‘Yep,’ said Merritt, putting down the paper. ‘It was only a flicker but they … blurred. The way they did in the parade. Something or someone spoke to them.’ Merritt turned to the terrace. ‘Did you see anything?’
The view outside the doors shimmered, revealing the bulky shape of Brighid. Her fiery cloak of feathers seemed dull in the bright light of the morning sun. ‘I saw nothing, but I felt something … as if there was a gap in the world.’
Grace walked out onto the terrace and stood looking down on the lake. ‘What could you sense? Malevolent or friendly intentions?’
Brighid looked down at her talons. Merritt thought she looked embarrassed.
‘I could not say. Whatever, or whoever, our visitor was, I don’t think it is alive the way we know it. I can sense the dead, the undead, ghosts, spirits, and all manner of demons. But whatever has visited us here today is none of those. I can do nothing to protect the children from a threat I cannot even see. Nothing at all.’
A cloud sailed in front of the sun, casting a shadow over the terrace. A mountain breeze blew down from the highlands and wrapped itself around Grace, reminding her that even in summer the cold of winter was never far away in this alpine world. She shivered but did not know if it was the breeze itself or the idea of a powerless phoenix that caused the goosebumps to rise.
Grady tossed item after item from his trunk onto the floor. A pile of junk grew beside him.
‘Why do you bring all this rubbish?’ said Niamh, picking up an old cap with an angry looking bull on the front of it. ‘You’ll never wear this again.’
‘You never know when you might need it,’ said Grady, with his head buried in the enormous trunk. ‘Ah! Here it is.’
Niamh flung the cap to one side as Grady pulled the book free of the remaining clutter.
Grady stared at it, shaking his head. ‘This will take forever to read. It’s a monster.’
Niamh flicked open the clasps. The book flew open under the pressure of the pages. ‘Let’s at least start. We’ll figure it out from there.’
The opening page was mostly written in fine lettering. But the words My Gift to Avalon that had originally adorned the top of the page had been crossed out and replaced with a nervous script that read My Curse on Avalon.
In this book I will detail my studies into the development and creation of my ultimate gift to Avalon, a gift that will unite the four powers and allow works of good to be created by those skilled in the ways of the deep magic of these lands. For there are many who would seek to use the four powers in ways that should not be. So my gift will be to focus the ability to control the powers not just in this world but also those of the old world. My aim will be to create a talisman that will allow this focus of power to be maintained.
Niamh ran her fingers gently over the page. ‘Azrael must have kept this as he worked on creating the Twins. No wonder Quinn was so keen to keep it hidden. This is priceless.’
‘I don’t think he had money on his mind when he was hiding it,’ said Grady, trying to keep up with Niamh’s attempt to turn the page.
Niamh shot him a curious look. ‘Do you say things like that deliberately or do you genuinely not know what I mean?’
‘I don’t understand half the things you talk about and don’t listen to the rest of what you say. So you choose.’
Niamh rolled her eyes. ‘Whatever. Can we skim through this? We’ll be here forever otherwise. The pages are packed with stuff. I don’t even know what these diagrams are supposed to be about. I’m sure some of the sorcerers at the University would know, but it’s gibberish to me.’
‘If we’re going to be here a while, can I get some food? I’ll be starving soon if we don’t.’
‘Grady! We just ate breakfast. Where do you put it all?’
‘Ask yourself. Do you want me to get grumpy from lack of food or take your chances?’
Niamh shook her head. ‘Get what you want. I think this could be a long day.’
High in the mountains, Iris hovered on the thermals that swirled up the side of the slopes. The tree line lay not far below.
‘Where are you?’ she thought as she drifted slowly across the scree slopes that lay above the tree line. ‘I know you are there. I can feel you.’
As if in response, an arrow rose from the forest canopy. It flew faster than a normal arrow should and seemed certain to strike the dragon, until it was incinerated by a well-aimed snort of fire from Iris.
