The Lord of Obsidian [Quest for Earthlight Trilogy Book 2] Page 7
"I know. We have no need to.” Peter tried to look calm but his heart was thumping and his mouth was so dry he had to force himself not to betray his fear by swallowing.
The Lord of Corruption's next words seemed so irrelevant they made him stare in open-mouthed amazement. “You know your aunt is suffering from mental illness."
Peter swiftly gathered his scattered wits.
"She had a nervous breakdown,” he snapped.
"Ah well! If that's what you want to call it...” the Lord in Blue said, shrugging dismissively. “You know my master and his Council of Lords are responsible for her state. What you probably don't realise, however, is that we can restore her to normal health any time we choose. If you'll give me the Obsidian Dagger and cease this foolish quest for Earthlight, we'll return her to you right now."
"She's already getting better. She's gone abroad for a recuperating holiday."
"Where she is very vulnerable without the presence of someone of the Earthlight. If you want to see your aunt again..."
Peter sat thinking for a long time, unaware of the dignity of his bearing—of the glint of respect it brought to the cold eyes hidden deep in the blue hood. He was too busy sending out a frantic mind message. “Merlin? Earthlight? Can anyone hear me? I need help. I'm beset by one of the Lords of Corruption."
His heart skipped a beat when he was sure he heard, faint and faraway, a few bars of the Lady's music. He strove to keep his face as expressionless as possible. While every fiber of his being longed to look around for the source of the sound, he forced his gaze to stay on his enemy.
Then the Lady spoke into his mind, her voice so faint he had to strain to hear. “Let the Evil One have the dagger. It can no longer harm us. It is useless to the Enemy."
The bars of the Lady's music repeated themselves. Then silence. She was gone. He had been given no time to speak to her again. But even as he pushed his regret aside, Peter realised it was better that way; his enemy might have heard.
He fingered the dagger sheathed at his side. “Very well. Your master may have the dagger if he returns my aunt to normal health."
"It's a deal,” the Lord replied—rather too quickly, Peter thought in surprise.
He unsheathed the Obsidian Dagger. Reluctant to give it up, he looked down at its gleaming surface. Absently he stroked its highly polished planes. A stray shaft of light caught the blade, sending the beam straight into Peter's eyes. As Peter moved the dagger the shaft was deflected downward to touch Dreyfus's face. Peter's ears started ringing and the forest began spinning, with the Obsidian Dagger at its heart. Panic seized him.
The Lord in Blue has placed a spell on me. He'll seize the dagger and do what Sujad the Traitor failed to do on Christmas Eve! There's no one here to deflect his aim—and no Lady to heal the resulting hurt.
He blinked as he realised the world had stopped spinning and he was looking down on the forest, spread below like a dark green sculpted carpet. He scanned the horizon. What on earth am I looking for? What am I doing up here, leaving Dreyfus and Argent to the mercy of a Lord of Corruption?
There was a flash of light in the distance. Peter saw what looked like the Obsidian Dagger hovering over the light source like a cross. The light leapt, enveloping the dagger, and Peter realised it was a flame. Briefly it burned with a blue light. Then it spread rapidly and thick smoke blotted out the forest before he could see the fire's origins. He heard a rushing sound, growing steadily louder. A moment later he saw the Obsidian Dagger speeding towards him, its blade pointing straight at him. His heart seemed to stop.
The Lord of Corruption has taken the dagger! He's going to kill me with it!
Then smoke enveloped the dagger. The smoke in its turn was swept away by the wind. The dagger had vanished. Peter could see the flames again. But surely they were different? Or was it something else that was different?
Moments later he saw it was the trees that were different. Instead of the dark green of pines, he was now looking at the softer, brighter green of deciduous trees—mostly oak. It was still a forest but even as he looked, smoke—or was it mist?—drifted over the scene. When it cleared he was looking at bare trees. There was still no sign of either the Obsidian Dagger or the fire. Mist curled and eddied in thick drifts and layers. Then it began snowing. A high wind whistled its way over the forest to the far horizon, scattering the snowflakes.
