The Lord of Obsidian [Quest for Earthlight Trilogy Book 2] Page 22

  Merlin threw his hands in the air, clawing at it as though to bring down the very heavens. He shouted a few brief words to the sky. The sun instantly darkened. Day became night. And it seemed as though Merlin had indeed clawed the skies down to the earth. Between his outstretched hands, stars and planets spun in a whirl of fury—and Merlin stood beside Peter in the stable yard.

  Sujad the Great froze. Under the implacable force of Merlin's gaze the Lord of Obsidian slowly returned to normal size. Reluctantly he lowered his arm. The snarl that burst from him made Peter open his eyes. Peter took in Merlin's presence in one joyous second. He scrambled to his feet but had no time to say anything. Following the direction of Merlin's gaze, he saw a shadowy figure take shape within the Evil One's cloud. Then Merlin reached out and took his hand. Before he knew what was happening, Peter found himself hovering in the air. He was now staring over the flames towards the forest. His eyes sought the Evil One.

  A light sprang up in the middle of the forest. His blood ran cold. For he had seen this view before. The Obsidian Dagger appeared above the light like a cross. The light turned into a blue flame. The Obsidian Dagger rose slowly out of it. Then the wind caught the fire consuming the stables and barn. Flames and smoke momentarily blocked out Peter's view. Through the smoke he thought he saw the Evil One reach out a black-clad arm. Then the flame died down and the smoke dispersed. Peter saw the Evil One draw back his arm to hurl the dagger.

  But it wasn't at Peter he threw it. The Obsidian Dagger sped straight for Merlin. Peter shouted “No!” With all his strength he launched himself forward, blocking Merlin's body with his own.

  And so the Obsidian Dagger hurtled towards Peter just as it had in his vision.

  Chapter 19

  The Dagger Hits Home

  AS PETER braced himself for the dagger's impact, the clouds briefly parted. A stray sunbeam caught the dagger's blade. The light blinded everybody—even Sujad and the Evil One himself.

  Peter heard a great cry just as he felt the dagger strike his chest. But it seemed to come from many throats. He heard pain, frenzied rage and an overwhelming anguish that was almost palpable. As he fell down into agony-ridden darkness he was aware of gentle hands catching him—hands that conveyed their owner's grief to him. He felt himself being lowered slowly and lovingly to the ground more than six meters below. He tried to speak, to tell the owner of the hands that he was all right, but no words would come. Then merciful oblivion claimed him.

  Merlin looked up from Peter's ashen face. Through suddenly blurred vision he saw several figures running towards him. Only when the twins fell to their knees beside Peter did he realise that Sujad's spell had broken. He looked towards where he had last seen the Lord of Obsidian in his vile cloud. The cloud was no longer there. Instead, a black heap lay on the ground.

  It wasn't until Merlin saw a blue-robed figure appear by the black mound that he realised the bundle was Sujad. The Lord in Blue stooped and grabbed something. The fallen Lord of Obsidian raised a feeble hand in protest. But the Blue Lord dodged away. As he moved, Merlin saw with startling clarity that he had taken the little wax doll, and that the replica of the Obsidian Dagger no longer pierced it.

  As Merlin tried to work out the meaning of what he had seen, the Lord in Blue returned to Sujad's side. He was about to bend and grab something else when Merlin's stupefied mind burst back to life. Instant fury seized him. He lifted his right hand and shot a bolt of rainbow light at the blue figure. With a startled cry the Blue Lord retreated to his cloud, which went to join that of the Evil One. Master and servant hissed and gestured at each other within the safety of their clouds. The Evil One seemed furious with the Blue Lord, who appeared equally angry with his master.

  Merlin saw the black mound move slightly.

  "Merlin! Merlin!” Sujad's voice reached his ears in a desperate croak. “Please! Hurry!” It was the cry of a man in extremis.

  Merlin looked down at Peter and then across at Sujad. His mind told him to go to Sujad; his heart demanded he stay with Peter.

  Jamie looked up quickly. He instantly understood the situation. It's time for some of the burden of decision-making to be lifted from his shoulders, he thought with pity. “Go to him. We'll look after Peter."

