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ISLAND MAGIC
In the Kingdom of Mann, Manannan braced himself as Zorianna fell into his portal. Ripping through the webbed magic, she plunged into the secret caverns below the castle on Pheric’s Isle.
Manannan repaired the web and waited.
He didn’t have to wait long.
A rumbling growl followed by the baying of a great dog echoed throughout the castle ruins.
The Moddy Dhoo had begun to prowl.
Manannan sighed.
The Black Dog was an ancient, unpredictable magic, far older than himself. It protected Old Magic and could not be directed. Its current charge was the Sleeper. As he had feared, Zorianna was a threat to her.
FLASH!
Manannan shape-changed into his most fearsome form, one not seen on Mann for hundreds of years, one he used to conceal his identity from enemies while terrifying them. He became three armored legs, joined at the thigh, spinning within a great wheel of fire.
The wheel of fire rolled down the slopes of Barrule, across the water and into the castle’s secret passages.
The Moddy Dhoo raised its black head and sniffed the darkness, seeking the scent of the intruder. It left its lair beneath the castle’s ruined gatehouse and bound into the secret passages, pausing and sniffing eagerly at each twist and turn. It had not hunted prey for hundreds of years.
The Black Dog could be sensed but not seen. Its fur blended with the night for it was darker than darkness. The Moddy Dhoo was more feared than the dark. The giant dog was darkness.
Zorianna’s precipitous entrance through the magic portal alerted a second ancient entity.
A white cat with no tail prowled the secret passages, avoiding the path of the Moddy Dhoo.
White as moonlight and silent as light, the cat was a pale gleam in the dark. She was a guide between the worlds and, unlike the Moddy Dhoo, offered light.
The darkness behind the cat thickened and growled.
The white cat spat and arched high, leaping out of the way.
The passage cleared, the Moddy Dhoo passed on, sniffing the air.
The cat followed, keeping to the high dark ledge.
A sliver of silver drifted down.
One hair. A thread of light in the dark.
Dark and Light. Light and Dark.
At this moment on Gaia, the darkness was very dark indeed.
It was a strange day on the Isle of Man.
Instead of blue skies and warm August sunshine, a creeping gray fog hung in the air, obscuring everything. In the town of Peel, the fog was so thick no one could see across the narrow winding streets. It was an eerie fog, filled with the sound of wings from the passage of restless gulls.
The commotion and the fog seemed to center around tiny Pheric’s Isle across the bay, where the birds on the ruined walls of ancient Peel Castle could be heard screaming defiance at the top of their voices.
People leaving their homes for work, cussed at the fog and wafted impatient hands at the mist veils, trying to spot the cause of the gulls’ unrest.
Nothing could be seen. Thick threads of sea mist drifted to and fro, concealing all but the haziest outline of the castle.
The incessant screams of the gulls echoed around the town.
Old Mr. Cubbon walked stiffly out to the inner harbor and stared across the tidal flats of the River Nebb.
“Hush, you!” he shouted at the birds. “Hush yer screamin’ and give us the skeet.” He cupped his ear and listened.
The screaming died down a little.
AARCK.
A ruffled-looking raven soared through the fog and landed beside the old man.
Mr. Cubbon threw it a piece of toast. “There yer are, Blacky. Come for yer treat as usual. Go on then. Give us the skeet. I’m listenin’.”
The raven picked at the toast. Then, turning its head to one side, it looked piercingly at Mr. Cubbon and uttered a series of cries.
The old man cupped his hand over his ear and listened intently.
His gossip shared, Blacky spread his wings and soared back to Pheric’s Isle, taking the remaining toast with him.
Mr. Cubbon followed Blacky’s flight until the bird was swallowed by the mist. His face was grave. He gave a sudden shudder. “Sommat’s walkin’ over my grave,” he muttered. “Aye, an’ I know what. Yon Moddy Dhoo’s prowlin’. Old Magic’s awake.”
