Behind the Sorcerer's Cloak

by Andrea Spalding

I do.

  Can you get it?

  No. Only the Myrddin can handle his staff. Or someone chosen by him.

  Could a Magic Child get it?

  That is the simplest way.

  Adam can’t. He was the Magic Child chosen by Myrddin, but he’s been caught. We need the staff to help him.

  That is correct, child.

  I’m a Magic Child too. Could I get it?

  You could. The staff is safe. It lies where Zorianna discarded it, within the secret passages ’neath Pheric’s Castle. If you have the courage to face those who reside there, the staff will allow the touch of a Magic Child. But you must never wield it. Only the Myrddin can wield his staff.

  How do I go to the passages?

  Like this… Chantel heard Manannan take a deep breath and blow.

  The bedroom filled with a whirling wind that surrounded, lifted and swept her away.

  The wind set her down gently.

  Everything was black. Ahh, her eyes were closed. Chantel opened them. Everything was still black.

  She shivered. It was one thing to have an idea. It was quite another to carry it out.

  She didn’t dare move, not knowing what was around her. She stood still in the endless darkness.

  She became aware of sounds, normal sounds. First, she heard waves in the distance. They pounded and hissed regularly as though beating against rock. They reminded her of a dream that had brought comfort. Chantel smiled slightly. “Hello, Gaia’s heartbeat,” she whispered. Her fear receded a little—water was part of the Lady’s magic.

  Her heart lightened.

  The second sound she identified was more water. It dripped as though from the roof of a cave or passage and she became aware of the walls of rock around her, enclosing her, but also protecting her and providing a firm foundation for her feet.

  The muffled cries of gulls also brought comfort. She knew where she was now, in a passage beneath the castle on Pheric’s Isle. She pictured the gulls wheeling above the walls.

  Chantel breathed more easily. She was surrounded by three symbols of Earth Magic, and if she kept light in her heart, she had the fourth.

  “I must remember the light,” she whispered. Her words echoed softly down the passage. “I must remember the light,” she said again, more firmly. “Earth is below me, water is around me, air is above me and I hold light in my heart.”

  On the floor in front of her, a tiny gleam broke the darkness.

  Chantel bent and picked it up. It was a hair, a glowing white hair: a tiny light in a great dark. She held it high.

  “I have light,” she said, confidently.

  “You chose light,” a voice answered. A white shape moved toward her.

  “Manxie.” Chantel held out her arms, and the cat leapt into them. “You’re part of the light. You’re part of Earth Magic.”

  “I am Earth Magic.” The cat purred and nuzzled her cheek. “And you have chosen to follow the light. Keep my hair. You may use it again. Come, follow me.”

  “All right,” said Chantel, joy in her voice.

  “You will have to let me go,” said the cat with a slight sniff.

  Chantel chuckled and relaxed her arms.

  The cat sprang down and walked ahead, her fur’s soft light illuminating the passage.

  Chantel followed through the twists and turns of the secret way.

  The cat sat. “We are here.”

  “Where?” said Chantel.

  “At the place where Zorianna discarded the staff.”

  Chantel shuddered. “I don’t want to meet Zorianna.”

  “She’s not here,” said the cat dismissively. “Only the staff.”

  Chantel peered into the darkness. She saw nothing.

  “The staff is hiding. You must find it.”

  “Staff,” Chantel called, not knowing what else to do, “I’m a Magic Child, a friend of Myrddin’s. I’ve come to take you back to him.”

  Nothing stirred.

  Chantel tried again. “Staff, Adam unlocked you from the Crystal Cave. I’m his sister, Chantel.”

  No response.

  Chantel considered the problem. She needed Earth Magic to locate the staff. She didn’t have water or a candle or anything to do a ritual. The only thing she could use was her voice. Equus had said it was her magic tool.

  She tried Holly’s chant.

  “Earth support me,

  Air surround me,

  Fire enlighten me

  Water cleanse me.”

  “Earth support me,

  Air surround me,

  Fire enlighten me,

  Water cleanse me.”

