by Glen L. Hall
A look of profound disbelief crossed Oscar’s face. ‘That is a message that was delivered to me a long time ago! If you’re certain that it was me who delivered it, then we have very little time. You’ve done well to reach me, for no doubt the Shadow will have come through the Fall. Tell me quickly all that has happened since we met. Come now, speak – you look as confused as I did all those years ago!’
Sam opened his mouth, but then came a noise that stopped him in his tracks, a low thrum that seemed to break across all their thoughts. They watched as a thousand tiny ripples skittered across the surface of the pond.
‘Ah. It would appear that you have led the Shadow to me.’ Oscar said the words quietly, almost to himself.
The heavy thrum cam again. This time made their vision jump. It seemed to be getting louder, perhaps closer.
Oscar resumed, speaking quickly, ‘Today is not the day for a history lesson, but to offer you a little of what I know is a start. Two thousand years ago the borderland became the scene of a war between two peoples from the Otherland, a collection of lands entangled through the Dead Water. The Faeries and Grim people fought a war that raged for many years. At the time they did not realise it, but the magic they used against each other fractured their lands and let a great darkness into both their worlds. We named it the Ruin, but we never truly understood its nature or its reason for existing. Perhaps we never will.
‘A terrible war was waged to keep the Ruin from passing from the Otherland to the Mid-land, but it was a war that could not be won against such an enemy. The Faeries and the Grim people came together, seeking help from the Druids, who dwelt in the Mid-land. It was they who led a fellowship into the Darkhart.
‘The Druids called upon a magic only they could speak with – the First Light, the flow from the beginning of time. As they fought the Ruin, they sacrificed themselves and were trapped in the Darkhart. Trapped with them was the most powerful of the Dagda’s daughters, Brigit. Together they created a circle, the Circle of Druidae, and Brigit became the Druid-Fall, or simply the Fall, the barrier that holds back the Ruin.’
Sam felt a shudder pass through the ground beneath his feet and the moonlight flickered as if something had passed through it. Oscar chose to ignore it.
‘The Druids thought that their magic would be eternal, but we know now the Druid-Fall can only exist whilst they do. Now their Circle is broken, and the Fall endangered. She is dying, but she can be reborn.’
He let his words sink in, his eyes settling on Emily.
‘Who were the Druids?’ Sam asked.
‘No one knows where they came from, only that they chose to dwell in the Mid-land and could speak to the flow.’
‘And they sacrificed themselves?’ Sam didn’t like the sound of this.
‘Most, but not all. Some came back. And since then, they have had helpers in the Mid-land, the Keepers of the Druids, men who study their lore and preserve their bloodline. The Shadow has been sent to eliminate this bloodline. If it succeeds, then when the time comes again to complete the Circle, as it will, there will be no one left to do so.’
‘So, does—?’ Sam was interrupted by a haunting wail that echoed through the mist. It was a sound to break a man’s courage.
‘Even now,’ said Oscar, ‘the Shadow seeks a way in. Come along, follow me.’
He rose to his feet and stretched before offering them a hand each. Sam found it warm to the touch and felt a tingling as their hands met.
No sooner had they stepped away from the pond than they were enveloped in a strange half-light. Static electricity seemed to crackle both inside and outside Sam’s head. Emily felt it as an invisible spider’s web that was impossible to brush off.
Just ahead, the landscape unravelled as it had done in the tapestry. They could no longer tell whether they were walking forward or whether the ground beneath their feet was coming to meet them. There was a dizzying stillness that in places covered them in a suffocating mist. But every now and then Oscar would squeeze their hands and his voice would pull them back from the emptiness of their thoughts.
They were no longer walking in the Fellows’ Garden – it had fallen away to reveal a tree-lined path that formed an avenue through the strange grey twilight. Every now and then it seemed to Sam that the trees and avenue would jump and flicker. Whether the place was Addison’s Walk, he could not tell. A river meandered beside them, but he couldn’t see where the waters started, or where they were going.
Then Oscar came to a stop and in the twilight they could see a circle of stone statues.
‘I’ve seen this place before.’
This time it was Oscar’s turn to look surprised. ‘It is the Circle of Druidae, Sam, though only a reflection of it.’
‘The circle – like the emblem of Cherwell College,’ said Sam.
‘And the symbol on the reading-room door,’ finished Emily. ‘And on the key to it.’ At last she’d remembered where she’d seen it.
‘But what has this got to do with me?’ Sam’s voice cracked – perhaps he already knew the answer.
‘You must know by now, Sam,’ Oscar said quietly. ‘The Shadow is trying to extinguish the bloodline of the Druidae. It is not just the last few days that have been preparing you for this journey, but a lifetime. But I think you already know this.’
In the strange shifting twilight, Sam and Emily’s eyes met. They were both coming to their own conclusions.