In the Place Beyond Morning, shadows fled as Ava and Equus combined their power to raise the shattered Gates of Sunrise at last. Once more, pure light poured through. It washed over and awakened the land.
“Now it is safe to leave and return to the children,” panted Ava.
Equus looked with pride at their home, from the sun sparkling again on the tips of the Crystal Mountains, to the brilliant sheen of the Silver Citadel.
The sunlight poured in, creating a land of promise. Birds sang in a deafening chorus. Spring flowers budded. Fields and trees greened, and water tumbled through long-dry streambeds.
“Never again will we allow the Dark Being to smash these gates and deprive the universe of light and hope,” said Equus.
Equus and Ava stood together beneath the Gates of Sunrise and bowed in the direction of Gaia. “Thank you, Magic Children, for the return of the talisman and circlet.”
They both staggered under a sudden blast of mindspeak.
“The children! The children are in more trouble,” said Ava. She listened, her face grave. “This is old mindspeak. It couldn’t reach us until we raised the gates and the light streamed through.”
“We must return at once to Gaia,” said Equus. “Dare we risk sending a message?”
Ava shook her head. “Even travel is risky. The Dark One’s emissaries are everywhere.”
Dimming their own light, Equus galloped and Ava soared in his wake, first along sunbeams then among moonbeams, concealing themselves on their journey across the universe, Equus suddenly dug in his hooves and slid to a halt. Ava circled and landed on his back.
All was not well around the planet they called Gaia and the children called Earth. There was a strange thickening in the Mists of Time.
The great horse and hawk peered upward through the brightness, surveying the galaxy for clues.
Ava gasped and Equus stiffened.
The black cloud had cleared, and something dark and terrible pulsed and spun in the middle of the Milky Way.
“The Dark Being has called her Shades together. Look how they circle around her, causing a whirling black hole.” Equus shuddered. “That vortex could swallow us all. Our light may not be strong enough.”
Ava stared in horror, scarcely believing what she saw. She steadied herself and began to speak. “I have heard tell of an ancient way to help dissipate a vortex. When Shades take this form, there is a way to let in a beam of light.” She shivered. “The way is risky, but if I succeed, the light will create a tiny chink in the dark. A crack straight into the Dark Being’s heart.”
“How can we let in light?” asked Equus.
“By using the Dark Being’s own power,” replied Ava. “The vortex draws all toward her. It is her strength, but also her weakness.” She took a deep breath. “Equus, we must use the vortex. It may be our only chance to weaken her.”
Without waiting for Equus to reply, Ava shape-shifted into a tiny hawk. Using her beak, she plucked a small white feather from her breast. She flew onto her companion’s back and swiftly wound a fine silver hair from Equus’ mane around the feather’s shaft and gave a sharp tug.
His skin twitched.
“Ava, this is too dangerous. What about the children?”
“Hush, Equus. The Dark Being is distracted. There couldn’t be a better time. For the sake of Gaia and the universe, the children must wait.”
Ava touched Equus with her wing and took off, flying swiftly, circling toward the vortex.
Equus watched as Ava became a speck against the brightness of the Milky Way. Was she small enough to escape detection? Was she strong enough to escape the pull of the vortex?
Deep in the dungeons of Peel Castle, Zorianna slumped against a cold damp wall. The fight with Myrddin’s staff had drained her. She was spent and sick of Earth Magic. It held too many nasty surprises. The stars only knew where it had deposited her this time.
Zorianna rubbed her head to try to clear it. She longed to rest but dared not. Tipping her head back against the wall, she tried to make sense of her situation.
Earth Magic had captured her. She was somewhere on Gaia, enclosed within the earth and surrounded by water—she loathed the distant hiss of waves. Would they never stop rising and falling?
In the background floated the muffled cries of birds. The agents of air kept watch.
Zorianna shuddered. The barriers of earth, air and water made this the most powerful place she had discovered on the humans’ planet. She was thankful that there was no magical fire. Maybe that was a weakness she could explore…
Before she could complete the thought, a great heat poured down the passages toward her.