  The darkness lightened slightly, a feeling of peace surrounded her, but the staff did not betray its presence.

  Chantel tried again. She voiced the chant they had learned in Avebury.

  “Light and Dark, Dark and Light,

  Sun by day, Moon by night,

  Man and woman, adult, child,

  Bird and beast both tame and wild,

  Past and present, far and near,

  Patience, anger, hope and fear,

  Frantic movement, contemplation,

  The Dance of Stones, a celebration!” she finished.

  The cat purred and wove around her ankle.

  The staff remained hidden.

  “Nothing’s working, Manxie,” said Chantel. “Equus is my Wise One, not Myrddin. I don’t know how to call things for Myrddin. Oh, Equus, I wish you were here to help.” She tried sending mindspeak. Please, Equus, talk to me. Can’t you help? Can’t you hear me?

  Silence.

  What’s wrong with everyone? Talk to me, Equus. I know you’ve gone to Barrule. I heard you galloping there.

  More silence.

  Chantel stamped in frustration. She sent out a general blast of mindspeak.

  Equus, Ava, Myrddin, Manannan…Please…someone answer me?

  I am the only one who can hear, Child. A web protects Pheric’s Isle’s magic realm. Only my magic can freely flow through it.

  Manannan. Thank goodness! Can you help me?

  I can try, Child. What is your need?

  How do I call Myrddin’s staff?

  I have heard Myrddin call up his magic with a verse. Try it, Child, then use your own words.

  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.

  Thank you, Manannan! Thank you. Chantel sent a wave of gratitude and returned to her task.

  She began to chant…

  “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…

  In Myrddin’s name I call you, staff. Myrddin needs you. Please let me take you to him.”

  The staff flew out of the darkness, its tip shining like a shooting star.

  Chantel’s hand shot up and caught it. The staff shook and quivered at her touch, and settled into the crook of her arm.

  “Thank you, Manannan. And thank you, Manxie, for bringing me here.” Chantel bent to stroke the cat. “Can we go back to Myrddin now?”

  A loud rumbling growl startled her.

  The cat sat.

  “Is that a dog?” Chantel peered through the darkness.

  The growl rumbled again, and two red eyes blinked at Chantel’s knee level.

  “You’re a very black dog,” said Chantel. “I can’t see your body at all.” She chuckled. “You must be as dark as the darkness.”

  She heard a faint sound as though a large furry animal was stirring. A scrabble of claws on rock sounded as though it was rising to its feet. The eyes blinked again, this time level with Chantel’s head.

  The growl was a loud ominous rumble.

  “Goodness,” said Chantel. “You’re humongous. Why are you so scared of me?” she chuckled. “You shouldn’t be. I’m just a kid, and you’re so big.”
She paused as she remembered something Holly had told her. “Are you the Black Dog that helps protect the Lady? The one Holly heard in her dream?”

  The growl died away. The darkness stirred and snuffled.

  “Here, dog, smell me.” Chantel held out her free hand. “I’m a friend. I’m one of the Magic Children come to help the Lady. I’m taking Myrddin’s staff back to him.”

  A cold nose sniffed Chantel’s hand. A wet lick followed.

  Chantel laughed and dried off her hand on her pants.

  “I’ve never seen that before,” said the cat stiffly. “He’ll be turning white if he’s not careful. Come!” She stood, skirted around the Moddy Dhoo and resumed her journey.

  Chantel followed but kept turning to look. She could sense the Moddy Dhoo padding at her heels, but he stayed blended with the dark.

  Finally the cat stopped. “This was your place of arrival, child, so it is your place of departure. Remember, you may need my light again.”

  Chantel stroked the cat’s head. “Thanks for your help, Manxie. I’d have been really scared without you.”

  A low whine sounded behind her. Chantel turned and put out her hand. “Thank you too, Black Dog. I’m glad we made friends. I’ll tell Myrddin you’re still protecting the Lady.” She felt rough fur against her palm and patted it.

  Manannan, are you there? I have the staff.

