Earth's Magic (24 page)

At last they reached Salisbury Plain. The great grassland stretched in rolling waves in all directions. Once small villages had been scattered around it, but now the only inhabitants lived in the distant town of Salisbury itself. Ancient remnants of far older times still marked the plain. The crumbling pavement of pre-Devastation roads followed the course of earlier roads laid out by the Romans and tracks followed long before that by the earliest Britons. Toppled stone circles and hunched burial mounds spoke of the long-held sacred nature of this patch of earth.

An aura of waiting and dread hung in the air of the place like an acrid, invisible cloud. The solstice was nearly upon them, and still Merlin had not returned. Heather felt fear twisting inside her like a snake. She feared for his mission, and she feared for him. Had something dreadful happened to him? Despite all his skill and power, had he been defeated? Would the world end in chaos because of it? Would she die alone?

Tormented on this eve of battle, Heather, with Rus trotting at her heels, walked to the edge of Arthur’s sprawling camp. Banners from many shires now fluttered in the evening breeze. Beyond them, Heather recognized several clusters of what she thought were creatures of Faerie. She even thought she noticed a few bands of muties, including shaggy orange ones, lurking in shadowed areas. They were clearly shy and wanting to avoid attention, so she did not approach them, much as she would have liked to. But she wished that Earl could be there to see this.

Soldiers she passed as she threaded her way through the campfires occasionally nodded to her. She tried to smile back, though it was Rus, who had almost become the army mascot, that they were most friendly with. Before they had reached the end of camp, each of the dog’s heads had been thrown a large, meaty bone.

She walked on, trying to shut out the tense, excited chatter around her, the heartening sound of harp and pipes, and the normally enticing smell of cookfires. The fear gnawing at her center left no room for food or any attempt at being cheered. At last, sitting on a stone that thrust itself through the dry turf, Heather let the dusk settle around her like a fog. Rus flopped down beside her, working contentedly on his new bones. Heather tried to clear her mind, hoping to pick up some message from Earl, though they had never succeeded at exchanging mental messages before. It seemed that only a few new magic workers could do that, and Earl’s magic was unquestionably old.

She had just sunk into quiet calm when a voice startled her from behind. Rus growled, dropped his bones, and cocked all four ears.

“Well, Heather, I’ve kept my word. I’ve come to join Arthur.”

She twisted around. “Nigel! I’m … I’m glad. We hoped you would.”

“Sometimes old animosities have to be put aside … for the greater good. So where is Earl, then?”

“Elsewhere.”

“Leaving you alone on the eve of battle? Not very friendly of him.”

She reddened slightly. “It’s a busy time for magic workers.”

“It is, indeed,” Nigel said as he gestured into the shadows. “For all kinds of magic workers!” Something hunched and hairy suddenly shambled forward.
Goblin
, Heather thought with alarm as she jumped to her feet. A spidery black net swirled through the air and dropped around her. Wherever the net touched her skin, it jolted her with pain. Moaning, she sank to the ground. Blearily, through the mesh of pain, she saw Rus with both jaws open and snarling, launching himself at the goblin. The hunched creature recoiled and whacked the dog with a huge
club. Rus yelped twice and was sent flying into the night. Heather felt her dog’s pain double her own.

Then, at a word from Nigel, the goblin swung the net onto its back and loped off. The clinging agony was too overwhelming for Heather to focus on anything besides the fire engulfing her. After excruciating minutes, the pain blossomed again as the net sack was dropped roughly on the ground.

At first she was flooded with mindless pain, but slowly Heather found that by keeping absolutely still, she could avoid touching more of the pain-inducing cords and make her mind focus on what was happening outside the net.

“… fulfilled my part of the bargain,” she heard Nigel saying. “You said either would be useful, and I’ve brought you the girl.”

“But her boyfriend still eludes you.” The voice chilled Heather like ice water. Morgan.

“He won’t for long. I’ll catch him too if the opportunity arises. His reputation is way overblown.”

