The Obsidian Quest [Search for Earthlight Trilogy Book 1]

by Laraine Anne Barker

  Merlin then turned to Sujad. “Sujad, there's nothing you can do to help. Perhaps you might like to help your people in the twentieth century. They're sorely in need of leadership at the moment and I'd like them to know I'm on my way to help.” At the sudden apprehension in Sujad's eyes, he added reassuringly, “Everything will be all right. You have my word on that. I shall call upon the Lady to escort you."

  Merlin's eyes glazed over and he stood as though in a trance. Then they all heard the eerie music again, the air shimmered ... and there was the Lady, looking faintly transparent as though only part of her was present. She took Sujad's hand and they vanished in a whirling white haze. A few haunting bars of the music lingered in the air, producing that strange yearning tug at Peter's heart.

  As though nothing had happened, Merlin moved forward, shepherding the Chosen before him. With Peter in front, holding onto Dreyfus, they followed Nostradamus through a doorway that had appeared to be part of the wall before Nostradamus opened it. A spiral staircase filled the small room beyond the door. The Prophet of Doom led them up the staircase and through a trapdoor to the room above his study, which proved to be a large dome made almost entirely of glass.

  "It's an observatory!” Peter cried.

  It was indeed like an observatory, but one of the barest observatories any of the Chosen had ever seen—for there was no telescope, which was still awaiting invention. However, they saw plenty of evidence of work, for there were charts, papers and various tools on all the tables. At first glance the chamber appeared to be round, but was in fact twelve-sided.

  "This is indeed where I observe the courses of the stars to predict the future. It has been built so none know of its existence unless I bring them here. Only the birds can see it from outside—and the eyes of a Great One.” Nostradamus glanced at Merlin.

  Merlin chuckled dryly. “I've seen it many times, my friend. In fact, I had a considerable hand in its building.” At Nostradamus's startled look, he continued, “Oh, you wouldn't have recognized me. I wouldn't have been of much use to Uther without my gift of disguising myself so my own mother wouldn't have known me."

  Merlin walked to the center of the observatory and stood craning his neck upwards. Peter followed, while the rest of the Chosen stayed in a group near the now closed trapdoor. Merlin pointed to the ceiling, which was divided into twelve wedges like a large cake, except the wedges stopped short of a point to allow room for the wonderful centerpiece, a polished, twelve-faced crystal looking remarkably like a huge diamond. Each wedge of the ceiling was made of glass, perfectly curved to fit into its stone setting and permitting a distortion-free view of the heavens. At the top of each glass panel near the crystal faint circular outlines were cut into the glass, though they were not always visible. At the bottom of each wedge was a small set of casement windows and below that a stone wall not much higher than the tabletops. Into each stone panel a sign of the zodiac had been carved with such imagination the onlooker could only marvel at the skill of the carver. The floor was mosaic-tiled in twelve wedges and each wedge also depicted a sign of the zodiac.

  Merlin directed them to stand in a circle, each within one of the tiled segments. Dreyfus unhesitatingly stood in the wedge on Peter's left. Nostradamus seated himself at one of the tables and watched while Merlin took up his station beneath the central crystal and stretched his arms above his head, lifting his face to the crystal. They could all but feel the power pulse from his fingertips to focus on the crystal.

  And, from the heart of the crystal, light poured into the wizard's fingertips. It was as though two rainbows transformed themselves into straight currents of light, and the colors twisted and turned in the flow, dazzling the eyes with their brilliance. Slowly Merlin moved his hands inwards until they met in a Gothic arch over his head. The two rivers of light became one and gradually died. Merlin dropped his hands to his sides and stood still, eyes closed, for minutes that seemed like hours. Then, with a suddenness that made them all start, he flung his hands above his head with a force that made his feet leave the floor, at the same time giving forth an almighty shout. And from his hands a bolt of lightning sprang and hit the center of the crystal. Instead of shattering, however, the crystal began to glow and pulsate. As they watched in awe, the pulsing split into twelve beams of light issuing from the twelve facets of the crystal. Each beam unerringly slanted down to one of the Chosen and each felt something being slipped over his head. Abruptly the brilliance died.

