"We'd better stop here,” he said as they came to an area where the trees weren't crowding right up to the road.
The clearing was small but adequate. They placed the cups of water they had all been carrying on the ground and unpacked and ate their rations of food in silence. Then each, as though by unspoken consent, drained the water in his cup. Peter shared his with Dreyfus. Having repacked their bags, they set forth again.
They walked, as they had for most of the journey, in silence. This time, however, each was buried in his own thoughts. Jamie and John were thinking about their mother and how anxious she must be. Peter's distress was even worse as he imagined Aunt Angela in the hands of the Enemy. How could he go about rescuing her? Where was she? Had they harmed her? How could he tell her about her husband's death?
Nobody noticed the deepening gloom. Dreyfus was the only one showing uneasiness. But for some reason he didn't whine. Instead, he kept a watchful eye on the forest. Gradually his attention focused on one area ahead. A rumble of thunder drew the boys’ attention upward. They therefore missed the beginning of a growl deep in the dog's throat.
The thunder died into the distance. Losing interest, the boys brought their attention back to the road. Three hearts felt as though they stopped in terror as something moved out of the trees ahead. It was an animal, tawny and as large as a lion. And it blocked their path. Huge muscles rippled in massive shoulders. Three broad heads reared from between those shoulders. Three cavernous mouths opened wide. Six rows of yellow fangs displayed their power. Each tooth was the size of a man's thumb with points that looked as sharp as needles. A baying like a pack of hounds in full cry rent the air.
"Cerberus!” the twins cried in terrified unison.
Chapter 12
The City of Light
THE BOYS stood staring, all action and thought arrested by sheer terror. Peter was totally unaware Dreyfus had moved forward. The dog stood in front of them facing the three-headed monster. His message to his three-headed enemy was clear: ‘Go away or I'll attack.’ Cerberus, however, took no notice. His very disregard of Dreyfus was a measure of his contempt. ‘You have only one set of teeth, while I have three,’ might have been his message, for he lost no opportunity to show all three sets. A triple snarl emphasized the hugeness of those yellow fangs.
Peter became aware too late of Dreyfus's intention to attack. As the dog launched himself forward, he yelled, “Dreyfus, no!" He made to grab the dog's collar, unmindful of his own safety. But neither dog nor boy came anywhere near the three-headed creature. With a scream that seemed to be a mixture of fear and pain, it vanished. Dreyfus, whining with frustration, sniffed around for his enemy's tracks, but found no trail to follow.
"That's the creature that was guarding us in the cave,” Jamie said shakily. “Why did it go away so easily?"
"I think it sensed we had drunk water from the grotto,” Peter answered. “The water must be offensive to the Enemy and his servants. Maybe we should have regular sips of it to ward off any more attacks."
Before the others could answer, the sound of clopping hooves coming from behind made them whirl. With one accord they dashed for the edge of the forest and hid in the undergrowth. It was damp underfoot and smelled of moss and decaying leaves. Peter received a quick impression of trees and ferns dripping with mossy growth before turning his attention back to the road. As they peered through the leaves, the most amazing sight came into view: a large, old-fashioned horse and trap—an incongruous sight to three city boys. But the driver was more astonishing. His beard and long hair were black. He wore sandals and a black robe down to his ankles, and on his head was a tall pointed black hat that screamed its wearer was a wizard.
He drew level with the bushes where Dreyfus and the boys crouched and halted the horse. Dark eyes looked piercingly in their direction. “You three might as well come out. The dog, too. I'll give you all a lift.” The stranger's voice was cheerful and friendly.
Despite the man's odd appearance and the fact they were not sure of his trustworthiness, they stood up with unquestioning obedience. Somehow the man's voice brooked no denial.
"Are you really a wizard?"
The twinkling dark eyes looked at Jamie keenly. “Well, what do I look like, young man? Yes, I am indeed a wizard. I've come to take you to ... a certain city.” None of them missed the significant pause.
"How do you know where we're going?” Jamie asked.
The cheerful face dissolved into serious lines. “Some time ago I was approached by Merlin, the Enchanter of Arthur's Court and the Great One of the Earthlight. I was asked to present myself at a certain place at a specific time to take three boys called Peter, Jamie and John, and a dog named Dreyfus, to a city in a country known as Erewhon. It seemed a simple enough request at the time—but coming from one so skilled in the art of sorcery I did wonder if there was more to it. I promised, therefore, to do my utmost to help you in whatever it is you're doing."
"But you're not a proper wizard!” Jamie protested. “You look more like a cartoon than a wizard—like something from a Terry Pratchett book."
The wizard looked pained. “I am indeed a ‘proper’ wizard, as you so inelegantly put it. I have been through all the necessary training to call myself so. The fact that I'm not a wizard of the High Crafts like Merlin has nothing to do with it. In fact I'm a wizard of the Lesser Crafts. But a wizard nonetheless. I can't prove it to you because I've left my certificates at home, but I can prove Merlin sent me. He gave me this to show you as a token of my good faith."
