‘It’s difficult for me to approach the castle these days. That damn bird of yours really is quite powerful and the enchantments she’s placed around the castle, and especially around you two, are quite difficult to penetrate.’
‘So why is it so easy for you to meet us here?’
‘It’s not possible for your minders to be everywhere. And every wizard or witch worth their salt knows that mirrors can be tricky things. They don’t always reflect what you think they will, and what they reflect isn’t necessarily what’s there. It’s a useful place to … educate the two of you.’
Grady snorted. ‘By trapping us here? You think that’s going to make us want to trust you enough to “educate” us? You haven’t even told us your name.’
‘Quite right,’ said the man, smiling and inclining his head in a respectful nod. ‘But I am not about to give my name away yet. I would rather see if you are as clever as I have been led to believe.’
‘Led to believe?’ said Niamh. ‘By whom?’
‘By those whose judgement I trust. And I don’t mean the two you see behind me.’
‘What sort of “education” do you think we need?’ said Grady, folding his arms defiantly across his chest.
‘Turn around. If your ears won’t provide what you must learn, then perhaps your eyes can.’
The figure waved his hands expansively in the air as if revealing a great scene. As he did so Niamh and Grady felt a chill breeze sweep over their shoulders. They turned and saw no mirror behind them but a lake edge and a circle of stones glimpsed through a stand of trees. They were lakeside at Morrigan’s Daughter.
‘Listen to me carefully,’ said the man, placing a hand firmly on their shoulders. ‘Under no circumstances, none at all, must you allow yourselves to be seen here. Your lives depend on it.’
Niamh peered hard through the trees and saw figures moving at the lake edge, but could not tell who they were. ‘Is this happening now? Are these people at the lake now?’
Grady responded before the man had a chance to correct Niamh. ‘This isn’t now, Niamh. This feels like it’s a long, long, time ago.’
The old man chuckled. ‘Your brother is quicker than you. And he clearly has the talent of … feeling time. Though that is not the best way to describe it. He is correct. What you are about to see happened nearly a thousand years ago. But you are bound to it in ways you are only beginning to understand. I am sorry to put you in danger like this but if you will not take the advice of my friends then more direct measures are required. It’s only fair, though, that I warn you. There is some danger involved.’
‘What sort of danger?’ said Niamh.
‘You are not seeing a memory of something that happened. You will see it happen, the events themselves. If anything should happen to you here, if you should be seen or injured, or … killed, then a thousand years of history, give or take a few years, could unravel. The Twins behind me here would be released from you in a place and a time which this world – and the other, the world in which you were born – could not control. It would place both worlds in mortal jeopardy.’
‘So, no pressure then,’ said Grady, drawing a breath.
‘No. No pressure,’ said the old man, smiling. ‘Remember, when you step out from here you will be visible. Be extremely careful. Let no one see you. Do not react to anything you see. Do not make a sound.’
Niamh smiled. ‘We may have a trick that can help with that.’
‘Really?’ said the old man, raising an eyebrow.
‘Really,’ said Grady, nodding his head. He gave Niamh a sly wink before closing his eyes and reached for the calm state he needed to allow the spell of invisibility to flow. But every time he tried to find that smooth flow of power he felt it drift out of reach.
‘I’m waiting to be amazed,’ said the old man, smiling.
‘I can’t do it,’ said Grady under his breath to Niamh. ‘You try.’
Niamh took a breath and tried to settle into the spell, but like Grady she found herself as solidly visible as she had been before.
‘What’s happening?’ she said to the old man. ‘What have you done?’
‘Me?’ said the old man with mock surprise written all over his face. ‘I’ve done nothing. But I know why you can’t cast the spell you wanted here. And it’s nothing to do with me.’
‘Then what is it?’ said Niamh angrily.
‘This place is not like home. Some spells you thought you could cast here may not work at all. Some may work perfectly, blasting spells particularly for some reason. Other spells might work even better. Magic in this time is much more elemental than where we have come from.’