‘I have you,’ thought Iris as she turned her attention to the spot from where the arrow had been fired. With a thump of her wings she turned and swooped towards the forest. Another snort of fire turned the tops of the trees that hid the shooter to an inferno. But as she passed the spot, another arrow flew in her direction. Iris saw it coming and rolled, the arrow grazing her belly but sliding harmlessly off the hard scales protecting her. ‘You are fast,’ thought Iris. The arrow had come from a completely different location, so much further along in the treetop canopy that either the shooter must be moving inhumanly fast, or there was more than one person with arrows in the forest today. Iris knew though that this was personal. The red fletching on the arrows was a signature. There was only one person, one figure who used those arrows. The same arrows that killed her family.
Grady sat up suddenly from the book.
‘What is it?’ said Niamh.
‘Iris. I can feel her. She is hunting in the hills.’
‘I hope she’s having a better day than we are. This book is gobbledygook. I don’t understand half of what he’s going on about. Do you?’
‘Someone is hunting her.’
‘Do you need to go and help her?’
Grady stared out the window in the direction he knew Iris to be. A powerful wave of emotion swept over him accompanied by an emphatic ‘No’ which echoed around his head.
‘I don’t think so,’ he said, smiling. ‘She has things under control. For now.’
‘Forget the dragon,’ came a voice in Grady’s head.
‘Far out! It’s getting crowded in here,’ he said, putting his hands over his ears. ‘One voice at a time please!’
‘Your dragon friend does not need you right now,’ said Hep confidently. ‘You and your sister should focus on the book. There are things in there you should know.’
‘Hep?’ Niamh asked.
‘Who else.’
‘Can I join in?’
Niamh jumped.
‘Persephone?’ said Grady, smiling.
Niamh nodded. ‘Can we stop you?’ she said petulantly.
‘You know the answer. But Hephaestus and I can guide you a little through the book. There is much in there you do not need to know. The important chapters are much later.’
‘What about the unreadable sections at the end,’ said Niamh.
Persephone paused before replying. ‘We can help you with that. But you will have decisions to make if you want to be able to read the words within. And the decisions you make will depend on what you read before we get there.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Niamh curiously.
Again, there was a pause before Persephone replied. ‘There are things about us you may learn which you may not like.’
‘We all have secrets,’ said Niamh.
‘There are secrets and then there are secrets. The former you can lock away in your heart if you need to. The latter you can only hide for so long and eventually they must see the light of day. Ours have been hidden for nearly a thousand years.’
‘Are you sure you want us to read this?’ said Niamh, rubbing a hand across the ancient parchment of the book.
‘You will find out one way or the other. Eventually. We could tell you everything now but it’s better you read the book. Our journey was not planned. But you need to read to understand it. Context means a great deal in some endeavours.’
Niamh turned to Grady. ‘Did you get all that?’
Grady nodded. ‘Hep ... shared … what Persephone was telling you. I think we should sta
rt reading.’
Niamh nodded. The smell of the ancient tome drifted up, inviting the children into the tale. Together they turned to the book.
‘Now,’ said Hep. ‘Start where you want. If you get bored and want to skip ahead we’ll only stop you if you are about to miss something important. Azrael was good but he did waffle on a bit.’
Niamh turned a page as gently as she could. It crackled and threatened to rip, but didn’t. The margins were filled with unusual scribbles and diagrams.
‘Looks like he had a fair bit going through his head,’ said Grady. ‘Those doodles don’t look like the work of a completely sane mind.’
Niamh frowned. ‘Start reading,’ she said. For once she found herself agreeing with Grady. Strange creatures dominated each page, some faerie-like, some clearly not. But the face of a howling banshee was unmistakable and sent shivers down Niamh’s spine…
Chapter after chapter unfolded as the morning wore on. Most of it sounded like double Dutch to the children but occasionally Hep or Persephone would explain an important point about Azrael’s work.
