They woke in gloom. It felt like morning, but there was no sun, just an unnatural murk, a suggestion of light which came from nowhere in particular, but by which the children could just see one another. Though they called Darach, they got no answer and decided he must have gone out.
"We'd better stay here until he gets back," said Graham.
"Why?" said Colin. "I'm sure it's morning. There's a sort of light outside.
They stumbled to the door. The eerie gloom was outside too. What a difference from the summery beauty of the day before. Now the trees seemed unreal in the murk. There were no birds singing, but from time to time they heard blind scurryings and frightened encounters in the undergrowth. The forest-animals, like them, had woken instinctively at dawn, only to find there was no dawn.
"Which way is East?" Colin asked.
"That way," Graham pointed through the trees.
"Are you sure?"
"No. But that's where this queer light is coming from."
Graham was right. The grey illumination was filtering through the trees in the direction in which he had pointed.
"Come on then," said Colin. "Let's go and see."
The path would have been difficult enough to follow in the day, but in the gloom it was virtually impossible even though their eyes were gradually becoming more used to it. They stumbled over logs, and wandered away from each other, while all the time the forest-animals made strange noises in the darkness.
"I think we're going round in circles," said Gwen, after a few minutes. "No, we can't be, we've kept the light ahead of us all the time," said Colin. "Look! The trees are thinning out in a few yards. We're coming to the edge of the forest, we must be."
Whatever they had been expecting to see when they got to the other side, the sight that met their eyes was even more awesome.
Before them was spread the landscape of fields, forested hills, rivers, roads and so on, stretching to a distant horizon. And then, at the edge of the visible world, beyond the mountains, where the sun should have been rising, there towered in the sky a cloud so vast and dense that the sun could not penetrate it. The cloud had not totally arrested the sunlight, however, for spreading out and over the sky around the edge of the cloud was a muted, greyish light, which was the source of the gloom.
"I've never seen a cloud like that before," said Graham.
"I don't think it's an ordinary cloud," said Colin. "No normal cloud is that thick."
They watched the cloud in silence for a few minutes, but it didn't move, although there was a wind blowing. Slowly, however, the light in the sky around increased, as the sun rose higher behind it.
It was then that Gwen noticed Darach, standing with Wake-Robin crouched beside him, watching the grim spectacle like themselves.
"Darach," she called.
The old man twitched and looked round. "What? Oh it's you." He was clearly displeased.
"What's going on?" asked Graham, "Is it morning?"
"Yes."
"Well why's it still dark then?"
"We are in shadow," the old man replied, and even in gloom they could see the troubled look that crossed his face. Suddenly he had become like a man broken with grief. "Our land is in shadow."
"Look!" cried Gwen, "It's the sun! It's the sun!"
The sun emerged from the edge of the cloud, and it was so bright that they all had to look away. It rose from out of the darkness slowly and majestically, taking its own self-measured time, not hurrying for those who lived in the shadow of the cloud. And then, as a King might throw gold and silver coins to his people as he passed them by, so the sun gave the gifts of life and color for another day - browns and greens and yellows, and blue-grey, mist-hung forests, and shining rivers.
"We take it for granted, don't we?" said Gwen, half to herself.
"Suppose we do," said Graham.
"Look at the cloud now," said Colin. "It seems to be alive."
"Like it was full of maggots," suggested Graham.
"What a revolting thing to say," said Gwen. "Well that's what it looks like."
The description was extremely accurate, for even as they watched, the innards of the clouds seemed to boil and seethe and thrust themselves further over the world. The cloud was getting bigger.
"I want to go home," said Gwen quietly. Colin put his arm round her, something which he seldom did. This time he sensed and shared his sister's fears. The cloud was repulsive, like a spreading disease.
They made their way back through the forest with Darach. In the branches the birds were singing morning songs.
Back at the cottage, Darach made a pot of porridge for breakfast and Wake-Robin brought in a basket of fruit which he had gathered.
"Simple fare, I'm afraid," Darach said.
"That cloud -" began Colin.
"Hmm?"
"That cloud we just saw –"
"Any particular cloud?"
"What do you mean: 'Any particular cloud'? There was only one cloud - the one that stopped the sun."
"Likely a thunder-cloud," said Darach.
"I know what thunder-clouds look like," replied Colin, "and that wasn't a thunder-cloud."
"Wasn't it?" Darach paused.
"You said the land was in shadow. What did you mean?"
Darach said nothing.
"What did you mean?" insisted Colin.
"Why can't you tell us?" demanded Gwen.
"Tell you what?"
"About the cloud."
"I'm afraid I know no more than you."
There was another pause. Graham broke the tense silence. "I've seen that cloud before -" he said slowly.
Darach stopped stirring the porridge, and stiffened but didn't turn round.
"Where?" asked Colin. "When?"
"In a dream. At home. When I had the candle under my pillow."
"What did you see?"
"Graham!" Darach's voice was sharp and commanding. "I forbid you." The old man's eyes bore into Graham.
Graham bit his lip and looked away.
"I - I - there's nothing to tell," Graham said. "I think I've forgotten."
There was a terrible silence. Darach began to stir the porridge again. "Well now," he said, "let us break our fast together. There will come a time for explanations, no doubt. But, as I have said, I have a job to do. We must wait, all of us. Meanwhile, you must all remain here, out of harm's way. And believe me, there is a great deal of harm, even here. Different to your world, but harm nevertheless."
"We're not children, you know," exploded Colin.
"I'm well aware -" began the old man.
"– and there's no need to treat us like children. We didn't ask to come here. If we want to put our fingers in the fire, you're not going to stop us."
"No," said Darach sourly. "Youth will have its way. But believe me, child, there will be time aplenty for finger-burning in the not too distant future. Until then, I suggest you do as I say."
Colin didn't reply, but sat and looked into the fire with tight-pressed lips, not even touching his breakfast.