Heart of the Hill

by Andrea Spalding

  Holly prickled with awareness. Why was it so important to this person that she should eat? A memory stirred at the back of her mind. Something she had heard or read as a young girl about eating with fairies. To eat with them placed you under their power, that was it, and you could never leave their realm.

  Holly stared first at Zorianna then at Vivienne. Were they fairies? She didn’t think so, but they were magical beings of some sort. Maybe the same thing applied.

  A tiny flare of steam from the chicken made her nostrils quiver. The food smelled so good that her stomach rumbled in response. But what if it was wrong to eat it?

  How could she find out?

  Holly picked up the golden knife and fork and cut a corner off the chicken slice.

  Zorianna leaned forward. Her eyes followed the fork toward Holly’s mouth.

  Holly stopped the fork in midair. “Why are you watching me?” she demanded. “Why do you care if I eat or not?”

  She replaced the fork on her plate and folded her arms.

  Zorianna hissed and opened her mouth to speak, but once again Vivienne forestalled her.

  “You look so tired and cold, child. We wish you well. Food will revive you, give you energy for the tasks ahead.”

  “What tasks?” said Holly.

  “You wished for something deep in your heart,” said Vivienne. “That is why you are here.”

  “In my dream cave,” interjected Zorianna, looking with dislike at Vivienne.

  Vivienne ignored her. “You wished you were the chosen one, child. The one on a quest, the one with power.” She lifted her arms in delight. “Well … you shall be! I can make it so.”

  “What do you mean?” hedged Holly.

  “Do as I say, and you shall have more power than you have ever dreamed of. The power to make dreams come true, to give people their hearts’ desires.” Vivienne threw her head back and ran her fingers through her long golden curls. “You’d have the power to be anything you wished, to fulfill your desires.” She stared into Holly’s eyes. “You would be beautiful. Would you not like to grow up as beautiful as we are?”

  “Er … yes, I suppose I would,” admitted Holly.

  Vivienne and Zorianna exchanged sparkling smiles, and each laid a finger on Holly’s shoulder.

  Holly looked down in amazement as her bandage vanished, her arm healed and her pj’s transformed into a silk dress. She raised a hand and felt her hair settle into soft waves that floated around her face.

  In her mind’s eye she saw herself drifting into the school dance looking sophisticated and beautiful, like the girl in the upper sixth she most admired. A smile flickered on her lips. She lifted her fork toward her mouth.

  A look of glee crossed Zorianna’s face.

  Holly glimpsed the fleeting expression, and the spell broke. She peered at the food on her fork, then dropped it. “What’s wrong with the chicken?” she demanded and stood up, pushing her plate away.

  “Insolent child,” hissed Zorianna. “Is this how you repay kindness?”

  “What kindness?” snapped Holly. “I didn’t ask to come here; you made me. You’re trying to make me eat too. Well, I’m not going to.” Holly flounced away from the table and folded her arms. “You’re trying to trick me. Who are you? What do you want?”

  “Why would we want anything from you?” sneered Zorianna. “You are nothing but a child.”

  Holly shoulders slumped, her hair sprang into its normal tangles and she was back in her pj’s. She felt six years old.

  Zorianna laughed cruelly.

  Holly’s eyes watered. Then pride took over. She lifted her chin.

  Owen watched. Holly was trembling. A red patch glowed on each cheek, and her eyes glittered. She’s feverish again and scared, he thought. She’s always scared when she folds her arms and juts out her chin. Oh, Myrddin, what should I do? Is it time to help her?

  In the cavern, Vivienne shouted with frustration. “See what you have done, Zorianna? You may be powerful, but you know nothing of humans. The child will never take part willingly now. Humans have to feel they have free choice, that they can choose their destiny.”

  Zorianna laughed. “Humans think they can choose? You jest, Vivienne. Make them do your bidding!” She lifted her arm and shot a blue flare toward Holly.

  “You wish for choice, child? Here is your choice: Do our bidding, or stay imprisoned within the nightmares of your own mind.” She swept out of the dream cave with Vivienne running to catch up.