  In the ensuing dimness the Chosen blinked at one another, each noticing the others wore silver medals on silver chains around their necks, except for Dreyfus who had his attached to his collar like a dog license disc. Set in each medal was a roaring red dragon that shimmered like rubies in the daylight pouring into the glass dome. Each dragon had ruby eyes of a darker red and the eyes seemed to wink at them. When they looked up at the ceiling dome, the Chosen could see that the faint circular outlines cut into the glass were representations of the emblems around their necks.

  Merlin broke into the turmoil of Peter's thoughts. “Keep them with you always and bear them well.” He turned to the trapdoor. “Now I must return those of you who have no part in the main quest—who may have no part to play until the very end—to your appropriate times and places. The Obsidian Orb will send you back, and your absence won't have been noticed."

  They returned to Nostradamus's study, where they took up their previous positions. Merlin lifted the Obsidian Orb from its stand and raised it above his head. “By the authority vested in me and the supremacy of the Lady, I call upon the powers of the Obsidian Orb to return those of the Chosen to their present places in this world until required to perform their role in the Earthlight quest."

  One by one the Chosen seemed to dissolve into thin air until only Peter, Jamie, John and Dreyfus were left. Merlin, however, stood gazing into the depths of the Obsidian Orb, his lips moving, until the light at its center died.

  Merlin replaced the Obsidian Orb on its silver stand. He addressed Nostradamus. “We're ready to receive your paths of wisdom. For that you'll need the Obsidian Orb—the only time it will be used by one not normally authorized to control it."

  He pushed the Obsidian Orb toward the prophet, who looked at it as he might have regarded the snake from the Garden of Eden. His gaze intensified and he leaned forward, intoning, as though reading the words from the Obsidian Orb, “Follow the secret mountain route, as revealed on the roof of the islands. There will be battle with the Evil One and it does not go well with the Great One, who must seek the very roots there. The others must go to the hidden city that comes from nowhere.” He jerked forward, focusing hard, grabbed the Orb from its stand and stood, as though ordering it to tell him more. “There was more, Great One, but something hides it from me. A power denies me further access.” He looked up at Merlin in wonder. “It is the most wondrous power I've ever met. Whatever it is, it could annihilate even you in a flash—"

  "The Enemy has overheard your paths of wisdom. The hidden city is also doomed!"

  Carefully, curbing his impatience, Merlin took the Orb from Nostradamus and gazed into its depths, his eyes commanding. He breathed a sigh of relief.

  "It is the Lady. For some reason she also denies me the rest of the vision.” He frowned. “What was it you said before she cut you off? ‘There will be battle with the Evil One and it does not go well with the Great One'. I don't understand, but obviously I must prepare myself with every skill at my disposal."

  He stood looking thoughtful for a few minutes, while those watching strove to curb their restlessness. He came to with a start as though his mind had been miles away and held the Orb out to Nostradamus. “Place your hands on top.” Raising his eyebrows in surprise, the Prophet of Doom rested his palms on the Orb. “You will forget everything that has happened here,” Merlin declared. Nostradamus protested with his eyes, and as he went to remove his hands, Merlin ordered their return with a curt nod of his head and repeated, his eyes brooking no denial, “You will
forget; it is decreed."

  The Prophet sighed and gave a reluctant and almost imperceptible nod of acceptance. Merlin removed the orb from under his hands. Instantly Nostradamus became immobilized. Merlin then turned to the trio of boys, all gaping in astonishment at the frozen man. “We leave for the mountains,” he said brusquely, whisking his cloak over the Obsidian Orb.

  Peter pointed at Nostradamus. “But we can't leave him like that!"

  "He'll recover when we've gone. We'll return to the observatory and I want you to gather in a circle around me, all holding onto each other. Two of you will have to hold onto Dreyfus's collar."

