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Authors: Joe O'Brien

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BOOK: Beyond the Cherry Tree
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J
osh shivered with cold as Smolderin slowly descended into a thick depression of grey clouds, leaving the blue skies of Habilon a near memory.

Danthenum pointed toward a barren patch of ground at the swamp’s edge that was surrounded by a crowd of dead trees.

Smolderin dug his claws into the soft bog. His body sank until the ground oozed up around him, belching and
popping
poisonous bubbles until he could sink no more.

Danthenum turned to Bortwig. ‘Will our wait be a long one?’

Bortwig shook his head. ‘Wilzorf will not leave us to the mercy of the swamp,’ smiled the elf. His smile was a nervous one. ‘Much mischief in this place.’

It was freezing cold in the swamp. Josh could barely feel
his toes, but it was Bortwig’s words that sent the coldest shiver through his body. The still of the swamp had an eerie presence and Mad Argil was unusually quiet. This, in a funny kind of way, was disturbing as they had just become used to the dunger’s outbursts.

‘Are you sure the wizard is alive? I just don’t want to wait in this swamp forever,’ laughed Danthenum.

Danthenum’s humour didn’t sit well with the elf.

‘He is alive,’ argued Bortwig, ‘you will see. He will send his envoy.’

Just as Bortwig spoke, Mad Argil broke his silence.

‘There!’ shouted the crazed dunger, pointing into the blinding mist that haunted the still, murky waters.

Smolderin raised his head, and his eyes widened.

‘There’s nothing there, you fool,’ said Danthenum.

Smolderin opened his nostrils wide and began to inhale.

Josh could feel the dragon’s chest expand beneath him.

‘Everyone, get off,’ instructed Danthenum.

‘They’re coming to get us!’ raved Mad Argil.

Bortwig pushed Mad Argil into the bog. This was to Mad Argil’s great satisfaction. He had something to get stuck in; his dunger’s instinct switched on. He rolled about and dug his head and arms in deep.

‘What is it, Danthenum?’ worried Josh.

‘I’ve no idea,’ admitted the knight, ‘but Smolderin seems
to agree with Mad Argil.’

Danthenum led the boy and the elf around the back of Smolderin, wielding his sword in his hand.

‘What about Mad Argil?’ asked Josh.

‘Leave him,’ suggested Bortwig. ‘I hope whatever he has seen eats him. He’s beginning to really annoy me.’ Then Bortwig smiled at Josh.

Suddenly, Mad Argil’s head popped up out of the dirt.

‘They’re here!’

Smolderin exhaled flames of burning terror across the water, clearing the blinding mist.

There were horrifying screams followed by many splashes that rippled tiny waves toward the edge of the swamp.

Then they attacked.

There were hundreds, maybe more. Tiny blue demons no bigger than Josh’s hand roared into shore on the backs of slithering swamp eels. They spat a spray of darts into Smolderin’s thick, armoured skin.

The dragon bellowed in pain as some of the darts
penetrated
vulnerable parts of his body, particularly the insides of his ears and under his eyelids. Smolderin’s wings flapped
violently
in rage, and he breathed more fire across the swamp.

The blues were ashore!

Danthenum kicked and swiped at the blues, slashing many tiny heads clean from their bodies, but they were too quick,
and too plentiful. Smolderin thrashed the air, swinging around in rage as the blues covered his entire body.

‘Run!’ ordered Danthenum.

Bortwig turned and twisted, discharging bolts of magical gusts from the palms of his hands and sending the blues
tumbling
across the boggy floor.

Josh could feel the blues biting into his ankles and
climbing
up his legs, sticking the tiny darts into his flesh. It was agonising, but he was not going to stop running.

The blues were small and could not match the boy, the elf, or the knight in pace.

Mad Argil was slower than the others. By the time he had reached the thick of the swamp trees, blues were dangling from his long bearded chin, mischievously pulling on his skin, and biting his ears and lips.

The dunger fell.

Josh stopped running and grappled with the clinging terrors, pulling them from his skin. He flung them to the ground, then danced on them, leaving splodges of blue at his feet. Then he turned and walked back towards Mad Argil.

‘What are you doing, Master Bloom?’ called Bortwig. ‘Danthenum!’

The knight and the elf watched anxiously as the boy
commanded
the blues away from the dunger.

‘Leave him!’ ordered Josh.

More and more blues gathered but, for some mysterious reason, they did not attack the boy. The blues cleared from Mad Argil, and the angry dunger struggled to his feet. He swiped and grunted at the little swamp terrors.

‘Caught me by surprise,’ moaned Mad Argil as he limped toward Josh.

