Dawn broke and magic filled the air. Deep in the heart of England, strange things stirred.
The first sunbeam darted through a stand of ancient forest and lit the trunk of a centuries-old oak. For one shining second the features of a face appeared in the bark. Green eyes flashed as the sunbeam passed and the features faded.
Deeper in the forest, a wild boar yawned. The sunbeam glanced off wicked teeth and tusks. The mouth closed. The beam moved on and the boar melted once more into shadowland.
The second sunbeam slid across the downs and kissed a conical green mound that swelled up, apart from the other hills. Only the lark that rose from its nest on the summit heard the greeting from the ancient king beneath. The lark wove the greeting into its song to welcome the sun.
The third sunbeam shot its magical light into a valley. There towered a Stone Circle, great gray stones veiled in morning mist. The golden beam lit the dew-covered grass. The dew became a carpet of flashing diamonds. The dancing light pierced the mist veil and caught a night-prowling wraith, forever struggling to enter the Circle. The wraith fought the light, seeking shelter in the shadows between the stones. The light triumphed. Veils of mist swirled, and the figure dissolved.
The tide of light flooded and washed each Sarsen Stone. The stones were ready. As gray became gold, the largest stone spun on its axis, then stood sentinel as before.
The magic happened quickly, without a witness. That was to change. Four ordinary children were about to be called to the Circle.
* * *
The Wise Ones watched the Earthdawn from their place among the stars.
As the first stone stirred, Ava’s cry of happiness shivered the sky.
“The stone has turned! My magic is ripening at last. It’s time to call the children.” Ava stretched her wings “Myrddin, Equus, join me. Send blessings down to Gaia. Old Magic stirs with each new dawn, but the Dark Magic also grows. Help give the human children strength to resist one while embracing the other.”
“Light and Dark, Dark and Light,” rumbled Myrddin.“Children, may you learn that one will always bring the other on its coattails.” He spread his arms and shook out his cloak of hidden colors. A shower of stardust sparkled and fell on the blue planet below.
“Light and Dark, Dark and Light,” murmured Equus. He shook his mane and stamped his hoof. A fiery star streaked the dawn-washed sky. “Children, may you seek strength from the light and be unafraid of the dark.”
“Light and Dark, Dark and Light,” whispered Ava. She spread her magnificent wings and her hawk-like beauty shone unchecked, dimming the stars of the Milky Way. “Children, the time is near. The light calls as the darkness gathers. May its circle always protect you.”
Ava soared upwards and spun a rainbow that circled the setting moon.
* * *
The four children were sleeping.
The golden finger of dawn sneaked through a gap in the curtain and touched one child’s face. Owen Maxwell woke instantly. He swung carefully out of his upper bunk to avoid disturbing his Canadian cousin Adam in the bunk below. He padded across the floorboards and pulled aside the curtain. “Weird light,” he muttered as he hung out of the open window to see better.
The rising sun blazed from the horizon on one side of White Horse Farm, and the setting moon gleamed on the other. A brief shower blew over the ground, releasing earthy aromas, and suddenly the moon was framed by a rainbow. High above hung the bright morning star.
A shiver went up Owen’s spine.
“Is this it?” he called softly. “Wise Ones, is this the star message you promised to send us? Is it time for our next adventure?”
The cry of a hawk was the only answer.
Owen squinted up into the light.
The hawk circled below the morning star. The circles became wider and wider as she dipped closer to the earth. As the hawk banked one way she was bathed in gold; as she banked the other way she was washed with silver.
“Awesome,” breathed Owen. He held his breath.
The hawk folded her wings and plummeted like a stone toward the pasture.
Owen gasped.
In the same second the sun leaped into the sky. The banished moon fell below the horizon and the morning star faded.
Only the hawk remained, hurtling toward the ground. Within centimeters of the earth she unleashed her talons and spread her wings. Wingtips brushed grass. Razor-sharp claws stretched and grabbed. The hawk swooped up with the tawny body of a weasel hanging in her deadly grip. She flapped heavily toward the nearest patch of woodland and disappeared with her prey.
Light and Dark, Dark and Light. The light grows but dark things waken. Ava’s words were transferred thoughts, but they filled Owen’s head as loudly and clearly as true speech. The stones have stirred. Tell the others. The time is near for the Circle Dance.