“You think so?” The woman’s voice sounded coldly amused.

“Oh, I’ve known the troublesome brat for a long time. I can handle him. But do not forget, my lady, I have fulfilled the other part of my bargain as well. My army is here on the battlefield. Though this phony King Arthur may think otherwise, when the time comes, I and my forces, though they don’t realize it yet, will fight
on your
side.”

“I will be in your debt,” Morgan said, but Heather could still hear the undertone of chill amusement in her voice.

“No, do not speak of debt. We shall mutually benefit,” Nigel said grandly. “When I am High King of Britain, you shall rule at my side. You shall be my royal wizard.”

Morgan’s laugh was sudden and sharp as a snakebite. “How generous! Stupid boy, Morgan Le Fay is nobody’s minion! Enough of this game. I have serious business to attend to!”

“Well, well, not wizard, then, if you don’t wish it. But I
shall
be High King. You promised. Our bargain—”

“Is now inconvenient!” Slicing her hand through the air, Morgan raked knives of green light across Nigel’s face and chest. Screaming, he dropped writhing to the ground. Without another glance at her former ally, Morgan gestured to her hairy servant and strode into the night. Again hoisting the net, the goblin scurried after. And again, Heather was flooded with deafening pain.

After long, jostling agony, she was dropped again. Another explosion of pain sent her into merciful blackness.

Heather woke to find her body still tingling but the net gone. Cautiously, she shook her head, trying to clear her sight. In the gray darkness of moon-tinged night, darker shapes loomed. Most were angular and solid. One moved. Morgan lit a small globe of green fire and bounced it casually in one hand.

“If I thought you would accept my hospitality willingly, you could avoid this sort of treatment, my dear. But you did not seem very appreciative last time.”

“Hospitality?” Heather shouted, sitting up. “Abduction and being carried off to the gods know where! So what is your plan this time? Use me as bait again, or do you still want to drink my blood?”

“Well, the bait idea is always an option,” Morgan said smoothly. “But I’m not certain your boyfriend will even be showing up for this battle. I believe he’s been facing a few difficulties on this rather mysterious trip of his. Still, I haven’t been able to keep very close track of his doings, and that explains your real value to me, my dear. I have learned that you and a network of others around the world have developed some sort of interesting method of communication. Learning how to do that as well would be of great use to me and my … friends. So you see, little Heather, you are of use to me in your own right. And now
far more use to me alive than as the source of a nicely refreshing drink.”

Heather flinched, then quickly tried to mask her thoughts. Morgan had just confirmed that mind-talking was something that she and her kind couldn’t do. Useful information. Still, however she managed it, Morgan seemed to have some knowledge of what was happening to Earl. That he was facing danger. That he might not return. Despite her efforts, distress flickered across Heather’s face.

Morgan laughed. Then she tossed her ball of light into the air. It shot off to the right and began sketching a large circle around them, leaving a tracery of green light behind. Heather watched dizzily as the glowing green filaments slowly revealed where she was. As the ball of light circled around and around, it wove a web between tall, angular standing stones. Some were tilted and some had fallen on the ground, but a few had massive stone lintels still stretched between them like gigantic doorways.

She knew where she was now. Stonehenge.

Jumping up, Heather charged to the edge of the stone circle. With a flick of green power, Morgan thrust her back, sending her skidding over the rocky ground. “No, no, my dear, I need to keep you here safe for a while. Don’t worry. You’ll be able to watch the battle quite well from here. Once my side has won, I’ll come back for you. Then we’ll see about your teaching me that little mind trick of yours. That should prove quite useful once my friends and I are running this world.”

Still sprawled on the ground, Heather tightened her fingers around a jagged stone. With an angry cry, she hurled it at Morgan only to have it vaporize in a flash of green.

Ignoring Morgan’s scornful laugh, Heather lunged to her feet and yelled, “I’ll never help you, you vile, twisted witch! And you and your scum will never run this world!”