Visits from Quinn were rebuffed along with those from Bree, Tulliah, Devin, Emily and Hugh. Exasperation unleashed itself as another knock on their door disrupted the reading flow.
‘Go away!’ yelled Grady.
‘I beg your pardon!’ came Grace’s voice from the other side of the door.
‘Mum!’ mouthed Niamh. ‘Quick! Hide the book!’
Grady slammed the covers shut. ‘Under the sofa. Now!’
Between them they slid the book under the ornate sofa which sat against one wall. Folds of material fell to the floor and concealed the book completely.
‘Grab your iWand,’ said Grady as he pulled his out. Niamh did the same and without having to think about it the two children set up a game of Dragon Hunt.
‘Come in!’ said Niamh, trying to remember how to play the game properly.
Grace sauntered in like a detective from a bad novel. ‘What are you two up to? It’s unusually quiet and there’s been no blood seeping under the door, which means you haven’t had any fights yet. Everything alright?’
‘Of course Mum,’ said Grady, trying desperately not to look at her but focus his attention on the game. He knew he would not be able to hide his guilty face, a look his mother would see right through.
‘Grady has been giving me some Dragon Hunt tips,’ said Niamh. ‘He’s become quite good at this game.’
‘Not surprising, considering how much time he and Hugh have spent on it. Doesn’t look like it’s doing you much good though.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Niamh, looking at her mother at the same time as Grady’s dragon sent a burst of fire at Niamh’s witch. The small figure in black with an overly pointy hat squealed in a tiny voice; “I’m melting, I’m melting!” Slowly the figure slumped into a pool of bubbling black before disappearing in a puff of light. ‘Oh. Yes. Well I’m still trying to get the hang of it.’
‘Looks like a lost cause,’ said Grace, chuckling. ‘Is that all you two have been up to?’
‘Of course,’ said Niamh. The distraction of the bubbling witch had given her enough time to compose herself. She turned her best “whatever-do-you-mean” look on her mother and knew she wasn’t giving anything away.
Grace held the stare but Niamh did not flinch. ‘Okay. Well it’s nearly lunchtime. Are you going to come and eat with us?’
‘Can we eat here?’ said Grady. ‘I’ve heaps more to teach her yet.’
Grace cast a suspicious look at Grady. ‘Well … okay. But if you make a mess you’ll have the castle faeries to deal with and the one’s here seem to have a lot more attitude than those at home.’
‘Sure. Thanks Mum,’ said Grady, as Grace left the room.
‘That was too close,’ said Niamh as she shut down her Wizcraft session. ‘She knows something is up.’
‘Course she does,’ said Grady as he reached under the sofa to drag the book out.
They opened the book and began to read where they had left off.
I did not imagine how powerful the talismans might become as I found ways to unite the powers. The spells that can be woven by users of the four powers are extraordinary by themselves. The Morrigan and myself have created magic of the most unusual and daring kind when we have combined our powers. The uniting of the four elements in that way – with the powers of a wizard and a witch – is more powerful than any other force on this earth.
‘Azrael knew the Morrigan!’ said Niamh with amazement.
‘I thought that witch was evil?’ said Grady. ‘But if she was, then why was Azrael working with her?’
‘No idea,’ said Niamh. ‘Keep reading.’
But the talismans have some kind of magnifying effect on the spells. It is well known that wielding the four powers too much can burn out a user of magic. What I have created, however, allows the powers to be wielded by one person in a way which PREVENTS that happening. There will be no end to what one sorcerer could achieve with this type of power!
‘Oh dear,’ said Grady.
‘What?’
‘Well it’s obvious isn’t it? Any wizard who starts talking about what he could achieve with power has a one-way ticket to madness. It never ends well.’
Niamh rolled her eyes. ‘This isn’t some stupid movie Grady. The power he is talking about is living within us right now.’
The powers within the talisman are amplified by the spells I have wrought upon it. But it is proving difficult to control these powers. The talisman by itself needs something more, something which removes this lack of control.
