In Deep Dark Wood

by Marita Conlon-McKenna

  Rory knelt on the ground, peering over the criss-cross patterns, the curved writing and arrows, the coloured-in markings of forest and river, lake and mountain. But still he could not see what Mia was pointing to.

  ‘Look! There, Rory! You can see it.’

  Suddenly he could see it – on the map a faint, yellow four-sided cross, pointing in four directions, like the centre of a compass, was marked.

  ‘It’s between the four territories, but it could be miles away, Mia. Will we be able to manage it?’

  His sister nodded, already standing up, ready to go.

  They left the woods and forests of Arbor behind. A carved, wooden signpost on the deserted, winding path pointed them in the direction of a place called Crosswinds. They journeyed on and on, too terrified to stop.

  At Crosswinds, an enormous rocky mountain jutted up from the ground. It was so high, they couldn’t even see the top.

  ‘Well, this is it, the place marked on the map! What’ll we do now?’

  They walked around the base of the mountain. From the ground, looking up, it was the strangest thing – the jagged rocks took on the features of four huge, stone faces, each looking in a different direction: north, south, east and west.

  ‘It must be some kind of ancient monument,’ said Rory.

  ‘I wonder what they are staring at? What are they waiting for?’ asked Mia.

  ‘Perhaps we should climb it, and see where it goes!’ suggested Rory. ‘There seems to be a sort of path.’

  Mountain goats had worn a pathway upwards, over stone chippings and spiky grass, and the children stuck to it closely.

  They arrived at the top, breathless and excited. Montan, Arbor, Terra and Mare, the four territories that made up the kingdom of Aland, were spread out beneath them.

  Mia shivered. It was cold so high up, and the ground was covered with frost. The wind blew sharply around them.

  ‘I think we should stay here,’ suggested Rory. ‘Maybe there’s some way of getting back home from here!’

  The wind grew stronger around them, blowing down from the mountains, chilling their bones. Rory wondered what Conrad would have done in this situation. The wind blew stronger and stronger, forcing itself through the crevices and cracks of the carved stone until it seemed that the ancient figures were moaning, trying to tell them something.

  ‘Listen, Rory! Listen!’ shouted Mia. ‘Can you hear it! They’re talking to us.’

  Rory tried to make sense of the gusting, whistling sounds all about them.

  Mia listened intently. ‘“Tomorrow!” they said. “Tomorrow when the west wind blows!”’ she said excitedly, gripping his hand.

  Rory nodded, he had understood the word ‘west’, but little else.

  From their vantage point they spotted three dragons flying southwards, searching for them, a blaze of bright colour against the sky. Hunkering down, they hid in the shadow of the towering figures. They’d have to stay here until the next day – they didn’t dare move for fear of attracting the dragons’ attention.

  On Dragons’ Wings

  Mia’s mind was in turmoil. Naturally, she longed to return home to her mother and father and Granny and Jackie, and to go back to school and see all her friends again. But she didn’t know how she could bear to be without her young dragons, not to have Trig snuffle his snout against her hand, nor ever again to listen as Bella explained magical tricks to her. This strange, secret land had become a part of her, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to leave it. For Rory, everything was always simple and uncomplicated, but for her it was different. Magic and keeping dragons had become second nature to her, and she really wasn’t sure she wanted to give them up.

  The temperature had dropped further during the night, and they were both freezing cold and wishing they had a warm jacket or blanket. Rory had refused to light a fire, fearing it would give away their position to the vigilant dragons, so they huddled against the rocks for protection.

  The morning brought the welcome heat of the sun, and a magnificent view spread out below them. The wind was increasing, catching Mia’s hair, tossing it around, making it hard for her to catch her breath.

  ‘Look!’ whispered Rory.

  They both stared as, in the distance, two dragons, wings stretched wide, flew across the sky, the sunlight burnishing them silver and gold. Perhaps this would be the last dragon flight either of them would ever see. They watched the two dragons as, buffeted by the wind, they flew together in perfect harmony, a magnificent black … and a blue.

  ‘Rory, it’s Arznel and Trig!’

