"Marian taught me a little on the bass recorder, but it's nearly nine years since I've played,” Peter's stepfather admitted, to Peter's surprise. Despite himself he felt a small stab of jealousy. He couldn't remember much about his mother at all.
"Then we have a ready-made quintet—a player for each instrument,” Bart said. “We've some books of music around somewhere. We occasionally play when we have overseas visitors who are interested in music."
"I know where they are,” Susan said. “I'll go and get them.” She left the room.
Bart picked up the case. “You know, these are genuine eighteenth-century instruments. Such sets are very rare. The recorder gradually went out of fashion in the eighteenth century in favor of the flute. This has five instruments instead of four and looks to be in perfect order. Therefore it's probably unique."
Susan returned within five minutes. “There's a book of Christmas carols here—just what we need. They shouldn't be too hard to play."
Peter felt slightly left out as everyone with the exception of himself and his future stepmother settled down to play. After a while Susan and Sylvia went to the kitchen to make some morning tea and start preparing the lunch. Jamie and John abandoned the Christmas carols for duets. Peter slowly became aware of an almost imperceptible change in the atmosphere. The air seemed to become heavy and charged as though a thunderstorm was brewing, except it felt eerily unreal. Then, so suddenly it was as though a switch had been thrown, the sun disappeared. Jamie and John abruptly stopped playing. Everyone in the room looked out of the window. By this time great rolling black clouds completely filled the sky.
Susan and Sylvia were about to bring in the trolley laden with tea and scones. At the sudden dimming of the light they, too, looked out the nearest window. Into the eerie silence a knock at the door sounded so loud it might as well have been thunder. It made everyone jump.
Peter recovered first.
"I'll go,” he said, and ran from the room before anyone could stop him.
No one was more surprised than Peter to find Maria and her mother on the doorstep.
"It started to look as though we might be in for a bad thunderstorm so we thought we'd better bring the horses back,” Mrs. Fitzgibbon explained.
Susan had hurried out after Peter. “Come along in and join us for morning tea. I've just made it."
"We thought we could hear music. It sounded like my recorders. Was someone playing them?” Maria asked Peter as she followed her mother inside.
Peter's stumbling explanation was lost in the hubbub of the introductions that followed. As Maria seemed pleased rather than upset to learn that strangers had handled the instruments, he let the matter drop and applied himself to helping serve the tea.
When Maria described herself as “a friend of Peter's", Susan instantly invited both her and her mother to stay for the boys’ birthday party.
"We were hoping to have it outside as it promised to be such a nice day,” Susan said with a grimace of disappointment at the windows as she handed the scones around. “Who would have believed this morning it would turn out like this?"
"Never mind. Now they're here we've got another two real musicians. We now have a proper quartet,” Bart said with a chuckle. “I couldn't think of a nicer birthday present than to be entertained by professional musicians."
"I'd better get my music from the car before the storm comes,” Maria said quickly.
Mrs. Fitzgibbon instantly handed her the car keys. Maria left, with Bart and the three boys looking at her departing back with strange expressions on their faces.
"She takes her instruments and music everywhere she goes lately,” Maria's mother said with a shrug that seemed to add an apologetic comment on the oddity of girls at Maria's age.
"Where did you get them?” Bart asked. “A set like that is very rare—probably unique."
Mrs. Fitzgibbon laughed. “Yes. Their value worries me sometimes—in case Maria shows them to someone who knows their worth and has no scruples about stealing them.” She paused, a faint frown creasing her brow. “It was just before Maria's fifth birthday. We were still living in England at the time. I was looking for an instrument suitable for her to use at school—I didn't want her taking my own instruments—when a woman entered the shop and came up behind me. I don't remember much about her except she was tall and had gray eyes. She wore a blue hooded cloak with the hood pulled well forward. I don't think I could see her hair. I'd never seen her in my life before but she knew my name and a lot about both myself and Maria. She had the instruments with her and said she had no further use for them and wanted them to be used by someone who would appreciate them and learn to play them well. She pressed the case into my hands and hurried from the shop. I followed her as quickly as I could but she had disappeared. I asked people in the streets if they saw her but nobody had, despite the fact that her hooded cloak would have made her very conspicuous. My husband tried to find out if anything like these instruments had been reported stolen, but drew a blank. So Maria has used them since I started teaching her."