‘I did not think I would face the Shadow again,’ Oscar continued. ‘This time I will be ready. It is only a Shadow in this world and it can only hurt the living. I will be its equal.’
Just then they heard the deep thrum as if something huge was breaking the surface of the sea and drawing its first breath.
‘The Shadow is searching for you,’ Oscar said. ‘When it arrives, I will trap it here.’
With the landscape shifting around him, he looked out into the darkness.
‘Let it come – we are ready.’
Sam wasn’t sure who he was talking to, then he realised Culluhin’s brooding presence was back. Or was he? Was the shadowy figure there or were his eyes playing tricks? Where was Eagan? But more importantly, what was going to happen?
‘Is it wise to let the Shadow in?’ he whispered.
‘Let me be free to deliver the message that starts the wheel turning,’ Oscar said calmly. ‘It is time we fought back against the darkness. It begins.’
Sam could feel panic rising. He was about to face it all over again, and even with Oscar beside him, he didn’t know whether it would be enough.
He suddenly felt Emily’s hand in his. When he looked at her, she was white with fear. ‘I don’t like this,’ she managed to say through gritted teeth.
Oscar was calling in an unknown language and Sam heard other voices rising in the mist, too, the voices of the Druids coming together in a powerful resonance.
The landscape was changing again and he wheeled round to see what he thought were the gates of Magdalen rising behind him. In front of him was a bridge, and beyond it a movement, a darkness, a horror that could be felt but not seen. Yet again Sam could feel it reaching out to strip him of his senses. It was moving, rising up before him, black and shapeless.
Tears slipped down his cheeks and he was unable to stop himself from sinking first to one knee and then a second, but a hand stopped him from sinking further. When he looked up, he found Emily’s tear-stained face pleading with him not to fall.
Oscar was already on the bridge when a giant wave of black fire came convulsing towards him, bursting down to crush the life out of him. But Oscar’s voice rose high above the chaos and his hands appeared to catch the wave in mid-air. It shattered into a million twisting sparks, and a terrifying wail burst out of him as they tore through his flesh.
Sam tried to call out to him, but his throat was blocked, as if with broken glass. And out on the e
dge of his awareness, formless and soundless, something was moving again. He could feel its malignancy, he could feel its anger rising like a black tide against Oscar.
The black burning mist came again, a hissing fire that was meant to kill. Oscar’s arms were charred and his face blackened, but he was facing it once again.
When the attack came, it was ferocious. Sam and Emily were nearly knocked off their feet. They held on to each other, as the wind howled round them. But Oscar would not be moved. His voice rose again, his charred, withered hands shielded him from the onslaught, and this time he threw it back, stepping into the black burning wind, his screams tortured and terrifying.
Sam watched helplessly as the black swirling tempest rose above Oscar once more. His clothes were whipping around him, his face contorted with pain. Then above the storm he heard Oscar’s voice, strong and commanding and full of anger. He was challenging the Shadow to show itself fully, mocking it with a courage that Sam knew he would never see again. Light was pouring from every inch of him, driving back the dark hissing wind and the burning air.
Then the tempest caught him and threw him down in the middle of the bridge. It rushed forward and Sam knew it was coming for him.
In that second, he heard Emily screaming his name. He held out a hand as the black fire erupted all around them. But he could hear the Magdalen choir resonating through his being. He could see the light in his mind. He could see it streaming from his left hand. He threw down the black fire and it was gone.
He stood there, dazed. Then he raised his eyes to the bridge.
Oscar’s shredded form, head bent, hands raised skyward, was standing there, directly in front of a vast monstrosity that was contorting itself into a towering Shadow.
‘Sam!’ came a rasping voice. It was Culluhin. ‘Our trap is sprung. Run. Don’t look back.’
With that, he turned away and joined Oscar.
A second later their sacrifice became apparent as with outstretched arms they became flaming brands holding the Shadow in a fiery embrace.
The tempest split apart, hitting Sam with the force of an explosion. For a moment he could neither hear nor see.
When the light faded from his eyes, Oscar and Culluhin were gone. He was looking down a long field of trees, and even in the darkness he could see they were heavy with fruit.
* * * * * *
‘Did you see Oscar?’
When Sam closed his eyes, he could still see Oscar silhouetted against the roiling night. He sat in the orchard, stunned, bewildered and unable to speak. He was beginning to shake. His body was on fire and it was all he could to hold back a wave of sickness.
‘Was Oscar in the garden?’
When the second question came, he realised the voice asking it wasn’t Emily’s. He sat up and turned to find Eagan leaning over her, trying to wake her.
‘You’re alive! I thought you were dead.’
‘I hope not, for my sake,’ said Eagan with a smile, stroking Emily’s hair.
Sam felt that he was waking from a nightmare.
‘There was a creature that brought you to the garden,’ he explained. ‘At first I thought it was your father, but then it turned into something else.’
