, coming
closer. Jack listened, but everything was all right now. He had
completed his task. He was safe.

"Another murder! The Ripper
strikes again!" cried a voice from out of the night, from out of
the fog.

"You're a very good boy, Jack,"
said the woman and kissed his cheek.

"I know," Jack whispered, as a
tear rolled gently down his face.

WHITE MAGIC

"It’s called Thauma's Ring," Mo
said in answer to Tom’s question. They were travelling north-west,
as instructed by Dredger, the light having returned whilst they
slept. Half remembered dreams troubled Tom, but he pushed them
aside, his eagerness to learn more about their destination
dominating his thoughts. The big man led the way with a confident
stride, his mind fixed on the goal he had set for them.