Peter's hair stood on end as the whistling wind changed to a bloodcurdling cry. The cry was taken up by other voices. Shapes moved in the distance along the forest floor. Peter steadily descended. He strove to rise again as he saw more dark shapes, this time right below.
But he couldn't stop his descent. He landed in a rustle of half-rotted leaves. However, he couldn't see much. It was getting dark. Eyes straining in the gathering gloom, heart pounding, he looked around. Nothing moved. But the bloodcurdling cries came again. Surely they couldn't be ... wolves?
Then something moved in the shadows to his right. Almost sobbing with terror, he whirled to face it. Three pairs of red eyes glared at him. Three sets of enormous fangs showed white against the dark background of the sloping forest floor.
"Cerberus!"
And suddenly behind Cerberus hundreds of pairs of pale greenish eyes shone. They stretched right up the slope behind the three-headed dog. A phrase came unbidden to Peter's mind: the horde of menacing eyes. Now where had that come from?
The three-headed dog moved forward—then it slowly dissolved into a patch of mist. The horde of eyes in its wake went out as though someone had thrown a switch.
At the same time a familiar voice spoke into Peter's mind. “As the Lady said, give the dagger to the Evil One, not to Sujad the Great or to his Lord of Corruption.” The voice was deep and slow.
"Essence of Obsidian!” Peter cried in delight, and discovered that he was crouched in the globe that held the Power of Obsidian, and the pulsing light was beating down on him. “Why should I give it up at all?"
"What did the Lady tell you when you invoked her help just now? She said the dagger can no longer harm us and that it is useless to the Enemy. But it will be useful to the Earthlight to have it in the hands of the Evil One. While you hold it and are still growing in power it is vulnerable to being stolen by one of the Lords of Corruption, because they know that Sujad the Great is afraid of it and they might wish to use it to usurp his power. Sujad himself would like it safe in his keeping despite his fear of it, but it could be stolen from him. The Evil One's servants, however, would never be able to take it from their master."
"Oh!” Then after a moment's thought, “Wouldn't it be best to destroy it if the Earthlight can't use it?"
"The Earthlight cannot destroy it,” the Power of Obsidian replied patiently. “I, the Omniscient All-seeing Eye of the Obsidian Orb—the Quintessential Nucleus of All Sorcery—will not permit it."
"Why not? It doesn't make sense to allow it to remain in existence."
"The Obsidian Dagger is part of the Power of Obsidian. I am the Power of Obsidian, Peter. The Earthlight has consulted me on the matter of the Obsidian Dagger and my advice is that it should go straight to the Evil One."
"Oh! I see.” This time Peter felt that he had been reproved—if very gently—by the Essence of Obsidian. “How do I by-pass the Lord in Blue and give it to the Evil One?"
Peter felt the light of the Power of Obsidian touch his brain with its strange soft caress. It was as though the Essence of Obsidian was apologizing to him for the unspoken reproof.
"Just tell the Lord in Blue to come and get it and throw the dagger into the air as high as you can. Don't let his evil cloud touch you or the pony. Its substance is not pleasant. Now I must go. Farewell, Peter."
"Wait! Wait!” Peter cried as questions crowded his mind.
"What is it?” The Essence of Obsidian's light pulsed agitatedly.
"How come I'm inside you when I'm not reading the Book of Obsidian?"
"Ah!” Peter expected another reproof but to his surprise the Es
sence of Obsidian chuckled. “Remember, I am more than just a book, Peter.” And the pulsing light vanished.
Peter found himself still sitting astride his pony, contemplating the Obsidian Dagger in the palm of his hand.
The Lord of Corruption shifted restlessly in his black cloud. “Well? Will you give it to me or do I have to come and take it?"
Peter looked at him with deliberate coldness. “Come and get it."
The Lord of Corruption surged forward in his evil black cloud. Peter caught a glimpse of the bright shimmer of the blue robe. Then he drew back his hand and tossed the dagger as high into the air as he could, aiming slightly at the Blue Lord to prevent the evil cloud touching Argent and panicking her.
