‘How does this work?’ whispered Niamh to her mother.
‘It’s an old trick,’ Grace whispered back in reply. ‘For many years my elfish ancestors walked the woods in this world without wanting to be seen. The last thing they needed was meddlesome humans wandering up and interfering with their magic. It would have been too tiresome. So we developed the trick of weaving these domes of invisibility around us. They muffle sound and hide all within. You remember my bedtime tales for you of the elves in the forests being seen in a clearing with music and fires and then suddenly disappearing at the sound of humans?’
Niamh did remember these. They were her favourite bedtime tales – the elves, the faeries, leprechauns, sprites – Niamh knew them all from her book about magic folk. It was her most cherished and well-thumbed book in her bookcase. It had a velvety green cover, a brown spine, and beautiful gold lettering which – despite the attention of Grady trying to rub it off – never seemed to lose its lustre. It was called The Encyclopaedia of Magical Marvels and People by Fingal MacLir, and seemed to radiate magic itself.
‘So they weren’t just tales?’ said Niamh.
‘No darling, they weren’t. Why do you think your dad was always telling you they were true?’
‘I just thought he was being mad like he always is.’
‘Well, sweetie, they were true. But one elf could not do what Embarr is doing tonight. The amount of magic he is using is greater than anything an elf could manage alone. It’s an enormous dome of protection.’
Niamh nodded sleepily as she marvelled at the oily glow on the inside of their shelter. Grace could see Niamh was starting to fade. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Tired,’ said Niamh. Her eyelids were becoming heavier than she could recall but she fought to stay awake. She forced herself to sit more upright as she realised Grady had fallen asleep behind her, his head now resting on her back. They continued without further conversation as the gentle swaying walk of Embarr moved them closer to home and safety. Niamh felt her eyelids wanting to close. The feeling of magic coursing through her was something she didn’t understand but she knew how much this was draining her. She had so many questions but they would all have to wait.
The rolling gait eventually lulled Niamh into a gentle dozing sleep as she too closed her eyes and sagged forward onto the mane of Embarr. Grace put her hands up to stop Niamh from falling but Merritt waved her away. ‘Remember?’ he said. ‘If the unicorn wants you to stay on his back then there’s no way you can fall. The children will be safe enough up there. Saddles and reins couldn’t hold them on any better. Let’s just get them home.’
Another ten minutes of walking brought them around the side of the quirky collection of rambling rooms and stable sheds which was their home. They had lived in Avalon’s End for as long as Niamh and Grady had memories. The home was one of the oldest in the countryside and everyone in Harbourside Village spoke of it as an “oddity”. Anyone who had ever lived in that house had always been known as “a bit elvish” by the local villagers and the farm was known for the odd standing stones which marked the boundaries. The people who lived there had unnaturally long lives and while the parish registers showed the property changing hands – regularly every one hundred years – there had never been a for sale sign seen. The old owners would be there one day and gone the next.
Merritt and Grace had been accepted better than most. The children went to the local school and Merritt helped out with the cricket and football teams (he had an uncanny sense of hand-eye coordination). Grace was known as the Gardening Goddess around the town, being able to make anything grow anywhere, even (and this only added to the elvish stories) tropical plants which shouldn’t flourish in a place which sometimes had more than three feet of snow in winter. ‘Oh well,’ the villagers would say (especially Dorothy Bottomley, the local self-appointed organiser of everyone and everything), ‘Don’t worry me as long as those roses she looks after at the churchyard keep on winning best in show at the Town and Country competitions.’
Eventually they found themselves clearing the lake edge and making their way back up through the trees which led to the side of the house. Before leaving the shadowy safety of the forest canopy they took one last look at the stretch of ground between the trees and the house. ‘Looks clear,’ said Merritt.
A sudden burst of noise to their left made them jump in fright and prepare for the worst, but they all quickly relaxed when they realised it was only Beedlelow, Phillibeet and the dogs. The squirrel jumped off Cu’s back and ran up to Merritt’s feet. It squiggled and scratched his nose, let out a small squeak, and scampered off again towards the house.
