The Magic Lands Page 10

RITH-RAN-RO-EN

  Within Jack's tired mind a battle waged. Two voices sought control of his thoughts.

  Things will be so much better now. And after all, he does deserve to die. Isn’t he a thief and a liar? He was never your friend anyway. Forget him. Forget you ever knew him.

  This first voice seemed so reasonable, so plausible and he would have been content to listen to it, if it were not for another voice that screamed at him. The sound was loud and frantic, seeming to pound inside his skull.

  Help Tom! He's in terrible danger. Help him! HELP HIM!

  Jack felt as if his mind was being torn apart. Anomalous images ricocheted through his brain, fragments of memories that he could not piece together however hard he tried.

  Everything is fine, a gentle voice cooed, reminding him of his mother. The boy is not worth risking anything for. Look out for yourself. Only yourself.

  But the other voice rose louder and louder in his head, refusing to be suppressed.

  You must act NOW! Do something or he'll die. TOM WILL DIE! Is that what you really want?

  With a tremendous effort of will, as if slowly emerging from another dark dream, Jack shook his head absently. "Tom," he mouthed. "Tom!"

  Slowly at first but then breaking into a run, Jack made his way through the trees, stumbling over high banks, patches of slippery ice threatening to send him sprawling

  into the snow. Searching desperately with his eyes as he ran, Jack saw the blue of Tom's

  jersey at the foot of a shimmering ice tree. "Tom," he shouted, "Stop! Don't do it!" But with a sense of horror he saw that Tom had already begun to climb, hauling himself up into the lower branches of the tree.

  Gaining speed as he raced toward his friend, the snow sliding and crunching under his

  boots, Jack flung himself forward, grabbing at Tom's dangling leg. Then, with a great heave, he pulled with all his strength, his breath forced out of his body as Tom landed clumsily on top of him, both boys collapsing onto the cold, icy ground. Within Jack's head voices whispered and muttered, but the words were unintelligible. A vision of a woman's face loomed in his mind, her moist, red lips curled up in a ferocious snarl, white teeth glinting razor-sharp and he wondered blankly if she meant to eat him. Then the image dissolved as he heard a familiar voice calling his name. "Jack...Jack, are you all right?" Blinking his eyes, he saw the face of a boy he knew very well. "Is he all right?" questioned the boy with obvious concern.

  "I think that he is relatively unharmed," answered another, deeper voice.

  Carefully sitting up, Jack felt a sharp pain in his ribs. "Ouch!" he exclaimed and rubbed his side gently.

  "What’s wrong?" asked the boy kneeling at his side. "Are you hurt?"

  "Probably just a bruise," Jack assessed and looking up at the other boy's face he experienced a sudden joy. "Tom," he said, as if just savouring the sound of the word.

  His friend smiled back at him. "Yes, it's me."

  With a bemused grin Jack got to his feet, feeling a little winded and with a few aches and pains, but all of this didn't seem to matter. It was as though he had been away for a very long time and had finally returned home.

  The desert unfurled before them, a yellow covering for an unforgiving land. It was said that each grain of sand was a single tear, shed by those who had lost themselves in this searing, oppressive terrain.

  Dredger was indifferent. He had no intention of letting whatever influence the dunes had touch his mind. He would not be kept from his purpose by anything or anyone. Glancing over at the mysterious figure who rode at his side, the warrior once more questioned the motives of the masked man. But these thoughts were left unresolved when his companion spoke.

  "Can you feel it?"

  Dredger eyed him quizzically. "What should I be feeling?"

  "A thousand men's tears perhaps," Geheimnis responded, his voice even.

  "It is said," Dredger related, scanning the horizon, ever watchful, "that once within this desert land, a traveller may see many things unreal, born of imagination."

  "Or desperation," the other man added. "Certainly mirages and dreams are common in these parts. But other phenomena exist here besides. Things beyond the understanding of mortal men."

  "Let us remember, if we should need reminding," Dredger said with irritation, "desert visions are no more than that and should be ignored."

  "Quite so," Geheimnis agreed, a little scornfully.

  As they rode on across the yielding ground, the animals progress halting among the rising dunes, Dredger pondered on his situation and whether he was perhaps making a grave mistake. Could he trust this man who wore a mask? True, the horse made his journey far easier than he had expected it to be, but he had deep reservations about Geheimnis. And what lay behind that mask? What could be so dreadful that it must be hidden from sight? And what was the stranger's true purpose? The warrior knew he would have to remain vigilant.

  Suddenly, Geheimnis brought his mare to a standstill. "Look,” he said sharply. "There, ahead of us." With a gloved hand he pointed into the shimmering heat-haze.

  Dredger blinked his eyes. Out of the dunes, as if reaching for the sky, there sprouted a gargantuan hand. Its fingers were spread wide, flesh grey and pallid, apparently lifeless.

