White Horse Talisman Read online

  “Yes, please let us!” added the other children.

  “I been asked some funny things in my time,” said George, shaking his head, “but this be the strangest.” He looked up at the hillside, scratching his head. “I don’t reckon you should use paint. Not good for the land, see. But I have some bags of lime. You could sprinkle that along the lines, if you think it would show. I were goin’ to lime yon fields anyway.”

  Mr. Smythe clapped George on the back as Holly and

  Owen thanked him.

  A fluttering movement caught Chantel’s eye. Six magpies had settled on the roof of the pub. She nudged Holly and pointed. Holly squeezed her arm.

  Chantel leaned against the Land Rover to rest her leg again. She closed her eyes. Horse, you’ll see her soon. I promise.

  Equus blew gently. Chantel’s hair lifted.

  Only Adam seemed detached from the excitement. He stood in the middle of the parking lot, caught in a whirl of emotions.

  CCC

  “Something’s happening. The dragon is stirring.” Ava cir–cled around Myrddin. “He is growing in power. The rising magic feeds him.”

  Myrddin shrugged helplessly. “We have no tools. Our power is limited. Only Equus or the boy child can stop him.”

  Ava flew away to observe the dragon again.

  The dragon ignored her. Once more he focused his strengthening power against the bonds of starlight surround–ing him.

  They held firm.

  He retrieved his power and refocused. With a toothy grin, he bombarded the human boy child with anger and resentment.

  CCC

  Adam watched as George Whitfield backed out his farm truck and leaned out of the window to confer with Mr. Smythe. He felt strange, suddenly angry, resentful, and irritated by the excitement and activity around him.

  He watched as Mr. Smythe fetched the folding chair from the back of the Land Rover and helped Chantel to sit facing the hillside. She clutched binoculars and held a cell phone in her lap.

  Holly and Owen climbed into the back of George Whit–field’s truck, their faces alight.

  “Come on, Adam, we’re picking up bags of lime. Then Mr. Whitfield will drop us off at the top of the hill,” shouted Owen.

  “Are you staying here or what?” called Holly.

  Chantel grinned at him. She waved her phone. “Go on, Adam. I’ll be fine. Mr. Smythe’s got a cell phone and so have I. I’ll tell you all what to do from down here.”

  Adam’s frustration grew. There she was again! His little sister ordering everyone around. The talisman is the key to power. The thought appeared unbidden in his head.

  Adam straightened his shoulders. That’s right. If he found the other half of the talisman, then things would change. He could bargain with everyone — his parents, Chantel, the White Horse. He wouldn’t need the pesky dragon! For once he would be in charge.

  “Hold on. I’m coming.” Adam ran and leapt up over the back of the truck. He hung over the side and called urgently to Mr. Smythe. “Please Can I have the other phone to coordinate with Chantel?”

  “I don’t see why not.” Mr. Smythe handed over his cell phone and climbed into the cab.

  With a scrape of gears they were off. Chantel and the customers waved and shouted encouragement.

  Chantel watched the hill through her binoculars. The phone rang. She tucked it against her ear.

  CCC

  “Can you see us?” Adam’s voice was clear.

  The pub customers and some passersby hung around and listened. They watched the small figures silhouetted on the skyline.

  “I see you,” Chantel said. She waved and giggled. She couldn’t help it. Several patrons were dragging chairs out of the bar. They sat down and stared at the hill.

  “What’s with all the people?” asked Adam.

  “They’re from the village.” Chantel tried not to laugh. “They’ve come to watch.”

  “You bet,” someone called out, and waved a glass of beer. “It’s the first entertainment round these parts for weeks.”

  Laughter ran through the crowd.

  “Oh.” Adam sounded as though he didn’t understand at all. “Chantel, guide me to the start of the crop mark. They’re hard to spot up here. Once I’m in place I’ll hand the phone to Holly. Guide her along the line to halfway; then Owen will go to the bottom. Mr. Smythe will mark our spots with scoops of lime. Then we’ll connect them up.”

  “Cool,” replied Chantel. “Like a giant dot-to-dot puzzle.”

