by Shannah Jay
When they were a few paces away from the Touchpoint, however, the second demon landed nearby.
Kerril groaned aloud. He didn’t have the strength to slow down two of them. He pulled out his small dagger with his left hand, but didn’t feel at all confident of being able to fight off a demon with that.
Beside him, Shayla bent and picked up a piece of rock, hefting it in her hand, determined to fight alongside her brothers, to the death if need be.
Then they all heard a faint voice inside their heads saying, ‘Drop to the ground!’ Recognising the sword’s bell-like tone, they did as ordered.
So quickly did this happen that the swords of the demons met in the air above their heads. Sickly green light flashed and choking sulphurous smoke billowed out. Deep voices thundered their rage and even the sound of that was like a blow striking the ears.
The three crawled quickly round the tree-trunk legs of the demons, their goal close now.
Two paces to go.
Both demons raised their swords again.
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One pace to go.
The swords began to descend.
The three youngsters rolled on to the Touchpoint.
They didn’t even need to call out to Hallie. She must have sensed their need, because the world blurred around them as they fell instantly downwards through the portal.
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17 THE TRUE VALE
When the three young people regained consciousness, they found themselves in the True Vale again.
Birds were singing, insects buzzing—in fact, it was so normal and peaceful, they could only stare around in relief, then help each other to stand up.
A sound made Ronan turn quickly, hand on sword hilt, then sag back again with relief. ‘Hallie!’
‘We felt you needed a short rest.’ The great furry creature looked down at them solemnly. ‘We cannot help you regain the sword blade, but we can give you the gift of sleep. When you leave here, no time will have passed in your worlds, but you’ll feel refreshed, at least.’ She waved one hand to the left and they saw on the grass a white cloth loaded with food.
‘Wonderful! I’m starving!’ Kerril made straight for the loaded plates. Ronan wasn’t very far behind him and even Shayla, not usually a big eater, found she was ravenously hungry.
After they’d eaten their fill, Ronan turned back to Hallie, who was waiting patiently, a half-smile on her face. ‘You say no time will have passed when we return?’
She nodded, her eyes filled with compassion for the lad who had so heavy a burden to carry.
He let out a huge sighing breath and sank to the ground. ‘Then I can sleep some more. Thank you.’
The other two finished eating and joined him, lying sprawled on grass which seemed as soft as velvet.
Hallie watched until they were all breathing deeply and regularly, then spoke to someone not visible.
‘They’re doing well. There is hope now, at least.’
A chorus of voices murmured agreement, then peace settled on the True Vale again.
***
When Ronan awoke, the sun was still shining and nothing appeared to have changed in the valley. He stretched, feeling well rested, then stood up and walked across to the platters of food, which had been refilled while he was asleep. Behind him, Shayla and Kerril stirred in their sleep, but didn’t wake.
Ronan attended to his needs, eating more moderately this time, then stripping off his clothes and going for a leisurely swim in a nearby pool which was fed by a small waterfall that tumbled and gurgled over THE MAGIC SWORD Shannah Jay 95
worn rocks. He felt total trust in Hallie and whoever else lived in the True Vale. If they said no time would have passed, then he could afford to relax, something he needed badly.
When he went to get dressed again, his clothes were clean and fresh, and the magic sword hilt seemed even brighter than before. He didn’t buckle on the sword belt, but sat down to examine the hilt, stroking it and admiring the way the gold was set with small stones that formed the colours of the rainbow.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he said aloud.
From somewhere far away a chime sounded in answer and he felt as though someone had touched him lightly on the shoulder. He spun round but no one was there. ‘Was that the blade speaking?’ he wondered aloud. The hilt seemed to warm slightly under his fingers and the delicate jewels glowed for a moment. ‘I shall bring the blade back to you,’ he promised it, ‘or die trying.’
Then Kerril appeared, followed by Shayla, both of them looking as rested as Ronan felt to be himself.
‘Can we go for a swim?’ they asked, seeing his damp hair. ‘Have we really got time?’
‘We have all the time we need,’ Ronan assured them.
With a yip of delight Kerril plunged into the water fully dressed.
Shayla burst out laughing.
‘Put your clothes on the side of the pool and you’ll find them clean when you come out!’ Ronan called, and stood smiling as Kerril twisted and turned to take off his clothes under the water.
Shayla went behind a bush and then slid into the water from there, staying on the far side of the pool, feeling shy of the two boys but longing to feel clean.
Blushing deeply and not looking at her, Kerril got out of the water to find his clothes dry and clean once more.
When the three young people were dressed again, Kerril sighed and said, ‘I don’t want to leave.’
‘Nor do I,’ said Shayla. ‘But we can’t think only of ourselves. Reuniting the sword is our solemn duty.
We have to go to your world next, Kerril.’
He shivered. ‘Yes. But Lord Bezroll will be a much harder opponent to overcome than the other two.
He’s not only strong in body, but somehow, if he wants something done, it gets done, whatever the cost.
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He wouldn’t hesitate to kill any of us and he’s a much better swordsman than Beffris was. So we’re going to have to be even more careful when we cross into my world.’