Niamh bit her lip as she thought about the wizard’s words before grabbing Grady’s wrist. She closed her eyes and remembered the moment in the cave at Avalon’s End when Belimawr had first drawn magic through her to weave the spell that hid them from the world. This time the power of the magic hit her with a force she had not experienced before. She felt the invisible wind roar around her again and a shimmering veil surrounded her in an instant, shielding both her and Grady from the old man’s eyes.
‘Very impressive,’ he said while managing to look not the least bit impressed. ‘Make sure you keep that in place. And don’t get too close to the others out there,’ he said, gesturing towards the lake edge and the stone circle. ‘With the amount of power you are drawing, which I must say is a little worrying, any wizard or witch worth their salt will be able to sense where you are.’
‘We’ll try and be quiet. I promise. Or at least I will. I can’t speak for my brother here.’
The old man smiled. ‘Now go. I will be waiting here for you when … when it’s over.’
‘When what’s over?’ said Grady.
‘You’ll know when you see it. Go quickly.’
Chapter 18
Present and Past
The forest sounded unnaturally quiet as the children stepped as silently as they could across the undergrowth. Their feet found twigs that unavoidably snapped loudly (it seemed to the children) like cannon fire.
‘Remind me to see if there’s a levitation spell we can work on when we get back. They are bound to hear us,’ said Niamh, squeezing her brother’s hand.
‘They won’t hear a thing. Remember? The spell muffles sound. Besides, they are too interested in their own conversation. Look!’ said Grady, pointing at three figures by the circle of stone.
A man and a woman stood with their backs to the children. The man had a small pouch sitting snugly on his hip, a hand resting on silver clasps on the smooth leather. It was clearly not a day pack and was oddly shaped with an obvious weight bulging at the bottom of it.
The woman who stood beside him wore a white gown that mirrored the ribbons woven through long golden hair that fell to her waist. She wore no warming clothes despite the chill the children could feel in the forest air. The woman’s demeanour mirrored that of the man she stood beside – tall and proud and seemingly ready for action. A nervous energy flooded the atmosphere around them.
But the children’s eyes were drawn to the figure on the raised dais of the stone circle. If the figure that stood there was not Modron then it was Modron’s twin. The enigmatic smile that seemed permanently attached to the sparkling troll’s face was etched on to this troll’s features as well.
‘Is that her?’ said Niamh. She knew she did not have to say Modron’s name.
‘It can’t be,’ said Grady, squinting at the figure as if he could not believe who he was seeing.
‘Let’s get closer. I can’t hear what they are saying,’ said Niamh, ‘We can hide behind those bushes.’
‘Why are we hiding? No one can see us or hear us.’
‘Don’t you ever listen to anything? We can’t get too close or they’ll know we are here and we need to be careful – any cover is better than none in case something goes wrong.’
Grady rolled his eyes as he and Niamh stepped over to the green and shadowy cover. From where they now crouc
hed they could hear the tall man speaking to the troll.
‘Why did you bring us here tonight? It’s Beltaine. You know as well as I do that for your kind it is dangerous to be around them this night.’
The troll said nothing but stared serenely.
‘You bring us here and then say nothing?’ said the woman. Her voice was beautiful and soft, yet possessed a powerful sound that spoke of great magic being restrained.
The troll stood quietly before casting a glance back up the mountain side as if waiting for someone. ‘I am sorry for my rude manner. My father and I are disturbed by recent events. You know of what I speak?’
The two figures exchanged a glance and as they did their faces were revealed in profile. The man had no trace of grey in his hair, nor a beard, and the features were less lined, but there was no doubt this was a younger version of the old man who had brought them here tonight. Niamh felt Grady’s grip tighten as he too recognised him. The woman’s face, while beautiful and sculpted, was unmistakably family to the man she stood beside.
‘That can’t be,’ said Grady, more to himself than Niamh. ‘It can’t be him, can it?’