  The eavesdroppers laughed again.

  Chantel peered through the binoculars. “I’m watching.”

  “Right,” said Adam. His distant figure waved. “I’ll walk to where we think the line starts. Direct me if it’s not correct.”

  Everyone watched the small figure make his way below the clump of bushes.

  “Wait … you’ve gone too far,” Chantel called. “Step left … I mean right … walk up a bit … stop!”

  Slowly she positioned the three figures along the barely visible crop mark.

  “Be danged if I can see any lines. I’m going for another beer.” One man lumbered to his feet and left.

  Oh dear. What if my eyes are playing tricks? Chantel thought. There really is nothing much to see.

  See with your inner eyes, the White Horse said. See what Alfred saw.

  I’ll try, Chantel thought.

  Suddenly Mr. Smythe’s voice came over the phone. “Chantel, we’re going to join the line. It’ll take a while, so you can switch off.”

  “Good luck,” Chantel called back. She pressed the switch and watched through the binoculars.

  Bit by bit a white line grew across the hillside.

  “Here, dearie.” The woman from the pub appeared with a glass of cold lemonade. “It’s hot work sitting in the sun.

  Drink up and don’t look so worried. Everyone’s having the time of their life. You lot should come every week. It’s right good for business.”

  Chantel looked around. The car park was full. Children were swinging on the church gate and sitting on the wall. A couple of women jiggled strollers containing sleeping babies, and several people had brought their own folding chairs. The entire village had turned out to watch.

  Step by careful step, the lines made sense. Long thin lines with gentle curves suggested a nose and the neck. Four short lines made pointed ears.

  “Well, I’ll be blowed,” said a customer. “The old mare’s still watching over us. Who’d have believed it.”

  The audience began to clap.

  The six magpies called, spread their wings and flapped slowly towards the hill.

  CCC

  Mr. Smythe, Holly, Owen, and Adam heard the clapping and looked proudly over their handiwork.

  “It doesn’t look like a horse from up here,” said Holly, “but it must from down there.” She gave a wave.

  “It doesn’t feel right,” said Owen. He stood between the lines, frowning. “Something’s missing.”

  “Most of the horse,” Holly pointed out. “We’ve only found the head. The rest is too overgrown.”

  “Gotta find the eye,” Adam muttered. He walked around the sloping ground searching for clues. “The Eye Maker put white chalk in the eye.”

  Mr. Smythe looked doubtful. “I know Chantel told us about a white eye, but I never found any reference to it in my research. This is a big figure. We’d have to dig up half the area to locate the eye.”

  Owen shook his head. “Not if she’s mate to the White Horse.” He gestured towards the lines on the ground. “She’s the same design, isn’t she?”

  “There are similarities,” Mr. Smythe agreed.

  “Then I think I know how to find the eye,” Owen said.

  “Go on,” encouraged Mr. Smythe.

  Owen’s eyes danced. “It’s that magic number thing again. Seven steps from the ear of the White Horse to the top of its eye. I bet it’s the same for the red mare.”

  “Great!” Adam grabbed the trowel they used f
or scooping lime. He ran to the center of the head. “You pace. I’ll dig.”

  “More magic. Why not?” shrugged Mr. Smythe. A shadow flitted over his face. He looked up. The magpies were circling overhead. “Six for gold,” he muttered. “I wonder …”

  Owen paced. Holly counted.

  Adam crouched down and rammed the trowel through the tangled grass. He dug feverishly in the reddish brown dirt. It was hard work and he had to dig deep.

  “I see some white flecks,” he said finally.

  “Oh ye of little faith,” Mr. Smythe said to himself, shak–ing his head.

  He, Holly and Owen dashed over to watch.

  Adam scrabbled and scraped. The trowel jarred in his hand. Anxiously he pushed the others out of the way.

  “Watch out,” he grunted as he forced the trowel down into the hard-packed chalk and leaned on it with all his might.

  CCC

  Puzzled questions floated among the watchers in the car park.

  “What are they doing?”

  “They’re in a huddle. Is someone hurt?”

  “Do you know what’s going on, lassie?”