He fumbled in a pocket hidden in his robe and brought out something, which he held out to them on the palm of his hand. Peter put a restraining hand on his two friends. I'm not going to be caught by a trick like that, he thought grimly.
The wizard looked at him sharply. “Oh dear! You're every bit as suspicious as Merlin said you'd be."
He turned his wrist upward so the hand faced them, as though he was a priest about to give them his blessing. But clasped in the palm they saw something familiar.
"It's Merlin's Token of Power!” Jamie cried.
No one else had time to say anything for, as the light caught the dragon on the Token of Power, it sent a reddish beam out to them. The ray enveloped them—and instantly they all knew the funny-looking man was indeed Merlin's emissary.
Peter rushed forward and clambered into the trap. There was barely enough room for them all and as soon as they were settled, the wizard shook the reins and the horse trotted off at a smart pace.
Peter's head was buzzing with questions. “Did you see the three-headed dog that threatened us before you came up?"
The wizard turned in his seat to give Peter a sharp look. “Ah! So Cerberus is about. I must admit I'd rather not face him. How did you manage to deal with him?"
Peter told him about the avalanche, the burial cavern and the grotto, ending with the apparent magic qualities of the water from the pool. The wizard looked suitably impressed and nodded his approval.
"You're doing very well. It's obvious you don't need me—except for transport to Erewhon. Talking of which,” he ended in his bright, happy-go-lucky voice, “we'd better get a move on."
He turned his attention back to the road and gave the reins a brisk shake. With a proud toss of his head, the horse increased his speed.
For the rest of the journey the wizard entertained the boys with witty stories of his exploits as a wizard in the entertainment world, performing such tricks as he was able to while driving the horse and trap. They arrived on the outskirts of Erewhon's city long before they had time to tire of his talents. They passed through several small villages but saw nobody before they had their first sight of the city.
The wizard reined in the horse sharply. He drew in his breath with a fierce hissing sound. The three boys sat craning their necks, their mouths open in astonishment and dismay.
The whole city had been razed to the ground. From where they sat they saw not one undamaged building.
Peter s
crambled from the trap. “I don't see what good we can do here."
The others followed him in silence and they stood in the road looking at the ruined city. The wizard frowned at the wreckage and turned abruptly to the boys.
"I must leave you here. I'm needed elsewhere.” With this he raised his hand and he and his horse and trap vanished.
Reluctantly, with Dreyfus keeping close to his side, Peter led the way into the remains of the once fine city. The destruction was recent and Peter remembered the scene in the home of Nostradamus when Merlin had taken his first look into the Obsidian Orb. He could hear again Merlin's anguished cries as his gaze swept the desolation around him: “My friends! My friends! All killed!"
Peter shuddered. So this was the work of the Enemy. The extent of the devastation when seen at first hand was frightening beyond belief. He remembered the row upon row of stone coffins in the two burial chambers. He realized, with constricting horror, that he and his friends had probably not seen that chilling underground ‘city's’ full extent. The coffins they had seen had contained intact bodies, whereas many hundreds—possibly thousands—of victims must have been crushed to death.
"Halt! What do you want?"
At the harsh cry from behind they spun round. Peter found himself staring down the barrel of a shotgun, aimed by a handsome young man with dark hair and light olive complexion. The man's good looks, however, were marred by an aggressive scowl. Behind him two more men advanced, shotguns also aimed in their direction. Peter was quick-witted enough to grab Dreyfus's collar before the dog could do little more than start a growl deep in his throat.
The first man pushed the barrel of the gun into Peter's face. “Who are you and what do you want?"
"We've been sent by Merlin the Enchanter to help you in any way we can.” Peter spoke more bravely than he felt.
The scowl turned into a vicious sneer. “Doesn't Merlin think he's done enough damage? He's responsible for all this.” The speaker jabbed the shotgun toward the nearest pile of ruins. “Now he's adding insult to injury by sending three children and a dog to ‘help’ us!"
"Where's Sujad Cariotis? He'll vouch for us."
The man burst into mirthless laughter. “Who's Cariotis? I've never heard of him. What sort of name is that for an Erewhonian? There's no one in Erewhon by that name. It sounds Greek. And Sujad sounds Indian."
"He was brought from Erewhon's past into the present by Merlin because he wanted to be educated in a twentieth-century English university."
"Oh! Oh, now I know who you mean. I never knew what his name was. He must have stayed in the English present, then, because he definitely left no descendants in Erewhon or we would certainly know his name. An Erewhonian is a nobody without descendants. Merlin's certainly lost his touch, hasn't he, allowing an Erewhonian to be deprived of his birthright?"
"Merlin's dead,” Peter said quietly, standing his ground in spite of quaking heart and trembling limbs. “He died in an avalanche on his way here to help your people."
The man frowned, plainly puzzled. “Merlin's able to travel through time and space to get anywhere he wants to go. Why would he need to cross the mountains to get here?"
"He needed time to build up his powers every so often. His various battles with evil left him weakened. Also, he was initiating me and my friends into our roles as four of the Chosen Ones of Earthlight. We saw him fall. What powers he possessed, he used to protect us from the disaster that befell him."
