Jeff Madison and the Shimmers of Drakmere (Book 1)

by Bernice Fischer

  Madgwick made his way down the wide staircase that led down to where the globe was still pulsating and glowing. He glanced up at the high ceilings with their archways: windows of the night. The stars and planets twinkled brightly, it was always night time in the Chamber of Sandustian.

  Inside, the Chamber was a pearly white colour and the air itself sparkled and glittered, splashing prisms of colour onto the walls. Silver moon-shaped cushions floated inches above the benches. The cushions took whichever form they wished, full or half moon and sometimes even a sliver of a crescent moon.

  There was a musical hush to the room and Madgwick could always smell the distinct scent of pine and cinnamon. No one experienced the same sound or smell. The magic of the Chamber affected everyone differently.

  Madgwick strode silently down the aisle until he reached the front row where the globe hovered. He noted with a shock that all twelve elders were already seated and talking quietly among themselves.

  Madgwick watched while the warriors filed down and took their seats while some of the cushions, being in a playful mood, darted away from some of the younger warriors and started cushion fights, forcing them to duck and dive, as they tried to catch the cushions while being pelted from all sides.

  The warriors were all shapes and sizes, some tall, some short, some thin and others hefty. The younger warriors, like Madgwick, looked liked teenagers and some appeared decades old with sun-kissed faces that were lined with wrinkles. But all the warriors looked brave and all had purple eyes.

  The depth of purple of their eyes indicated the level of experience of each warrior. New warriors had very light eyes while the oldest warriors’ eyes had already turned deep purple.

  Each warrior had a role to fulfil but not every warrior’s duty included fighting with shimmers.

  Once all the warriors were seated, Galagedra lifted his arms and a hush fell over the room.

  Galagedra’s square face was brushed with wisdom. Deep grooves ran from his cheeks down to his chin. Unlike the warriors’ purple eyes, Galagedra’s were a deep shade of blue, and were surrounded by wrinkle lines that criss-crossed and deepened when he smiled. He looked stern but when he laughed his face softened and his eyes brightened and glowed.

  Like most of the elders, Galagedra was tall and slender, and his movements were graceful and purposeful. He wore the Sandustian elders’ robe of midnight blue and a bright yellow sash around his waist.

  Madgwick watched Galagedra’s eyes roam over the warriors. He could sense this sent a shiver up many a warrior’s back. The elders were formidable and not to be trifled with.

  “Welcome, our great elders, welcome, our strong warriors,” began Galagedra, his voice booming.

  All eyes locked on him.

  “Recently a maremist entered through a crack in our defences and attacked a young child. Inside this maremist, a trance spell was hidden.” Galagedra cleared his throat. “The spell was completed when the child was touched by a full moonbeam. This child has found himself in a moontrance ever since.”

  There was a collective gasp from the warriors.

  “Our spell weavers have been working frantically on a spell to release the child from this moontrance. However, the spell is complicated, as it needs to be cast and woven in a full moonbeam. This means we have tonight only!”

  Many pairs of eyes darted around the room, and Madgwick felt his mouth go dry.

  “We had hoped that perhaps the child had wandered unknowingly into the path of the maremist. We, however,” and he nodded to the elders, “knew there was a chance that this was something more, something we have been vigilantly watching for over the years.”

  Galagedra paused. He closed his eyes a moment. He raised his head to look at each of the elders, who were watching him gravely.

  “Elders.”

  He began again, steeling his voice. The sooner the facts were told, the sooner they could start working on the best plan to save the child.

  “Elders, the maremist returned to the town of Little Falls tonight. Not more than a few moments ago, the child that was caught in the moontrance …” He dropped his shoulders, his voice cracked as he took a deep breath and then softly continued, “this child has been taken by the darkness. Our fears have been confirmed that the child has been taken to Drakmere.”

  The gasp was audible and the muttering renewed, and a few elders cried out in horror. When the muttering became louder and louder, Galagedra lifted his tired hands to call for silence.

