“Well, well, well,” Balfour said, releasing the grip around the boy’s throat. “So you are the key. Now that makes things a bit tricky. How do I use you to unlock my book?”
“You’ll never find out,” rasped Tom.
“Magic can only be destroyed by casting it back into the fires from whence it came,” Balfour reasoned. “Therefore if you were to die, perhaps the magic of the key would flow back into the book where it belongs.
“Would that work, witch? Is that how the key works?”
“I en’t telling you nothing you evil beggar,” said Rita defiantly.
Balfour placed his boot on Maya's outstretched hand as she tried to raise herself up off the floor. She shouted in pain.
“Seer, search the witch’s mind and tell me the truth.”
“Yes,” said Marj ashamedly. “You are right.”
“Excellent,” Balfour grinned. “I will make it nice and quick. Well, not too quick. More haste, less speed, eh.”
He pointed his wand at Tom, but before he could utter an incantation, a ball of fur, claws and teeth, launched itself from the shadows, where it had been creeping. Hissing and spitting, it landed in Balfour’s face, digging its needle-sharp claws in and hanging on tight as the man screamed in pain.
“Go on, Frank,” encouraged Rita. “I knew he was on a roll. The little beggar got that cuckoo in my clock this morning.”
Frank’s attack, as well as inflicting a multitude of lacerations on Balfour’s face and neck, also wiped every bit of concentration from his mind. All his spells began to dissipate. Val and Garren regained consciousness, though it took a while to shake off the horrors they had been forced to endure. Rita and Albert were free of their invisible prison, and Tom was released from the vice-like grip throttling him.
Balfour managed to fight off the cat, who ran for cover behind Rita, standing with her arms folded and her handbag hanging from her arm's crook, looking stern. He grabbed his wand and scrambled to his feet, waving it threateningly. Then he noticed Tom.
When Frank had attacked, Balfour had dropped both his wand and the book. Once free of the hex, Tom picked up the book and was standing next to the Well of Fire, looking at the old leather cover.
“Give me the book, boy!” Balfour demanded, ignoring the blood trickling down his face.
“I can’t allow you to get your hands on this ever again,” Tom said quietly. “These people deserve to be free, and that will never happen while you have this.”
“Just pass it to me,” Balfour coaxed brandishing his wand. “I’ll send you home. I promise, just carefully pass it to me.”
“I have to stop you,” Tom said, his tone strangely detached as if for the first time he understood why he had been brought here. “I am here to stop you. That is what I must do.”
Balfour shrieked with horror as Tom dropped the book into the well and watched it fall through the rising smoke and into the blackness.
Balfour staggered back in disbelief, “What have you done?” he shrieked.
“Saved the world from you,” Tom answered.
“I’m going to kill you,” Balfour growled. He raised his wand, and before anyone could stop him shouted, “Obliteratum!”
Albert and Rita watched from by the steam engine. Maya and her mother watched from the corner by the broken door, and Garren and Valcris watched from the chancel, all helpless as the stream of destructive red light shot from the shining gem at the end of Balfour’s wand and hit the young boy, square in the chest.
The obliteration spell, when correctly performed, will tear apart every molecule of anything in its path, but as the spell hurtled towards the boy, a shimmering cloud of golden light rose from the well, enveloping him in its ghostly haze. Balfour’s spell sparkled and fizzed where it struck Tom and was reduced to a cloud of fine black dust that drifted harmlessly to the floor.
The haze of light that engulfed Tom was gradually being absorbed by his body, seeping in through every gap in the fibres of his clothes, no matter how small, till all that was left of it were two brightly glowing golden eyes.
“No!” Balfour screamed, casting his spell again.
Tom raised his hand, and a concentrated burst of golden light emanated from his finger and sliced easily through the red beam heading for him, reducing it to the same black dust as before. The golden light hit Balfour, shattering the crystal in his wand and sending the incredulous sorcerer flying the entire length of the nave, landing unconscious by the splintered door.
Gradually the bright light died in Tom’s eyes, and they returned to normal. He looked for his friends. Garren and Valcris, now free of the roots that bound them to the floor, and Albert and Rita stared uncertainly back at him.
“What just happened?” Valcris asked.
“I have no idea,” Garren replied. “But Tom just sacrificed his only chance of getting home to free us all.”
“Bless my soul,” Albert said. “A true hero and no mistake.”
“Tom, are you alright?” Garren asked, going over to the dazed boy and putting his arm around his shoulder.
“I don’t know,” Tom said. “I feel strange.”
“Well, of course, you feel strange,” Rita said. “You en’t the same lad as you was a few minutes ago. I’ve read about this sort of thing happening in the ancient scrolls, but I never thought I would see the day.”
“What has happened to him?” Garren asked.
“That was no ordinary book he threw in the well. It contained all the mystical power of Illemborn,” Rita began. “It was not written by mortal hand. After the war with Baphomet, the Ancients summoned the Great Dragon and told her what had happened and of their fears of the same thing happening again.
“Illemborn listened to their concerns and then flew high into the sky to look at the world and its people. When she saw that there were people who were wrong ‘uns and wanted to cop the most powerful magic to give ’em power and wealth, it right upset her.