  Chantel glued her eyes to the binoculars. Excitement tingled from her toes, up her spine, and electrified the hairs on her head. She watched the magpies fly in closer and closer circles until they were directly over Adam.

  Six for gold, Horse, she thought. Watch carefully.

  I’m watching, replied the White Horse.

  CCC

  With a scatter of debris, the packed chalk suddenly gave way and something shiny flew through the air.

  Hands shot out.

  Adam dropped the trowel and lunged forward. He grabbed the gold fragment and clutched it to his chest with a shout of triumph.

  The magpies gave several piercing cries and disappeared over the hilltop.

  CCC

  The huddle on the hillside broke apart as the children and Mr. Smythe ran beyond the lines so the people below could see.

  “The eye! They found the eye,” Chantel shouted. Adam was dancing up and down, waving his hand in the air. There was a flash as the sun caught the other piece of talisman.

  The crowd hooted and hollered.

  Horse, Chantel called inside her head. Adam’s found the rest of the talisman!

  The cell phone rang, interrupting her. “Don’t tell anyone down there what I found,” Adam whispered.

  “’Course not,” Chantel replied.

  Adam’s voice became triumphant. “What a day! We’re coming down!”

  “Well, I be danged. There be the red mare’s head, as clear as day.” George Whitfield gazed in amazement. “’Tis many a year since she watched over us! This calls for a celebration.

  Betsy, bring out food and drinks.”

  The car park became the site of an instant party. Food ap–peared as if by magic, and everyone toasted the reappearance of the red mare with pints of beer or bottles of lemonade.

  A great cheer went up as Adam, Holly, Owen, and Mr.

  Smythe appeared through the trees.

  At the height of the celebration, Chantel tried to reach the White Horse. Did we find enough of your beautiful red mare? she asked.

  You did. The people believe in her again, now she looks over the vale. Soon she will join me and we will once more ride the wind together, replied the White Horse.

  We couldn’t find the foal, Chantel added sadly.

  It matters not. When the red mare runs, the foal will fol–low. Thank you, Magic Child. Your task is almost complete.

  All that is left is for you and Adam to make the talisman whole.

  Chantel sensed another presence approaching.

  She comes. Now we can ride the wind together!

  The excited whicker of two horses greeting sounded in Chantel’s head. She felt the red mare’s friendly curiosity and gratitude mingle with the familiar feelings from the White Horse. Tears of joy pricked behind her eyes as she listened to the fading echo of a double set of hoof beats.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  POWER STRUGGLES

  The village party continued into the evening, but a pall had fallen over the children.

  Adam would not let the piece of talisman out of his sight.

  “Can I see it?” Chantel whispered.

  He flashed a tantalizing glimpse.

  Chantel held out her hand, but he shook his head and replaced the gold in his pocket. Adam could feel the power of the talisman. It throbbed, warming him and strengthen–ing his resolve. For once he felt in total control. He owned a piece of magic and he was going to use it.

  He refused to let anyone else handle it.

  “Got to keep it safe,” Adam said firmly. He wouldn’t even show it to Mr. Smythe.

  The drive back to White Horse Farm was tense.

  The fight erupted at bedtime. The three cousins confronted Adam in his bedroom.

  CCC

  “Adam Maxwell, stop being a pain,” said Holly. “So you found the other half of the talisman. That doesn’t make you the big cheese.”

  “Yeah! It doesn’t even belong to you,” added Owen. “It belongs to the White Horse.”

  Chantel looked worried. “Why won’t you let us look at it? You can’t keep it forever. We’ve promised to fix it.”

  “Who says?” retorted Adam. “Finders keepers.”

  Chantel’s, Holly’s, and Owen’s jaws dropped.

  “You wouldn’t dare … We have to make the talisman whole,” Chantel stammered.

  “Why? So the horse can gallop off with it?” Adam an–swered. “Well, maybe I want to use it first.”

  “You’ve been talking to that dragon again,” Owen accused.

  “I’m not talking to any stupid dragon, pathetic horse, know-it-all cousins, or crazy sister. You’re just jealous,” Adam flung back. He grabbed his PJs and turned to leave.