  As they followed him back to the room above, what looked like a walking stick materialized in Merlin's left hand. The wizard placed himself in the center of the mosaic floor and the three boys and the dog stood in a circle around him.

  Still clutching the Obsidian Orb under his cloak with his right hand, Merlin stamped his stick on the floor and shouted a few unintelligible words. The room seemed to spin, revolving around the tall figure at its center and causing the three boys to tighten their grasp on each other and the dog's collar. They all involuntarily closed their eyes.

  The air grew intolerably cold, and a breeze, gentle and yet chill, started to blow around them. They opened their eyes—and they were standing surrounded by tall mountains, most capped with snow. They stood beside a bubbling stream strewn with boulders in a valley carpeted with summer flowers, with tussocky grass stretching away toward the bleak but majestic mountain range. One peak was more prominent than all its fellows—and not merely because of its height. Across the valley Mount Cook sang to them—like a high wind along telegraph wires, but felt with the mind rather than through the sense of hearing.

  "We have to find our way across those mountains—the Southern Alps—to the hidden city,” Merlin explained.

  "But we've got no food—no climbing tackle!” Peter protested. “And besides, we're not mountaineers..."

  Merlin pointed to what looked like an innocent bank of earth. “I've hidden a cache of food and anything else we'll need over there. And we don't need to be mountaineers."

  "Isn't there a spell you can use to get us to the hidden city?” Peter asked.

  "This is a quest. I can't use wizardry—at least not for that purpose—to find what I'm looking for: there's a power in these Alps that forbids it. Any spell will be blocked, and I shall only be left weakened."

  "What are you looking for then?” Even Jamie was aghast at Peter's boldness in daring to question the wizard so freely.

  "Don't ask so many questions.” Then, apparently regretting his moment of ill-humor, Merlin explained, “It's not a good idea for you to know too much at the moment in case the Enemy is able to get at you while you're still relatively defenseless."

  As he spoke, Merlin went to the mound of earth and dragged away a stone to reveal a small cave-like opening. From this he pulled out backpacks for them all, a good supply of food and a minimal amount of cooking vessels. There was clothing for everybody right down to a coat for Dreyfus and specially designed footwear to keep the pads of his feet warm and dry.

  "There is one thing,” Merlin said when they were all ready. “I'm allowed to use sorcery to survey the territory from the top of Mount Cook and to bring us down again. Would anyone care for a scenic trip?"

  There was a general chorus of delighted assent. Dreyfus joined in, jumping around in his strange footwear and barking, as Peter put it, “like a complete idiot."

  "Okay. Now hang onto each other and at least one of you hang onto me. Everybody ready?"

  They all chorused “yes” and Merlin bent his concentrated gaze on the peak in the near distance. The boys closed their eyes, expecting the spinning sensation. Instead, they felt their feet leave the ground and realized they were rising upwards and over the boulder-strewn stream toward the line of snowcapped peaks. They opened their eyes and drank in the panorama below. The higher they went the more they could see: behind them a lake in the distance, golden-green pasture dotted with sheep, and the stream, now faster-running and turning into a shallow branching river as they drew closer to the mountains.

  Then they were amongst the peaks, with Mount Cook towering above them, and the view below was mostly black and white. It seemed to stretch forever and its immensity took their breath away. Awe kept them silent. Gradually the summit of Mount Cook loomed ahead and before Peter could gain any lasting impression they were standing on its highest point, taking in great lungfuls of clean, thin air.

  "Breathe normally,” Merlin said. “I can't help you readjust your lungs if you're going to gulp like starving babies."

  They did as they were told and within seconds it felt as though they had always breathed high mountain air.

  "Now,” Merlin said when they were all breathing comfortably, “what was it the Prophet of Doom said? ‘Follow the secret mountain route, as revealed to you on the roof of the islands'. This,” and he indicated the snow-covered rock beneath their feet, “is the roof of the three islands which make up this country. Have a good look at the surroundings while I persuade the mountain to reveal the secret route—you might not have another opportunity and very few people get a chance to stand on the summit of Mount Cook."

