The Lord of Obsidian [Quest for Earthlight Trilogy Book 2]

by Laraine Anne Barker

  Semi-darkness greeted him, and it seemed to be moving and changing. It took a few seconds for him to realise it wasn't the darkness itself that moved but a crowd of half-seen shapes. All of them emitted a sensation of evil. Peter's eyes fought to pierce the gloom. Where was he? The only thing that was clear was that he wasn't in the forest.

  He struggled to sit up and flinched as his sore buttock felt the hardness of the ground. He scrambled to his feet. Nobody tried to stop him.

  "Sujad the Traitor!” His challenge resounded strangely.

  "No one uses that name in this domain!” a voice snarled from the darkness. “I am the Lord of Obsidian and shall be addressed as such. If you want to get out of here unharmed you will treat me with the respect due to my position. My servants know what to do with those who oppose me."

  Unseen presences crowded up to Peter, evil and threatening. He shrank back, only to find them behind him as well. Then something seemed to touch his brain—something slimy and repellent. A whirling blackness filled with evil and despair seized him. He remembered the last time this technique had been used on him. It was the first Lord of Corruption—the man calling himself a retired scientist—who had subjected him to it. Again he felt painful pressure exerted inside his skull.

  He gasped and shrieked, “What do you want?"

  "That's no way to talk to my master!” a voice shrilled out of the darkness.

  Something clawed at Peter's face, missing him by a hair's breadth as he dodged away. Briefly, now that his eyes were adjusted to the gloom, he saw the face of the speaker. It was the gremlin that had stood on the banks of the underground pool guarding the Book of Obsidian after Sujad had first taken it.

  "Leave him be for the time being, Gromac. Your tactics are useful only as a last resort.” Sujad turned from the gremlin to Peter. “You know very well what I want. Give me the Book of Obsidian."

  Peter took a deep breath to still his thumping heart. “I told you, I haven't got it.” He strove to keep his voice steady and reached up to touch the Token of Power around his neck. Before his hand even reached halfway, invisible fingers closed over his, crushing them. He yelped involuntarily.

  "None of your tricks with dragons!” Sujad snapped. “And stop telling schoolboy lies!” He roared out the last command. At the same time Peter felt the pressure on his brain again. He steeled himself to endure. Sujad's voice continued with quiet menace, “You know very well you have the book. A Chosen One cannot have something hidden on him without his knowing about it."

  "Well, tell me how to find out where it is then. And how am I supposed to think with you trying to squeeze the life out of my brain?” At the same time his mind screamed, “Dreyfus! Dreyfus!"

  Someone replied, but it was certainly not Dreyfus. “You will have to give him the Book of Obsidian, Chosen One!” The slow, deep voice spoke into his mind.

  Peter nearly sobbed aloud with both relief and dismay.

  "Essence of Obsidian!” he cried in mind-speech. “Don't let him take the book—please! Surely you can do something to stop him!"

  "Let Sujad the Great, Lord of Obsidian, have the book,” the Essence of Obsidian said gently but insistently.

  "Why? Why?” Tears of frustration and anger pricked Peter's eyes.

  "Because I want you to."

  "There you are—even the Power of Obsidian finally recognizes me as its Lord and Master!"

  Peter sensed that, while Sujad didn't actually hear its voice, the Essence of Obsidian had deliberately let the man know the gist of what it had said.

  "How do I let him have the book?” he asked sadly. “I don't know where it is."

  "Just give it to him. I will reverse Merlin's spell for you,” the Essence of Obsidian replied. And suddenly the Book of Obsidian was visible in Peter's hand.

  The book glowed faintly in the dimness of its vile surroundings. Peter looked down at it but couldn't see it properly through the film of tears he tried to choke back. It seemed criminal to leave so great a jewel in such an ugly, foul-smelling setting with such a tyrant as its master. He was saved the humiliation of being forced to physically hand the book to Sujad, who leaned over and snatched it.

  Peter's mind was suddenly released from the pressure Sujad had been exerting. Even through his anguish at the loss of the Book of Obsidian—and therefore the Essence of Obsidian itself—relief surged through him at the pain's disappearance. Sujad's cackles echoed around the ghoul-filled darkness.