  The blue light pulsed over Holly’s head, then surrounded her. Her pj’s became rags, her hair hung in greasy clumps, the skin on her arm bloated and puffed, the knife cut oozed and the infection spread to her fingers.

  Holly looked down at her hand and arm with horror.

  The blue light spread outward in ripples. The ripples flowed through the cave, consuming everything in their path, the table, food, the furniture and fire, leaving in their wake an eerie light and a strange scene of horror.

  Now the cavern walls were full of rotting skeletons sliding from the rocks. Their bony fingers seemed to point at Holly.

  Holly stared down at her own rotting hand. A piece of flesh peeled off and dropped to the cave floor, revealing the bone. She swayed and closed her eyes.

  “No … no. Help,” she moaned. Cold sweat beaded her forehead. She trembled and covered her face. A harsh sob was wrenched from her throat.

  Owen crouched down and held his breath as Zorianna and Vivienne swept past his hiding place. He waited a few moments then peered again over the top of the rock.

  “Crikey,” he muttered as he witnessed the cave’s transformation. “Poor Holly.” He looked around his area. It was an ordinary cave, cold and damp but not a skeleton to be seen. He peeked again at the horrors surrounding Holly. “I get it,” he muttered. “It’s not real. It’s another illusion. It stretches only as far as Holly can see. Enough of these crazy games!”

  Owen stepped from his hiding place and walked toward Holly. “Hi ya,” he called cheerfully. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  Holly peeked through her fingers. “Owen? Is that really you?”

  “Yup. Myrddin sent me to sleep, so I could find your dream.” Owen looked around, grinning. “It’s a pretty gruesome dream, like a bad horror movie. Let’s spoof it up.” He bent down, picked up a loose leg bone and swung it like a baseball bat. “Come on, sis, play ball? Pitch me that skull beside you. Bet you I can swing and hit like Adam does. Let’s see if I can make a … What does he call it?… a home run!”

  Holly shuddered and retreated.

  Owen laughed. “Don’t you get it, Holly? This isn’t real.” He gestured toward the carnage around them.

  “You must have a twisted mind.”

  “What do you mean, it’s not real?” Holly held out a shaking hand to show him. “Look.”

  Owen grasped both her hands tightly. “Holly, you’re dreaming. We both are. Your hand looks horrid, but it feels fine to me. It’s just a dream, a bad dream, an illusion. Change it!”

  Holly stared at him, disbelief in her eyes.

  “Come on, Holly. Refuse to believe. Remember Vivienne and the Portal? When you thought of things, they happened? That’s what’s happening now, so break it up.” Owen bent down and picked up the nearest skull. He tossed it in the air and swung the leg bone.

  Clunk. The skull shattered in a thousand fragments that instantly disappeared.

  Holly screamed and hid her face in her hands again.

  Owen laughed. “Don’t be scared. Those women are playing mind games with you. Don’t let them.”

  “How?” Holly’s voice was muffled. She didn’t dare look up.

  Owen squatted beside her. “Your arm made you sick and feverish, and we took you to the doctor’s. Remember?” he said gently.

  Holly nodded.

  “Did you think the gash was so infected that you were dying?”

  Holly gulped and nodded again.

  Owen stroked her hand gently. “That’s the fear
they used.” As he stroked her arm the swelling and infection disappeared, the bandage reappeared and the hand healed to look normal again. “See, it was a mind game.”

  Holly smiled through her tears and watched as the illusion faded. There she sat — a normal-looking pj-clad kid again.

  “How did you know it wasn’t real?” whispered Holly.

  “I saw it happen.”

  Holly’s eyes widened.

  “Myrddin hypnotized me so I could fall asleep and enter your dream to help you,” said Owen gently. “Those cloaked women also entered your dream. They made you long for power and see stuff that wasn’t there, like the table full of food.”

  “The food was real,” groaned Holly. “It smelled so good.”

  “But it vanished, didn’t it?”

  Holly nodded and sniffed. She wiped her nose on her sleeve.

  “So, now they’re using your thoughts to show you scary stuff, like dead people. But they’re not real either. You’re having a fever dream, a nightmare. Change it.” Owen looked around and grinned. “I didn’t know you were scared of skeletons.”