  Merlin stumbled to his feet. He went to the crumpled black form, walking like an old man. He looked down at the defeated Lord of Obsidian. The first thing he saw was a pile of shattered obsidian. His eyes flew to the Obsidian Orb under one of Sujad's hands. It was undamaged. Then the truth hit him.

  The Obsidian Dagger changed its course when Peter threw himself into its path. In striking Sujad it also hit the replica in the wax doll and shattered it. Pieces of the replica recoiled and struck Peter.

  Even as Merlin grasped this, he received a further shock. For Sujad was trying to hold out the Obsidian Orb to him. At the same time, the fallen man strove to speak. Merlin dropped to his knees and bent over him. Sujad's face was twisted with pain and remorse. His voice was now only a whisper.

  "Merlin—old friend—can you ever forgive me?” The black eyes anxiously searched Merlin's. “Will you ... at least try? Take the orb—please.” Merlin gently lifted the Obsidian Orb from the enervated hand. “Will you ... do something for me—as soon as ... you can? Gather all the ... pieces of the Obsidian ... Dagger. Give them ... to those who ... would have been my ... descendants. Win your ... battle,” Sujad continued, gasping with pain. “And when you do ... will you also ... save me ... from...?” His eyes swiveled in the direction of the two black clouds and then back to Merlin's. Terror filled them. “My fate is ... terrible ... brought it on ... myself.” Sujad closed his eyes. His breathing was now shallow and fast. Pain and effort brought sweat to his brow. He opened his eyes again and clutched Merlin's sleeve with a feeble hand. “Must warn you ... the Blue Lord..."

  Sujad never finished his warning. A bolt of blue lightning blasted across the sky. It hit Sujad and he fell back. His sightless eyes stared up at Merlin. Gently—almost reverently—Merlin closed the lids over them. He then hurried to gather up all the pieces of the Obsidian Dagger. Holding them in his cupped hands, he whispered a brief spell over them. They disappeared. He stood up and looked down on Sujad's distorted features. He had no time to cover the dead face—only a brief moment to mourn the wasted life of the man for whom he had entertained such high hopes, for whom he had once felt great affection. Barely had he risen than pandemonium broke out behind him. The fire appliances had finally arrived. Like a man in a dream, Merlin turned away from the crumpled black form.

  He hardly heard the firemen's shouts, though some were directed at him. He seemed to be in severe shock. In reality, he was thinking hard.

  Bart had just managed to get the pump engine going again. His men now played the hose onto the fires. At the suggestion of a fireman, Bart's men returned to drenching the trees while the firemen tackled the flames.

  As Bart raced into the yard, Merlin suddenly came to life. Remorse flooded him at having momentarily forgotten Peter. Jamie and John still knelt by their friend, trying to revive him. Merlin and Bart reached the boy's side at the same time as a fireman with a first-aid kit. No one went to Sujad.

  "It's all right, we can deal with this. We know what to do,” Merlin told the fireman.

  The man scanned Merlin's face. Even though his eyes were wild with grief, the sorcerer retained his air of confidence and authority. The fireman handed him the kit and turned away. Merlin dropped to his knees at Peter's side.

  "He seems to be breathing all right, but we can't wake him up,” Jamie said in anguish as Merlin went to examine Peter. “He's not wounded,"

  "No—I didn't think he would be."

  Merlin placed the Obsidian Orb on Peter's chest and gently raised the boy's hands until they rested on top of it. Peter shuddered and slowly opened his eyes. His gaze moved dully from one to another of the four people anxiously bending over him. I'm alive! And I'm not even bleeding! He breathed a relieved sigh, and the pain in his chest cause
d his face to contort. He became aware of the Obsidian Orb only when he felt its power under his hands. The orb throbbed against his fingers and palms. Light suddenly pulsed from it. He felt it envelop him. Suddenly he was in the familiar sphere of light that was the Power of Obsidian. Exultation rushed over him. The Earthlight now has the orb! And that means....

  "You're free, Essence of Obsidian!"

  The light pulsed in at him, stronger than it had ever been. The Spirit of Obsidian seemed almost to be dancing with delight. Peter could hear the low throbbing sensation as strongly as he could feel it. The pain in his chest disappeared.