The man paused irresolutely. Then he gave a dismissive shrug, as much as to say, ‘Oh well, what harm could three children and a dog do?'
"Okay. But I'd still like to know how you're supposed to help us. Our dead are all at rest. Our village hospitals are coping with the few wounded. It's food, water, and shelter we need for the survivors. The villagers are all doing their best, but they can't cope. How are you supposed to provide us with food, water and shelter?"
Peter blinked at the gunman, his mind suddenly blank. Into the blankness came the most unexpected words Peter could have imagined. They arrived from nowhere and he wasn't sure whether someone else put them there or whether they were his own thoughts.
"Take us to the foundation stone of your city.” The men gaped and their faces turned ugly with suspicion again. Peter looked at the leader. “The foundation stone is still intact, isn't it?"
The man's mouth fell open. “W-well—y-yes—but how did you know it was the only thing that wasn't destroyed?"
"Never mind. Just take us there, please.” The uncharacteristically authoritative tone of their friend's voice astonished Jamie and John, especially considering the menace of the shotguns. “And put those guns away,” Peter ended as the men attempted to use their guns to shepherd the boys and the dog before them.
Obediently the men lowered their shotguns, the first man leading the way and the others taking up the rear. As they walked Peter tried hard to remember the city as he had last seen it—well over a hundred and fifty years ago, he realized dazedly. There was nothing he could recognize. With no landmarks standing he had no way of working out if they were walking through the streets he and Merlin had trodden.
Some time later they came to what had been the town square—the heart of the city. The fractured limbs of once noble trees lay scattered in the rubble of buildings, paving stones, park benches and broken fountains. At the center of the square, however, the foundation stone with its dedication remained intact. Surprisingly, the dedication was legible. Cold tremors trickled down Peter's spine as he read:
"This city in the hidden country of Erewhon is hereby dedicated by the Great One to the cause of the Earthlight, where it shall be known as the City of Light. A great number of the inhabitants of this city will populate the City of the Reborn. And this city in the hidden country of Erewhon shall thereby be no more. From the ruins of the city of Erewhon shall be raised the City of Light."
One of the armed men standing behind Peter read the inscription over Peter's shoulder. “That's strange. I've never read that before, and I've passed the foundation stone often enough."
The other two joined him and read the dedication in their turn.
"I've read it often enough,” one of them said, “but I don't remember it saying that. In fact,” he added in bewilderment, “I don't remember what it did say."
Peter stood with his hand on the stone. He'd hardly heard a word of the conversation, for a confusion of images had started flashing through his mind. A disembodied voice spoke, apparently coming from the stone: “Now is the time for the City of Light to be raised. Simon Peter, son of Arthur the Pendragon, pass the palm of your hands over the inscription and tell us what the City of Light is like."
"How can I describe something I've barely seen? I saw very little of the city when I came with Merlin to have the Obsidian Orb refashioned—"
The voice interrupted him, impatiently. “No—no. The hidden city of Erewhon has gone forever. This is the foundation stone of the City of Light. It is your choice as the only living Pendragon to decree how the city will be built. Tell us what it looks like."
"But I know nothing about architecture."
"Knowledge is unimportant. Bring forward your dreams. Reach into your heart and see the most beautiful city you can imagine. While you do so pass the palms of your hands back and forth over the writing."
Peter closed his eyes, placed his hands on the writing and strove to concentrate. He saw wide, smooth streets and pavements and beautiful trees growing on grassy strips along every street. He saw sweeping green lawns and long drives and glorious gardens. He heard tinkling fountains and saw large houses built of white marble with imposing columns rising high, each set back from the road in its own garden. He saw parks full of trees and gardens and every park had a lake with ducks and swans and other wildlife. There were fountains among the flower beds and peaceful places to sit and to walk.
And somewhere there was a grotto full of ferns and other plants that love shade and moisture; and the grotto had a dark pool w
ith a silvery surface fed by the hand of a beautiful white lady, who brooded no more but smiled at the bounty pouring from her hand.
Thoughts of the grotto sent his mind back to the crypt and he strove to see each coffin uninhabited and then to picture the great cavern empty. To his surprise there was a great wall of resistance and he was unable to visualize anything at all. When he tried harder his mind blundered around like a fly in syrup. The refusal became like a solid wall pushing him back. Peter drew in a great gasping breath like someone returning from the depths of the sea and opened his eyes....
...and he saw the city of his dreams below him. No longer was he pinned to the ground by gravity. Instead he floated high above the marbled houses, each a palace in its own right. He could make himself move in whatever direction he chose and could go lower or higher at will. He saw all the fountains, gardens, parks and streets—and it was more magnificent than what he had seen behind the darkness of his closed eyes.
He looked for the grotto and found it in a hillside in a forest park—and it was the only setback he suffered. Although it was as beautiful as he had imagined, there was no mystical spell, for there was no marble lady offering her bounteous gift: the pool stood empty in the filtered green light.
The Obsidian Quest [Search for Earthlight Trilogy Book 1] Page 13