  ‘Hide!’ shouted her brother, for already the dragons were turning and flying back in the direction of Crosswinds.

  Fascinated, Mia watched as the two young dragons flew towards them. Rory pushed her onto the ground, where thick bracken and tumbling heather covered the rocks.

  The dragons circled and circled above them, calling to each other, their eyes glittering as they searched the undergrowth from on high. Then they began to descend, flying lower and lower, wings folding, until finally they thudded gently to earth.

  Mia could feel her heart thumping in her ribcage. Trig would surely hear it too. He had lifted his head and was sniffing, his snout quivering. Even in the raging wind he could smell her. Trig knew she was here.

  Mia peeped out at the dragon she cared for so much. Arznel stood behind Trig, his tail and wings rippling in the air. She wasn’t afraid, Trig wouldn’t harm her. She started to get up, but Rory flung himself at her, wrestling her onto the ground.

  ‘No, Mia!’ he pleaded, trying to keep hold of her wrist and waist. ‘Don’t be crazy!’

  ‘Let me go, Rory!’ she said, pushing him off. ‘The dragons will not harm us.’

  Rory watched, mesmerised, as his sister got up and walked calmly over to the two dragons. She petted the big black one and wrapped her arms around the smaller blue one, hugging him affectionately.

  She noticed that a small leather pouch had been fastened around Trig’s neck. She removed it and opened it up. Inside, there was a crumpled pieces of paper. As she read it, she began to look troubled. Mia stood there, forlorn, the piece of paper in her hands.

  Rory dashed forward, forgetting his fear of the dragons as Mia passed the short message to him.

  Bella is dying. You must return to Blackwell Castle. You are needed urgently. The dragons will take you. Signed, A Good Friend.

  The two of them read and reread the message, trying to make sense of it. Perhaps it was the old witch’s final trick? Or had Gwenda sent it? Could Conrad still possibly be in the castle?

  ‘It’s a trick!’ insisted Rory. ‘The witch is just trying to get you back! Don’t believe her!’

  ‘I’m going back,’ declared Mia firmly. ‘I have to. If Bella is very sick I should be with her!’

  ‘But what about going home?’ Rory could see that Mia wasn’t even listening to him. He couldn’t let her go on her own – and what if Conrad was somehow involved in all of this?

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ he said quietly.

  Delighted, Mia squeezed his hand. ‘You know we’ll have to ride on the dragons, don’t you?’

  He tried not to think about it. The dragons stood patiently, waiting for them.

  Mia pulled herself up on to Trig’s back, the small dragon kept perfectly still. Excitement sparkled and fizzed inside her – this was something she’d dreamed of doing for such a long time. Rory walked warily towards Arznel, the black dragon was much bigger than he expected. It took three attempts before he managed to climb on to its back. There were no reins or straps of any kind to hang on to, so Rory grabbed a clump of leathery dragon skin, clinging on for dear life.

  They lifted high into the air. Rory shut his eyes as Arznel, wings at full span, climbed higher and higher. The countryside fell away below them as brother and sister flew through the air on the dragons.

  Looking down on Dragon Wood, Rory realised the true majesty of its ancient trees, their waving leaves tossed by the win
d, sunlight painting them every shade of gold and green. They passed over Dwarf Vale, and Mia pointed out the various farms, and the winding ribbon of the river meandering far below them. Silver Lake, its deep waters sparkling with darting fish, glittered in the sunlight, the wind tossing and creasing the water as they flew over. Arznel was strong and carried Rory’s weight easily, flying steadily through the wind. He was a good dragon, strong and true. Trig was smaller and at times seemed buffeted by pockets of wind. But the plucky little dragon kept on flying, and Mia eyes shone with delight and pride as she held on to him.

  As they approached the stone turrets and ramparts of Blackwell Castle, the dragons began to circle, sinking lower and lower as the stone slabs of the courtyard came into view, each dragon gradually pulling in his wings and dropping his speed as he came in to land.

  ‘That was the most wonderful, special thing that has ever happened to me!’ Mia burst out, throwing her arms around Trig’s neck and kissing him. The blue dragon looked equally adoringly at her.