Before anyone could comment on Mrs. Fitzgibbon's story, Maria burst into the room with her case of music. She went through it with Jamie and John and in no time the three of them, plus Maria's mother, were busy working on some chosen pieces. Mrs. Fitzgibbon automatically fell into the role of teacher, and the listeners were all surprised at the difference in the sound the quartet made once she had worked with them for a short while.
Finally Mrs. Fitzgibbon suggested they play some Christmas carols.
"Perhaps Jamie would like to sing for us instead of playing,” she said. “I've heard you singing with Cantus Firmus. In fact, I've played several times in concerts where you sang."
Peter was first aware of a strange sensation during the Christmas carols. He was enjoying the concert so much that when the sensation came it took him by surprise. With Jamie's clear, bright voice filling the air, Peter abruptly became aware of a sound that seemed to come from outside the room. At the same time it filled his whole mind, almost like an echo of the music accompanying Jamie's singing.
Quietly he left the room and crept outside through the now empty kitchen. The uncanny resonation was even more obvious just outside the house. It was almost as though something in Jamie's singing, or the accompaniment to it, matched in some strange way a sound from another source. The echo drawn by the music out of the air rang across the shallow valley with a compelling power that Peter couldn't resist.
Almost against his will, he felt himself drawn towards the sound. Softly he closed the back door and moved away from the house. The lowering black clouds completely covering the sky gave an eerie twilight cast to the day.
The waves of sound seemed to come from the direction of the forest. Peter scanned the trees that marked the forest boundary. There was nothing to be seen. Even as he stood staring into the distance, the Christmas carol came to an end. The resonation stopped. He heard a burst of spontaneous applause from the house. He stood still and reached out to the forest with his mind. At the same time, he heard the recorders start on the introduction to another carol. Jamie's voice rang out again. Peter waited for the echo, but the heavy, charged air remained silent. The only sound to be heard was the music from the house.
But his probing mind could still feel the power. While he sought to divine its nature, the power reached out to him. Like a magnet it drew him towards it. Under its compulsion, Peter started running in the direction of the forest.
Chapter 15
The Darkening Forest
"THAT'S MY last one,” Jamie insisted as his audience of seven broke into applause and someone—he thought it was Maria—still called for more.
"I think it's time for lunch anyway,” Susan suggested. She had spent a good deal of the time listening to the concert from the kitchen, glad of Sylvia Evans's help.
With their attention split between the past pleasures of the music and anticipation of a good lunch, it wasn't until they were taking their seats in
the dining room that they noticed Peter's absence.
"Where's Peter?” said several voices in chorus as Bart switched on the lights over the table.
There was a short silence while they looked at one another inquiringly.
"Dreyfus isn't here either,” Mr. Edwards said, looking around for the dog. “Peter must have got bored and taken him for a walk.” He turned apologetically to his hosts. “I'm afraid Peter's musical education is non-existent. I've been neglectful in that respect and Mrs. Jackson—our daily help in Wellington—used to work to the noise of some dreadful commercial radio station, so that was all Peter heard."
"Surely he wouldn't have walked out without telling anyone,” Sylvia Evans protested. “He struck me as being a very responsible sort of boy, not the type to just disappear leaving us to worry about him."
Bart looked at Simon Edwards uneasily. “I don't feel at all happy about this. I think perhaps I should go and look for him.” He went to one of the windows and peered out. “It's become awfully dark, especially for the middle of a summer's day. It's not just a threat of thunder either. There's something unnatural about it."