* * *
“Adam . . . Adam . . . WAKE UP,” Owen hissed in his cousin’s ear. He shook Adam’s shoulder.
Adam squinted at the dawn light, pulled a face and tried to burrow under his pillow. “Too early.”
“Adam, it’s happening. Ava spoke to me.”
Adam’s eyes shot open. “YOU heard from the Wise Ones?”
Owen nodded, his eyes dancing.
Adam rolled out of bed. He stood in the middle of the room, rumpled and annoyed. “Why you? What did they say?”
“I’m getting the girls. I’ll be back.” Owen lifted the catch on the bedroom door and disappeared down the corridor.
Adam ran to the window and stared up at the sky. Everything seemed normal. His eyes scanned the hills beyond White Horse Farm. In Canada, where he and Chantel lived, they would have been called hills, but his English cousins called them the downs. Carved into the downs was the gigantic figure of a white horse. It had been cut through the grass to the white chalk beneath over three thousand years ago. The carving had started their adventures.
Chantel’s and my adventure, thought Adam resentfully. If he and Chantel hadn’t come to visit from Canada, none of it would have happened. He hunched his shoulders. Why were the Wise Ones talking to Owen? It was Adam they should be talking to. They talked to Chantel last time; now it was his turn. Adam gazed up at the chalk carving.
The chalk horse had become Equus, a wise being from the stars. Equus had spoken to Chantel in her dreams. When Chantel had ended up in hospital with a broken leg, she had directed Adam and her two English cousins in helping Equus search for his mate, the Red Mare. They also recovered his magical talisman. By the end of the adventure, all four cousins had met the Wise Ones and promised to help them recover other magical tools.
Adam remembered the exhilaration of the wild ride through the stars when Equus and the Red Mare had taken all four cousins to the Place Beyond Morning. He remembered his awe at meeting two other Wise Ones, Myrddin, a cloaked man, and Ava, a beautiful being who seemed to be half-woman, half-bird.
Adam trembled as a wave of fear washed over him. Part of the adventure had been terrifying. A terrible dragon had tried to control his mind and make him do dreadful things. Maybe this adventure would be scary too. Maybe they shouldn’t get involved. He turned nervously as the bedroom door opened.
* * *
Chantel, his seven-year-old sister, hopped in, her leg held up so her cast wouldn’t bang on the floor. “Did you speak to the Wise Ones?” she whispered.
“No,” said Adam. He pulled out the chair from Owen’s desk so she could sit down and rest her leg. “They spoke to Owen.”
The door opened again and Owen and his eleven-year-old sister Holly joined them.
“What’s up?” Holly hissed.
Owen grinned. “We’ve had a message from the Wise Ones.”
“About time,” said Holly. “I was fed up with waiting. What happened?”
“The light woke me. It was really weird,” said Owen. “So I hung out of the window to see better. The sun and moon were shining at the same time, and there was a rainbow around the moon and this big star, the morning star I think, between them. Then I spotted a hawk. It circled around in the light, turning silver on one side and gold on the other. It dived toward the earth. I thought it was going to crash, but it caught a weasel . . . ”
“Ugh!” Chantel shuddered.
Owen ignored her. “ . . . and flapped off to the woods. Then Ava spoke.” Owen’s voice deepened as he repeated Ava’s words. ‘Light and Dark, Dark and Light. The light grows but dark things stir. The stones have stirred. Tell the others. The time is near for the Circle Dance.’ He paused. “At least I think I heard her voice . . . only it wasn’t a real voice. It was in my head.”
Chantel nodded excitedly. “That’s how the Wise Ones speak. It’s in your head but as clear as clear.” She thought for a moment. “I think they only spoke out loud when we were in the Place Beyond Morning.”
Holly agreed.
“Yup, and know what’s neat? You can think your answers back. You don’t have to speak out loud.” Chantel raised her eyebrows at her cousin. “Didn’t you do that last time?”
Owen shook his head. “It was you two and Holly who had most of the adventures.” He grinned. “I guess it’s my turn now.”
Adam shifted.
‘The stones have stirred. The time is near for the Circle Dance,’ quoted Holly. “What’s that? What do we have to do?”
Owen shrugged. “Dunno. That’s all Ava said.”
Chantel hopped up from the chair and held out her hands. “They can speak to us best when we are asleep, but sometimes they spoke if we helped by making a circle. Let’s try. I hope Equus will come. I miss riding on him. He hasn’t visited my dreams for ages.”