  "Okay, Gromac, you can do what you like with him now. But don't let him get away, whatever you do, or I'll take it out on your hide. He's our prisoner until we've won our final battle in the war against his masters."

  Peter glimpsed the gremlin's evil grinning face as it moved forward. Others of its ilk followed. Sujad's cackles filled the darkness again, echoing and reechoing around him.

  He felt something claw-like grab his arm. He tried wrenching himself away, but another set of claws closed around his other arm.

  "Essence of Obsidian, help me!” he cried in mind-speech. “Don't let them take me prisoner as well as yourself!"

  The gremlins’ cackles rose to join those of their master. Then, as the echoes died away to nothing, the vortex grabbed Peter again. As it whirled him into darkness he thought he heard the terrible laughter change to shrieks. What are they doing to me? Where are they taking me? Why wasn't the Essence of Obsidian able to help me?

  When he came to, Peter was lying on his back on the forest floor with Dreyfus anxiously licking his face. There was no sign of Argent. He sat up, and flinched as his right buttock touched the ground. He looked around fearfully for the gremlins. With the exception of Dreyfus, however, he was alone. He winced again as he tried to push the dog away.

  "Ouch! That one was no dream, Dreyfus. Sujad the Traitor really did come and take the Book of Obsidian.” He stood up, dusted himself down and anxiously scanned the depths of the forest. He frowned, his heart beginning to beat uncomfortably. “We're lost, old boy, and now Argent's deserted us. She'll find her own way home all right, but Bart will be terribly worried about us. It's a long walk to the farmhouse. I hope you jolly well know your way.” He looked at the dog hopefully. “Home to dinner, Dreyfus!"

  Dreyfus merely looked at him.

  "Which way, Dreyfus old boy?"

  Dreyfus's answer sent shock thrilling down Peter's spine. The dog jerked his head to one side, ears pricked and eyes wide. Then, after emitting one long howl, he loped off. He went a few yards and looked back to make sure Peter was following. Peter could think of nothing better himself, so he let Dreyfus have his head, his mind busy trying to work out how much damage had been done to the Earthlight's cause by the loss of the Essence of Obsidian.

  Despite himself, tears pricked his eyes as he thought of the Essence of Obsidian at the mercy of Sujad Cariotis. Why did the Essence of Obsidian make Sujad release me but not itself?

  Too engrossed in his thoughts to notice Dreyfus pick up speed, Peter realised he was alone only when he didn't know which direction to take. He stopped and peered around anxiously. The near-darkness that had engulfed the forest since the thunderclap and the arrival of Sujad had deepened. He opened his mouth to call for Dreyfus.

  But his summons remained unuttered. Just ahead a light suddenly darted and flickered between the trees. It grew steadily larger. Although the tract of forest where Peter stood remained unlit, the fingers of light reached out to right and left ahead of him until a large area of the forest shimmered with silvery-white light.

  He stood for a full minute watching in wonder before curiosity made him walk towards it. He had almost forgotten Dreyfus. Somewhere, vaguely, in the back of his mind he expected to find his dog at the heart of the light.

  Suddenly a twig snapped under his feet, making him start. He hadn't realised how quiet the forest had become. The light pulsed constantly but stopped spreading. He sent his mind probing forward, searching. Incredibly, he could feel nothing tangible ahead. It was as though only a harmless light was there.
I can't feel any ill will coming from it, but I've had enough conflict with the Evil One and his Lords of Corruption to last me a lifetime. They get more and more powerful. It could be just another of their traps.

  He pushed his way through the last of the trees surrounding the circle of light and stood on the perimeter for a few seconds probing with both mind and eyes. However, he could see nothing inside the light, while his questing mind encountered a blank.

  But there must be something there. Lights don't appear without something or someone behind them. Even lightning has an explanation. There was only one explanation he could think of for the presence of the light in the forest. His heart jumped wildly. The Earthlight! he thought excitedly. It must be the Earthlight!

  Without more ado, he stepped into the circle of light.

