Jeff Madison and the Shimmers of Drakmere (Book 1)

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Jeff Madison and the Shimmers of Drakmere (Book 1) Page 2

by Bernice Fischer


  “What do you mean?” the response popped up.

  “Well, he moved his head to the side. As if he was straining to hear something or someone.”

  “Jeepers, you think that mist thing is there again?”

  “I checked, but nothing, and then, just like that – Matt was quiet again.”

  “Did your mom see him?”

  Jeff sighed to himself.

  “Don’t think so, but she has been acting strangely too. Talking to herself about the forest and making fudge all the time.”

  “Jeff, honey!” His mother called him to the landing.

  “I’m heading to Aunty Alena to chat to her about Matt. And to give her some books and fudge. I should be back in about two hours.”

  “That’s cool with me, Mom,” Jeff called, leaning over the railing to see his mother’s green eyes peering up at him from the bottom of the stairs. Her long brown hair was in a loose knot on the top of her head, she was slender and wore blue jeans and a simple white T-shirt.

  “Matt’s in his room.”

  “OK, I’ll fetch him and keep him here with me, Mom. He can sleep on the sofa.”

  Jeff stayed where he was, not moving, but counting down under his breath: “Aaaand … three-two-one-and?”

  His mother’s head popped into view again. She smiled as she continued with “don’t get up to anything … Nothing … nada!”

  “Nada,” mouthed Jeff at the same time in answer to his mother’s smile.

  “You’re a good kid! Bye, honey,” she called as she closed the kitchen door and made her way to the car in the driveway.

  Jeff headed to Matt’s room. The kid was sitting in his play area, probably where their mother had left him, holding a truck and staring into space. Jeff ruffled Matt’s hair, took him by the hand and pulled him up.

  “Come on, kiddo. Let’s go to my room.” Jeff hoisted Matt over his shoulder, and with a pang he remembered how Matt always used to squeal with delight when he did this.

  Jeff settled Matt onto the sofa but almost instantly Matt was fast asleep, looking very small as he curled up against the cushions. He had his aeroplane-patterned pyjamas on. His face looked peaceful as he slept, his rosy cheeks made him look flushed.

  Jeff headed back down, not worried about the noise he was making as Matt normally slept so deeply that wouldn’t notice a tornado. Jeff sat by his computer again to carry on chatting with Rhed, who was impatiently sending him “What’s up, man?” messages.

  They talked about the school dance coming up and if it would be cool or un-cool to go, and if they did go, did they really have to ask a girl? Maybe Jessica would go with one of them, maybe she had a friend.

  Jeff was just about to tell Rhed about his new idea for their camp in the woods when he heard an odd tinkling noise from upstairs. It was a soft musical sound, yet it sounded more like broken glass in a bag, and it was coming from where he had left Matt. Jeff’s heart lurched. He jumped up and started scrambling up the stairs.

  3

  The sight that greeted him as he hit the landing stopped him in his tracks.

  What the heck?

  The bright green light was shining through the unbroken moonglow doorway, with a green beam shining directly onto Matt, who was . . . floating.

  The light glittered and sparkled around him, a light greenish mist swirling around him. Matt was floating and slowly rotating. He turned full circle to face Jeff, who realised with a shock that Matt was awake, truly awake and he was looking around him in wonder. His eyes lifted and locked onto Jeff’s eyes.

  Yes, Matt was there, displaying the childish wonder and excitement of the moment. Just then the reality of floating hit him, and he reached out to Jeff.

  Jeff shook himself out of his shock and reached out to Matt. He had to take a few steps towards him as Matt was floating closer and closer towards the window. Just as their fingers were about to touch, the glittering haze glowed so brightly that Jeff had to shield his eyes from the glare. He could just make out Matt in the haze but the light was too bright for him to look at it directly.