  Drawing closer neither man spoke, Geheimnis' mask impassive, but Dredger sensed that he too found this monstrosity extraordinary. It is only a mirage, he prompted himself firmly and yet he pulled up his steed and studied the giant hand.

  "Look closely," Geheimnis called back, going on a little way ahead, bringing his horse to a halt just beneath the huge palm. "There are markings here." Dredger did not move. He looked up to where broad fingers loomed, the long, opaque nails like great flints. "Very interesting," his companion observed, studying the hand at close quarters. "Come nearer

  and examine them for yourself, they may be important."

  For a moment Dredger hesitated. His heart told him to stay away from this unnatural

  thing, but his mind insisted that he must learn all he could from this brooding place.

  Slowly, he moved his horse forward.

  "Yes," pronounced Geheimnis, turning toward the warrior, "the way to the Land of

  Scars is marked here. If we follow the direction of the index finger, it will guide us on our journey."

  Dredger saw only unintelligible symbols etched on the grey skin. At the base of the thumb, index and little finger there was a different marking, their meaning lost to the warrior. "You understand these signs?" he queried.

  It was almost no surprise when Dredger saw that Geheimnis' mask had reverted to a smiling visage once more. "I see that I have impressed you, Dredger, but surely it had occurred to you that a traveller would be in need of some direction to find the way across the desert. Otherwise, my friend, it is likely you would travel a very great distance indeed…in circles!"

  Grunting, the warrior gritted his teeth in annoyance. "You will have to earn the right to call me friend." The mask continued to smile merrily at him but the man beneath said nothing more. "Now let us continue on or do you wish to study this miscreation further?" Dredger growled.

  "No need," answered the other man. "I have learned all there is to know."

  They began to ride again, passing under the great shadow of the outstretched hand, which according to the masked man indicated the way to the Land of Scars, the city of Hydan lost within its estranged heart.

  As they left the thing behind, the heat almost tangible around them though there was no sun visible in the sky, neither man looked back to see the gigantic hand very gradually sink into the scorched sand, the desert sucking it down into its secret depths.

  The White Wolf sat upon a throne and licked its lips with a long, black tongue. "Bring me news from the west, bring me news from the east, bring me news of every man, boy and beast," it whispered into the wind. Its brilliant eyes scanned the surrounding woodland, the throne beneath a mighty tree, hanging branches like a roof above its head. Befo
re the Beast two white doves rested at its feet, glassy eyes regarding it impassively. "I am the law, the law of the land." The birds fluttered their wings and rose into the air, the Wolf watching them go with a cunning grin. "Go my pretty ones," it rasped, "go where my heart sends you. Fly into my dreamland. And if you can tell me things that I do not already know..." the Wolf laughed shortly, "it will truly be news to me."

  The Beast leaned its muscular frame back against the throne. It had been fashioned from the bones of its enemies and stained with their blood. And for comfort beneath its hindquarters there was a cushion of human flesh.

  The White Wolf chuckled playfully to itself. Everything was moving swiftly now. Almost too fast. But it was in control. Admittedly not all of its plans had worked out

  the way it might have hoped. But there would be many other opportunities, many

  other weaknesses to exploit. The land belonged to the Beast, to shape as it willed.

  And there was work to be done.

  "The caves lay just ahead," Mo reported, nodding toward a dark outcrop of rock a few hundred yards away.

  "Maybe it'll be safer inside there," suggested Jack with no conviction.

  "Unfortunately," retorted the badger, "that will not be the case."

  Tom walked beside his two friends, his mind tired and disoriented. He knew that somehow Jack had saved his life, but his memory of the incident was patchy and incomplete. "What happened to me?" he had asked, not long after Jack had pulled him from the tree.

  "The lure of the ice," Mo had replied without hesitation. "I should have anticipated it, but I was careless. You were lucky that Jack got to you in time, or you would have been lost to us. Once you become one with the ice, there is no return."

  Just for a moment Tom glanced up at one of the many glittering trees, the ice twinkling like a million stars. But the music of the forest was no longer beautiful or melodic to him. Now it was discordant and harsh and he quickly turned his eyes toward the snow covered ground. "That's the second time the Wolf has almost got me," he mumbled, the realisation of just how close he had come to death making him feel sick inside.

  Mo nodded his big head. "It is not my intention to frighten you, Tom, but I cannot

  deceive you. The Beast knows that it must stop you, by whatever means it has at its

  disposal. It will bring you over to its side, if it can, but if not, it will do all that it can to kill you."

  The heat fell upon them like a rain of fire.