  Arznel stood perfectly still for Rory to dismount. The boy patted the dragon’s neck, and stroked the side of his face.

  ‘Thank you, Arznel! I will never forget this day.’

  The black dragon looked around, his green eyes meeting Rory’s, and the boy knew that this had been a special day for both of them.

  Crossing the courtyard, they approached the castle with trepidation.

  Mia led the way through the Great Hall, past the banqueting room and down into the kitchen. Gwenda was not there, though a smell of baking filled the lower half of the castle.

  ‘Come on! We’ll try upstairs!’ They took the stone steps two at a time. ‘Where’s Bella’s room?’

  Mia ran along the corridor ahead of her brother. She felt scared as she pushed open the door to the old woman’s room. Bella lay in the large four-poster bed, a small shrunken figure, her long white hair spilling across the pillow.

  ‘Is that you, child?’

  Mia ran towards the dragon woman, flinging herself across the bed. ‘I came back, Bella!’ she sobbed.

  ‘Don’t cry, magician’s daughter. I’m glad to see you! I knew if I sent Trig, he’d fetch you back.’ The old woman patted her hand on the faded dragon coverlet. ‘Sit by me, child’.

  Mia clambered up beside Bella.

  ‘I’m old … much too old, and my time is running out … none of us can live forever, no matter how powerful our magic is.’

  Tears rolled down Mia’s face.

  ‘Don’t cry, child! Are you crying for this wicked old witch who snatched you from your parents and carried you off? This sorceress who bewitched you and stole your childhood memories? This bad old Dragon Woman who shouted at you, and scolded you, and punished you, and made you work so hard and learn so much?’

  Mia nodded, unable to speak, as tears welled in her eyes. The old woman held her close, and pressed her cheek to Mia’s.

  ‘The thing is, we understand each other, don’t we, child? I had to cross over into your world to find you. I took you from your family, your good parents and that grandmother of yours, and it was a wicked thing to do. I was thinking only of myself, and of the dragons and the world that could be yours, my young apprentice.’ She stopped and looked feebly around the room. ‘That brother of yours – is he here?’

  Mia nodded.

  Rory was standing at the bottom of the bed. Beside him stood Conrad.

  ‘He is braver than most knights and dragon keepers of my acquaintance. Of course, I forgot that he too is a magician’s son.’

  Mia stroked the old woman’s hand. It felt cold and she rubbed it again, trying to warm it.

  ‘I was taken from my family when I was only five years of age and was reared with the dragons. Dracon – the Great Mage himself – made me his apprentice. I was much too young, of course. There was never time to get married or have a child, the magic was all that mattered. I have lived through many lifetimes, seen many great things, and always there has been deep magic and dragons. Their time is come again. The old ones in the wood are all dead and gone but these orphans – why, these are the finest dragons I have seen in many lifetimes! But they will need much protection and care, for always there are enemies.’

  Bella was tiring herself with talking. Her breath became uneven and her voice weakened.

  ‘I want to give you something, Mia. Gwenda will fetch it for you.’

  Leaning against the piled-up pillows, the old woman began to cough, her eyes closed in pain.

  ‘You must return to your mother. But Mia, you must remember that there is a place in both worlds for you and your brother. Gwenda has promised to look after the dragons in your absence and now that the Great Mage has returned, I know that the dragons will be protected.’

  Conrad stepped forward and kissed Bella’s hand. With tears in his eyes, he bowed his head to her.

  Mia leaned forward, concentrating hard and trying to understand all that the old woman was telling her.

  Bella drifted in and out of sleep, muttering to herself.

  ‘Soon … my time is running out … lived far too long.’

  Gradually, the old woman became peaceful, all care and worry left her worn features and she began to look beautiful, her face mirroring the face of the girl in the painting that hung across from her bed.

  Mia hugged the old woman close. She willed life into her, silently begging Bella not to die. But slowly, breath and heartbeat and life ebbed from the ancient Dragon Woman, until finally she slept, never to wake again.

  From outside in the castle’s courtyard and across the lake, there rose a great noise – one by one, the dragons began to roar. Their mournful sound echoed all through the dark woods, the ancient cry of sorrow and loss.