"What else could it be? Earthquake?” Mrs. Fitzgibbon asked in nervous, if somewhat flippant, surprise. “And why should we worry about the boy if he just got bored and took his dog for a walk? He can't come to any harm unless he's silly enough to get himself lost in the forest. Obviously he didn't tell anyone because he didn't want to seem rude by interrupting the concert, and he certainly wouldn't have wanted us to know he was bored because he wouldn't have wanted to spoil our fun.” The other adults looked at each other significantly. Mrs. Fitzgibbon's sharp eyes missed nothing. “Is there something I should know?"
Bart hesitated. It seemed to him too many people outside of the Chosen Ones already knew of their quest for Earthlight. His wife, Peter's stepfather and the twins’ mother were one thing—all trusted people closely connected with members of the ring of Chosen Ones—but someone whom most of them had just met that day was another matter.
Peter's stepfather spoke before Bart could come to a decision. “There's no doubt someone acting on Marian's behalf gave Mrs. Fitzgibbon the set of recorders. I recognized them straight away. Sets of recorders are too rare for there to be another one exactly like Marian's. If Peter's mother trusted her instruments to Mrs. Fitzgibbon, I think we can trust her, too."
Mrs. Fitzgibbon looked from Bart to Mr. Edwards. “In that case you'd better start by calling me Ria—it's short for Maria. And if that poor boy and his dog are in some sort of danger someone should start looking for them right away."
"That had better be me. I know this property better than anyone else.” Bart looked at Sylvia Evans apologetically. “I'll need Jamie and John, too. They'll be of more use than anyone else. Simon will explain everything to you, Ria."
"You'll need me, too,” Maria said from behind Jamie and John. Her face was flushed and her jaw squared as all eyes swiveled in her direction. “I think I know when Peter left. While Jamie was singing I heard a sound which seemed to be coming from outside—like something out there was echoing what Jamie was singing. I think Peter must have gone then. I didn't see him go because I was too busy listening to the sound, trying to work out what it was and where it was coming from."
Bart looked at her thoughtfully. “I think it's your recorders we need rather than you, Maria. Jamie and John are able to play them if necessary so there's no reason to needlessly expose anyone else to possible danger."
"Did Jamie and John hear the sound though?” Maria said stubbornly.
"Well how could we have? I was singing and John was playing. When I'm singing I hear only the music."
Maria glared at Jamie as though he had made an unpardonable accusation.
"So do I when I'm playing,” she said tersely. “My part had a few bars of rest—and besides the sound from outside was too loud to miss."
"I thought I heard something when my part had a rest,” John ventured before Jamie could voice his indignation, “but when I tried listening for it the sound stopped so I forgot about it."
Bart looked from one indignant young face to the other. “Okay—okay. This is no time for quarreling.” His voice brooked no argument. “Jamie and John will come with me and Simon will explain as much as he knows to Maria and her mother while you all have lunch.” Bart turned and left the room. When he returned only moments later he was carrying the case of recorders. “Come on,” he said shortly to the twins.
As the Earthlight trio turned to go through the kitchen to the back door, Jamie felt something prickle at the back of his mind. He turned back in surprise, to see Maria looking after them hesitantly.
"Do you know something about Peter's disappearance you haven't told us?"
"No, but I wondered if it might be connected to the reason Mum brought me here.” She related her story exactly as she told it to Peter.
They all listened in silence. Bart frowned. “Count twenty trees from the main path? I take it that means along the edge of the forest, away from the house and stables?"
"Well, that's what I thought, and I had no trouble finding the first marked tree."
"Trouble is, the marks might not be there now. But at least we've got something to work on.” Bart turned abruptly. “Come on."
Once outside, Bart and the twins broke into a run.
"We'll take the horses,” Bart said over his shoulder. “If Peter's gone into the forest he could be anywhere by now."
When they arrived at the stables most of the stable hands were in the middle of their lunch. The sight of young Bernie munching on thick beef sandwiches reminded Jamie and John of their own hollow stomachs and the delicious meal they were missing.