  “Madgwick the Warrior was in Little Falls when the maremist passed. Once we have heard his tale, we will decide on the best course forward.”

  Galagedra fell silent as around him the muttering and humming started up again, filling the Chamber as all the elders started talking at once, some to each other, some to no one in particular. At the same time it seemed to Madgwick that a hundred pairs of eyes were locked on him.

  Galagedra spoke up. “Madgwick, would you please tell us what you witnessed?”

  Madgwick drew in a deep breath. It was overwhelming to see all the elders in their places and the warriors seated behind them, faces all grave, watching him. Madgwick lifted his head. Staring ahead but not looking at any one elder directly, he began.

  “I was in the forest that surrounds Little Falls. Twilight was approaching, bedtime stories were being read and children were preparing for sleep. But then suddenly I felt uneasy. There was a flutter in the air. At first I thought it was the aftermath of the rain.”

  Madgwick took a deep breath.

  “There is always a flutter when the sunbeams touch the raindrops on the leaves. This happens in Little Falls especially, because the forest that surrounds the town is enchanted.” He paused.

  “At first I was at first bewildered because I couldn’t understand what I was feeling. It was more than just a flutter in the air. And the last time a maremist collided with a moonbeam, I was not in the field yet, so I didn’t know what to expect or to feel.”

  Madgwick’s feeling of failure settled securely in his chest and his explanations felt and sounded incredibly lame to his own ears. He was cringing at what the elders were thinking of his failure.

  The elders nodded to each other. Madgwick had still been a child when the last maremist came through. It was not likely that he would know what to expect.

  Madgwick’s intense misery increased as he misinterpreted their nodding. But he ploughed on.

  “I was looking around, trying to find the cause of my unease when the trees started to whisper to me, ‘Run Madgwick, run to town …’ I started to run but I did not know exactly where to go.”

  He stopped to catch his breath, as if he had been running again.

  One of the more experienced, a warrior called, Upijer, spoke up: “I would have made straight for town. The trees never issue warning unless it’s urgent!” Warriors on either side of him bobbed their heads in agreement.

  Madgwick nodded, then continued. “I followed the trees and they led the way, whispering and swaying. I could tell they were anxious and that there was much danger and evil in the air. Suddenly I knew. The trouble was the child caught in the moontrance. So I threw dust in the air and when I appeared in the garden, the boy was already trapped in the moonglow. And the elder boy was running towards it.”

  “No!” cried a couple of the elders in alarm, their hands stretched out as if they could stop the child from touching the moonglow. “Did he touch it?”

  Madgwick shook his head. “I managed to stop him from entering the moonglow, but it hovered and then vanished, taking the boy with it.”

  Madgwick stopped to catch his breath.

  “The elder boy struggled to get free and it took a lot for me to keep him out of the moonglow, at the time and even now! I feel like I should have, or could have pushed the child free of it. There was time …”

  Galagedra stood up and everyone’s gaze moved from Madgwick to Galagedra, who had been watching the young warrior carefully as if he could tell that Madgwick felt res
ponsible for the child’s entrapment in the moonglow.

  “You did well to save the older child,” Galagedra reassured Madgwick. “It would have been a catastrophe if both children had been trapped in the moonglow. We still have a chance of saving the young boy.”

  Galagedra took a deep breath and then continued.

  “Madgwick, we know you feel responsible. However, I need to explain that no blame lies with you. This maremist was beyond our control once the child was captured in the moonglow.”

  He looked at Madgwick and blinked slowly. “You did well to keep the older boy safe. I know your instinct was to leap into the moonglow to rescue the child but, Madgwick, had you done that, then you would have been lost to us too.”

  Madgwick took a deep breath, but despite Galagedra’s words, he still felt the weight of the day’s events.

  “That you kept yourself and the older child from leaping into the moonglow showed bravery beyond instinct.”

  The elders nodded.