‘What’s happening?’ Danthenum asked the elf.

‘It’s beginning!’ answered Bortwig. ‘The envoy must be near.’

‘What’s beginning?’ asked Danthenum.

‘Shush!’ beckoned Bortwig. ‘Watch carefully. The boy is becoming brave. Yes! Wilzorf has made contact. Watch
carefully
!’

Suddenly, the blues scampered in all directions. They screeched and disappeared into the thickness of the swamp. Every single one of them. Even the ones that clung to Smolderin dove from the dragon’s back and vanished into the murky waters below. Something had spooked the blues. Something they saw in Josh’s eyes when he commanded them away from Mad Argil.

‘The wizard Wilzorf has made contact with Josh through his envoy. Magical powers have passed from the Wizard to the boy. The blues sense this, but they sense something else too. The envoy!’ said Bortwig to Danthenum.

Bortwig coaxed Mad Argil away from Josh and over to
where Danthenum was standing.

‘Now, be quiet,’ instructed the elf.

Suddenly something appeared from a tree in front of Josh. He didn’t startle or show any surprise; he was clearly already in some kind of hypnotic state.

The creature wrapped her wings around Josh and the boy disappeared inside them. Danthenum drew his sword.

‘Wait!’ warned Bortwig. ‘He is in no danger. It is Eusyphia, the wizard’s envoy. I knew she was close when I saw how the blues reacted to Josh.’

Danthenum returned his sword to his side. Eusyphia glanced toward them, and smiled. As she opened her wings wide, holding the sleeping boy against her underside, Bortwig told Danthenum how the witches of Zir had cursed Eusyphia with the hideous body of a giant swamp moth and left her beautiful face unchanged just to remind her of the beauty she once had.

Danthenum recognised this face as Eusyphia smiled to him, then rose up in the air and vanished through the thick camouflage of the trees.

‘I remember her!’ said Danthenum. ‘She was a girl when I was a young boy. She disappeared when bathing in the springs of the waterfalls.’

Bortwig looked to Danthenum.

‘The witches’ evil has touched many. Come, Danthenum.
We will travel ahead to the palace and address the council. The boy is with the wizard. They must prepare for his coming.’ 

E
usyphia gently approached the water, sensitively allowing tiny splashes to spray against Josh’s face.

Droplets rolled down the boy’s face and kissed his dry, thirsty lips.

He opened his eyes.

He did not know how he had come to be here, or who or what had hold of him, but he was calm. There was no sudden urge to fret or struggle. The beauty of the cascading waters danced in the light of the full moon.

Eusyphia spoke.

Josh knew some sort of insect creature was holding him, but her voice was delicate and filled him with comfort.

‘Fear not, boy. Let the magic of the waters wash over you and you will be with the wizard.’

Then she flew into the waterfall. The water did not thrash
against her wings, but gently washed over her with
familiarity
and fondness. Not one drop of water touched Josh’s body as Eusyphia hovered in the thick of the waterfall, then folded her wings and released Josh from her grasp.

‘He is on the other side. Go to him.’

Josh walked a few steps, his legs slowly finding their strength.

He turned to Eusyphia only to see her face slowly
disappear
back into the water. She was beautiful. She smiled to him and nodded. Then she was gone.

As Josh passed through to the other side, the parting waters closed behind him and formed a crystal clear wall of
cascading
beauty.

Standing small and frail, with his bearded chin bowed before Josh, was the wizard Wilzorf. Josh’s heart beat faster. He was happy and relieved that the wizard was alive, just as Bortwig had said.

Pressing his staff against the gritted floor, Wilzorf slowly and awkwardly approached Josh. He humbly took the boy’s hand and kissed it. Josh could not believe what was
happening
.

Why?
he thought.

It was as if Wilzorf knew him and had not just met him for the first time. Wilzorf raised his head. The warmest glow covered him and banished the pale, sickly look from his face.

‘You have returned, my lord,’ spoke the Wizard, weakly but with hope in his voice.

Josh was confused.

These were not the first words he expected to hear from the wizard.

Yes, he had questions, but Bortwig had told him that the wizard would give him answers before he even asked those questions. But Wilzorf’s first words to him were mind-boggling, to say the least.

‘What do you mean, “returned”?’ asked Josh.

‘Come, my lord. Come sit with me.’

Wilzorf led Josh over to a large flat stone that sat beside the water’s edge. There was a silent moment. It was as if the wizard had waited so long for this moment, and now that it was finally here, he needed just one more moment to
prepare
himself.

Then, he began to give all the answers that Bortwig had said he would, before the questions were even asked.