I have used Earth and Fire and Water and Air in the forging of the talisman. And I do not believe I am being immodest when I say there is no one else in the land who could do what I have done. But I still believe there is something, some variation of the Air element needed, to allow the powers to be controlled.
The Morrigan believes that wielding the power of creation by myself to fashion the talisman is the seat of the trouble. I am not so sure. But I feel there may be a grain of truth in her words. Creation is not managed by one person alone. One person may conceive an idea but it is rare any one person can bring it to fruition by themselves. I must think upon her words and ponder how, if at all, the melding of the powers can be channelled to create another talisman. There may be other flaws in my design. I must consider that possibility as well.
‘That’s not encouraging,’ said Grady gloomily. ‘I thought Azrael was supposed to be the most powerful wizard of his age but now he’s starting to sound like a mad scientist.’
‘Mad scientist?’ said Niamh, disbelievingly. ‘He’s in the process of creating the most powerful magical talisman ever and you think he’s some sort of Dr Frankenstein?’
‘Anyone who goes round using words like “wrought” in their diary is suspect in my books,’ said Grady.
Niamh gently turned another page. The smell of a thousand books in a dusty backstreet bookshop wafted over her.
‘He was obviously busy when he wrote this,’ said Niamh as she gently laid the page flat.
‘What do you mean?’ said Grady.
‘This entry is more than three months after the last one. So either he had no time to write or the pages are missing. There doesn’t seem to be anything ripped out, so he must have been obsessed with trying to create the talisman.’
‘Doesn’t it seem strange he only ever talks about one talisman?’ said Grady. ‘I thought this book was about the Twins?’
‘Shut up and read,’ said Niamh, propping her head on her hands as she began to scan the next page of carefully written script.
Truth comes in many forms. I saw today in crystal clarity the folly of my work on the talisman. After yet another failure I have finally understood that it will never be possible for my work to be complete while I force all the powers into one object. Nature works best in pairs – the hummingbird and the flower, the sun and the moon, the dark and the light, males and females. I need to
rethink my stratagem. I will start again. And this time I will not build one talisman but two. And into them I will build the power to use the four elements. Between them the Twins will balance each other and prevent the powers from obliterating each other, from one trying to gain ascendancy over the other. But to do this I will need another. I cannot do it on my own. I must ask for the Morrigan’s help and allow her to step into my wielding of the powers.
I have grown wary of her in recent weeks. Her thirst to assist seems unhealthy. There is a coveting menace in the dark of her eyes when she talks of the powers within. But there is no one else capable of managing the power needed to create the talismans. I will wait for the festival of Beltaine when her powers and mine will be as strong as possible. The movement of the seasons from dark into full light will help me focus and allow me to control her grasp of the spells necessary to carry out the work.
A nagging fear bites at me, though. I know my work will be successful but I am fearful of what I might create. The powers of Avalon will be amplified through the Twins. But how will that affect the balance of the powers between this world and the other?
The giftless across the void have no idea of the furious power that exists in their domain. And it must remain that way. We came to Avalon to prevent that power ever being used again. It nearly destroyed us in the past and we must never go back.
The elves have done their part to maintain the balance. Their guardianship over the space between the worlds is beyond contention. Their link to the creation of the space has seen to that.
But if the Twins should be used by someone without the elves’ love of the world then who knows what might be possible. Someone wielding the Twins could, conceivably, if the Twins prove as powerful as I think they will be, use the Twins to open the portals between worlds, linking the power of the old world magic to that of Avalon’s.
But I think it unlikely. I hope so. Any wizard or witch who did manage that feat would be destroyed by the flow of the power. I do not think even the Twins could allow one person to wield that much magic. I cannot be put off, though, by what may or may not happen, what could or could not be done. Great magic requires great risk. And on Beltaine I will complete the task I believe I have been anointed to complete.
Azrael's Twins and the Circle of Stone: Book Two of the Nearworld Tales Page 23