  The room was illuminated in green, giving it a creepy, eerie glow. Just as he was about to reach out and grab his brother regardless of the consequences, there was the splintering, shattering noise of glass breaking. Jeff’s eyes were watering from the brightness as he darted towards Matt’s shadow. It was then that he saw the glittering haze had moved Matt outside, beyond the window.

  “Maaaatt!” Jeff yelled.

  He raced to the moonglow doorway intending to jump through the door, but he bounced back against the glass. Moving his hands over the glass, he realised that the glass was not broken or open. The glittering haze was still holding Matt in its grip and was slowly lowering him to the grass below.

  Jeff gripped the handle and yanked, expecting the door to be sealed by magic or by the green light somehow, but it opened as if it was just normal door. He raced along the short balcony, almost diving onto the branch closest to the rail, slipping from one branch to the next in his desperate rush to get to the ground.

  The branches whipped at Jeff’s face and tore his clothing. His hands burnt from the roughness of the bark and the splinters, but he did not care. His only aim was to get to the ground.

  Matt and Jeff reached it together. This time Jeff did not hesitate, but rushed at his brother intending to tackle Matt right out of the strange glowing haze, just like Rhed had in the forest with the mist. Matt was still floating in the air surrounded by this strange glittering light. He did not look scared but his head was tilted to one side as if straining to hear something, and his eyes were on Jeff as if he were fully trusting his brother to get to him.

  Jeff was about two steps from Matt’s outstretched hands when he was tackled from the side. The air exploded out of his lungs from the forceful change of direction. He landed heavily on the grass, rolled twice, and stopped with his face pressed into the sweet-smelling grass.

  Jeff’s mouth gaped like a fish’s and he blinked repeatedly as he gasped for breath, having no idea what or who had hit him. He pushed himself off the ground, turning around at the same time toward the glow which held his brother captive.

  Standing between him and his brother was a dark figure with a billowing cloak. He was the same height as Jeff and standing with his back to him, facing Matt. He was whispering to Matt but his voice was too low for Jeff to hear what he was saying.

  Jeff’s heart was thumping in his chest and his mouth was dry, his breathing came out in rasps as he lunged towards his brother. “Maaatt,” roared Jeff, intending to force him out of the glow and away from the stranger, but the minute his fingers were about to touch the glow, the man put his hand out and grasped Jeff by the arm – halting him in mid flight. As the man held him aloft with one hand with unbelievable strength, Jeff pulled madly but could not break the steel grip on his arm.

  “You cannot save him,” a voice whispered. “Let him go.”

  “No! Are you mad? Let me go!” Jeff struggled.

  The man abruptly let Jeff go, and he started stumbling towards the light, yelling for all his worth. Matt had that same peculiar face again as if he were listening to something or someone that was whispering to him inside the glow.

  Jeff dived into the glow and grabbed wildly for his brother, but then the glow and mist were gone, taking Matt with it. Jeff turned around in a circle with his eyes wide. The sudden darkness was as blinding as the bright light had been.

  “YOU!” he yelled at the man. “You stay there!” Jeff tore back into the house, racing for the loft, hoping that somehow Matt had been taken back there.

  “Please let this be a dream, please let this be a dream, please let me find Matt asleep on the sofa!” he begged to no one in particular.

  He reached his room. No sign of Matt. He raced upstairs to the loft; the room was as he had left it: the moonglow doorway unbroken, and no Matt. He raced to Matt’s room, checked his parents’ room and then dashed into each room of the house. Matt was not there.
Racing back outside, breathless and terrified, he was surprised to find the man had not moved.

  “Where is he? Where is my brother? Who are you? Where is my brother?” the questions streamed out.

  The man shook his head and in that same low voice he said, “Matt has been taken to Drakmere.”

  “What? Where?”

  “Many questions I am not able to answer right now. I need to head back to the elders to advise about what transpired tonight.”

  “You don’t need to go anywhere right now,” Jeff growled. “You need to tell me what you know and where my brother is!”