“None of them have,” Adam grumbled as he grasped his sister’s hand and offered his other to Owen. “I’ve hated waiting.”
“Me too,” said Holly. “But I sometimes wonder if it really happened.”
The other children nodded.
“Well it did happen,” said Owen firmly. “Now it’s going to happen again. Are you in or out?” He held out his hand toward his older sister.
Holly laughed. “Don’t be an idiot. In, of course.” She grasped Chantel’s and Owen’s hands and completed the circle. “Okay, now what?”
A soft knock sounded and the bedroom door creaked open.
Four startled faces turned.
A head appeared. “Good, you’re awake.”
The children let out their breath.
“Mum, you scared us,” said Holly.
“Sorry.” Lynne Maxwell looked curiously at the circle.
The cousins hastily dropped hands.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt your game.” Lynne smiled. “I was coming to wake you. Hurry up and dress. We’ve an early start this morning. We’re going on a trip.”
Shock rippled over the children’s faces.
“We . . . we are?” stammered Adam.
Lynne pushed the door wide open, carried in four backpacks and dropped them by the bunks. “Your Uncle Ron got a call late last night. A stud farm in Wiltshire needs his advice for a few days. It’s a lovely part of the country and our entire family, including Adam and Chantel, is invited down to stay.”
“But we can’t leave here,” blurted Owen.
His mother’s smile faded. “I thought you’d be pleased.” She looked puzzled. “You’ve been moping around like lost dogs for the last few days. I thought you’d jump at the chance to go somewhere else.”
Holly spread her hands. “We’ve made plans, Mum.”
“So’ve we,” her mother snapped back. “Sorry we couldn’t consult you, but it happened too fast. Most people would give their eyeteeth to spend a week at Avebury.”
“A week,” gasped Owen. “Seven whole days . . . you’re kidding?”
“Where’s Avebury?” whispered Chantel to Adam.
Adam shrugged then looked across at his Auntie Lynne. “What if Mom or Dad phone?” he said.
Chantel froze.
Aunt Lynne gazed steadily back at her nephew and niece while Holly and Owen dropped their eyes. Everyone knew that Adam and Chantel’s parents wouldn’t phone. They were too busy fighting about their divorce. That’s why they had shipped Adam and Chantel to England in the first place.
“We will let your mum and dad know where we are and leave a forwarding number on the answering machine in case they forget,” said Lynne gently. She put out her hand to pat Adam’s shoulder, but he jerked away.
“Avebury?” said Holly after a moment of silence. “My teacher’s mentioned Avebury.”
“I should think so,” said her mother briskly. “It’s one of the most important prehistoric sites in England. That’s why your dad and I thought you would like to see it. Avebury is much older than the White Horse carving you’ve all found so fascinating. Five thousand years old, I think.”
Owen wasn’t listening. He felt as though he would burst with frustration. Just as something magical was about to happen to him, his mother and father made stupid plans. “Mum, can’t you and Dad go on your own?” he burst out. “We can stay here. Mr. and Mrs. O’Reilly will look after us. You’ve done it before.”
“Yeah, we don’t mind staying. We like spending the summer in Uffington Village,” Adam said, jumping in to support his cousin.
Chantel slipped her hand into her aunt’s palm. “Do we have to go?” she asked softly.
Lynne looked down at Chantel and across at the other children. “Why can I never second-guess you kids?” She scratched her ear. “Is there something going on that I should know about?”
The children shuffled uneasily but shook their heads.
Lynne shrugged. “Sorry, I thought you’d enjoy it, so we’ve already accepted the invitation. It would be rude to change our minds now.” She pointed to the backpacks. “Pack enough clothes for seven days. Oh, Holly, find three bike helmets. Dad’s strapping bikes on the back of the car since you won’t be able to ride around on the ponies like you do here.” She smiled down at Chantel. “We’ll figure out something else for you, Poppet.”
Chantel sighed and withdrew her hand.
“Breakfast in fifteen minutes,” said Lynne brightly and left.
* * *
Owen kicked the chair. “I can’t believe Mum and Dad organized that without asking us. How could they? How can we leave when something magic’s about to happen?” He looked across at Chantel. “What if you break your other leg? That would fix it.”
“Break your own leg,” Chantel retorted.
“I’ll push you down the stairs if you like,” offered Adam.