“She returned to the elders what summoned her and told ’em to bind together sheets of the finest parchment into a book bound with the toughest leather. Into this book’s empty pages, she whispered her magic.
‘This world was the first world,’ she told ’em. ‘All the magic in the universe emanates from here. This mystical Tome, will be a sentinel and keep safe within its pages the most potent magic, magic that could be corrupted for evil. There it will remain unless a quorum of the truest of you allow the magic to be used.
‘But, never allow the followers of darkness to take possession of the Tome, or it will lead to a millennia of suffering and the eventual destruction of all creation. The Tome will endure so guard it well.’ And with that, she disappeared into the stars and en’t been back’ ere since.”
“But how does that explain what happened to Tom?” Garren asked.
“Eee, you en’t the shiniest spoon in the drawer, are you?” sighed the witch. “The dragon said that the book would endure. It will survive. Look after itself, or the magic it contained will at any rate.
“When young Tom, there, committed a truly selfless act and chucked the book in the well to save the world, the magic transferred itself into the nearest and purest thing it could find. Him. And as he already contained the key to the secrets, he’s become the sentinel and the quorum in one. He is now the guardian of all magic.”
“Me!” Tom exclaimed. “I can’t. I’m just...a kid.”
“You is a lot more now, nipper,” Rita said. “You could say the Mystical Tome is now the Mystical Tom. Hee, hee, I likes that.”
“Rita, can you explain exactly what is this key that Tom holds?” Valcris asked.
“The key is the wisdom of the elders,” Rita said. “When the last of the Ancients were here, in this old monastery, they knew that soon there would not be enough of them to maintain a quorum and the secrets of the Tome would be lost. They did not want that to happen, because they foretold a time when the power of the Tome would be needed to save the world. Likewise, they did not
want to leave the Tome's secrets where they could be found and used by bad uns. So they took the wisdom which was spread between the members of the ruling council, forged it together and sent it far away where no one would know what it was or where it belonged, and there it found a being who was pure of heart and was passed down through the generations to only the worthiest of descendants.”
“But why me?” Tom said softly.
“What you just did, is why you,” Rita answered. “The pure heart.”
“So that’s that then,” Albert said cheerily. “The darkness foretold by the Ancients has been defeated by a young Knight, everyone is safe, and we can get back to normal.”
“The darkness comes ever closer,” said the seer. She had been untied by Maya and approached the group by the well. “A torment approaches, the like of which has never been seen before and we will pay dearly for it.”
“I know, Marj,” Rita said. “I’ve felt it too, deep in me old bones.”
“But it’s over, surely,” Albert said. “We have the bounder.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you,” Rita said, pointing at the empty doorway where Balfour had come to rest.
“Where did he go?” Garren said.
“Slippery little beggar, ain’t he,” said the witch. “Still he shouldn’t be too much trouble now his focal stone has gone.”
“What will I do now?” Tom asked dejectedly.
“Well pretty much anything you bloomin’ well wants, I should imagine,” Rita said. “You got all that magical power inside you, all you got to do is work out how to use it, and you can only do that for yourself.”
“So if I want to go home, I can?” Tom cheered up.
“Balfour used the book to open the portal to your world, now that power is in you,” Garren reminded him. He patted the boy on the shoulder and walked off in the direction of the secret doorway in the wooden panelling.
“Where are you going?” Tom asked.
“I’m going to get my crystal back,” he replied and disappeared into the dark passage.
“And I’m going to find a nice goblet of wine,” Rita said. “There’s got to be some around here somewhere. Come on, Albert, give us an ’and to find the kitchen.”
Maya and her mother were talking quietly at the end of the hall. Tom flopped down on the steps of the chancel, Val came and sat next to him.
“You did it,” he said.
“Fluke,” Tom replied.
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Val said. “There were songs sung about you ten generations before you were even born. I know, I was there, singing them along with the rest.”
“But you heard Maya’s mum and Rita,” Tom said, troubled. “They said there is worse to come and it’s bound to involve me now I’ve got that book stuck inside me. I don’t want to fight.”
“Very few do,” said Val. “But take one day at a time, learn to use your power and always remember, you have made some good friends and as long as you keep them close you will never have to face anything alone.”
Tom looked at his pale companion, knowing that beyond the youthful face lay centuries of experience, and he felt proud that this creature had called him a friend.
Chapter 16
Home
Twenty minutes later, when Garren returned with his crystal, he found a table had been set in the Well Chamber, and Rita, Val, Albert and Tom were sat enjoying some fresh bread and cheese and warm spiced mead in the pleasant warmth emanating from the Well of Fire. Maya had gone to help her mother collect her belongings from the dark room at the back of the monastery where she had been held since being kidnapped by the Guardians several days ago. Maya still felt responsible for the horrid things that had happened to Tom and the others, so was pleased for an excuse to keep out of the way.
“Albert,” Garren said ravenously tucking into a chunk of the crusty bread. “What made you come crashing through the doors when you did?”