  He stepped forward a few paces nearer the edge and looked down to a sheer drop of hundreds of meters. The boys stayed where they were and looked around. It was a very clear summer day and the view seemed endless. Down in the distant valleys they could see the lakes, looking like blue puddles from that distance.

  On the other side the view was vastly different, with great endless rain forests stretching into the distance to the Tasman Sea. It was difficult to tell where sea stopped and sky began. The more they looked the more difficult it became. They turned their attention to the eastern side. A shout from Merlin drew their attention. “I've got it! Look!"

  They looked in the direction in which he pointed. The route was marked like a black line running over a map. They all stood still trying to memorize it.

  In so doing they missed the gradual buildup on the horizon. A large, black cloud had formed. It moved slowly their way, gradually gaining momentum.

  Merlin turned to face the three boys. He waved something that looked like a map. In turning, however, he caught sight of the advancing cloud. Horror widened his eyes. He shouted something none of them understood. Crushing the paper into a ball, he hurled it in Peter's direction.

  Peter, alive to the presence of evil, reached forward and grabbed it. It tingled the entire length of his spine and the hairs at the nape of his neck prickled. He didn't see what happened, but was aware of a sudden blotting out of the sun.

  A streak of lightning flashed out of nowhere. It hit the ground beneath the sorcerer's feet. Boys and dog barely had time to jump backwards. There was a mighty rumble of rocks and ice grinding together. Four terrified pairs of eyes watched as what seemed like half the side of Mount Cook collapsed beneath Merlin's feet. Merlin gave one cry like a soul in anguish. Then snow and rocks crashed around and on top of him. He disappeared. More rocks and hard-packed snow followed. Their mighty blast reverberated over the mountains. As the echoes died away, a few small stones rattled down the shattered mountain face.

  In the silence that followed, Peter, Jamie and John looked at each other, aghast. Jamie swallowed and spoke first. “He could—he could be still alive. He—he might have used his magic—"

  Gingerly he moved toward the exposed black rock.

  "No!” Peter shouted, hauling him back. “He didn't have time to use any spells. And even Merlin couldn't escape getting killed with tons of ice, snow and rocks falling on top of him. He isn't immortal. Besides, if he is still alive there's nothing we can do for him. We've no means of communicating with the rescue people, no climbing skills and no equipment. Without Merlin we're trapped because we don't have Merlin's powers to help us. And we haven't yet developed our own."

  Only with their predicament put into words did the three boys realize
its seriousness. And so vast was their fear and horror that their grief for the loss of their leader was briefly postponed.

  It was John who put their thoughts into tremulous words. “We're going to die."

  Chapter 10

  The City of the Dead

  AS THOUGH to emphasize John's cry, another small section of the mountain broke away and they heard the rocks and pebbles rattling down the scarred face left by the avalanche. They stood in silence for some minutes. The sun shone again and a gentle breeze played around them. It was as though the disaster had never happened.

  Peter spoke tentatively. “If we could reach the Lady—"

  Jamie jerked his head up. His eyes were blazing. “How? We need magic powers to do that."

  "No, no,” Peter insisted. “I'm sure she has a way of keeping in touch with us that we don't know of—that we can't feel. Maybe Merlin was able to let her know he was in danger."

  "How could he have had time for that?” Jamie asked bitterly. “He barely had time to throw that paper to you."

  Peter had forgotten the screwed-up piece of paper. He smoothed it out. “It's a map. It's the route that we saw from here before—before the accident."

  They had all forgotten the black line marching through the valleys and foothills below. Looking down, they saw it had vanished.

  "Merlin went to a lot of trouble to make sure we got this before he fell. There must be a reason.” Peter bent to study the map again. “It doesn't tell us how to get from the top of the mountain to where the line begins. It—it starts near the foot of Mount Cook on the avalanche side."

  The other two craned their necks to look.

  "It's not very helpful at all,” Jamie said, frowning. “Besides, I should think walking at the foot of the mountain on that side would be dangerous at the moment. There's no knowing whether another avalanche will start."