Grace let out a sigh. ‘I think we’re fine,’ she sighed.
Merritt nodded and they all walked out into the cold night air towards the house. The dew was starting to settle over everything by now. It was going to be a cold night and frost was likely to sheathe the ground in the morning.
They made their way silently up to the side door of the house which was protected from view by a large old oak. As they reached the door they heard the swish of the phoenix’s wings as it spiralled out of the sky and into the stables just behind the house. They knew he would be staying the night as protection from anyone, or anything, which might try to find them again.
Embarr moved as close as he could to the house and let Merritt and Grace slide the children off his back. There was no doubt in Merritt’s mind the unicorn was still drawing magic through the children. The tingle from their skin was a dead giveaway. Grace gently turned the door handle trying not to make noise, forgetting the magic was still keeping all sound from the rest of the world. The children remained asleep on their parents’ shoulders as they entered the house.
Once they were inside, Embarr turned back to the stables and trotted off to see if there was any food in there. Magical he may be but even a mythical creature needs to eat every now and then! After reaching the cover of the stables he let go of the weaves of magic from the children. Merritt and Grace both felt the release of the power at the same time. A great sadness swept over them as the power slipped away. A tear rolled down Grace’s face at the feeling of loss while she tried to get Niamh under her covers in her bedroom at the top of the stairs. Merritt did the same with Grady. Neither parent stopped to get them into night clothes but simply removed their slightly soggy tops and pants, wrapped them in warm woollen blankets from the hot water cupboard, and placed them under their duvets.
As they closed the door behind them both parents turned to each other in the hallway and embraced. Grace let go of all the emotions of the night and sobbed great wracking sobs into Merritt’s shoulder. ‘Don’t cry,’ he said. ‘We can deal with this. We knew it would come some day.’
Grace lifted her head and wiped away a tear. ‘I know. But why now? Why here?’
Merritt hugged Grace to him more tightly and said, almost to himself, ‘I don’t know. But we’ll find out soon enough. Let’s get to bed. Answers will be easier to find after some sleep.’
They turned and headed off in opposite directions, Grace to the bathroom to wipe away the tears and grime, and Merritt to the fireplace downstairs. As he poked and prodded the embers, building it up for the night, the flames suddenly reared, sitting Merritt back on his haunches as the face of the phoenix appeared floating above the tongues of red flame.
‘Sorry my friend, didn’t mean to scare you.’
‘Well you’ve managed to do enough of that tonight already, so what’s one more shock before bedtime,’ said Merritt testily.
‘I know,’ said the bodiless head in the flames. ‘We’ll talk tomorrow. I just needed to let you know you will all be safe tonight. I won’t be going anywhere and we have set wards around the house to let us know if anything untoward tries to get near you. We also have some other sentries to keep an eye on you. Don’t worry; we’ve pulled out all the stops to look after you tonight.’
Merritt didn’t look any less worried by the words of the phoenix. ‘Oka
y. Thank you ... I think. We definitely will talk tomorrow. We’ve a lot to talk about.’
‘Goodnight then,’ said Bel. The flames roared slightly, sending embers up the chimney and onto the hearth. Merritt picked up a couple of logs and threw them onto the fire causing more sparks to leap around. He contemplated the glow of the flames for a moment or two and then turned for the stairs. The dogs trotted over to their fireside bed, turned around once, twice, three times, and then settled down.
Outside the darkness became more complete. The dew settled more thickly and the world turned towards sleep on a cold autumn night.
Chapter 3
A Disappearing Act
The sun rose the next morning over a land turned by frost into a midwinter scene of white, green and brown. As the light began to filter into the house the sentries around the boundaries of Avalon’s End began to relax.
As the dangers of the previous night began to dissipate, so too did the sentinels. First, the tiny firelights of the forest faeries dimmed and then winked out as they headed back to their forest homes. All night they had been darting around the house in wide patrolling circles looking for the magical disturbances which warned of approaching danger.