“Well, my boy,” the old man began. “You have Rita to thank for that really. She called me on that mirror contraption and told me you were going to get yourselves into a spot of bother and would need our help. Fortunately, I had just finished fitting my ‘tireds’ to the road train. By the way young Tom, that was an inspired idea you had there. I inflated tubes of thick rubber and secured them to the wheels with metal bands. Wonderful. So much quieter and it’s not such a bumpy ride now.”
“It’s Marj, you have to thank, not me,” Rita added. “She managed to send a message to my Witch’s Crock. That’s when I called Albert, and we came puffing to the rescue.”
“How did you get the drawbridge down?” Val asked.
“Little things like drawbridges don’t slow witches down for long, deary,” Rita chuckled. “Thought the Guardians would have been a bit of a problem though.”
Garren filled Rita and Albert in on the departure of Balfour’s army of gord and Guardians and how Lyca and Dan had followed.
“I wonder what happened to them monkey chappies that went with ’em,” Rita mused. “All the Guardians here have gone back to normal now Balfour has lost his power.”
“I wonder what has happened to Balfour,” Val said. “I would be much happier if he were under lock and key, where we could keep an eye on him.”
Everyone nodded their agreement.
“Still, he wouldn’t be a match for our young hero, here. Eh, lad?” Albert said.
“You have been very quiet, Tom,” Garren said. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Tom said. “Just trying to get my head around everything. Three days ago, I was an ordinary guy having a laugh with my mates, and now I am supposed to be some sort of master of magic. How am I supposed to decide what magic is too dangerous to be used if I don’t even know anything about it in the first place? How do I stop bad magic from being used?” He looked desperately at Garren for answers. “I just want to be normal again.”
Garren felt pangs of sympathy towards the confused boy, understanding his anxiety. “Sometimes, people are put into situations which they never sought and certainly did not desire. It is how we handle these situations that define us, and it is often the case that the least likely of people, when placed in these positions, discover qualities they never knew they possessed and excel. The magic knew you were a morally upright person, who would never put your own interests above those of others. That is why it knew the key was safe in you. It also knew that you would be able to continue the work of the Tome, or it would not have transferred its power to you.
“You may not know your own potential, but you may be certain that the magics do.”
“As for not knowing anything about magic,” Rita added. “You have a try. Wouldn’t surprise me a bit if you could turn this loaf of bread into a dish of sweeties. Go on, have a go.”
“That’s not a good idea,” Tom said. “I usually go a bit over the top, when I try magic.”
“If I got the right end of me broomstick, I think you will find it a whole lot easier to control your power now,” Rita grinned and winked at him.
Tom paused for a moment to clear his mind and found that he now possessed a strange clarity of thought. He was able to push everything else to one side and see what he wanted to do as clearly as if it was in front of him. In his mind’s eye, he saw the loaf of bread slowly transform into a silver dish brimming with coloured sweets. His pendant gave out a pulse of light that travelled down his arm to his hand. With a light touch of this finger, the loaf morphed into the silver dish of goodies.
“Ooo,” Rita cooed, “Hummingbugs, my favourite.” She helped herself to one and tipped the rest into her handbag. “See I told you. Easy now, en’t it?”
“Well,” said Garren getting up from the table. “Now we are all fed and rested, I think it’s about time we turned our attention to getting you back home. I believe it is a special day in your world, too, and we have a lot of work ahead of us. All the mess that Balfour has made has to be sorted out.”
Everyone got up and fol
lowed Garren into the courtyard where the dark sky was filled with bright stars and the snowfall from earlier that day had only a set of tyre tracks to spoil its even surface.
“It will be dawn in a couple of hours,” Garren observed. “Let’s see if we can get you home before the world’s wake up.”
“What do I do?” Tom asked excitedly.
“You have to look deep inside yourself and find the power that has been bestowed on you, then use it to imagine a gateway that leads you home. It is up to you; no one can help you do it.” Garren told him.
Tom cleared his mind as before and concentrated on his home and his family. He imagined a gate and walking through it. But somewhere inside him, self-doubt raised its head and whispered into the back of his mind, telling him that punching a hole from one universe to another was quite different from transforming a loaf of ‘bread into a bowl of sweets. He tried to ignore the voice and instead touched his gemstone for reassurance.
Out of nowhere, the incantation presented itself to him, and with perfect pronunciation, he said, “Patefacio!” The stone glowed, and from it, a ray of yellow light radiated out to a distance of about ten feet. It grew into a ball of light, fed by the stream from the pendant. Tom heard the same electrical crackling sound and felt the same gust of wind that he had experienced in the copse, just before being transported here. But as his excitement grew, the light diminished and faded away.
“Nice try, sonny,” Rita encouraged.
“It’s too big,” he said sadly. “I can’t do it.”
“Can’t do, won’t do,” Rita said. “Old Balfour didn’t have half the power as you’ve got and he managed it.”
“You have to believe you can do it,” Garren said.
Tom tried again, but this time the light faded even before the wind had managed to work itself into much more than a light breeze.
“It’s no use,” Tom said, dejected.
“Oh, might as well give up then,” Rita said and turned away. “Come on, Albert, you can give me a lift home. Frank, come on, we’re going.”
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