Morgan raised her hands in mock dismay. “Such language!
I know your dear mother and thought she would have taught you better. No matter. You’ll be my pupil from now on. But that can wait. I really must be going.”

Morgan strode toward the web of pulsing green light, that now completely entwined the stone circle. The filaments rippled like water as she easily passed through. Charging behind her, Heather aimed for the same spot but collided with something as solid-feeling as iron chains.

“Relax, my dear,” Morgan called back through the night. “If I run into our mutual friend Merlin, I’ll give him your greetings. Though, frankly, I very much doubt either of us will be seeing him again. Such a pity.” Her laugh receded through the darkness.

Heather paced around the stone circle like a caged animal. At various places, she tried breaking through the delicate-seeming green filaments. But each rebuff was strong and painful. Whenever she threw stones or dirt against them, the filaments crackled and sparked but remained unbroken. Between times of furious pacing, she sat in the center of the circle and thought. She was hardly in Morgan’s class, but she could use magic too. The few opening spells she tried proved useless. But there was always her specialty, animal magic.

Looking up, she could tell that the cage of green power completely covered the stone circle. There seemed no chance of anything flying in or of her flying out even if she could manage a shape change. How about below? Could she contact moles and convince them to dig a tunnel for her to escape? She rejected that idea. Even if there were any moles or other earth diggers about, it would surely take too long for them to dig a tunnel she could use.

Suppose she turned herself into a mole? She had succeeded once before in transforming into a rat. It had been under the
pressure of escaping certain death, but this situation wasn’t a lot different. Then she had a rat friend, however, and knew exactly what one looked like. She didn’t have a very good picture of moles in her head. Closing her eyes in concentration, Heather cast around with her mind to see if there were any moles nearby.

She found one almost immediately, but it was squealing in frustration. “Net! Hot net! Nasty net! Can’t get up. Bother!”

So it seemed the net totally encased her. Upward was no option, and there was no way out by going down either. Fighting back tears of frustration, Heather resumed her methodical pacing around the circle, testing its strength, looking for weaknesses. She found none.

Far beyond the stone pylons, she could see the glimmer of campfires. Arthur’s army, augmented now by contingents from around Britain and elsewhere, awaited the dawn. She wondered what would happen now with the Glamorganshire contingent. With Nigel having been struck down, would they follow his twisted plan and join with Morgan? Had they even known his intentions? Or would new leaders take them over to Arthur’s side?

She stared intently through the night but could see no campfires from opposing armies. However, with the barriers between worlds collapsing, the enemy could be lurking anywhere. Shadows and darkness were their natural habitat. The one ominous thing she did see while peering out between the stones and the glowing green grid was the hunched shape of the goblin that had captured her. Morgan had left it behind as a guard, though a guard hardly seemed needed with her in this impenetrable cage. Still, if Morgan
had
thought one necessary, might there actually be some faint possibility of escape? Focusing on this scrap of hope instead of the rising mountain of frustration, Heather grimly resumed her pacing and testing.

Slowly the sky in the east began fading to a lighter shade of gray. The stones towering around her stood out in darker silhouette against it. A gold tinge rippled along the horizon. The sun was nearing. Looking east, Heather could see a single dark stone jutting at an angle from the grass well outside the stone circle. Above its tip, the first chink of rising sunlight appeared. Golden shafts of light shot between two of the standing stones, slicing across the center of the circle. They splashed against a single stone, illuminating its worn carvings. The sun had risen on the Summer Solstice.

Suddenly the ground under her quaked. The whole plain undulated as if someone were shaking out a great blanket. With a rending crack, patches of earth surrounding the plain split open. Darkness poured forth, darkness in the form of hideous armies.

Heather was thrown violently to the ground as the earth continued to shake. For minutes it quivered and groaned as if the Earth shared Heather’s horror and her growing fear for the future. The battle, perhaps the final battle, had begun.

C
ONFRONTATION