  Jeff’s fingers shook as he swiped his fringe from his eyes as if this would enable him to see the man better but his face was in darkness. He could barely make out his features. The man turned a little and Jeff was struck silent by the glowing purple eyes. He stumbled back and rubbed his face. How could this be real, how could eyes be glowing that bright, and purple? He felt he was in a scene from a horror movie.

  “Time is of the essence. I need to get into council with the elders immediately, although they probably already know.” The man sighed and raised his shoulders. “But I will return. Please wait for me and I will explain what I can when I get back.”

  “When you get back? What is happening? What elders? Who are you?” demanded Jeff, breathing hard but keeping his distance from him.

  The man continued as if Jeff had not spoken. “And do not tell anyone what has happened here tonight. Be ready to leave at a moment’s notice when I get back, as we will only be able to find the doorway in the full moon. We have to leave soon if we have any chance of finding Matt.”

  “Who are you?” whispered Jeff.

  “My name is Madgwick.”

  And with that, the cloaked man reached into his pocket, with a single upward movement he tossed a small handful of silver stuff that looked like glitter into the air. The glitter floated up and as it rained down over him, the man vanished. Jeff sank to his knees, staring ahead into the darkness. And he whispered his brother’s name.

  4

  Elder Galagedra gazed at the white, glowing globe, unconsciously breathing in time to the light that pulsed from it. The rays danced as they reflected against the stone walls of the circular room.

  The globe hovered in a stone structure standing in the middle of the ancient room. It was held in place by old magic. Although the room was large, it seemed small in comparison with the overwhelming globe. It was the heart of the Sandustian kingdom; the elders were the watchers of the moon globe.

  The globe watched over the children of the earth and displayed their dreams. Mostly the dreams were pure and delightful and funny: wonderful dreams were important for a healthy, happy child.

  Now and then a shimmer of darkness would find its way to a child and the nightmares would torment him or her. The shimmer would float across the globe and the elder on watch would alert the warriors, who would vanquish the shimmer and chase the nightmares away back to where they came from, an evil place called Drakmere.

  Tonight was Galagedra’s turn to watch, and towards the top right of the glowing globe he noticed a maremist floating. Quickly he noted the time and place and then he went rigid with shock as he recognised the name.

  It was no coincidence that the maremist had appeared twice in a row in the same place: the town of Little Falls. No, there was trouble in the air and they had to act before it was too late.

  After reaching into a jar of silver moondust, Galagedra tossed a pinch of the dust into the air. The silver specks hung above him, circling, and as it drifted down, caught in his grey hair, which was tied in a neat ball in the nape of his long neck.

  “Elders,” he called, his normally soft voice booming and echoing around the chamber. The magic of the globe carried the soft yet powerful request to all the elders. It was an urgent message that only the elders would hear.

  He again threw a pinch of silver dust into the air.

  “Warriors,” he called again.

  Sitting back with a heavy heart, Galagedra waited, knowing that the calls would be answered immediately. As the dust drifted to the chamber floor, the elders began to appear, carried through space and time by the dust to take form and take their seats. Their faces were grave. It was not common to be summoned in this way and it was only in dire circumstances that the elders were called to gather.

  * * *

  Madgwick took form in the village market. A quick glance confirmed that no one had noticed his arrival.

  Just as well. I don’t really have time for chit chat.

  It was twilight. The sky danced with the golden glow of the receding day, the orange fading to the pale yellow, shading into the blue. Purple turned to black as the night snuck across the sky.

  The Sandustians were bustling around the market square, the busiest part of the village.

  The stalls were draped with the vibrant colours of sunset. Whether the stallholders liked it or not, these stalls loved to move around all by themselves. They moved around at random and once a stall was in motion, a mist would swirl inside until it had chosen its next position. The Sandustians would laugh and have a moon juice while they waited for the stall they were looking for to either reappear or for the mist to die down so that they could leave the stall they had been caught in when it decided to move.

  “Top of the day to everyone! Toffee apples?” a villager beamed. “Toffee apples for the children?”

