Behind the Sorcerer's Cloak
BOOK FOUR
THE SUMMER OF MAGIC QUARTET
___________________________________
BEHIND THE
SORCERER’S CLOAK
ANDREA SPALDING
ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS
Text copyright © 2006 Brandywine Enterprises BC Ltd.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Spalding, Andrea
Behind the sorcerer’s cloak / Andrea Spalding.
(The summer of magic quartet ; bk. 4)
ISBN 1-55143-627-2
I. Title. II. Series: Spalding, Andrea. Summer of magic quartet; bk. 4.
PS8587.P213B43 2006 jC813’.54
C2006-903256-4
First published in the United States, 2006
Library of Congress Control Number: 2006928467
Summary: In Book Four of The Summer of Magic Quartet, the Dark Being is poised to conquer Earth and after that, the Universe. Only the four Magic Children can restore the balance between Light and Dark.
Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.
Orca Book Publishers
PO Box 5626, Station B
Victoria, BC Canada
V8R 6S4
Orca Book Publishers
PO Box 468
Custer, WA USA
98240-0468
Cover and interior images by Martin Springett
Typeset and design by Christine Toller
www.orcabook.com
Printed and bound in Canada
09 08 07 06 • 5 4 3 2 1
For Graham and Nina, whose friendship has spanned my lifetime.
Thank you for sharing the mystical places of Mann.
Andrea Spalding
A talisman to hone the mind,
A circlet old to hold and bind,
A staff to smite with hidden might,
Beads to link and hold the light.
Note: In the text I use the following as a spell: Manannan Beg Mac y Leir Mie goll magh as ny share goll stiagh. This line translates as “Manannan Beg Mac y Leir, give safe journey out and a better journey home.” These words are the first two lines of the traditional Manx Fisherman’s prayer asking Manannan for a safe sea journey. The translation by Fenella Bazin is found in her book Ree ny Marrey: Songs of the Isle of Man and used with permission.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE A Stirring in the Mists of Time
CHAPTER TWO Stirrings of Earth Magic
CHAPTER THREE A Broken Thread
CHAPTER FOUR Island Magic
CHAPTER FIVE A Circling of Shades
CHAPTER SIX Magical Secrets
CHAPTER SEVEN Friends and Enemies
CHAPTER EIGHT The Pagan Lady
CHAPTER NINE A Maze of Mindspeak
CHAPTER TEN Light and Dark
Epilogue
Glossary
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
CHAPTER ONE
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A STIRRING IN THE MISTS OF TIME
Sinister disturbances roused the sorcerer Manannan from sleep.
He tilted his head to listen.
Ripples of sound echoed through the Mists of Time. He must heed them. Manannan shook off sleep and stumbled to the summit of his mountain home, South Barrule.
Night mist billowed around him, cloaking, blanketing. It concealed the view. Mist was his to command. He was its Keeper. In return the mist was his cloak of safety, the means by which he hid his island kingdom from unfriendly eyes. Manannan spread wide his arms and slowly raised them.
The mist obeyed his command. It swirled and lifted, though tendrils teased him by covering his eyes.
Manannan chuckled and brushed them away. “I am the Sorcerer Manannan. I am found in the mist and the rain, and you must answer to me.” The threads dissolved and the Island of Mann spread below, washed in the clear starlight of pre-dawn.
It was a small kingdom for such a powerful mage. From his heather-clad mountain, almost the entire island could be seen. But size was of no account. Here worlds met. Magic and humans lived side by side. Manannan’s kingdom was the center of Earth Magic: the place chosen by the Sleeper.
Manannan’s eyes raked the scene.
Everything slept.
Manannan turned his attention to the magical heart of his kingdom, the castle on tiny Pheric’s Isle lying off his western shore.
Starlight threw the ruined castle walls into sharp relief. They surrounded the tiny isle like a curtain, protecting the tall Round Tower rising in the center.
Nothing stirred.
Manannan probed deep into the heart of the Round Tower. There, layer upon layer of magic webbed around secrets forgotten by humans.
He relaxed. The webs of magic on Pheric’s Isle remained intact. Both Tower and Sleeper slept undisturbed.
Manannan bowed to the universe in a gesture of thanks.
Whatever the disturbance in the Mists of Time, all seemed well on Mann.
He was mistaken. The ripples had roused the Moddy Dhoo.
The feared Black Dog lay awake beneath the castle gatehouse. Its red eyes pierced the darkness. The Moddy Dhoo sensed what Manannan couldn’t. The Sleeper was under threat.
The new day dawned, but all was not well across the Irish Sea in the city of Glastonbury, in the heart of England.
Three children were trying not to panic.
Seven-year-old Chantel struggled with tears. Her brother, Adam, was missing.
“What are we going to do? How can we get Adam back when we don’t even know where he is?” Chantel’s voice shook. Fresh tears trickled down her cheeks as she looked up at the glum faces of her two older cousins. “We can’t ask anyone for help. N–no one will believe he’s vanished through a magic portal.” She dropped the piece of toast she was holding and buried her head in her hands.