She jumped to her feet and reached for Myrddin’s staff. She knew she couldn’t trust it, but she had no magic left. The staff was her only option.
The approaching Earth Magic was almost upon her. The muscles in Zorianna’s arms trembled as she heaved and tugged to raise Myrddin’s stubborn staff.
“Give me light!” she ordered as she finally managed to pull the weighty object upright. “Shield me with light!”
The crystal at the top of the staff glowed for a moment, no more.
“I command you, staff!” screamed Zorianna. “I wield you, and danger approaches. You are required to protect me. Shield me with light!”
A flare spurted from the crystal on top of the staff.
Zorianna’s eyes snapped shut against its sudden brilliance.
She did not see the light split into four thin strands that curled back and forth, winding up, down and around her body, arms and legs.
The crystal dimmed.
Zorianna opened her eyes.
She looked down at the glowing bonds. Their light formed a shield around her, but also bound her wrists and feet. With a howl of anger, she hurled the staff as far as her restricted arms would allow.
The staff thudded to the floor and rolled into a dark corner out of her sight.
A second, more fearsome light blazed. A wheel of fire whirled down the passage and came to a halt before her.
Zorianna closed her eyes and gathered together her remaining courage. This place was a nightmare. Now she was confronted by fire, the element that completed the circle of Earth Magic.
She leaned against the wall for support and tried to stop her bound body from shrinking from the heat.
“YOU WISHED FOR LIGHT. I BRING IT,” roared a voice from within the fire. Armored legs inside the flames revolved almost faster than she could see, threatening to mow her down. “WHO ARE YOU THAT TUMBLES UNINVITED THROUGH THE MISTS AND RENTS MY SECRET PORTAL?”
Zorianna drew herself up as straight as her bonds allowed. Her eyes flashed. “I am Zorianna, emissary of the Dark Being. Who are you?”
Her question was ignored.
“WHY HAS THE STAFF OF THE MYRDDIN BOUND YOU? WHY DID I SENSE FEAR AND TURMOIL WITH YOUR APPROACH?”
“The fear was not from me,” said Zorianna. “It came from the puny human child who hung onto my cloak. He has gone and is of no consequence.”
“NO CONSEQUENCE?” roared the voice. “YOU ARE MISTAKEN. HUMANS ARE ALWAYS OF CONSEQUENCE. HUMANS HOLD THE WELLBEING OF THE UNIVERSE WITHIN THEIR EARTH MAGIC.”
Zorianna laughed harshly. “You jest. The Dark Being holds the fate of the universe.”
The wheel of fire revolved faster, and its flames crackled as it considered Zorianna’s answer.
“SO…YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND…YOU THINK YOU HAVE POWER BECAUSE YOU REPRESENT SHE WHO WOULD BRING DARKNESS TO GAIA? BE AWARE THAT DARKNESS RESIDES HERE ALREADY.”
As the voice of fire spoke, Zorianna saw the darkness behind it thicken.
She gave a snort. “I have experience of your Earth Magic. It is weak and simple. The Dark Being has no equal and is all powerful. When she comes, Gaia will bow to her command or be destroyed. Even you.”
“NEITHER YOU NOR SHE WILL BE ALLOWED TO FIND THE POWER SHE SEEKS. WHAT WILL HAPPEN WHEN YOU FAIL?” The flames glowed.
Zorianna realized she was turning her head from side to side to escape the heat that frizzled her hair and seared her skin.
Flickers of fear threatened to weaken her, but she was also intrigued at what was being said. She closed her eyes against the brightness, held her head high and jutted her chin once more. “Allowed is an interesting word. Nothing can stop the Dark Being from finding the power she seeks. I cannot and will not fail.”
“AHH! YOU DO NOT YET UNDERSTAND THE LINK BETWEEN THE LIGHT AND THE DARK. YOU WILL LEARN, AND I HAVE LEARNED ENOUGH. LHIAT MYR HOILOO—TO THEE AS THOU DESERVEST.”