  So I see. There was amusement in Manannan’s voice. You chose the Light and tamed the Dark. You have useful talents, child.

  Chantel smiled, not sure what he meant. I like dogs and cats. I like all ani… The wind blew and swirled her away.

  She landed with a bump in the bedroom.

  Chantel walked into the living area. “Here—stop arguing everyone.” She held out the staff to Myrddin.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ________________________________

  FRIENDS AND ENEMIES

  Myrddin and Holly stopped talking and stared at Chantel.

  Chantel was no longer the worried waif from the morning. She beamed from ear to ear as she held the staff.

  Myrddin gave a roar of delight. He leapt out the chair, enfolded Chantel in a gigantic hug and stretched out his arm.

  With a spit and a crack, the staff leapt toward him. The crystal at the tip sparked with the fiery light of a magnificent diamond as the shaft slammed into his palm.

  Myrddin seemed to grow. His red hair and beard crackled with static electricity. His dark cloak swirled with the million hidden colors of magic. The Myrddin was whole again.

  “Myrddin’s st—staff was in our bedroom? I don’t believe it!” stuttered Holly.

  Chantel emerged laughing from the tangle of cloak, staff and beard. “You should see your face.” She went into a fit of giggles, but shook her head. “Course it wasn’t in the bedroom. I did what you said, Holly. I did mindspeak and Earth Magic while you were all arguing. I spoke to Manannan, and he took me to the secret passages where the staff was hiding. The white cat showed me the way. The staff let me hold it, and I made friends with a big black dog. Manannan brought me back.”

  “Just like that?” said Holly.

  “Pretty much,” said Chantel.

  Myrddin laughed till his eyes streamed with tears. “Oh dear, dear, dear. The innocence of the young makes a fool out of the wisdom of the ancients. I knew Manannan was keeping the staff safe. If I wasn’t so distracted I would have realized all we had to do was ask. Well done, Chantel. Well done.”

  He stroked his staff and murmured something under his breath. The staff transformed into a large but normal-looking walking stick.

  “Why are you disguising it?” said Chantel. “Aren’t you going to use it, Myrddin? Please fix everything. Rescue Adam and magic everything else right.”

  Myrddin sobered up. “I will try, Little One. You have helped make us stronger. But we must keep my staff hidden for now. The Dark Being must not know you have retrieved it. As long as she thinks she can find our tools for herself she will not be in a rush to invade and destroy everything. If she realizes the tools are found, she will have nothing to lose and will confront us. We need time. Time to restring the necklace and waken the Lady. Time to rescue Adam and to fix whatever is wrong with Ava…” He stopped, seeing Chantel’s happiness fade away. “Have faith, Little One. Keep the light in your heart. You have tipped the odds in our favor…”

  With a clatter and a shout, Owen erupted into the holiday flat, closely followed by a harassed-looking Mr. Smythe.

  Owen had cobwebs in his hair and smudges of dust on his face and clothes. He was waving an old wooden board in the air.

  “Holly, Holly, you’re gonna love this…” Owen brandished the board again. “I found the entrance to a secret passage in the cellar, and look what was inside…” Owen flashed the board at Mr. Smythe. “They’re runes, aren’t they?”

  Mr. Smythe peered over his glasses. “They certainly are.”

  “I knew it,” said Owen with great satisfaction. He thrust the board into Holly’s hands. “You know what this is, don’t you? It’s that board you saw in your dream, the one with Breesha’s name on it. It was in the secret passage…” He ran out of breath.

  Owen rushed over to the sink in the galley kitchen, turned on the water and stuck first his mouth, then his face and head under the tap.

  Holly laid the board on the table.

  Owen re-joined them, shaking drips from his hair and wiping his mouth in his sleeve. “Fantastic, isn’t it?”

  “Owen! Go drip somewhere else.” Holly held him at arm’s length. “What makes you think this is the board from my dream? I know it looks old, but any one could scratch runes on an old piece of wood. It could be a joke. Or something for the Viking festival we’ve seen posters about, or…”

  Owen bent down and shook his hair, wiped the drips from his face with his hands, and wiped his hands on the seat of his pants. “No, no, you don’t get it. I asked Earth Magic to help me find the secret passage, and part of the cellar wall collapsed…”

  Myrddin, Holly and Chantel gave a shout of laughter.