  Chapter 10

  The Little Wax Doll

  PETER WAS instantly blinded by the brightness of the surrounding light. No matter where he looked, he could see nothing. His heart thumped painfully and a feeling of extreme vulnerability engulfed him. Whatever's out there must be able to see everything. It can see my fear, while I have no idea what it is—whether it's good or bad. Instinctively he made to retreat, and found that at least he could move. He managed only one step back, however. Somebody—or something—spoke from the brilliance.

  "Well done, young Chosen One.” The voice ended in a deep chuckle.

  For heart-stopping moments Peter couldn't identify the voice. Had the Essence of Obsidian sacrificed itself for his freedom, only for him to blunder into yet another of Sujad's traps? He looked directly ahead, trying not to flinch from the blinding brilliance. “Who is it?"

  "What! Don't you recognize me? I thought we were friends."

  The glaring light went out, and Peter was surrounded by darkness in which a throbbing sensation reached out to him, growing into a dim light that pulsed inwards at him. Instant recognition hit him as he realised concave walls surrounded him.

  "Essence of Obsidian! But where are you? Where am I? Are we both in Sujad's evil domain?” The thought made his heart pound again. “Why did you allow him to take you prisoner?” He couldn't keep the accusation out of his voice.

  The Essence of Obsidian chuckled richly. “Whatever I am, I'm not an idiot. Unfortunately, in order to fool Sujad I had to let you believe I was willing to allow myself to become his slave. What Sujad actually has is not the Book of Obsidian but just a shell. The book is empty without my presence. I'm still with you, hidden from all eyes by the power of Merlin's spell. Merlin's spell allowed me to separate myself from the book. We can only hope it will be a long time before Sujad discovers he's been tricked. As for where we are—well, we're in the Forest of the Earthlight. Where else should we be? I saw how Sujad frightened your pony and knew he meant to get you lost to make it easier for him to take you prisoner, too. I didn't wish to show myself so I tried to get Dreyfus to lead you to this part of the forest. But Sujad was smarter than I. I'm sorry your pony bolted when Sujad attacked you and I've brought her back for you. As you assumed, she was on her way home. Before I go, I'd like you to know that I have a window on Sujad's domain through the Book of Obsidian so I can keep an eye on him for you. As Lord of Obsidian his nature won't allow him to destroy the book. I'll leave you now. Just get Argent to follow Dreyfus and you'll reach home safely."

  "Wait! Wait!"

  "Yes?” The pulsing light that was the Essence of Obsidian flickered wildly before returning to its normal steady pulsing.

  "Maybe you can help me with something else."

  "I'll do my best. It's what I'm here for. What is it?"

  "Because Merlin's not around—and anyway he and the Lady have their hands full—I was going to ask Bart. But maybe you'd be of more help."

  "Rest assured I'll do what I can."

  "You must have met Morgause. She tried to use the Obsidian Orb once."

  "Ah, yes! A lady calculated to strike terror into the heart of the strongest and most heroic man. What about her?"

  Peter snorted—a sound very much like what Merlin might have made. “Lady! She's an evil witch. She's made a wax image of me—it's very lifelike—using some strands of my hair and a handkerchief from my bed at the inn where she kept me a prisoner. I want to know what I should do about it."

  "Ah!” The Essence of Obsidian sounded thoughtful. “How does she propose to use the doll? After all, you both live in different times, not to mention different lands. If someone sticks pins into an image of a person who hasn't been born yet it's not likely to work when the victim is finally born, because the image and the ill-wisher will no longer be in existence."

  "That's no problem for Morgause. Her lover is Jadus Castirio, Sujad's son and a Lord of Corruption. Morgause might not be able to come to the twentieth-century herself, but the Evil One—or Sujad perhaps—can send Jadus back to her to pick up the wax image."

  "Interesting,” the Essence of Obsidian reflected, dryly. “He will find his lady love, his enchanting goddess, has discarded him in favor of a crown and the title of Queen of Lothian and Orkney."

  "That's Morgause's problem. The question is what can I do about the wax image?"

  There was a short silence. “Don't worry about it. You'll be capable of dealing with it when the time comes."

  Peter sighed. “Is that all you can say? I was hoping for more concrete help."