Her cousins, Holly and Owen, looked for support across the breakfast table. Their friend and neighbor, Mr. Smythe, was the only adult who knew of their adventures.
Mr. Smythe looked drawn and gray. He shrugged helplessly as he patted Chantel’s shoulder.
“This Magic is beyond me. I—I don’t know how to help. Our best plan is to wait for the Wise Ones. Trust that Myrddin will bring Adam back.”
“That’s what we’re doing,” said Owen bitterly. “But it’s taking forever.”
Three times Holly and Owen and their Canadian cousins Chantel and Adam had helped Myrddin and two other magical beings, the Wise Ones, outwit a shadowy figure known as the Dark Being.
The first two adventures had been successful.
Chantel had helped Equus, the Great White Horse, find his talisman.
Owen had helped Ava, the spectacular Hawkwoman, regain her circlet.
The third adventure, when Adam was to help Myrddin regain his staff, had ended in disaster.
“Everything started so well,” moaned Holly. “Adam was brilliant at finding his way through the Spiral Labyrinth and unlocking the entrance into Glastonbury Tor.”
“And it was Adam who released Myrddin’s staff from its hiding place in the Crystal Cave,” agreed Owen. “He was fantastic. If only he
’d not grabbed Zorianna’s cloak when she pinched the staff from Myrddin. That was really daft.”
“No, it wasn’t,” said Chantel, bristling. “Adam was brave. Really brave. I’d like to see you standing up to the Dark Being’s emissary.” She gave a sob. “I just wish he’d let go before they vanished through a portal.”
It was all so overwhelming Chantel could hardly bear to think about it.
Owen pushed his plate away. “Our adventures were fun at first. Now they’re scary.”
“Come off it. There was always a scary side,” said Holly. Her voice was determinedly matter of fact. “But they always ended okay. Don’t you dare give up. This adventure will end okay too. Adam will be found. Myrddin’s gone to rescue him.” Despite her resolve, her voice wobbled at the end. She too watched the sky and ignored her food.
Owen thrust his chair back. “I don’t get it. Where are the other Wise Ones? Ava and Equus said to call if we needed them. We do. We called ages ago.” He stalked across the room, yanked the French doors open and stepped outside onto the patio.
“Come on, Ava. Come on, Equus,” he whispered.
“Oh, do shut up,” said Holly quietly, from behind him. “That’s the hundredth time already. You’re making everything worse.”
“Well, why aren’t they here?” snapped Owen. “Know what? I think something bad’s happened.” He challenged Holly. “You think so too, don’t you?”
Holly flushed and jerked her head toward Chantel who was joining them.
It was too late.
Chantel burst into fresh tears and fled upstairs. The bedroom door slammed.
Mr. Smythe glared at Owen and followed her.
“Idiot,” said Holly. She slumped on the nearest wooden chair. “Chantel can’t take any more. She’s only seven. How would you feel if I’d disappeared?”
The hint of a grin tugged at the corner of Owen’s mouth.
Holly gave him a little push. “No…don’t bother to answer! Learn some tact.”
Owen flopped into a patio chair beside her. “I didn’t mean to upset Chantel, or Mr. Smythe, but we’ve got to face it, Holly. Something’s wrong.”
Holly grimaced.
“Come on, Holly. Admit it.” Owen thumped the table between them. “The Wise Ones are in trouble! I bet the Dark Being’s got them!”
Holly stopped him again. “Don’t even think that way,” she said fiercely. “We’ve got to keep light in our hearts. They said so.”
“All right, all right.” Owen shrugged. “So she hasn’t got them. I’m keeping light in my heart. Now what?”
“Wait and hope,” said Holly firmly.
Owen slumped. “I’m fed up with waiting. I wish we weren’t just kids.”
“What difference would that make? Mr. Smythe’s an adult, and he hasn’t a clue.”
“Well, something better happen soon. We go home tomorrow. We’ve gotta get Adam back,” said Owen.
They sat in silence, trying not to think the unthinkable.
Adam clung to the hem of Zorianna’s cloak as she dragged him through the Mists of Time.
His eyes were scrunched shut. His hands gripped the fabric with fingers of steel.
He was terrified. He knew they were going to Zorianna’s mistress, the Dark Being.
This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, he thought bitterly. But no way was he going to let go. No way was he going to let Zorianna steal the staff he’d worked so hard to get.
Zorianna sped up.
Adam groaned.
Among the stars, evil smirked.
“I found it!” crowed the Dark Being to her servant. She stared down at a small blue planet. “Insignificant Gaia, the place the humans call Earth. This is where the Tools of Power are hidden.” She chuckled. “The Wise Ones could not conceal their traces forever. The planet tingles with their magic.”
She studied the magical trail left by the Wise Ones, and her anger, always close to the surface, began to rise. “The Wise Ones know I have approached, yet they feel hope, not despair. Why? Old Magic will do them no good. I will prevail. I am the most powerful being in the universe.” She shook out her tumble of dark curls, lifted her face to rejoice in the darkness around her and stretched out her arms to the universe.