  Mr. Smythe looked appalled.

  “…and the board was by the entrance. I knew it was a magic board. Mr. Cubbon did too, but he won’t tell. The runes were glowing in the dark. Mr. Cubbon distracted everyone so I could hide the board under my T-shirt before anyone else saw it. He helped me sneak it up here…”

  Mr. Smythe moaned. “The landlord. What will the landlord say?”

  “Don’t worry about him,” said Owen, laughing. “He’s as pleased as punch. He says the passage will put him on the tourist map. He’s already phoned the museum. There’s a whole bunch of people down there now with torches and hard hats, exploring where it goes.” His voice grew frustrated. “They won’t let me go with them, in case it’s not safe.”

  Holly wasn’t listening. Gently she drew one finger over each rune, tracing them.

  Chantel nudged Owen and pointed.

  As Holly’s finger passed, the runes shimmered for a moment, as though touched by sunlight.

  “It is the magic board,” whispered Holly.

  Everyone pored over it.

  “Runes are just scratches,” said Chantel, disappointed.

  “That’s right. That’s how they were invented,” said Mr. Smythe. His voice was animated. Here was something he understood. “Runes developed from lines scratched on wood, to keep count of simple things: baskets of fish, or a number of days. Eventually they became more elaborate. People added cross lines so individual runes developed special meanings. An alphabet was developed, but because so few people could read it, it began to be used as a magical code.”

  Mr. Smythe took out his pencil and notebook and began scribbling.

  “What does this say?” asked Chantel.

  Mr. Smythe tore a page. “Here’s the Futhark, work it out.”

  “Futhark?” chorused the cousins. They giggled.

  Mr. Smythe laughed. “F, U, Th, Ar, K. The name comes from the sounds made by first five runes
just like alphabet comes from the first two letters in our Greek alphabet:

  Alpha, Beta.”

  Holly chuckled. “Yup, we all knew that!”

  They pored over the scrap of paper.

  “It start’s with a K.”

  “This letter’s U.”

  “Two L’s are next.”

  “Is this A or Y?”

  “N.”

  “KULLYN.”

  “Is it a name?” said Holly doubtfully.

  “It’s either Welsh or Manx,” said Mr. Smythe. “I think it would be written Cullyn with a C in today’s alphabet, and pronounced Hoolin.” He paused and scratched his head. “I’ve come across it before, but I don’t remember what it means. I’d have to look it up.”

  Myrddin clapped his hand on Mr. Smythe’s shoulder. “Well, well, well. Holly was right, my friend. You have a role here.”

  “I…I do?”

  “The museum is across the road. Instead of coming to Barrule with us, use your research skills to see if you can find reference to a rune board, or if the word Cullyn crops up in the history of Peel or Pheric’s Isle.”

  Mr. Smythe looked like a condemned man with a reprieve. “I don’t have to go through the dratted portal? I can stay here and research in the museum?”

  Myrddin eyes twinkled. “You most certainly can.” He gathered the children together with a movement of his arms. “I will take the children, but we will meet back here for tea at five o’clock and have an early night…” He stopped and looked over to Mr. Smythe.

  “SMYTHE, are you listening?” he roared.

  Startled, Mr. Smythe dragged his attention away from the rune board. “Er…what was that…er…five for tea? Well, yes, of course.” He turned back to the board.

  Shaking his head, Myrddin marched down the corridor and opened the door into the street. Fog billowed in. He disappeared within its folds.

  “Wait for us!” called Owen. “Bye, Mr. Smythe.”

  The three children rushed out, banging the door behind them.

  Mr. Smythe was left at the table, gazing at the board. “Magic runes. How marvelous,” he whispered. “What a day, what a day.”

  Adam surfaced gradually from his long heavy sleep, into a place of grayness. He had no idea if it was day or night, or even where he was.