  Both horses were sweating badly and Dredger had begun to doubt if the creatures would survive the journey. He had already decided that at the first sign of his steed giving way he would dismount and walk. As for his companion, his mask was now plain and expressionless, revealing nothing of how the man beneath might be faring in the humid conditions. Dredger had long since removed his heavy coat and unbuttoned his shirt, but incredibly the masked man still wore his cloak and showed no sign of even loosening it. Before them on every side, the sand appeared eternal.

  "And what is this?" hailed Geheimnis.

  The warrior peered ahead and saw in the distance amongst the golden dunes, several trees forming a haphazard circle. "An oasis?" he questioned.

  "Surely a mirage," the masked man said dryly but made off toward it nonetheless, spurring his mare on at a canter.

  Following, his horse quickening its step almost independently, Dredger saw that indeed within the trees lay a small pool of clear water. "Can we trust this place?" he called, reluctant to venture too close.

  Turning his mount, Geheimnis came along side the other man. "The horses need water that we ourselves cannot spare from our own supply. I think that, for their sake, it is worth the risk."

  Dredger evaluated the situation and then nodded. Cautiously the two men manoeuvred their horses into the oasis, bringing them to a standstill at the edge of the pool and immediately the animals dipped their weary heads into the water and eagerly drank.

  Looking down Dredger saw his own dry, dusky features reflected there, his hair clinging to his scalp like brittle wire and he too longed to submerge his head beneath the refreshing, cool water. The horses continued to gulp it up, quenching their burning thirst after the arduous journey. If only he could wash away the sweat and dust, easing his blistered lips, but he fought against his longing, distrustful of this convenient haven.

  The oasis upon further inspection consisted of perhaps a dozen small trees and a few boulders scattered erratically within its boundary. Geheimnis dismounted, informing his companion that he would take a look around.

  Left alone beside the water, Dredger peered down once more at his own reflection. He studied his face, but something about it had altered. And then, quite suddenly, he understood what it was. Instead of the features of man, a boy's unlined face stared back at him. Dredger smiled and his mirror smiled in return, but then beside the boy another face appeared and the warrior's smile dissolved, becoming a frown.

  "No sign," his father told him from the water.

  "Where can they have gone?" Dredger whispered, looking deeply into the man's grey eyes.

  A darkness clouded his father's expression as he shook his head. "Taken. All taken."

  Dredger was overcome by fear and grief and a tear rolled down past his lips. "Will they ever come back?" the boy in the pool asked, afraid to hear the answer. His father did not speak, his eyes blank. "I hate the Wolf," Dredger said, his voice hoarse.

  The water rippled as the horses drank and the warrior looked away, his hands clenched into tight fists.

  "There is nothing here," came Geheimnis' voice, a short distance to his right. "But I think, to be safe, it would be better for us not to touch the water." Dredger gave no reply, settling himself carefully, ready to face the other man. "Are the animals refreshed?" enquired the masked man, drawing nearer.

  "Yes," answered the warrior curtly, "we can now continue."

  Remounting his mare, Geheimnis nodded. "An interesting place, don't you think?"

  As they moved off, although he did not look up at the man's face, Dredger felt quite certain that the mask was smiling blithely at him once again.

  Above them towered the sheer cliff walls, the mountain's snow-capped peaks lost in the heavens. The entrance to the caves was like a black, gaping mouth, waiting to swallow them and Tom was immediately overcome by a very strong feeling that he didn't want to enter into that darkness.

  "It's pretty dark," mentioned Jack in a hesitant voice, echoing Tom's thoughts.

  "But still," voiced Mo, "we must go within, for only through the caves of Rith-ran-ro-en can we find the way that we seek, the way to our goal." The badger did not wait for any further discussion on the matter. He hurried forward into the inky opening in the rock-face, drawing a rather wary Tom and Jack along with him, leaving behind the bright realm of Issylvan.

  "What do we have to find that can tell us the right way to go?" Tom asked as they moved along a poorly lit tunnel. The path wound ahead of them, the only light seeming to infiltrate the blackness from some unknown source.

  "It is said," began Mo in a hushed voice, "that within the caves of Rith-ran-ro-en, a traveller might ask and find the way that he seeks. But it is also said that only one of great purpose and courage should ask the way of Rith-ran-ro-en."

  "So who is Rith-ran-ro-en?" queried Tom, fascinated by the story, although he had a bad feeling that he was going to be the one who would have to do the asking.

  "Who or what," the animal said thoughtfully. "Once, there was a woman named Sarah, who, though a great beauty of her time, was unloved by all men, for it is said that she had a dark way about her that alienated any potential suitors. So it came to pass that she cast a hex upon a young man causing him to desire her above all things. Her evil spell even induced him to shun his own family, craving only her. But this was not enough for her and whilst a terrible tempest ravaged the land, as if incited by the storm beyond her walls, Sarah forced her young lover to murder his kin, fearing they would be ab
le to break her vile enchantment. But when the deed was done the very act she had hoped would bind him to her, finally broke the spell and discovering what he had done, he took his own unfortunate life."