  Holly shuddered. “The doctor said I might have died. This is what happens when you die.”

  “Don’t be daft,” said Owen briskly. “You’re not dying. You’re taking antibiotics and getting better.” He looked around at the bones. “This reminds me of something.” He laughed. “I know…It’s the cellar of the haunted house we visited last Halloween.” Owen stood up and gestured. “See, Holly?…It’s just another memory they’re using. Stuff these skeletons back in the ground where they belong. They’re no more real than that table full of food. Force your mind to think of something else.” Owen paused. “Or I could go around smashing things to prove it.” He brandished the leg bone with relish.

  Holly moaned.

  “I mean it.” Owen swung the bone. Clunk. Another skull shattered. Plink, plink, plink. Several ribs fell to the ground as Owen dragged his bat along the front of a skeleton. He roared with laughter and watched with interest as the rest of the skeleton dissolved and faded away. “See? Easy come, easy go.”

  He glanced over at Holly. She sat on the rock with a look of fierce concentration on her face. He joined her.

  Bit by bit the carnage around them grew faint and insubstantial until they were sitting in a normal-looking cave.

  “Brilliant,” Owen said. “Now let’s get out of here before those women come back.”

  Holly stood up, and together they began to retrace their steps through the cave to the shore.

  “If this is my dream, maybe I can change the weather,” said Holly as they stepped out into a biting wind. She spread her arms and lifted her face. “Sunshine and blue sky,” she murmured. “Warm breezes and sparkling water.”

  The wind dropped to a gentle breeze, and the grayness began to turn gold. Shafts of sunlight broke through the clouds, and the mist shredded. The sky was suddenly brilliant blue, and the sun beat down on their faces.

  Owen dropped the bone and took a deep breath of relief. “Terrific, sis. Feeling better?”

  Holly gave a little nod. She concentrated some more. The breeze died away, and the waves smoothed to tiny ripples. Sparkles of light danced like diamonds on the water, and the last of the mist curled and swirled away.

  Blue sky arched above them, and sunlight surrounded them.

  “Come on, sis, let’s go home,” said Owen. “Let’s fly back over the water and wake up in Myrddin’s house.”

  Holly shook her head “I can’t … I don’t know why, but I can’t go back yet.” She gestured around at the island. “The magic here is pulling at me. I can’t stop this dream. I don’t understand why. I just can’t.”

  “Then leave the shore. We’re too near the cave. We flew here, so let’s fly up to the top of the cliff,” said Owen.

  Holly’s eyes sparkled. They spread their arms in unison and rose through the air to the peak of the island.

  Laughing, Owen pointed to a grassy hollow protected by several rocks. They landed in the center and lay back on the soft turf to soak up the comforting warmth of the sun. Their eyes closed, and they both slept.

  Holly roused first. She sat up, shaded her eyes and looked over the rocks at the view. “It’s not the sea,” she said in surprise. “It’s a lake. Oh, Owen, look. We’ve slept for ages. It’s nearly sunset.” She pointed to the sun, low in the sky opposite them.

  The view was magnificent. Dancing water stretched to the hills on the far horizon, and now that the mist had cleared they could see their hill, though the biggest, wasn’t the only island. There were many islands, low mounds surrounded by dense reed beds. Several contained round huts. All were bathed in golden light.

  “It’s beautiful,” said Owen, but he stirred uneasily. “But after the sunset… what are we going to do? I don’t want to be stuck up here in the dark.”

  “It will be okay,” said Holly, her voice suddenly stronger. “This is where I’m supposed to be. I know it. I even know where we are. Do you?”

  Owen shook his head.

  “We’re on Glastonbury Tor, but in the past.” Holly pointed toward the nearest island. “One of those islands is the lake village I visited. We are on the Tor when it was the Isle of Avalon. Now, if I can only figure out why?”

  “I suppose that woman Vivienne was the Portal Keeper,” said Owen.

  “Yes, yes! You’re right! I knew I recognized her voice.”

  Holly bit her lip and stared out across the water. “So, who was the other woman?”

  Owen squirmed. He didn’t want to give Holly another shock.