The dagger sailed high—far higher than Peter knew he was capable of throwing it. Stray shafts of light filtering through the treetops winked off its surface as it turned and twisted. The Lord of Corruption gave a harsh cry of fury. His cloud swirled towards the soaring dagger. A blue-clad arm reached from the cloud to grab the weapon. But just as the Blue Lord was about to close his hand over the dagger's hilt the air turned dark. It was as though someone had plucked the sun from the sky. The Obsidian Dagger vanished.
The Lord's shriek of frustration and rage wreaked further damage on his voice. “Cheat! Liar and thief! What have you done with it?"
"Your master, the Evil One, has taken it. You'll probably recognize his presence better when you've served him longer. We agreed only a few moments ago that he could have it in exchange for my aunt's return to full health."
The Lord in Blue nearly choked so great was his wrath. “You cheat! You vile hypocrite! You knew very well I meant you to give it to me!"
"I preferred to give it straight into the hands of the Evil One himself. I see from your reaction that I was right. You had no intention of giving it to him.” His voice turned icy with that controlled anger that was so much older than his years. “Now who's the vile hypocrite and cheat? Get out of this forest. It belongs to the Earthlight.” As the Lord in Blue gathered his cloud about him again, Peter added with deliberate adult spite, “I wish you joy of your master's temper now that he knows you've deceived him."
The Lord of Corruption gave a snort of derision and vanished. Peter was left pondering his own words. “´Get out of this forest. It belongs to the Earthlight.’ What on earth made me say that, Argent? The forest belongs to your master, Bart and Susan Brown—doesn't it?"
Argent's ears twitched and she turned her head to look at him. Peter gently slapped her side, laughing ruefully. “You're just as glad to see the back of the Lord in Blue as I am, old girl. Now let's get on with our ride.” He looked around for Dreyfus, but there was no sign of him. “Dreyfus! Dreyfus! Here, boy!"
There was no answer.
"Oh, no! That's all we need, Argent. We don't even know what direction he took."
Now when did he last see Dreyfus? Was the dog with him when he came down in that forest and saw Cerberus and the horde of menacing eyes? And where on earth did that phrase come from?
He closed his eyes and concentrated. From the depths of his subconscious a voice that he would never forget spoke words he didn't even know he had heard before.
"The shepherd guards by night and day,
His old antagonist to drive away.
Only the shepherd can put to flight
The three-headed one of colossal might.
But the horde of menacing eyes must cower
before he reaches his height of power."
That was one of the lessons I learned from the Book of Obsidian. At the time I didn't understand it. The shepherd is obviously not a man but Dreyfus. Then the full force of the prophecy hit him like a hammer blow. Oh no! Don't tell me Dreyfus was with me in that forest and got left behind! How am I supposed to go back there and get him? I don't know where the forest is—although it must be somewhere in England—and I can only guess what century we might have been in. It was the Power of Obsidian working through the Obsidian Dagger that took me there in the first place, but I don't have the Obsidian Dagger any more and I don't know what Merlin did with the Book of Obsidian.
Unconsciously Peter's hand had strayed to his neck and fingered the silver chain on which hung his Token of Power. He dismounted and tethered Argent to the nearest branch.
"Sorry there's not a lot of grazing for you, old girl.” He took an apple from his lunch pack and put it on the ground. “Here, you can have this."
Argent lowered her head and nibbled at the apple. This was the last thing Peter saw as he drew the Token of Power from under his shirt. He looked at the red dragon set into the medallion like a crystalline jewel and gently touched the ruby eyes. “You've got to aid me again, dragon—help me find Dreyfus. Without both Merlin and Dreyfus I'm in danger until I reach full power."
The jeweled eye winked at him. But maybe it was just a trick of the light. Then, without warning, Peter's vision was obscured by a pinkish mist. It flowed over and past him until it enveloped even the pony.
Argent looked up—and found herself almost nose-to-nose with an enormous, red scaly creature. It had its mouth slightly open and through the pink mist issuing from this enormous cavern and its huge nostrils she saw two rows of horrendously sharp teeth. With the gentle breath of the dragon all around her, however, all she did was reach up and touch her nose to the dragon's before going back to the delights of the apple.