Ronan chewed one fingertip thoughtfully. ‘Have you any idea where the sword might be?’
Kerril nodded. ‘Yes. Well, I can guess, anyway. Just before I left, I saw a man-at-arms dismissed for touching Lord Bezroll’s father’s sword. It hangs on the wall in his chamber and I think the scabbard must contain the magic blade, because I’ve never seen anyone pull that sword out of it to clean it, not even the lord. Though how we’re going to get near it, I don’t know. Bezroll is bound to be waiting for us. And he whom we dare not name will have set traps for us, I’m sure.’
‘Then we must find some way to get back to your castle unnoticed.’
They looked at one another, then shook their heads in bafflement. ‘I can’t think how,’ Kerril said.
‘Unless we use magic—and I don’t know any magic strong enough to—’
Ronan’s sword hilt suddenly made a faint humming noise and began to glow slightly.
They all stared at it.
‘Can I—touch it?’ Kerril asked suddenly. ‘I feel as if—as if it wants me to touch it now.’ When Ronan nodded, Kerril stretched out one hand hesitantly, then pulled it back and said in a voice more solemn than usual, ‘We should link with one another as I do this, I think.’
So they moved to touch one another’s hands, as they had before. The action was becoming familiar to them now and they were beginning to enjoy the sense of togetherness they felt when linked.
Three in one.
As Kerril laid his free hand on the sword hilt, everything around them seemed to go suddenly quiet.
Not until he let go of the hilt did the everyday noises return.
His face more thoughtful now, he touched the hilt again and the same thing happened. ‘Why does it do that?’ he wondered.
‘Perhaps it’s something to do with your magic gifts,’ Shayla said. ‘They’re very different from mine, I think.’
‘I do
n’t have strong enough gifts to do something like that,’ he muttered, beginning to guess what was happening. ‘And I’m not trained. Anything I manage to do is by sheer chance.’
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‘I think you’re wrong. I think something is happening through you when you touch the sword hilt. And look!’ She pointed across the pool, seeing what neither of her brothers had noticed yet.
The water seemed to be falling very slowly, each trickle and droplet taking an age to cascade over the edge of the rock and splash into the pool.
They watched in total silence, trying to work out exactly what was happening and what it meant for them.
‘If everything is happening so much more slowly around us,’ Kerril said at last, ‘does that mean we would seem to them to be moving very quickly? Hallie? Are you there?’
But there was no answer and no sign of Hallie.
‘I think we have to work it out for ourselves,’ Shayla decided. ‘And I’m sure we must seem to other people to be moving far more quickly than usual if everything around us slows down that much.’
‘We can use this, you know,’ Ronan said suddenly, excitement fizzing through him. ‘If it works in the other worlds, if we can move more quickly than everything around us, maybe that’s the answer to defeating Lord Bezroll!’
They all thought about the idea.
‘I can’t promise to be able to do it on my world. The magic may only work this well here in the True Val,’ Kerril said.
‘Maybe this is something we’ll have to trust you about,’ Shayla said in her usual quiet way. A lot of our adventures seem to have depended on us trusting one another, don’t you think?’
They nodded. She had a gift for understanding things. As Hallie had said when they first met—Shayla had wisdom beyond her years.
Very reluctantly Kerril let go of the hilt and things around them speeded up again.
Hallie appeared before they had time to discuss anything else. ‘Time to go.’
‘Can just you tell us—’ Kerril began.
‘I can tell you nothing more. This is something you have to do yourselves.’ She spoke more curtly than usual. ‘Hurry up, please.’
***
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As they tumbled out of the darkness to land on the Touchpoint, a voice yelled, ‘There they are!’
Kerril yelped in dismay as he saw Lord Bezroll standing by the side of the big rock, hand on sword hilt. For a moment fear of his old master froze him.
‘Kill them!’ Bezroll ordered, drawing his sword and stepping forward.
‘The hilt!’ Shayla screamed, grabbing Ronan.
Kerril, who had been staring at his lord like a bird caught in a trap, jerked and grabbed hold of Shayla, then touched the sword hilt with his free hand.
The world around them slowed down a little and the blow from Lord Bezroll’s sword seemed to float downwards towards them. They edged backwards out of reach and saw the expression of surprise on his face as the blade missed them and hit the ground.
‘I can’t do it properly!’ Kerril wailed. ‘It’s not slowing things down as much here.’
‘You can do it!’ Ronan said firmly. ‘You have the strongest gift for magic of the three of us. Besides, you’re not doing it alone.’
The smaller lad blinked at him, then nodded and concentrated. The world around them slowed down still more and Lord Bezroll’s sword arm seemed suspended in the air as he prepared for another blow. The anger on his face made Kerril shiver, but he forced himself to concentrate only on the sword and the beautiful magic he and it could weave together. For magic was beautiful, he now knew. It was a wonderful gift when used properly, for good, not for evil.
‘Let’s move towards the castle as quickly as we can,’ Shayla urged. ‘You’re doing really well, Kerril, but this magic only slows other things down, it doesn’t stop them, so we must hurry.’