‘Your destiny,’ began Wilzorf, ‘has returned you to Habilon.’

‘I was here before?’ asked Josh. ‘But, I thought my destiny was to find the general!’

Wilzorf shook his head with sadness.

‘My good friend, General Pennington, has played a part in your being here, but he is not the reason for your journey.’

Wilzorf could see worry filling Josh’s eyes. This is not what
the boy had expected to hear. It was as if he was now lost in his journey.

Wilzorf took Josh’s hand.

‘Are you ready to know your destiny?’

Josh nodded. ‘Yes, Wilzorf!’ he said assertively.

‘Twelve years ago, Habilon was ruled by King Borlamon and Queen Trila. And before Borlamon, his father, King Theldor. The king always ruled with his wizard by his side. It was tradition.

‘Sygrim was Theldor’s wizard. There was a magical bond between king and wizard, symbolised by the magical orb and the king’s sword. The King of Habilon entrusted the powers and magic of the orb to his wizard and the wizard would always use its powers for good and good only. This was always the way, until one day …’ Wilzorf’s head dropped a little.

Josh’s eyes fixed on Wilzorf’s lips. He hung onto every word the wizard spoke.

Wilzorf continued, ‘It was decided that Sygrim would take an apprentice since he became ill. But two, not one, had gained Sygrim’s interest. I was one and my brother, Krudon, was the other. For many years Sygrim taught us well and Theldor commended our talents for magic.

‘One day, Krudon changed the tradition of Habilon
forever
. Sygrim had become suspicious of Krudon. His trust
in him lessened until finally his fears were realised. Krudon was planning to use the orb for evil instead of good. When Sygrim approached Krudon about it, my brother killed our frail master and fled.’

‘Did he take the orb?’ Josh interrupted the wizard.

Wilzorf shook his head.

‘Krudon knew that the powers of the orb could only be wielded by a wizard who had the king’s blessing. Theldor would have driven his sword through Krudon’s black heart. So, Krudon fled, knowing deep inside his twisted, evil mind that in time there would be a way to get what he wanted. As the years went by, Theldor ruled without a wizard by his side and the magic of the orb grew dormant.’

‘Why?’ asked Josh. ‘Why did he not trust you? It’s not
your
fault that your brother was evil.’

‘Thank you, my lord,’ smiled the wizard. ‘But I cannot question the king’s good judgement and he felt that as I was of the same blood line as Krudon, he could not place his trust in me.’

Josh felt a little sorry for Wilzorf as the wizard continued his story.

‘Theldor died and was replaced by his heir, Borlamon,’ said Wilzorf. ‘Borlamon, like his father, was a good king and we became good friends. He promised his dying father that he would not break his wishes and would not return a wizard to
his side. Theldor had lost all trust in the wizard’s powers with the orb, as he grew paranoid with old age.’

‘What happened to Krudon?’

Wilzorf’s eyes filled with contempt.

‘Krudon hid in exile, practising his evil sorcery until he became more powerful and evil than Sygrim would ever had imagined. He built up alliances with other evils of Habilon, and when he felt the time was right, he attacked the
Kingdom
of Habilon with merciless fury. Many perished, young and old, and even though the powers of the orb could still be called upon, King Borlamon would not break his promise to Theldor.’

A tear rolled down Wilzorf’s face.

‘There was nothing I could do. My powers were not enough to save them.’

‘Save who?’

‘King Borlamon and Queen Trila. They, along with many, died at Krudon’s command.’

‘Danthenum said that you were killed too?’

Wilzorf shook his head, almost shamefully.

‘No! Not true, but that is what many believe. More
importantly
, Krudon believes it. This is why I have remained in hiding for so many years.’

‘What do you mean?’

Hope returned to Wilzorf’s face.

‘Borlamon had two children. Before the king and queen died, they had been blessed with a baby boy and a baby girl – twins. The boy was first born. He would be next in line, and then his sister if anything should happen to him. Krudon knew this and his next evil plan was to kill them both along with their parents. But they were hidden and escaped
Krudon’s
darkness. Borlamon’s dying wish to me was to keep his children safe from Krudon, and when the time was right, return his son, heir to his throne, to power with a wizard by his side. The power of the orb was to be returned to the Kingdom of Habilon. It was decided without hesitation that the general would flee with both babies and take them to the safety of the other world on the far side of the Great Tree, until the time was right for the heir of Habilon to return and rule as king.’

‘So Habilon has had no king?’

‘Habilon has been governed from the palace by a high council,’ said Wilzorf with what sounded like regret in his voice. ‘Habilon has always had nobles, but the high council of three was appointed after the death of King Borlamon.’