“You and whose army?” Owen hunkered down into a sumo wrestler stance and beckoned. “Come on. Come on. Try it. Try it!”
“Give over, you two,” Holly muttered. “Stop being ten-year-old brats. I’m trying to think.”
“Huh. Being eleven means you’re not a brat, does it?”
“Oh, do shut up, Owen, I’m trying to remember. Avebury . . . what do I know about Avebury?”
“Who cares?” said Owen. “It’s a stupid name for a stupid place.” He swung up on his bunk. “I’m on strike. I’m not going anywhere.” He disappeared under his duvet.
Chantel giggled.
Holly picked up two backpacks. “He’s crazy. Come on, Chantel, let’s get out of here,” she said and led the way back to her room.
Adam eyed the mound that was Owen. He wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted to support his cousin, but didn’t want to anger his aunt and uncle. “Are you really on strike?” he asked.
The mound heaved and Owen stuck out his head. “Fat chance.” He grinned. “I’ve got a better idea. ‘Don’t get mad, get even!’ Let’s make them so sorry they’ve taken us away, we’ll be brought home faster than a speeding bullet.”
“You mean Operation Irritation?” Adam laughed. “I’m good at that.”
Owen jumped off the bunk with a thud and ran over to the laundry hamper.
“What are you doing?” Adam asked as dirty laundry flew through the air.
“Packing,” retorted Owen. “First find smelly socks, preferably odd ones. Dad won’t notice, but it gets Mum really choked.”
* * *
Dawn Magic coursed through the stones, growing stronger as the day progressed.
Outwardly still gray monoliths, inwardly the stones were stirring. First a spreading warmth at their centers.
Then a flutter as light as the beat of a butterfly wing. The flutter became a pulse. The magic coursed faster and the stones shimmered with energy. Deep inside each one, a heart began to beat.
* * *
The journey in the station wagon was tense.
Uncle Ron and Aunt Lynne kept up a stream of cheerful chatter. The four cousins slumped in their seats and answered in monosyllables.
Finally, Uncle Ron pulled to the side of the road and switched off the engine. He swung around and glared.
“That’s it, you four! Now, what’s up?”
The children dropped their eyes.
“Look at me,” he roared.
Four sets of eyes widened and flicked upward.
“We are going to Avebury. We are going for a week. I’m working there. Mope if you like, but I expect politeness to me, your mum and our hosts, the Prendergasts. Understood?”
Four heads nodded.
Ron Maxwell fixed a steely eye on the two girls hunched in the back seat. “Holly and Chantel, stop the ‘go slow’! Chantel has been whizzing around, despite the cast on her leg, until this morning.”
Chantel flushed and Holly bit her lip.
Ron turned his attention to the middle seat. “Owen, spare me your idea of humor. If you wish to wear the odoriferous clothing you’ve stuffed in your backpack, that’s your choice. But stay outside and don’t inflict yourself on anyone else. Rain or shine, you eat all your meals on the back step until you find a washing machine.”
Adam gave a snort of laughter that he changed into a cough as his uncle frowned.
“Turn off your watch alarm, Adam. I will not be subjected to bleeps every five minutes. Or, of course, you can hand it over.”
Adam frantically started reprogramming.
“And the next person who sings ‘Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall’ will get out and walk,” Lynne interjected.
The kids smothered grins.
Lynne pushed the hair out of her eyes and sighed. “I don’t get it. Why are you all so angry? We thought you would enjoy seeing the Stone Circle at Avebury.”
There was a sharp intake of breath. “What? Where are you and Dad taking us?” Owen asked.
“The Avebury Stone Circle . . . you must have heard of it?”
Holly leaned forward and poked Owen. “That’s it! I remember,” she said urgently. “Avebury’s a Stone Circle that’s older than Stonehenge.” She took a breath. “And guess what? The old name for a circle of stones is a dance!”
The cousins exchanged looks.
“A circle,” said Owen. He leaned forward and hung over the front seat between his parents. His voice wobbled. “You and Dad are taking us to . . . to see a Stone Circle?”
Lynne nodded. “We are going to stay at Manor Cottage, right in the middle of the Circle.”
“How soon before we get there?” said Owen.
Holly, Adam and Chantel leaned back in their seats and laughed until tears poured down their cheeks.
“I give up.” Lynne threw up her hands. “Ron, ignore them. Just drive to Avebury.”