Niamh bowed her head in thought as she replayed the old man’s words when he brought them here. There was no doubt she recalled his words well. ‘He definitely said nearly a thousand years, Grady. But he can’t possibly be that old!’
The two figures by the circle of stone edged closer to the troll. Wands now lay in their palms ready for use. ‘What is so important that Modron should call us and demand our presence?’ said the man firmly.
‘I would never demand your presence, Azrael,’ said the troll, bowing. ‘But I may have information that is of interest to you.’
Niamh and Grady stared at each other in shock. Not only did Modron stand before them, but the man who had brought them here tonight was the man responsible for the creation of the Twins.
‘Speak then,’ said Azrael imperiously. ‘My sister and I are expected with our friends and allies. I doubt they would be pleased if we were late because of a troll, even for the daughter of the king.’
‘I have news of one you knew well. I bring news of the Morrigan.’
Azrael looked down at the mention of the name and his shoulders slumped. One hand reached for the pouch and held it more tightly.
‘The name makes you uncomfortable?’ said Modron quizzically.
‘No. Not the name,’ said Azrael. ‘But what she became and what I had to do to her to stop … to prevent more madness entering the world.’
‘The spell of separation you cast on her is an evil thing. Do you not agree?’ said Modron sharply. ‘A spell that splits a spirit from a body and casts it into the space between worlds is truly evil.’
Azrael looked to the sky. His face was lit by the sun as it headed towards sunset.
‘There was no other way. I could not kill her, but she had to be stopped. She could not use my creations the way she planned – it would have been madness. The worlds are separated for a reason and linking the magic together as she planned would have been folly. You trolls have the secret of the stone portals to travel between worlds and, until recently at least, you have been trusty guardians. But what the Morrigan planned was insanity. I had to send her to a place where she could do no more damage.’
Azrael’s sister placed a gentle hand on her brother’s shoulder. ‘You did what had to be done,’ she said gently. ‘And I know you loved her, so the pain of the spell weighs on you as well.’ She turned her haughty features to Modron with a stare that looked like it could cut through anything less solid than the troll. ‘What would you have us do to safeguard the ways between worlds?’ she said to the troll.
Modron smiled. ‘There are ways,’ she said enigmatically. ‘But I doubt you would be able to manage them yourself. It is magic we trolls possess that is of the deep earth, a place you do not know as we do.’
‘Show me,’ said the woman defiantly.
‘My Lady Aisling,’ said the troll, ‘I would be honoured, but you would need to place your trust in me alone. I do not think there is a chance that with present relations between our kind you would be prepared to let me guide you.’
‘I am more brave than you imagine,’ said the woman.
‘Aisling, no,’ said Azrael, taking his sister’s arm.
‘Brother,’ she said, placing a calming hand on his. ‘You always were less willing to take chances than me and for that you have missed out on many ways to see the world differently. But I think this time I would like to see magic we have not encountered before. Trust me.’
‘I trust you, but I do not trust that one,’ said Azrael.
‘Your brother is right to be wary, my lady, but remember the prize that sits at his waist was formed using our powers as well, although there are many of my kind who were not happy about that.’
‘What would you show me?’ said Aisling, letting go of her brother and stepping up to the troll.
‘Enter the circle and I will show you things you did not expect,’ said Modron.
Aisling turned and smiled at her brother. ‘Do not worry. I will be fine.’ Taking a breath she stepped confidently into the middle of the circle and faced Modron. ‘Show me.’
The troll placed her hands on the pillar of rock before her and the circle began to turn. The tall stones groaned as they slowly revolved.
The sun chose that moment to set dramatically behind the mountain. As it did so a great wind began to descend from the mountain tops. It swept down across the trees, bending them as it hurtled towards the circle. Azrael reached inside the pouch at his waist and raised his wand, but the howling wind lifted him from his feet and smashed him to the ground. The wind swung around the circle moving faster and faster until it seemed the ring of stone was at the centre of a storm.