The large jet-black stone on the ring around her third finger glowed darkly. She looked at it and smiled as she rubbed the stone in a circular motion. “Darkness will triumph! My power grows as each day passes. My army has grown to millions, and my enemies are but four beings who gave up their Tools of Power.” She laughed. “How can the Wise Ones stop me? Soon the entire universe will understand the beauty of Darkness.”
She sent out a trumpet call of mindspeak to her Shades and emissaries searching the nearby stars.
Return, my emissaries. Come, come, come, my Shades. The hiding place of the Tools of Power has been discovered. Zorianna has descended to retrieve them. Gather so we can celebrate and witness the final fading of the Wise Ones.
The Dark Being stared down at Gaia again. Her lips twitched. “What a ridiculous hiding place! What were the Wise Ones thinking? Earth Magic is pitifully simple and Old Magic almost forgotten. Neither can ever match my magic. Already I am more powerful than individual Wise Ones. With even one tool I can destroy Equus, Ava and Myrddin. Then I can overcome the Lady and take the necklace.”
She laughed, savoring the thought of victory, then shouted in mindspeak through time and space. Hurry, Zorianna. You are the greatest of my emissaries. Find the Tools quickly. Bring them, and we shall celebrate everlasting Darkness. I will reward you well.
Full of good humor, the Dark Being settled down to wait. She used the time to consider her next move. How should she best reward her loyal army of Shades? Should she entertain them by destroying Gaia? Complete annihilation was exciting and satisfying to watch. It would cement their belief in her power, though they had seen her destroy many planets before.
No, something different was called for this time.
What if she sent the Shades themselves down to Gaia? Yes. She would let them terrorize the humans and create a new race of Darklings to serve both themselves and her.
Below, the small blue planet humans called Earth spun on through the Mists of Time.
Holly, short of sleep from the night’s activities, could no longer keep her eyes open. She cushioned her head on her arms at the patio table and dozed. Her mind fluttered in and out of a strange dream.
She flew over a silver sea toward a castle, built on a small island. From the castle’s center rose a tall round tower, pointing like a finger to the sky.
Holly swooped over the castle walls.
A figure stood on the circular platform at the top of the tower, a cloaked figure wearing a glowing necklace. One arm was outstretched and silver threads of magic spun from the fingers, creating a delicate web of light that spiraled to the stars. The other hand gripped the necklace.
“Who are you?” cried Holly. “Please tell me?” She dove toward the tower.
The figure looked up.
Holly had a flash of recognition; she’d seen those eyes before.
Sea mist blew between them. The tower was gone.
Lost and disoriented, Holly flailed her arms desperately.
“Ouch.” Holly woke with a start. She had whacked one arm hard on the chair beside her.
She sat up, rubbing the bruise and wiping the shadows of sleep from her eyes. Faint images from the dream lingered. She tried to recapture them, distressed that she didn’t recognize the figure. Then she stretched and yawned, and the dream was gone.
Once again, Holly watched the sky and wished for Adam’s safe return.
Loud murmurings in the Mists of Time roused Manannan a second time. He climbed again through the walls and ditches of his fortified mountain, to stand on Barrule’s peak, within the horseshoe wall of rocks. He stared deep into the bright morning sky.
He stiffened.
A patch of strange blankness marred the sky. It was as though a cl
oud hovered, though no cloud was to be seen. Feelings of evil and rage oozed from the place.
He had been warned to watch for this. The cloud that was not a cloud concealed the arrival of the terrible Dark Being. She was here and watching Gaia.
Manannan shut his eyes and probed the edge of the blankness. He shuddered at the hatred he sensed.
He tuned into the Mists again.
The magical Mists of Time hummed with information: Zorianna, an emissary from the Dark Being, had captured Myrddin’s staff. A human child was trying to recover it.
Manannan listened with amazement. The Mists of Time had been silent for decades, their magic forgotten by humans. Now they rang with chatter for those who had ears to hear.
Manannan gasped. “This is unbelievable,” he said to himself. “A modern child challenging the Dark Being’s emissary! No wonder the Mists are alive with talk.” He shook his head sadly. “The child has no chance unless it calls upon Old Magic. But modern children do not know about Earth Magic, let alone understand that Old Magic exists. What to do? What to do?”
Manannan cupped his hand to his ear and listened again. The disturbance was growing. Myrddin had entered the Mists to search for the child and his staff.
Despite the gravity of the situation, Manannan smiled. “The Wise One, Myrddin, need not worry about his staff. Its magic is alive and rebelling as it should. The staff will not allow itself to be removed from Gaia by any hand other than his.”
Manannan stretched out and caught a few wisps of cloud hanging around Barrule’s summit. He pulled the wisps close to his face and whispered. “Go, hum in Myrddin’s ear. Tell him the staff and the child approach Mann. Tell him they will find refuge here.”
The handful of mist swirled away.
“A pretty kettle of fish indeed.” Manannan shook his head. “Mann must be protected and the child saved.” He sighed. “First, I must confine the emissary within the magic of Mann, where she can do no harm.” He fingered his long white beard. “That may rouse the Sleeper, but perhaps her time has come.”