"It's okay, Bernie, we'll ready the horses ourselves,” Bart said as young Bernie put down his sandwich and scrambled to his feet. “We're taking Obsidianus, Silvera and Crystalline."
His mouth full of sandwich, young Bernie grinned and nodded his thanks and acknowledgement. As they turned away from the office block towards the stables they heard him filling the kettle to make a pot of tea. The sound reinforced the rumbling in the twins’ empty bellies. However, as soon as they were on the mares and cantering from the stable yard, they forgot their hunger in their anxiety for Peter and the urgency of their need to find him.
Bart invariably took Obsidianus into the forest when exercising the great stallion. It allowed him to check on things that needed doing there even while enjoying the exercise and the company of his favorite horse. The stallion knew the way without any guidance by now so Bart had fallen into the habit of letting him have his head, at least until they were within the forest. Now, however, Obsidianus trotted off in almost the opposite direction. Bart tried pulling his head around but he obstinately refused to change direction.
"I thought we were going into the forest,” Jamie said.
"I can't get him to go that way."
Jamie tried turning Silvera's head. She, too, ignored his directions. “Silvera doesn't want to go either."
"Then we'd better let them have their heads. The Earthlight is obviously guiding them."
They cantered on in silence. None of the horses seemed to be in a hurry. Ahead loomed the new barn-cum-boathouse. The horses passed the building and carried on until only the lake was ahead. They stopped on the shore where Peter and Bart had dived into the lake in the last holidays, a time that seemed to the twins only a few weeks in the past.
Before anyone could say anything, Obsidianus moved to the nearest weeping willow. Some of its branches drooped so low the tips almost touched the water. To the boys’ surprise, the stallion reached out and plucked at the foliage with his teeth. The mares copied his actions. Then he turned his head and looked over his shoulder at Bart. He gestured with his head as though telling Bart to take the twig he had broken off. Bart leaned forward in the saddle and took it. All three horses repeated the performance until each rider was holding four pieces of willow. Then, without more ado, the horses turned and hea
ded for the forest.
It was almost with relief that Bart saw the beginning of the path ahead. Before they reached it he turned right and started counting the trees.
Jamie saw the chalked arrow first. “There it is!"
Obsidianus made straight for the tree. It was as though he, too, knew the marked trees meant something. The mares followed unhesitatingly. As the horses rode underneath the edge of the forest canopy, seven figures seemed to spring from nowhere. In a matter of moments the three horses were surrounded.
* * * *
PETER FOUND the chalk-marked tree at the edge of the forest without any trouble. By this time he wasn't really aware of where he was going, what he was doing or even what he was seeking. He wasn't even aware Dreyfus had been at his heels since he left the house. The dog now pressed himself close to his master's side. Dreyfus seemed aware something wasn't right with Peter, whose movements were mechanical. He completely ignored his dog.
Peter followed the path made by the trees whose trunks were marked with the white chalk until he came to the great pine—larger than all its fellows—under which Maria had sat. He touched its bark—and the power that shot through his hand hurled him right across the small clearing
He felt himself sailing through the air. He was aware of falling, but not of hitting the ground. The fall seemed to last forever. It was as though he went down, down, down into a bottomless pit. Desperately his mind reached out to slow himself—to stop his fall—for he saw what was waiting below: the Domain of the Evil One. He saw a blue-robed figure, flanked by others in black, reach out for him. He fancied he caught a steely glitter from within the folds of the blue hood. The darkness in the pit below the Lord in Blue seethed and changed. One moment it was a cauldron of boiling black tar; the next a den of writhing, hissing snakes.
No! Peter's mind screamed at him. The Earthlight—the Lady—put the marks there. They wouldn't lead me into danger ... Then the darkness claimed him.
Dreyfus rushed over to the fallen boy, whining. Peter lay unmoving. His eyes were wide, staring out of his ashen face at the forest canopy. Frantically the dog licked his face. But Peter remained unmoving.
The Third Age of Obsidian [Quest for Earthlight Trilogy Book Three] Page 17