Abruptly the wheel left.
Zorianna’s knees trembled. She slid down the wall onto the floor with a sigh of relief. She had no idea what curse or spell had been flung at her, but she had not been engaged in a battle. She could rest, regain some strength, and figure out the tiresome Earth Magic that confined her. She placed her bound arms on her knees and rested her head against them.
The light from Zorianna’s bonds continued to glow. It reflected in two sets of watching eyes.
The Moddy Dhoo settled before her on the floor.
A safe distance away, the cat sat up.
Both waited in silence.
It would be some time before Zorianna roused and noticed them.
Mr. Smythe piloted the small floatplane containing the three children and Myrddin across Wales and out over the Irish Sea toward the Isle of Man.
It was a golden day for flying, and Mr. Smythe was in his element. Despite his worry about Adam, he felt the years drop from him as he handled the controls of the six-seater Beaver. He was in charge of something at last, and no magic was involved. He whistled snatches of old army marching songs.
The children relaxed. They all enjoyed flying, and the novelty of taking off in a floatplane from the Avon Estuary and seeing the countryside from the air kept them glued to the windows for the first part of the flight.
Leaving the coast and droning over the Irish Sea was less interesting. Owen and Chantel slept, catching up after their adventurous night on the Tor helping Adam find Myrddin’s staff.
Holly was too worried to sleep. She gazed blankly out of the plane window, mulling over Adam’s fate, her vision of Breesha and the bead. She must get Myrddin on his own to ask his advice.
She lifted her head to look at him.
He sat at the front, beside Mr. Smythe, holding tight to the plane as if his clenched fists had the power to keep it in the air. He had been silent for the whole flight, she realized. He was worried too and not just about the flying.
Holly sighed. Mr. Smythe was so terrified that some awful magic would happen that he wouldn’t let Myrddin out of his sight. He had made sure the children had no chance to talk to him.
Myrddin must know who Breesha was. Surely she couldn’t be the Lady. Other than the fabulous necklace, she wasn’t grand or magical looking like the other Wise Ones. And she was dead! A Wise One couldn’t die. Or could they?
Holly stole another look at Myrddin. She had no idea how long he’d been alive. He looked Mr. Smythe’s age, except his hair and beard were red not gray. Mr. Smythe was seventy, but Myrddin must be much older. Centuries old? No, thousands of years old. It gave her the shivers to think about it.
Holly closed her eyes. The anxious thoughts milled around and around. At last she too slipped into an uneasy doze.
“Here, try these,” Mr. Smythe shouted. He offered Myrddin a pair of headphones and the two-way radio.
Myrddin put them on.
“That’s better,” said Mr. Smythe’s voice in his ear. “Now we can talk without the engine drowning us out.”
“Is your dratted machine always this loud?” grumbled Myrddin.
“Now, now! She’s singing as sweetly as a bird,” said Mr. Smythe with a grin. He patted the control panel.
Myrddin snorted. “We’d have been on Mann in seconds, if we’d gone through the portal.”
“But this way we’ll arrive without incident,” retorted Mr. Smythe, “without your magical friends and enemies conspiring to make life interesting.”
“You humans,” said Myrddin, “you cannot bring yourself to trust Old Magic.”
Mr. Smythe chuckled. “And you cannot bring yourself to trust our planes.”
“I have to admit I did not submit willingly. It seems an unnatural mode of locomotion.” Myrddin shifted to a more comfortable position in his seat, but his fingers remained clenched on the armrest.
The afternoon sun danced on the sea below, and the sky was a clear pale blue except for a bank of fog hanging on the horizon.
Mr. Smythe pointed. “My instruments tell me the Isle of Man is behind the fogbank.” He frowned. “These weather conditions are very strange. The sun is so strong I’d have expected the fog to have burnt off by now.”
Myrddin showed no surprise. “Manannan has drawn his cloak of mist around the island. He feels threatened. Zorianna has invaded his kingdom.”