They set off, leaving the group of men with staring at the black rock, then only slowly beginning to turn their heads. The three young people walked close together, still touching, with Kerril’s free hand caressing the sword hilt.
They passed other guards gaping in surprise, men whose heads didn’t turn to follow them until long after they’d moved on.
‘It’s working,’ Kerril breathed in a voice tight with excitement. ‘It really is.’
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Feeling more confident by the minute, he led the way into the castle. When they came to Lord Bezroll’s chamber they found two men on guard, but Ronan pushed them aside and watched them fall slowly, slowly, while Shayla opened the door. They were acting as if they had planned this in detail beforehand, working together quite instinctively again.
‘Three in one,’ she said in quiet satisfaction. ‘That’s how we were always meant to be.’
Kerril felt joy fill him and overflow. Never to be alone again. Never to be scorned and ill-treated. He would rather, he decided, far rather die than return to what he had been.
But he didn’t intend to die. Nor did he intend to let Lord Bezroll hurt any of them.
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18 LORD BEZROLL’S KEEP
Inside Bezroll’s chamber, the royal youngsters found the ancient sword hanging on the wall—but there was a black mist hovering in front of it, through which it showed only faintly.
‘You have not yet dealt with me!’ boomed a voice from the darkness. ‘Your little tricks won’t work against my magic.’
Kerril gasped in shock. ‘It’s him!’
‘Don’t say the name!’ Shayla warned quickly.
‘He can’t be here in person,’ Ronan said, staring round. ‘There hasn’t been time for him to get here.’
‘I don’t need to be there in person,’ the wizard said scornfully. The mist began to swell and grow, rolling round the room like dirty smoke.
As the sword disappeared completely from view, Kerril shouted, ‘No!’ both angry and terrified to think that his new-found happiness might be snatched from him. ‘No, you shan’t!’ He let go of the sword hilt and stretched out both his arms instinctively in the pose magicians always use to focus their will.
Ronan heard footsteps start moving outside at normal speed and dashed back to lock the door, just before the men outside arrived and started banging on it.
‘Come and stand behind Kerril,’ Shayla said in a low voice. ‘He’ll need us to touch him.’ How she knew that she couldn’t tell, but she was quite sure of it. ‘And you could ask the sword hilt to keep slowing things down, if it can.’
Ronan did so and the thumps on the door suddenly began to follow one another at longer intervals. But the hilt didn’t slow things down as much as it had when working with Kerril, and their brother no longer seemed aware of that need, because he was now dealing with the wizard.
Shayla and Ronan each laid a hand on one of his shoulders and felt a shudder run through him, then saw him throw his head back defiantly and face the blackness with renewed determination.
His voice sounded suddenly deeper and more certain. ‘You shan’t keep us from the sword blade, wizard! It’s ours by birthright.’
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To the others’ astonishment the darkness concealing the sword began to shrink and turn lighter, so that it soon seemed more like grey mist.
There was a roar of rage from somewhere far away, but for once Kerril was not to be terrified into doing someone else’s will. This was the most important thing he had ever done in his whole life and he didn’t intend to fail. He concentrated every fibre of his being on defeating Pavros, for if he lost this battle not only would he die, but so would his brother and sister.
It made such a difference not to be alone. Not only did he have Ronan and Shayla working with him, but also the sword. Surely, surely that would be enough? He clung to that hope and let his instincts guide him.
Beyond the ragged shreds of grey mist the blade began to hum and the mist
grew still lighter in colour and thinner in texture. Then they saw a glow appear behind it, warm yellow light breaking into the gloom of Bezroll’s stark chamber.
‘The blade’s helping us now,’ Ronan murmured, his voice filled with awe. At his hip, there was an answering glow from the scabbard, a stream of light which became brighter and brighter. Trails of sparks began flying around the room.
A distant roar of fury made the light fade slightly and Kerril took another hasty step forward, pulling his brother and sister with him. The mental struggle against the wizard had him covered in sweat and he was now so pale the others were terrified he was going to collapse under the strain.
‘No!’ Shayla whispered and somehow found a way to send some of her own magic to join Kerril’s.
Everything hovered in the balance, then suddenly the sound of Pavros’s fury grew fainter and the last of the dirty mist vanished.
‘Ahh!’ sighed Kerril.
The blade was revealed in all its splendour, golden in colour, with runes engraved down its length. It was a thing of such beauty it made your breath catch in your throat.
‘Ronan!’ it cried. ‘Ronan, come to me.’
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Smiling, he began to move forward, still keeping his hand on Kerril’s shoulder, and with the smoothness of dancers, the three young people shifted into another position, still linked, but this time allowing the true-born king to stand in front of the other two.
But as Ronan stretched out his hands, pain lanced through him, making him gasp and falter.
‘Do not stop!’ cried the sword’s bell-like voice. ‘Do not stop or all is lost! Pain is the last of the magic barriers.’
Agony rocked Ronan on his heels and the two behind him now had to hold him upright, supporting him. Sweat stood out on his brow and he had to struggle to make even the slightest movement. The pain was so great that low groans were torn from him.