  Goaded beyond endurance, Owen tackled Adam’s knees and brought him to the floor. The boys hammered at each other. Holly scrambled up onto the top bunk; Chantel cowered in the corner, trying to protect her leg with the crutches.

  “I hate you, Adam,” she yelled. “You’re spoiling everything!”

  The door opened. “Owen … Adam … Behave!” roared Uncle Ron. He pointed to the girls. “You two, into your own room and get ready for bed.”

  Silently, Holly climbed down and Chantel hobbled past her uncle as the boys scrambled to their feet.

  Uncle Ron glared at the boys. “You know the rule no fighting no matter what. Owen, get your duvet and pillow. You can sleep in the study tonight.”

  “But, Dad I That’s not fair.”

  His father pointed to the door.

  Owen did as he was told, gathering his night things together in silence. He stomped out.

  Uncle Ron looked at Adam. “Get into bed and never let me see you fighting again.”

  CCC

  The dragon chortled as Adam’s anger coursed once more through his veins.

  Ava shuddered and left her post to report to Myrddin. “The dragon is manipulating the boy’s thoughts again.”

  Myrddin spread his hands in despair. “We cannot inter–fere. The boy must choose freely. His heart is his own.”

  “Join with me, Myrddin. Keep hope alive while Equus rides the wind. Send peaceful thoughts to Gaia.” Ava spread her wings in blessing.

  Myrddin shook out his cloak and flung stardust towards the misty blue planet.

  CCC

  Adam seethed in his bunk, wondering how to get both halves of the talisman.

  He turned over in bed, replaying in his head the magical “clang” of Wayland’s anvil and the image of the two halves coming together. He banged his head several times on the pillow. “Think, brain, think! How can I get the other half from Chantel, then get to Wayland’s Smithy on my own?” he said to himself.

  Slipping his hand under his pillow, Adam touched his piece of the talisman to reassure himself that it was still safe. He let go quickly, not wanting to fall asleep holding it. He did not w
ant to talk to the dragon until the talisman was whole and he had something to bargain with. A thought oc–curred to him. What if he held it just long enough to make a tiny wish?

  Adam clasped the gold piece and closed his eyes. “I wish there was a way to get the other half of the talisman from Chantel,” he whispered, and let go, removing his hand from under the pillow.

  No bright ideas occurred to him.

  The bedroom seemed empty and unfriendly. Adam’s thoughts drifted towards Owen sleeping on the study couch.

  Served Owen right for fighting!

  It was a long time before he slept.

  CCC

  Holly and Chantel lay talking quietly.

  “We’ve got to take both halves of the talisman to Way–land’s Smithy,” said Chantel. “We promised the White Horse we’d make it whole.”

  “We will,” soothed Holly.

  “Adam won’t let us.” Chantel’s voice broke in a little sob.

  “He hates me again, like he did in Canada.”

  Holly stuck her hand between the beds and held Chan–tel’s hand. “He doesn’t really hate you. He’s just messed up with the divorce stuff. But know what?”

  “What?” sniffed Chantel.

  “Adam will come through when he has to. He did when I was captured by the dragon.”

  “You’re not his sister,” muttered Chantel. “He likes you.”

  “You’ll see,” said Holly sleepily.

  CCC

  Owen lay stiffly on his back. Adam Maxwell’s the know-it-all, not me, he thought. Well, game over. I’m not helping him anymore. I’m going to help Mr. Smythe instead. He said I could work with him excavating what’s left of the red mare so she will be there forever.

  Thinking about the reappearance of the red mare brought a smile to Owen’s lips. He burrowed into the soft couch cushions and went to sleep.

  CCC

  At dawn, a blackbird perched on the thatch and burst into song. Adam awoke and pulled the pillow over his ears. The song penetrated through the stuffing. He sat up, cussed and headed for the bathroom.

  As he turned on the tap to wash his hands, Adam stared in disbelief. There beside the soap was Chantel’s half of the talisman.

  “Chantel must have dropped it by mistake.” Adam grinned. “Tough luck, Tootsie.” He palmed the talisman and raced back to his bedroom.