  Tom and Jack remained silent for some time after the badger had finished speaking. But eventually Tom managed a question. "So what happened to the woman?"

  In the half-light, Mo looked very old. "Cursed for her crimes, she was banished to these caves and became known by another name, Rith-ran-ro-en, which means in the old tongue, ‘she who will never know love’."

  "And she's in here now?" whispered Jack, glancing fitfully at the shadowy walls of the tunnel.

  "So it is said," the badger declared.

  "And we have to ask her which way to go?" inquired Tom with disbelief.

  "Yes," Mo confirmed, "but only whilst she sleeps," he added quickly. "Then you are safe, but if she awakens, there can be no escape. She will never let you go.”

  As they continued to walk along the tunnel, travelling deeper into the catacombs, they passed through many narrow passages that led them abruptly into huge caverns, water dripping monotonously in the shadows.

  "How will we know when she's asleep?" Jack asked as they entered one such cave, a claustrophobic presence that he hoped was just his imagination nagging at him.

  "Ah!" exclaimed the badger, turning to stare at the boy, his dark eyes glowing in the strange light. "That is the difficult part of the problem. We cannot know. We must place our trust in providence."

  "Somehow I don't feel very lucky in this place," quipped Jack.

  “Luck has nothing to do with it, young Jack” countered Mo. “There are powers that you as yet do not understand at work here. No luck, just faith. That is all we need.”

  Jack did not respond, but he seemed to consider the badger‘s words carefully.

  "So we could just bump into this...woman or whatever she is?" Tom voiced, feeling more and more afraid.

  "No Tom, it’s not quite as bad as that. When she was banished to this place she was bound by powerful magic to the deepest regions of the caves. Only when we reach the heart, through many long tunnels, will we find her lair."

  "And what if she’s awake?"

  "Then," Mo said, sounding more confident than any of them actually felt, "we will have to think of something."

  The horses died, less than a mile from the oasis. Dredger could only look on as his valiant steed submitted to death's silent command. Of course, the water had been poisoned.

  But the death of the horses did achieve one thing at least. Incensed at the callous trap, and he was in no doubt that it had been exactly that, he was able to shake off the negative state of mind that had been progressively undermining his resolve like some unconscious quicksand.

  Geheimnis said very little and as there was no way of knowing what he was thinking behind his plain mask, Dredger had no idea if the man felt any grief at the death of his steed.

  "I am ready to walk," the warrior stated, glancing grimly down at the dead animals.

  Geheimnis appeared to regard Dredger for a moment, his shadowy eyes surveying him silently. "And what of the horses?" he asked evenly.

  "What of them?"

  "Shall we not bury them?"

  Dredger paused, the man's request taking him by surprise. "There is no time for such sentiments," he said after a moment, his tone sharp. "Let us waste no further time or energy." He kicked at the sand with his boot. "The desert will do the work for us in time."

  Geheimnis's mask now smiled at him with a sarcastic leer. "Such a hard man," he sang, "such a warrior. And yet he sheds a tear at his own reflection in a poisoned pond. Why is that, Dredger my friend? Perhaps you are not as strong as you believe. Could that be it? Could it be that you are just a boy who plays at being a man?"

  With a low growl, Dredger took two steps toward the man and then stopped.

  Geheimnis held out a long blade toward him, his mask suddenly expressionless. "Do you seek combat?"

  The warrior smiled bitterly. "I see that is what you want."

  With a rasping chuckle, the masked man lowered his sword. "You are mistaken, dear Dredger, quite mistaken. To do battle with you now would not suit my purpose." He paused, returning his weapon to its sheath. "I need you alive for a little while longer."

  Dredger didn't know whether to teach this faceless fool a lesson there and then, or to just laugh at his arrogance. Finally, he resolved to postpone their confrontation. He would be the one to choose the moment of combat.

  "Shall we travel on now?" Dredger asked aloud, mocking his companion with his manner. "Or do you wish to remain to dig holes in the sand?"

  Geheimnis nodded and bowed theatrically. "Let us be on our way then. And perhaps when we reach our goal, more than one score will be settled."

  Mo and the boys made their way along yet another meandering passageway. As they went, Tom had been deliberating on the problems that would face them somewhere deep within the caverns. But even after much thought he had no idea what they should do. If they were just going to trust to luck he had grave doubts about their success. No such thing as luck, Uncle Ira had often told him. Everything is in the balance, that much is true. But there is purpose in all things. No event is random.

  No, there was no point in crossing your fingers and hoping for the best. No such thing as luck, his mind informed him once again.

  After a little more consideration, he decided he would pray instead.