  The warriors were silent. Being caught in between a maremist and a moonglow was a rare occurrence, but it had happened before. And the last time it happened the results were disastrous. This time was remembered with great sorrow by the Sandustian people.

  Madgwick, finished with his tale, was suddenly weary.

  He climbed the steps to where the rest of the warriors were seated, took his place and waited. One or two of the warriors caught his eye and gave him stiff nods of support.

  Madgwick’s shoulders relaxed at the gestures from his friends and fellow warriors. Rising voices hummed as the elders started muttering to each other. The din grew as Galagedra took his seat, lost in thought. There was plenty to consider and discuss, and not a lot of time to do it. The longer they delayed the more danger the child would be in.

  Galagedra got to his feet and brought the humming down to silence with a single wave of his hand.

  “As this has happened once before, we know that the child has been taken into Drakmere. We know that the child will survive … for a time.”

  The hum started up again and Galagedra waited for the crowd to settle.

  “And what is of greatest concern, is that we know who the child is.”

  Some of the younger warriors looked at each other in confusion and with raised eyebrows. The elders stared at Galagedra. They knew what he was referring to.

  Galagedra continued. “For many years we have watched the town of Little Falls. We have kept watch remaining wary, as the doorway to Drakmere was first opened there.

  Again the crowd started up, and Galagedra waited.

  “This doorway, to be found in the town of Little Falls, has a purpose, namely to provide us with a safe way of entering Drakmere.”

  A nervous twitter fluttered through the room.

  “The worlds are deeply bound by this magic passage. The first child taken into Drakmere by a moonglow also lived in Little Falls many years ago. She was a dream catcher.”

  He paused to allow the younger warriors to make sense of this point.

  “Our warriors went through the doorway and fought a brave battle to bring that little girl home. Although we triumphed with the safe return of the child, our hearts were heavy, and we wept with sorrow as we lost one of our brave warriors to the evil in Drakmere.”

  Galagedra stopped, the pain of the loss still as fresh as all those years ago.

  Jozephus, a short, slender elder with cropped hair, continued in his soft voice where Galagedra had left off. “With the assistance of our elders, we weaved a powerful spell to entrap the terrible memories that could harm the young girl so that she could live a normal life without the terror of Drakmere chasing her in every dream. To this day the spell lingers, protecting the child who is now all grown up with a family of her own. Our spell keeps her memories and dreams blocked from evil.”

  Galagedra took over from Jozephus as if they had timed their speeches.

  “As strong and skilful as our spell weavers are, the child who was taken tonight cannot brought back with our magic.”

  He was met by a sea of concerned faces.

  “We cannot bring him back as the crack has already been woven closed. No magic can get through unless we reopen the crack. And this we cannot risk. We will not be able to stem the tide of shimmers. The shimmers of darkness just waiting for a slight gap to float through and force their way into the dreams of the sleeping children.”

  Another elder, Torledo, tall and slender with long silver hair hanging to his waist, stood up. His face was smooth with rosy cheeks. He turned toward Madgwick and spoke in a gravelly voice.

  “Madgwick, my boy.”

  Madgwick winced at the term my boy. He was a warrior, a good one, and had been one for a long time, but the elders saw everyone as the youngsters, so it was hard to be annoyed at the affectionate wording.

  The elder continued. “How much did the older boy see, this boy Jeff, is it?”

  He looked around at the other elders for confirmation of the name. Then he turned back to Madgwick with a raised eyebrow.

  Madgwick got up and spoke loudly so that all could hear. “Torledo, the boy Jeff, saw his brother Matt trapped in a moonglow, saw him going through the window, being lowered into the garden and then in the garden he saw his brother disappear. He did not see me appear and I had to tackle him from the side to stop him from touching the moonglow.”

  “I am interested to know how he reacted to all of this,” the elder said.

  “He was shocked and that is understandable. He was angry and he wanted to know where his brother was.”

  “And you told him?” Jozephus asked.