"Get up while she's still in a trance,” the dragon said softly.
Peter, remembering his last dragon-ride, put his hands to the scaly side and was instantly astride the dragon's back. Moments later they were airborne, with the dark-green forest spread below.
Peter turned his gaze back to the far horizon, and suddenly he was looking at a foreign scene. There was a forest, but it was a bare deciduous one. The dragon was flying quite low now, although Peter couldn't remember it descending. Smoke curled lazily into the air from chimneys that Peter couldn't yet see.
Then suddenly he knew where they were. Directly ahead was the castle where the witch Morgause lived.
"Is Dreyfus here, dragon? Has Morgause got him?"
"I don't know, but she is the key to finding him. Now I'll take you to her apartments. Then I must leave you."
Peter found himself standing near a huge fire in a dim room. The walls were hung with rich tapestries. There was a luxurious carpet of animal skins under his feet. He had no time to notice anything else, for there was someone already in the room. On the other side of the fire a shadow stirred. A figure clothed in the bright green of spring rose from the couch where she had been reclining ... and Peter was looking straight into the face of Morgause.
The green eyes glittered in the delicate ivory face. “Ah! It's the youngling himself; the Chosen One.” She looked at him critically and shook her head. The firelight caught her hair, turning it to shimmering gold. “I don't understand why the Earthlight chose you. The boy Jamie now—he looks and sings like an angel. He would have been a much more appropriate choice."
Peter flushed despite himself. But her taunts, he decided, were more endurable than her fawning and petting.
"I want my dog. You have no right to take Dreyfus. He belongs to the Earthlight.” In spite of himself his voice was heated.
Her smile was pure malice. “Why should I want your dog? Whatever would I want a dog for—especially one belonging to the Earthlight?” Her eyes appraised him coolly. “However, I now have something even better than your dog. I have you yourself, the Chosen One of the Earthlight."
She stepped forward and raised her hand, pointing at something over his shoulder. Peter heard the grinding of bolts on the door behind him.
"Don't bother to call your dragon, young greenhorn. He's gone. I've locked him out. By magic,” she added as Peter whirled to face the door.
He snatched at the chain around his neck, dragged out the medallion and gazed at it in disbelief. It was unadorned. The dragon was gone. The Token of Power was nothing but a blank silver disc.
Nightmare Journey
MORGAUSE'S silvery laugh rippled out at the expression on Peter's face as he frantically rubbed at the polished silver disc.
"You're worse than Merlin. You find it impossible to believe I have the power to influence anything that belongs to or is connected with the Earthlight. According to Merlin I squander my potential on what he calls personal beautification. He's totally unable—or unwilling—to recognize that my power is every bit as potent as his, probably more so."
Peter thrust the Token of Power back under his shirt away from the taint of her gaze. “You'll find he's right when it's too late."
Morgause's eyes glinted. “Is that what he tells you?"
"No. It's what I'm telling you."
Slowly she crossed in front of the fire until she stood less than a meter from him. Oh great! Now he'd made her angry. What on earth made him say that anyway? There was no point crossing someone as evil as she was. Heaven knew what she might do if she considered him impertinent. Heart thumping, Peter forced himself not to retreat, and to return the gaze of her fierce green eyes with what he hoped was matching intensity. It took every ounce of determination he possessed not to lower his eyelids. When the ferocity in the green eyes turned to reluctant respect he couldn't have been more surprised if she'd suddenly turned into a tigress in front of him. She lifted her right hand and gently touched him under the chin. Caught unawares, he stepped back. She laughed softly again and the green eyes swept him from head to foot and back again.
"I don't bite,” she said evenly, showing her teeth in an almost contradictory smile. She looked him up and down again. “You know, I think maybe you're made of sterner stuff than you look. That's perhaps rather a two-edged compliment, but it was meant to be a compliment."
"And the Token of Power is a two-edged sword.” Again Peter was puzzled at his own words.
He had the satisfaction of seeing her look discomfited. She quickly recovered and laughed with unveiled scorn. “It isn't even a single-edged sword without its dragon, Peter. Remember—I have locked him out."