Now it was Mr. Smythe’s turn to look uneasy. “I hope I am doing the right thing bringing the children here,” he muttered.
Adam still slept. Sprawled on the floor and covered with soft wraps, he was deep in the sleep that follows total exhaustion. He turned over. His hand brushed his hair and transferred some Bollan Bane dust to his eyelids. A small dream danced, a silly dream. He saw Owen leaping around trying to catch one of Ava’s feathers, only somehow the feather turned into a toothbrush. Adam’s lips lifted. He smiled in his sleep, cupped one hand under his cheek and sank into oblivion again.
The Dark Being looked at Adam and also smiled. She found great pleasure planning devious ways to use the boy. As she watched him, she rubbed one finger in a circle on the dark stone in her ring. Round and round she rubbed.
Round and round and round swirled her vortex.
The children woke as the plane circled high above the fog. Mr. Smythe frowned as a voice cackled in his headphones.
He turned his head and hollered to the children over the noise of the engine. “I cannot land yet. The island is socked in with fog. We’ll circle for a while. If there are no breaks in the cloud, we might have to go back.” He banked and circled again.
The children stared down through the windows.
“I don’t see an island. Only sea and fog. How do we know we are flying over the right place?” Chantel asked.
Owen shook his head and pointed to his ears. He could see her lips moving, but he couldn’t hear words.
Chantel peered down at the waves and the strange gray mist. She shivered.
Myrddin held up one finger as if to ask for a minute. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.
Owen watched. He nudged Holly, pointed and mouthed, “He’s sending mindspeak to someone.”
She nodded.
The someone heard Myrddin. They were blasted.
WELCOME.
The stranger’s mindspeak was so loud everyone jumped. Along with the greeting flashed a fleeting vision of a white-haired man, arms outstretched, standing on the peak of a heather-covered mountain.
The fog below the plane swirled and parted.
The cousins cheered as they looked down through the gap in the clouds.
A wide swath of sunshine swept across an emerald green island with a spine of purple mountains down the center. It was a pretty place, crisscrossed with stone-walled fields and dotted with white washed cottages. A blue sea frothed against rocky cliffs and headlands on one side of the plane, and, on the other, waves rippled into a wide sandy bay sheltered by a long harbor.
The plane darted down through the gap in the fog.
Chantel laughed. “The island was hiding.”
The children pressed their faces against the plane windows.
In the maze of passages below the ruins of Peel Castle, Zorianna woke at last and shifted her aching body. She did not know how long she had slept but could sense it was still daylight, though the darkness around her had not lifted.
She lifted her head, checked her wrists and groaned. She’d hoped the staff’s magic would wear off. It hadn’t. She was still bound from head to foot with thin beams of light. She stared at them. Were the beams fainter?
She tested their strength, jerking her wrists hard apart. The bonds held with the same firm grip.
At least they gave out light. The only light in this terrible place.
Or was it the only light? Zorianna peered into the darkness.
Two sets of eyes glinted. What was staring at her?
Zorianna stared back and made out the faint white shape of a cat.
She curled her lip and dismissed the cat as harmless. She turned her eyes to the thick mass of darkness beside the cat.
Red eyes blinked.
Zorianna shivered, sensing magic and malice. She felt vulnerable, bound and helpless on the floor.
Pressing her back against the dungeon wall, she struggled to stand.
The Moddy Dhoo’s eyes blazed.
Zorianna held her head high and glared back.
The dark mass in front of her rose to its feet and growled.
Zorianna forced herself not to flinch.
The cat spoke. “Which do you choose, Light or Dark?”
Relief flooded over her. Zorianna threw back her head and laughed. “Earth Magic is unbelievable! That’s it? So simple?”
“Yes, it is quite simple,” agreed the cat. “Which do you choose?”
Zorianna chuckled craftily. “Aah…if I choose the Dark, the being I sense at your side will take me. But if I choose Light, you, a cat, will protect me?” She laughed again. “I think not.” She thought for a moment. “What if I choose not to make a choice?”