  “I told him the boy had been taken to Drakmere, that he was not to tell anyone what happened and that I would be back to explain. And I told him we would be able to find his brother. I know I should not have told him anything, but he was so distraught I had to say something.”

  The muttering started up again among the elders and warriors. It became louder from the ranks of the warriors, until the words became clear: “The boy cannot go into Drakmere, unthinkable, no way, can’t happen!”

  Madgwick cleared his throat to make sure his voice would rise over the muttering.

  “I have been watching this family since the child got caught in the moontrance and I know Jeff will not be left behind voluntarily. He is a strong boy and this is his brother.”

  The room was quiet, then Galagedra stood up. All faces turned to him as he spoke calmly. “I too have been watching this family and I am sorry, Madgwick, but the boy may under no circumstances enter Drakmere. We have to leave the brother at home, as far away from Drakmere as we can, yes. Being in Drakmere would put them in grave danger. These boys are dream catchers just as their mother before them.”

  A gasp floated around the room. Rubisid, a short warrior with grey curly hair and a lined face that looked like a jigsaw puzzle, stood up, spreading his hands. “All known dream catchers have disappeared over time. Most of our warriors have never even seen or met a dream catcher. How were they found?”

  Jozephus dropped his head. “Drakmere is ruled by evil. With the right spell it would not be hard to find a dream catcher if there were one to find.”

  “We must choose carefully as to who will be going into Drakmere,” said Galagedra. “Yet again, we must brave the horrors of Drakmere and enter the world of nightmares to bring back a child.”

  There was a rumble in the room as Madgwick and all the other warriors leapt to their feet, all volunteering to fetch the child, ready to rush off at once.

  Galagedra bowed in gratitude and addressed the standing warriors.

  “The time of choosing who will do this brave deed will come soon enough my honourable warriors. For now, please be seated.”

  Madgwick stood silently as he waited for permission to speak. Galagedra nodded for him to talk.

  “Elders, the boy Jeff saw me this evening and is waiting for an explanation as to where his brother has gone, and I told him that I would be back to explain
. I ask that I be chosen as one of the warriors to enter Drakmere to bring the young boy home.”

  Madgwick sat down, feeling the gaze of every warrior and elder on him for making such a bold request, but not really caring what they thought.

  Galagedra turned towards the elders and there was a rush of whispered muttering between the elders.

  Some of the warriors leaned forward, anxious to hear what had been decided, but to no avail: it was impossible to catch even one word between them.

  After some minutes, the mutterings and whispers ceased and Galagedra turned back to the warriors.

  Galagedra spoke again. “The task will fall to you, Madgwick. You have already made contact with the boy.”

  Horrigan, one of the older and more experienced warriors, stood up. He was a little taller than Madgwick, with dark purple eyes that showed his years of experience. His taut face had a dagger tattoo down the side. He looked tough and his head was shiny and bald.

  He cleared his throat and said, “With all respect, Madgwick is a fine warrior, but he lacks the experience to enter Drakmere. We should send older warriors to bring the child home.”

  He glanced at Madgwick with raised eyebrows but seemed determined in his statement.

  Galagedra gazed up at the Warriors, many of the older warriors nodding in agreement, while the younger warriors scowled.

  He raised his hands to once again silence the room and said, “Yes, a more experienced warrior is a consideration. However, in this case, we,” he swept his hands over the elders seated behind him, “feel that Madgwick has the necessary qualities to complete this task.

  Galagedra let the information sink in.

  “We believe he can guide the child through the dangers of this terrible world. We also agree that a warrior with experience must accompany Madgwick. We must keep the rescue team small to escape unwanted attention. We therefore suggest that only one other warrior accompany Madgwick.”

  The room was enveloped in a hush.

  “The elders and I choose warrior Rig to take on the burden with Madgwick.”

  This time the whispers and the mutterings came from the warriors, and everyone glanced at the silent warrior called Rig who sat with his head bowed, staring at his hands.