‘It was a Grim-were from the Underland.’ Eagan was now stroking Emily’s face. ‘I want to know why the garden revealed itself to you, Sam. Don’t get me wrong – it’s probably what saved your life. You can tell me how you survived the Grim-were, too, but for now we need to get out of the wood. Come on, Emily.’
Suddenly she sat bolt upright. ‘Eagan! I thought you were dead!’
She grabbed hold of him, taking everyone by surprise.
‘Oscar’s bodyguard took you into the pond and there was light and water and you were gone!’ She was almost sobbing.
‘I’m okay.’ Eagan hugged her back, laughing. ‘It’s all right – you don’t need to prove you care.’
‘And then Sam saved Oscar!’
‘I could be wrong,’ Sam said thoughtfully, ‘but I think Oscar lured the Shadow to the orchard. I think it’s been an elaborate trap.’
‘That wasn’t the orchard,’ Emily corrected him. ‘This is the orchard. That place was right out of a nightmare. However did you stand up to the Shadow in Oxford? Look what it did to poor Oscar. I can’t bear to think about his arms!’
She lowered her head onto Eagan’s shoulder.
Sam was already thinking ahead. ‘You’re right, Eagan, I don’t think we can stay here. Whatever the Forest Reivers were fighting sounded almost as bad as the Shadow. I suggest we make for Alnmouth and try and get a message to Professor Stuckley.’
He walked back up the short slope and found the wall. From it, he looked back over the orchard. What had Culluhin said? ‘Our trap is sprung.’ Had that been their plan all along? Had Brennus, Drust, Jarl, Eagan and Oscar been working together to bring the Shadow to the orchard?
There was no easy way of knowing, but it now seemed clear that Oscar had brought the Shadow to Oxford. And yet wasn’t it he himself who had brought the Shadow to an unsuspecting Oscar?
What about Oscar’s message about the broken Circle of Druidae? Would making it whole again keep the Ruin back?
And what of the creature that had portrayed itself as Professor Whitehart and Jarl? Why was it seeking Emily? What part did she have to play in this?
‘It’s time to go.’ Eagan’s words cut across his jumbled thoughts. He had helped Emily to her feet and they were waiting for him.
* * * * * *
They set off as the first light of dawn began to throw a red haze across the eastern sky.
Sam could still see Oscar’s fiery silhouette in his mind. He wondered whether he had made it back to the beginning and delivered his message to the innocent boy he’d been only seven days ago.
He looked across at Eagan. His carefree attitude had gone and in its place was a look of grim resolve. Beside him, Emily was stumbling with weariness. Looking at her haunted face, Sam was nearly overcome with guilt.
And yet at that moment a single burning thought pierced the mist that had been hiding the truth from him. He now understood why the Shadow had let him live. He had, unknowingly, led it to the last Druid.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading my book. I really hope that you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you can help spread the word about it, you will be helping me to make a difference in the world through the G L Hall Foundation, which works with charities to improve the lives of children and young adults. Thank you.
The idea for the foundation was planted when I read David Hamilton’s book The Five Side-Effects of Kindness. I have come to realise just how powerful acts of kindness can be. I grew up on the Holme Wood estate in Bradford in the 1970s and also have seen how detrimental poverty and deprivation can be.
When I was seven, my primary school teacher, Mrs Flather, gave me a copy of C.S. Lewis’s Prince Caspian and that started a love affair with literature that has lasted to this day. I hope The Last Druid will do something similar for you. It is my attempt to bring together my love of books, my love of business and my desire to give something back. I hope it will make a big difference to a number of charities doing exceptional things for children and young adults.
All royalties from The Last Druid will go to G L Hall Foundation. We are already working with several charities and looking to partner others in the future.
I would love to connect with you and share more about The Last Druid books at:
www.thelastdruid.co.uk
https://www.facebook.com/glenlhallauthor/
https://www.twitter.com/glen_l_hall
With kindest wishes,
Glen
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
My love affair with books started with my primary school teacher, who gave me a copy of Prince Caspian when I was seven, leadin
g thirty years later to the publication of The Last Druid and a continued love affair of fantasy. From the moment I was captivated by C.S. Lewis’s chronicles of Narnia, I devoured the whole seven books and could have cried when I came to ‘The Last Battle’ and realised it was the final book. You can imagine my joy when by pure chance I came across an old copy of ‘The Hobbit’ in my middle school’s rickety school library. That one act of kindness from my primary school teacher led me to read English at the University of Leeds.
I have come to realise just how powerful acts of kindness can be and what affect they can have on an individual. I wanted therefore to combine my passion for business with my passion for all things literary. The Last Druid is a five year project that attempts to give something of me back to all those children who are at risk of never having a family or the fortune of a loving childhood that every child deserves.
All royalties from The Last Druid will go to G L Hall foundation.