  "We've no time to waste, Peter,” the Essence of Obsidian's deep voice said, and it was no longer slow. “You must all fly to the forest—at once!"

  Abruptly the light went out and Peter found himself looking into Merlin's anxious dark eyes. Clasping the Obsidian Orb tightly against himself, Peter sat up. Merlin helped him to his feet.

  "The Power of Obsidian says we must fly to the forest!"

  The others wasted no time. They joined hands, with Merlin placing one of his on the Obsidian Orb clasped against Peter's chest. They rose as one into the air and soared over the fire towards the forest. No one saw them. The firemen went on fighting the fire as though nothing untoward was happening.

  As Peter soared over the treetops, his free hand enveloped in Bart's callused palm, his heart hammered with the strange mixture of hope and fear that was becoming almost second nature to him. This is it—the beginning of the Third Age of the Obsidian Orb, he told himself. His heart skipped a beat. Behind them he could hear the roar of the flames beginning to subside. The shouts of the firemen suddenly seemed louder and clearer. He could even hear the breeze in the trees below. Why did the sound of the wind in pines always remind him of the beach? Somehow the sighing effect was very much like the washing of waves on a calm shore.

  Suddenly the soughing of the wind was drowned by another noise. It sounded like the drumming of hooves. It faded briefly and he thought he heard the chilling cry of wolves calling the pack to the hunt. Then a rumble of thunder submerged all other sounds. Blue lightning sizzled all around them. Peter felt the force of the Evil One trying to push him back. When he looked up he saw the Evil One with three Lords of Corruption—two beside him and one in front. Their black clouds overlapped each other. They had taken possession of a hill on the edge and clear of the forest. Against the strength of the Powers of Darkness, the Earthlight quintet made slow progress towards the hill. It seemed to be getting very dark. Peter had never seen the sky so black. The Evil One can't stop the sun from rising, but he can easily put up obstacles to stop its light reaching the Earth.

  "Quite right, young Chosen One,” a voice rang out from the center of the black cloud above the hill. “These clouds are nothing compared to what I could block the sun with. A strategic nuclear blast would bring deep eternal winter to the whole world. Simply by taking possession of the right minds, I can achieve such a condition."

  "What would be the point in ruling a barren and unpopulated world?” Merlin growled.

  "True, true. But I came to bargain with you, Great One, not to threaten you with instant annihilation."

  "I'll have no truck with any of your bargains."

  "Wait till you hear what it is. I'll give you back Sujad Cariotis as he was before I claimed him—your trusted and most valued friend—if you'll hand over the Obsidian Orb."

  "That's no bargain! You offer to give me a one-time traitor who will then turn traitor a second time."

  Peter felt the Obsidian Orb tremble under his hand. Great waves of grief surged from it and pulsed through his body. The treachery of a loved and trusted friend is a greater bereavement than death. Oh, I wish I could lessen the grief for him!

  "You are about to do so,” Merlin's voice spoke calmly into his mind. “Hold up the Obsidian Orb."

  As he spoke, Merlin slowly took his hand away from the orb. He placed his fingertips on Peter's shoulder. Bart also dropped Peter's hand and touched his other shoulder. Peter extended the Obsidian Orb towards the Evil One, letting loose pandemonium upon the Enemy. The thundering of hooves swept right over them as horses burst out of the trees below. Each one carried a rider—a rider in white. And the horses were led by the smallest—a silvery-white pony. Peter recognized Argent and her rider in the same instant. Judita's hair streamed behind her like a black banner. The horses—hundreds; no, thousands of them—galloped in a never-ending stream.

  And behind them came a howling of wolves such as the world had never heard before. Leaving the ground to the horses, the wolves leapt from the forest and poured into the sky. The animal leading them stood out from the rest. Smaller than many of the wolves, Dreyfus howled louder than even the largest.

  The tide of horses, riders and wolves coursed towards the Evil One. The power of the Earthlight pulsed from all. Peter squinted against the brilliance. The Evil One and his Lords of Corruption gave one long scream of terror and fled. Their black clouds swirled madly around them. With the wolves snapping at their heels, they rushed across the sky. The horses crested the hill and soared into the air to join the wolves. The howls gradually diminished, and then ceased altogether.