  He waited hopefully. Then, just as he was about to apologize for what he abruptly realised sounded like rude ingratitude, the Power of Obsidian replied. But its answer was inaudible. Peter simply felt the nucleus of the light that was the Essence of Obsidian gently caress his mind, soothing away the anguish and worry, as it had done once previously.

  Before he had a chance to thank the Essence of Obsidian and make his apology, the pulsing light went out. He was standing in what looked like a recently planted part of the forest. The trees were no more than eight feet tall—and most were considerably less. Of course, this must be what Bart calls his Christmas tree plantation.

  Then he saw Argent and Dreyfus about a dozen paces away. Dreyfus ran to him, barking. Argent lifted her silvery head, gave a whinny of greeting and trotted over. More light reached into the grove of small pine trees than in the forest proper, and it turned Argent into a creature of wondrous beauty, making her look as though molded from pure silver.

  "To think when Uncle Paul first offered to take me horse-riding last summer I would have preferred a bicycle.” Desperately he tried to protect his face from Dreyfus's tongue while attempting to keep Argent's nose from his jacket pocket, where he had placed the second of Susan's apples.

  "Come on, you two, it's time we were getting home."

  At the mention of the word home, Dreyfus pricked his ears and lifted his head, while a strange light entered his eyes. He looked inquiringly at Peter.

  "Off you go.” Peter put his foot in the stirrup and swung his leg over Argent's back. “Home, girl,” he commanded, and they all moved off.

  In no time at all they were back on the bridle track, arriving at the farmhouse with no one any the wiser as to their adventures.

  Susan Brown was in the office working when Peter arrived, but a delicious aroma from the kitchen set his mouth watering and his insides rumbling. No one was there and the only appliance that seemed to be on was what looked to Peter like an electric casserole cooker. Curiosity getting the better of him, he lifted the lid. An aroma like a mixture of spiced ham and pea soup filled his nostrils. Apart from the meat and an onion spiked with cloves, at least half the space was taken up by something round tied in a white bag.

  "Dinner will be a while yet. Are you so hungry you plan to raid the crock-pot before the meat's ready?” a soft voice chuckled behind him, and he turned to find Susan standing in the doorway, her eyes alight with amusement.

  Peter flushed with embarrassment and hastily replaced the lid. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

  Susan Brown smiled broadly “No need to apologize, lad. It's only natural you should want to
know what's for dinner. Bart always does. We'd like you to consider this your home while you're here.” She chuckled again at Peter's puzzled expression. “It's boiled bacon and pease pudding—a favorite dish from the old country. Bart likes it served with a curry sauce. If you're hungry how about a cuppa and some chocolate biscuits?"

  She was rewarded by Peter's sudden wide grin. Really, she thought, it's amazing the difference it makes when this kid smiles. He's one of those rare creatures whose face is transformed from plainness into beauty simply by the addition of a grin and, although he's a rather serious boy, it's easy to bring a smile to his face.

  Peter himself was thinking similar thoughts about Susan Brown.

  "Oh, thanks. That would be great. I'm thirsty after that ride."

  Briskly Susan put the kettle on and brought out plates and mugs. “Do you like chocolate sultana pasties or would you prefer milk chocolate oaties?"

  Peter couldn't help wincing as he recalled the last time he had sat munching chocolate sultana pasties. Gosh! It was only last night. It seems like ages ago. The recollection brought his thoughts back to the loss of the Obsidian Orb and everything it meant. Then determinedly he wrenched his mind back to his hostess. “Whichever one you've already opened."

  Within a few minutes Peter was sitting opposite Susan Brown munching chocolate sultana pasties and sipping from a steaming mug of tea.

  "What do you think of Argent?” Susan said, much to Peter's surprise.

  The broad grin lit Peter's face again. “She's smashing. Much better than the pony I rode last time I was here."

  "Ah yes. Bart told me how your uncle had brought you over for a ride as a birthday present. I thought at the time it was a strange present for a boy who'd never ridden before, but Bart said you'd expressed a wish to learn."

  Peter, now aware that Susan was quizzing him, tried not to look surprised. I wonder why Bart told her that.

  "Your uncle said not to tell you just yet, but I reckon you'll get so attached to Argent while you're here that you should know. He bought the pony specially for you and pays Bart board and lodging for her, as it were."