Inside the circle there was no indication Aisling could see any of what was happening outside. She stood with a look of wonder on her face and arms outstretched.
Modron paid no heed to the roaring gale as it howled around her. The wind picked up speed yet again, seeming to take a physical form as it did. The ethereal shape within the maelstrom rose into the air, before crashing violently into the centre of the circle. As it did so Aisling was lifted from her feet and thrown into the air. A look of horror crossed her face as she screamed, but the sound from her cry was carried away on the gale.
In the centre of the circle a figure began to form. A vapourous swirl slowly coalesced into the shape of a tall woman. The figure stood with her face to the sky and arms outstretched. Power radiated from the figure, though she remained translucent and not fully formed. Her face was handsome, not beautiful, with an aquiline nose and broad red lips. The high collar of the emerald gown she wore hid a graceful neck that curved down into a shawl which wrapped around her and was held fast at the shoulder by a golden clasp. A wand was held lightly in slender fingers that twitched as if they were eager to loose a spell.
‘Not possible,’ said Azrael quietly. The wind which still beat upon him carried the words to the children.
‘What’s happening, Niamh?’ said Grady, hunkering down against the wind which threatened to strip the bushes that hid them from sight.
‘I don’t know,’ yelled Niamh, wiping dust from her eyes. ‘But I think that’s the Morrigan!’
The wind continued to howl as Azrael gathered his wand and forced his way through the storm towards the witch and his sister. One hand reached inside the bag as he bent against the storm. As he did so he straightened up and stood tall. The power of the wind seemed diminished against him. He walked calmly towards the circle where the witch stood awaiting him.
Grady knew in an instant what lay inside the satchel. ‘He’s carrying the Twins!’
‘I know,’ snapped Niamh. ‘I can work it out too! You’re not the only genius in this family. That’s why we can’t hear them in our heads. In this place, in this time, they haven’t been released yet!’
‘Let her go,’ said Azrael, advancing on the rin
g of stones. ‘You don’t have any need of a hostage.’ His voice carried above the sound of the wind without any effort. The power of the Twins gave it an echoing thunderous note.
The witch laughed, throwing back her head. ‘I have no need of hostages. I am the Morrigan. And I have everything here I need.’
With that the witch raised her wand and the body of Aisling rotated downwards, her toes lightly touching the grass. Her eyes were wide with terror, her cries muffled by the spell.
‘I’ll say it again. Let her go and we can settle this between the two of us. This has nothing to do with my sister,’ said Azrael, now standing at the edge of the circle.
The wizard raised his wand and swept it in an arc across the circle. In an instant the wind dropped away completely and a calmness fell over the clearing. Azrael took another step towards the gap between two of the standing stones.
Modron raised a hand towards Azrael. ‘I would not try to enter that space if I were you.’
Azrael cast an angry frown at the troll. ‘You really do not know what you are doing. This witch will lead you to your end.’
‘That may be one outcome,’ said the troll, nodding. ‘But unless you have gained the power of foretelling I doubt even you can see our future. Either way, you must know that stepping into that circle, while I am holding the power of our kind to open the gap between worlds, will tear you apart. You cannot touch her in there, even with that weapon you carry with you.’
Azrael looked as though he had been slapped in the face. ‘The Twins are not a weapon! They are … they are …’ Confusion covered his face before he managed to regain his composure. ‘I made these to enable great magic to be created, something greater than any of us could imagine.’
The troll smiled sympathetically. ‘Oh Azrael. You are a great wizard, possibly the greatest we have ever seen. But you really don’t know the hearts of men. Something as powerful as you have created will always be capable of great magic, and great evil. It is the nature of balance. You know that to be true from the work you did to create them in the first place. If it were not for the power of the Morrigan you could not have created the Twins, just as you needed the magic of my world. And you must have known even then that she would always want to use the Twins for something other than that for which you intended.’
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