‘You don’t approve?’ asked Josh. He sensed that Wilzorf didn’t agree with the high council.

Wilzorf shrugged his shoulders. ‘Approve – don’t approve. This is not a judgement for a wizard to make. The high council have had Habilon’s best interests in heart just as their
king did, but a kingdom needs a king.’

Josh began to wonder about Wilzorf’s words; the wizard had said Josh had “returned” to Habilon and told him of how the general had fled to the other side of the Great Tree with a baby boy and girl, King Borlamon’s children.

Could I be the king’s son?
he thought.
Tigfry the elf said that I was ‘The One’ and everything evil here is trying to kill me. But Wilzorf said a boy and girl. I have no sister. It can’t be me!

Wilzorf continued.

‘Before the general made it to safety, Serula, one of the three witches, attacked them. She poisoned Zera, the
princess
, with a cursed cat’s claw. She had aimed for the boy, but the claw only grazed his arm. Zera was in very poor health and it was feared that she would not survive the journey. So she remained behind while the general fled with the prince.’

Josh’s eyes widened as he pulled up his sleeve to reveal a scar on his right arm.

‘I’ve had this since I was a baby!’ said Josh. ‘Well, that’s what uncle Henry told me, anyway.’

Wilzorf bowed his head before Josh. ‘It is the scar of the cat’s claw, my lord.’

‘Are you saying that
I’m
King Borlamon’s son?’

Wilzorf smiled. ‘You are Prince Joshua, heir of Borlamon, my lord.’

‘But … Bortwig?’ stuttered Josh. ‘Why didn’t he tell me
any of this?’

Wilzorf chuckled. ‘Bortwig did as he was asked to do, my lord. An adventurous path was to be laid before you, magic and all. The truth, my lord, would have been too great on the other side of the tree. It is tradition in Habilon, my lord that at the coming of age – thirteen to be precise – the heir to the throne must prove both bravery and goodness of heart. As your circumstances were not normal, your test was laid before you in a different, but equally demanding, way.’

Wilzorf smiled at Josh. ‘Your sister, my lord, on reaching her thirteenth birthday on the same day as you, also proved both bravery and goodness of heart, just like her brother.’

‘My sister!’ Josh said out loud. He had never said that before. It sounded and felt good. ‘So she’s okay, then? She’s well, I mean, after the witch’s poison – she recovered,
Wilzorf.
Was she healed by the magical orb? Has it got healing powers?’

Wilzorf nodded. ‘The orb, your highness, has great
healing
powers, but as magical as they are, there are restrictions. A person can only be healed once by the orb, and it cannot bring the dead back from shadow, and a wizard cannot avail of the orb’s magic of healing.’

‘Like Sygrim, when he became ill,’ suggested Josh.

Once again, the wizard nodded his head.

‘But what about Zera, Wilzorf? Was she healed by the orb
when she was a baby?’

Wilzorf shook his head. ‘Your sister recovered well, my lord, but it was her own inner greatness that healed her and time of course, great time, not the orb. The orb my lord became dormant on the day your father died, and dormant it has remained until recently.’

‘Recently?’ repeated Josh.

‘Yes, my lord. You see, the orb’s powers can only be wielded if there is a king or queen to do so, and an heir to the throne of Habilon only comes of age at the age of thirteen. You were only a baby when Zera was poisoned by the witch so the orb’s powers could not be used. This is why it was decided that the general hide you in his world beyond the Great Tree and it is also why you have now returned.’

Finally Josh had answers. Maybe not all the answers, as he still wondered where the missing general was. Nonetheless, even though he was happy with the answers that the wizard had given to him, his heart had one question for the wizard.

‘What about Henry and Nell, my uncle and aunt?’

‘Henry, the general’s gardener. Yes,’ smiled Wilzorf, ‘the general entrusted you to his gardener, then returned beyond the Great Tree to defend the Kingdom of Habilon, the
kingdom
he had grown to love so much.’

‘But he never came back,’ added Josh.

‘No,’ said Wilzorf. ‘And so you were raised by the gardener
and his wife, under the watchful eye of the general’s
daughter
. And raised well, as I see before me.’

Josh thought of just how well he had been raised by Henry and Nell. He thought of all the good times they had given him and how they looked out for him and loved him as a son, knowing all along that one day he would have to leave them.

Josh also thought of other things back home – school, his friends, especially Matty, and even the little things, that had once seemed so much a part of his daily life, like the old man who sold newspapers on the corner of Maple Green. All of these things were now so important to Josh.

Have I to leave all of this behind me, forever?

BOOK: Beyond the Cherry Tree
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