They were followed by a flight of falcons – sharp-eyed and dangerously intelligent, they waited until a barely visible flame passed by them like a rustling breeze, releasing them from their vigil. Bel’s words of thanks whispered to them as they rose into the morning air and turned away to the craggy rocks they normally inhabited.
Finally, a pack of dogs rose from their hiding places in the long grass, behind the stables, and under the fruit trees close to the house. The beasts were each taller at the head than the children and as they moved their muscles rippled with bunched energy. The silky grey and brown coats that covered their bodies shimmered and rippled as the dogs trotted towards the forest. Their shaggy muzzles held long sharp teeth behind lolling tounges. They flowed together from their scattered places forming a pack eleven strong before stopping and glancing back at the house. As they stood there, another, even bigger dog, padded out from the forest. Ancient-looking eyes scanned the fields and grounds. It stood for a moment staring at the house before lifting his head to give a short but deep howl which echoed around the fields in the stillness of the early morning. As the sound died it turned and, with the rest of the pack, it padded back to the forest. There was no one to see the dogs as they went, nor notice that they had faded away to invisibility even before the cover of the forest enveloped them. Bel breathed easier as the hounds went. There was little that would get past them, and they were fearless when fighting evil, but Sidhe Hounds like those had minds of their own and answered to their own call. Bel knew he was lucky to have them grant the favour of protection for the night just passed.
The final web of protection was the web of magical wards spun around the house by Bel and Embarr. Bel left these barriers in place despite the rising of the sun. Sometimes you can never have enough protection, he thought as he flew over the fields and back to the house. He knew the wards wouldn’t stop a determined dark wizard but they would slow him down enough to allow escape if needed.
Escape, though, was the last thing going through the children’s minds. They were both still lost in the fug of sleep, drowsing and dreaming of magical birds and unicorns. The sunlight began to warm the curtains of their rooms. It stole through the cracks in the curtains casting dragon eye slits of brightness on the bedroom floors.
Merritt and Grace were already up. Sleep had not come easily the previous night. An unsettled fitful night of dozing had left them feeling tired, washed out, and still trying to make sense of the way forward. As they sat drinking warm sweet tea an echoing howl made them stiffen, but they both knew the sound of the Sidhe Hound and smiled as the sound echoed away.
Grace went up to Niamh’s room and sat by her bedside as the sunlight and look of serenity on her daughter’s face drove some of the previous night’s shadows from her mind. She knew what the children would be asked to do. The attack on them left no doubt that this world was no longer the safe haven it had been for many years.
The normality of Niamh’s room felt like a mean lie to Grace now. The wall was covered with an odd assortment of posters, paintings and other special memories for Niamh. There was her first entry in the local art competition, pictures of her with Mum, Dad and Grady at the base of a huge waterfall in the mountains just a couple of hours’ drive from where they lived by the coast. And plastered all over her wardrobe doors were the faerie posters Niamh had always loved.
Along one side of the room ran Niamh’s bookcase with her well-loved library of books. From the moment she could read for herself she always had her head buried in a book, whether it was at breakfast, lunch, dinner, or even sitting on the toilet! On the other side of the room beneath large sash windows were her mirror and chest of drawers. A small vase of wilted late autumn wildflowers sat atop her bedside table marking the change of seasons.
Thoughts of how the events of last night would steal all this away filtered in and out of Grace’s thoughts. The growing light creeping into the room moved slowly onto Niamh’s hair, highlighting the strands of colour which wove their way through her long silky mane. Grace moved a lock of hair which had fallen across Niamh’s eyes as she rolled over. As the light played across Niamh’s face she began to stir.
Slowly and sleepily opening her eyes she looked up at her mother, smiling and stretching. ‘Mum,’ she said in a croaky morning voice. ‘I had the most amazing dream.’
‘Tell me about it, sweetheart,’ said Grace, with a smile on her face.
‘I dreamt we met a phoenix, and a unicorn, and some squirrels who could talk and …’ Realisation dawned on her face. ‘And it wasn’t a dream, was it Mum?’