  “Oh Roger, those look tastier than last month’s. Were they created during the full moon?”

  “No, Agneslys, these were done in a blue moon, and left to ripen. The kids will love them, and they’ll make their tongues blue too.”

  Madgwick watched a crowd of villagers gathered around the stall, all talking at once and all about their children. It was a pleasant, comfortable chaos.

  The talking and laughing villagers opened a pathway for an oncoming elder so that he could pass through. He was on his way to the Chamber and seemed to be in a rush.

  Agneslys smiled and waved at the elder and received a smile and a nod in return.

  “I wonder what is happening in the Chamber,” Agneslys asked, sipping a moon juice. “I was just talking to Elder Jozephus but he suddenly heard a call and left in a hurry. He didn’t even walk, just … dusted!”

  “Must have been something very important,” answered the stallholder, his brow creased. “If the elders are on it, it’s urgent, isn’t it?”

  Agneslys finished her juice with a “Hmmm,” just as Madgwick set off for the Chamber.

  * * *

  The elders continued to watch over the children of the world through the moon globe. Most of all they stayed on the lookout for the shimmers of darkness that slipped through from time to time to create havoc with dreams.

  Apart from the elders, there were the warriors, like Madgwick. The Earth children had a different name for them, a name that has travelled through time from legend to myth and finally into fairytale: the sandman.

  Because as all Earth children know, when they are ready to go to sleep, the sandman sprinkles sand dust into their eyes to make them sleepy, sending them on their way to happy dreams.

  * * *

  Madgwick hurried through the market, dodging between the stalls on his way to the Chamber. He carried his trusty satchel over his shoulder. He never went anywhere without it. He waved back at stall owners who shouted greetings, but he pressed on.

  When he heard the call from the elders, the urgent whisper of “warriors,” the call so strong that his hair ruffled as the wind carried the sound through the market. But because only warriors could hear this call, the folk in the market carried on as normal.

  He was mid-stride when a hand gripped his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. He looked sideways to see Angie, the witch, clutching his arm while she pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders with the other hand.

  “It has begun again, Madgwick! Remember that they don’t like water …” She squinted at Madgwick through her curly hair.r />
  Madgwick pulled up short. “Angie,” he answered. “What has begun?” He frowned. “Who does not like water?”

  But Angie had released his arm as suddenly as she had grabbed it, and was turning away muttering. No more words would Angie speak. She was already on her way.

  Okay, that was just weird, but I better remember her words, even if I don’t have a clue what she means, Madgwick made a mental note. It was not often that Angie offered wisdom and it would be very silly to ignore any advice the witch chose to give.

  Madgwick watched Angie go. She had curly hair that tumbled over her shoulders. It was a hazelnut brown with streaks of fiery red. She had high cheekbones and her large eyes were emerald green. Angie had a wide mouth with full lips and a long and slender neck. She was tall, and she would often glare down at someone, which tended to make them quiver.

  Not only was Angie the most powerful witch in Sandustian, she was also the crankiest. Give her the wrong look and you were bound to be turned into a toad. The worse the offence, the more warts she would give the toad. Although she had the power to, she never used spells that the spell-weavers could not easily undo and it was common to see a warty toad or two hopping to find a spell weaver after a run-in with Angie.

  Madgwick ran up the last few steps towards the oak doors of the Chamber. The wood was carved with the magical moon runes, which moved and changed constantly, sometimes advising on events still to happen, sometimes recalling past events.

  The keeper of runes sat by the door, noting all the changes as they appeared and disappeared. He looked up at Madgwick, his mouth turned down and his eyebrows lowered.

  “The runes foretold of your haste. Enter, they await,” he said and stepped aside leaving the doorway open for Madgwick.

  Behind Madgwick the chamber door opened once more. Hearing the footsteps behind him, Madgwick looked over his shoulder. He grimaced as the warriors filed into the chamber and took their seats in the rows behind the seated elders. It was not often that the warriors were requested to gather in the Chamber.

 

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