  “Do you know?” Holly pressed.

  “Not for sure,” said Owen, “but I think Zorianna must be the emissary from the Dark Being.”

  Holly shuddered.

  The two children sat in silence, watching the sun sink toward the hills on the far side of the lake.

  Owen jabbed an elbow in Holly’s ribs and pointed to the nearest island.

  A tiny flat-bottomed boat, paddled by a young man in a skin tunic, nosed out from the shelter of the reeds. The paddler thrust powerfully from the prow with an oar, and the boat responded, cutting easily through the water. It headed straight for their beach.

  “Hide,” said Owen. He and Holly sank down behind the rocks.

  The paddler leaped out, dragged the boat up the shingle and disappeared from sight beneath them.

  Holly and Owen peered over the rocks.

  The young man, unaware of their presence, looked carefully up at the Tor as if checking landmarks to get his bearings.

  Owen dodged backward.

  “It’s okay,” whispered Holly. “It’s like when I went through the Portal. He can’t see or hear us. We’re in the dreamworld, and he’s in the past.”

  They peered over the rocks again.

  Owen gasped as the man’s face seemed to looked straight at them, but the eyes slid away, and he turned to walk around the base of the Tor.

  Holly clutched Owen’s arm. “It’s Arto,” she hissed.

  “Who?” said Owen, looking blank.

  “Arto, the man from my lake village dream. He’s the one who got in a fight and dropped the bowl I caught. That must be why I’m here. I have to see what’s in the past again. We’ve got to follow him.” Holly climbed out of the hollow and began to slither down the side of the Tor on the seat of her pajama pants.

  “Careful,” Owen grinned as he followed. “Rip those and you’ll regret it.” He sang the first few bars of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony.

  “Bu-bu-bu bum. Bu-bu-bu bum.”

  Despite herself, Holly chuckled.

  Arto picked his way around the base of the Tor with Holly and Owen in pursuit.

  Holly paused, “Can you hear something?”

  Owen listened. “Water. There’s a stream somewhere.” They picked up speed, and the sound of the water became louder, almost deafening. They followed Arto over a rocky promontory and jumped down into a cove. Both gasped at the scenery.

 
The cove was narrow, surrounded by fern-hung cliffs.

  From clefts high in the rocks tumbled two streams, one from the left, one from the right.

  “It’s fantastic,” said Owen.

  Fine spray filled the air, and the sunlight made a million rainbows dance and shimmer.

  “The Red and White Springs,” murmured Holly.

  She stared up at the cliffs. “This is what they were like before Glastonbury and Wellhouse Lane were built.”

  “Fantastic,” breathed Owen.

  Holly and Owen watched as Arto cupped his hands and bent to drink from the Red Spring and crossed to the opposite cliff and drank from the White Spring.

  “Lady of Avalon,” Arto shouted. His voice echoed and boomed around the cove. “You called, and I came. I feel your presence. I come to honor you and follow your directions. For though I lost the sacred cup, you still bid me come to your sanctuary. Guide my feet once more along the spiral path. Permit me to enter the Crystal Cave unharmed.”

  “You were right to follow him, sis,” whispered Owen.

  Holly nodded. “He’s drunk the waters like we did in Wellhouse Lane.”

  Owen’s eyes widened. “Thousands of years between him and the present, and people are still drinking the magic waters. Wow!”

  Holly nudged Owen. “We’d better copy everything Arto does.”

  They drank again from the streams and followed.

  Arto left the cove, skirting the cliffs to climb gentler slopes beyond. Passing between two large white boulders, Arto followed an almost invisible snake-like track that looped backward and forward around the island.

  “The Lady was listening,” said Owen. “Look how the setting sun is showing the edges of the track so we can all see where to go.”

  Holly blanched. “This is not just a track. We’re walking the Spiral Labyrinth,” she said.

  “Uh-oh.” Owen echoed her unease.

  They stumbled behind Arto in single file, winding back and forth, ever upward. The world was bathed in a golden light that brightened as the sun sank. Just before the sun slipped out of sight, Arto stopped before a large egg-shaped white stone sunk in the hillside below the peak of the Tor.