  The Great Mage

  Mia cried and cried after Bella’s death. Rory, Conrad and Gwenda were unable to console her. All the people of Dwarf Vale and Dragon Wood came to pay their respects to Bella Blackwell, filing past the coffin that lay, guarded by two dragons, on the table in the Great Hall. Wizards and witches and magicians from all over remembered well the old woman they called ‘the Great Sorceress.’ Bella had asked to be buried in her beloved woods. The sad band of mourners carried out her final wishes.

  Conrad had organised everything for the funeral ceremony, and when they returned to Blackwell Castle, Rory realised how well his friend had taken to running both the castle and the dragon school.

  Conrad’s jet-black hair hung loose about his shoulders and he wore a cloak of heavy purple velvet. He seemed different now, more than just a mere woodsman. But he was kindness itself to Mia and asked her to sit by him as they ate.

  Mia’s skin was pale and her eyes still red-rimmed and raw. Rory didn’t know if he was imagining it or not, but a small freckle or stain had appeared on her cheek, in the shape of a wing – a dragon’s wing.

  ‘Conrad, what did Bella mean about the Great Mage returning?’ asked Mia softly.

  Conrad looked uncomfortable, toying with the food on his plate.

  ‘Bella was talking about the most powerful magician of all, who controlled these lands and this world and, of course, the dragons.’

  ‘Do you think that he is coming back, Conrad?’

  Conrad nodded, his brown eyes serious as he answered Mia’s questions.

  ‘It is true, the old magic is born again,’ agreed Conrad. ‘You can sense it throughout the land. With the return of the dragons, the giants, dwarves and elves are all stirring too.’

  ‘I will miss Bella so much’, she said softly, ‘but I think that she didn’t mind dying because she knew that the Great Mage had already come and would take her place.’

  Conrad stared into Mia’s eyes. ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘I am saying that I have watched the dragons and how you speak to them, and how they understand what you want without you even having to say anything. I have seen how you know your way from one end of this castle to the other, and how Gwenda and the rest of the dwarves and elves bow down and
respect you. And I know that you saved my brother’s life and guarded him in the Wood and guided him safely to me.’

  ‘For one so young, you have great wisdom, now I know why Bella chose you to be her apprentice,’ replied Conrad dryly.

  Rory had no idea what Mia was going on about. He didn’t want his sister and his friend arguing and having a stupid fight.

  ‘Are you the Great Mage, the mighty magician, the dragon keeper?’ challenged Mia.

  Conrad nodded. Rory couldn’t believe it! He’d expected Conrad to throw back his head and laugh at Mia for saying such a ludicrous thing, to slap his thigh and make a joke, to stand up and protest and say Mia had got it all wrong. Instead, he sat there, nodding.

  ‘Is it true?’ demanded Rory, staring hard at his friend.

  ‘Aye, it’s true!’ said Conrad, looking him straight in the eye.

  ‘I knew it was you from the very first second I saw you!’ smiled Mia triumphantly.

  ‘I’m sorry Rory, I didn’t mean to deceive you, but out there in Dragon Wood we met as equals and I was happy to join you on your quest. I knew that Bella had taken your sister. That was why I sent the Shadow Hound to bring you across into my world.’

  ‘You brought me here!’ said Rory angrily ‘You did!’

  ‘Well, I played some part in it, but much of it you did yourself. Magic and the dragons have always been a part of my life, part of my destiny, and now they have become part of yours. With Bella’s death it is now my turn to guard Dragon Wood and to ensure that these young dragons will be safe, and that there will always be a place in the world for ancient wisdom and deep magic,’ explained Conrad.

  Rory sat down, finally ready to listen.

  ‘From the time of the great druids, my family has learned the lore of ancient magic and protected it,’ explained Conrad. ‘It was the great Dracon himself who decided to safeguard old magic and create a world where giants and dragons and dwarves and elves could all remain safe, protected from humans and from time.’

  ‘I still don’t understand,’ murmured Mia ‘Who is this Dracon? Was he your father, grandfather?’