  The five of the Earthlight found themselves back in the stable yard. The fire was out and the blackened ruins of the stable and barn gaped at them. The fire appliances had gone. Bart looked at the mess and groaned aloud.

  Merlin placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Your horses will return unharmed and your new barn and stables will be even better. I'll arrange shelter for the horses and make sure you don't lose by Sujad's actions. In the meantime—” He stopped short as he suddenly remembered Sujad's death at the hands of his master. “Sujad didn't belong to this century. There's no record of his birth or anything connected with him. That might pose problems. But I must see that he's decently—secretly—buried."

  Peter looked at him in dismay. Remembering how he had briefly experienced Merlin's grief, Peter knew that the only way he could allay the sorcerer's grief would be to help with this grisly undertaking.

  "How are we going to do that? For a start, the firemen will report the presence of a dead man to the police—"

  Merlin interrupted. “No they won't. They didn't see what happened. They don't know anyone was killed.” This took his mind back to when Sujad had called him over, and he suddenly realised he had left the traitor lying on the ground without even a handkerchief to cover his face. Horror out of all proportion to the omission of this courtesy seized Merlin. I should have given him a protective spell of some sort. I left him for the crows to peck out his eyes. He mentally shook himself as he realised there were no crows and this wasn't dark-age Britain.

  A sense of urgency rushed over him. He remembered the words of the dying Lord of Obsidian. “We must bury him right now."

  "Where?” Bart asked. “We can't use my land or the forest. It belongs to the Earthlight, and we wouldn't be allowed to use consecrated ground."

  "Well, help me get him into the car. We'll have to take him out after dark."

  "Okay."

  They turned to the black mound, and it was no longer there. Bart and the three boys were startled, but Peter sensed that their astonishment was nothing compared to the shock tingling through Merlin. Such was the sorcerer's state of mind that Peter clearly caught his thoughts. Another mistake. We're lucky to have won this battle. It won't be the last. But because of my incompetence the next one will be grimmer, and will be upon us again before we're prepared.

  The five of the Earthlight stood with bent heads, each thinking his own agonized thoughts. The rising wind blew unheeded around them, scattering wet ashes everywhere. Peter's mind was about to reach out to Merlin in clumsy comfort when he thought he heard a few notes of the Lady's music. His head went up like that of a startled colt. The others raised theirs more slowly.

  Suddenly the Lady stood on the spot from which Sujad's body had vanished. Underneath her blue cloak she was robed in white simi
lar to the Reborn and Dreyfus was at her side. She smiled at them.

  "Well done,” she said softly. She looked at Merlin with grave sympathy. “Don't condemn yourself, Great One. You will realise later that you didn't have enough spare power to stop the Evil One claiming the remains of the Lord of Obsidian. What power you had was needed by the Reborn. When their task is done they'll return the horses and Dreyfus. I must go now to replace the statue in the grotto.” She smiled at each in turn. Her gaze rested lastly on Peter and stayed a moment longer. “Farewell.” Her voice on the parting word was like the sighing of the wind and her departure that of a ghost. But her music soared over the forest, becoming louder and clearer than Peter had ever heard it. He held out the Obsidian Orb to try holding onto the melody, but it gradually faded to nothing.

  Jamie broke the silence. “It's like—like a choir of angels singing softly without words to an accompaniment of little bells."

  Much to the boys’ surprise, a deep chuckle came from Merlin. “Very good, Jamie. Gray was more succinct and poetic, if not quite as explicit. But then he wasn't a musician. ´A cherubim in a box’ was his description."

  They all gaped at him.

  "Thomas Gray, eighteenth-century English poet,” Merlin explained patiently.

  As the boys continued staring, all wondering what connection an English poet could possibly have with the Lady, he chuckled at their open-mouthed puzzlement.

  "Get educated,” he suggested with playful mockery. A mischievous glint entered his eyes as he threw back his head and, adopting an exaggerated pose, began quoting:

  "The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,

  The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,

  The plowman homeward plods his weary way,