Grace looked back at her with soft warmth in her eyes. ‘No sweetie. I’m afraid to say it wasn’t.’
Niamh sat bolt upright as the events of the previous night flooded back to her. ‘So the phoenix, Bel?’ said Niamh.
‘He is out in the forest somewhere at the moment, making sure there is no one we need to be worried about. And before you ask, Embarr is out the back in the shed having a munch through the bales of pea straw which he seems to think is a delicacy.’
‘And ... you really are a witch?’ Niamh asked, knowing the answer but barely believing the truth of it.
‘I am,’ said Grace with a slight exhalation of breath, as though admitting it was the release of a secret locked away which had finally seen the light of day.
‘Can you still do ... you know … any real magic, Mum? Can you show me something?’ asked Niamh, now fully awake.
‘I only do basic magic here Niamh, small stuff really. Do you remember what we said last night?’
Niamh thought for a moment. ‘You can’t use the magic of this world, can you?’
‘Nope,’ said her Mum sadly. ‘Not really. To come here and have you and Grady meant leaving most of our abilities behind.’ A smile grew on her face for a moment. ‘But I still have a few little tricks, petty stuff by the standards of what your dad and I used to do but enough for this place, and this time.’ At this she turned towards the small vase of wilting flowers and lifted her hand towards them as if gently caressing them upwards.The flowers in the vase trembled ever so slightly before slowly stiffening to stand upright and refreshed. Radiant colour bloomed across their previously dull petals as they came back to life.
Niamh gasped and let out a squeal of delight as the transformation took place in front of her. But more than this, she could feel something tingling through her as it all unfolded. In seconds the vase of previously gloomy flowers had changed to look as fresh as if they were still sitting in the meadows by the river from where they had been picked.
‘Mum! I felt that! I did! How?’ Niamh blurted out in a rush. The feeling of magic in her fingertips was like nothing she had ever felt before.
‘After what you went through last night Niamh, it’s likely you’ll be able to feel
magic more and more now. What Embarr did by channelling magic through you and Grady is – as far as I know – not something that has ever been done with anyone as young as you two. The invisibility charm and the way it was put together is strong magic. I’m guessing you will have some challenges to face soon whether you want to or not. You are going to have to learn how to use your magic safely.’
Across the corridor Grady woke up with the squeals of delight that Niamh had uttered watching the transformation of the flowers. Sitting up he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and then suddenly remembered the events of last night. He leapt out of bed and ran downstairs shouting, ‘Mum! Dad! Where are you?’
Merritt ran out of the kitchen where he had been starting breakfast for the children. ‘What’s wrong? What’s happening?’ he exclaimed.
‘Dad! I did real magic last night! Really!! How cool is that!!’ Grady shouted as he ran up to his dad – jumping up into his arms.
‘Yes matey, you did,’ said Merritt with a relieved chuckle. ‘Come on; let’s get some breakfast into you.’
Grady could barely contain himself around the breakfast table as he kept up a monologue about the unicorn, Bel, the magic, the dome, the lightning, and everything else he could think of. Niamh and Grace had joined them at the big oak table in the kitchen where the warmth from the range drove away the chills of the frost outside.
‘So what happens next?’ said Niamh, after getting a couple of poached eggs and toast soldiers into her.
‘Not sure yet, sweetie,’ said Merritt. ‘We need to talk to Bel again and work out what happens next. He shouldn’t be far away.’
It was not long before the phoenix returned to the house. The glow of the early morning light had been replaced by the warmth of mid-morning before the sound of his cry over the treetops could be heard. Moments later he came swooping back to the house, skimming so closely over the tips of the trees that the leaves rustled and shimmered as he passed. His deep black coat of the previous night was now replaced by an almost transparent, ghostlike plumage. The effect was such that unless you were looking for him, you would have a hard time seeing him. He landed outside the back door of the house and, just as he did when entering the cave the previous night, seemed to shrink in size to make his way through the door into the kitchen. As he stepped through the doorway the translucent effect disappeared and he reverted to his shimmering gold and orange coat.
Azrael's Twins Page 4