“We will wait,” said the cat. “You will choose in the end. You have three chances to choose light.”
Zorianna chuckled.
Growling softly, the Moddy Dhoo settled on the ground.
Zorianna tried to stare it down.
The sound of singing interrupted the stalemate.
The song drifted through the castle. The sound was magical, wordless and haunting. Despite its beauty, the voice was filled with a great sadness. The notes sobbed and wailed through the mist and were scattered on the wind.
The song cut through the cries of the restless birds that screamed and wheeled above the castle. It silenced and subdued them. One by one, the gulls returned to the walls where they turned around and around and scratted at their hollows before settling and hiding their heads under their wings.
The eerie voice seeped through cracks in the rocks and echoed along the dark passages and dungeons below.
The sound made Zorianna shiver, for the song held a magic that was not simple. This was Old Magic. Magic she had no wish to challenge.
Zorianna thought about her situation. She was rested, and she could think straight. It was time to make a move while the Earth Magic restraining her remained simple.
Zorianna shape-changed into a bat and tried to slip her bonds.
She was quick, but not quick enough. As she shrank in size so did the bonds. One wing remained pinned to her body.
She changed into water that trickled between the bonds, down the wall and across the floor.
The Moddy Dhoo’s red tongue shot out.
Before it reached the water, Zorianna changed into a tiny mouse and ran for a hole in the wall.
Poor choice! The cat pounced. She held the mouse in her mouth. The tail hung from her lips.
“Choose Light or Dark, for the second time of asking,” mumbled the cat.
The magical song in the background swelled.
Zorianna turned into a scorpion. One claw grabbed the cat’s tongue at the same time as the scorpion tail curled up and stung the cat’s nose.
With a yowl of pain the cat opened her mouth and shook her head hard.
The scorpion flew through the air, transforming into a large crab that hit the ground and scuttled toward a crack.
SPLAT. The Moddy Dhoo’s paw flattened the crab’s body.
AWHOOOOOOoooooo. It was the Black Dog’s turn to leap and howl as the crab became a prickly hedgehog that rolled from under the wounded paw and out of sight.
“Earth Magic is so simple,” sneered Zorianna and became an owl.
Her owl eyes could see in the dark. She flapped through the labyrinth of tunnels, seeking an exit.
The irritating magical song grew louder.
Light!
A small gap filled with daylight gleamed high up in the dungeon wall. It let in light, a breath of air and the song.
No matter. It offered escape. Zorianna glided toward it.
A thundering, rumbling growl made her shiver.
Something bound past her. The darkness between her and the light thickened.
Zorianna flapped and dodged from side to side searching for a way past.
The Moddy Dhoo’s presence grew to fill the space. The light was gone.
Zorianna doubled back.
The white shape of the cat sat in the center of the passage behind her.
“You cannot escape,” said the cat.
Zorianna’s lip curled. She shape-changed into a black spider invisible in the darkness.
“Very clever,” said the cat. “But you cannot escape. Light or Dark, which do you choose?”
The magical song wailed and sobbed.
The spider climbed the dungeon wall.
The cat sighed.
Red eyes gleamed like searchlights.
SPLAT.
The Moddy Dhoo’s paw shot out and stunned the spider. Its body tumbled to the floor, stretching, lengthening and returning to the form of a young woman.
Zorianna stirred and opened her eyes.
“Light or Dark? There are no more chances,” whispered the cat in her ear. “There is no escape. ‘Lhiat myr hoiloo—to thee as though deservest.’ Remember?”
Zorianna remembered and shuddered with fear as the Moddy Dhoo began to bay.
It was a dreadful sound. Each howl rent the air like hundreds of voices shrieking.
The cries swelled around her and brought back terrible memories.
Zorianna remembered every planet she and the Dark Being had visited and destroyed. She heard the cry of each creature she had tormented.
The cries and screams echoed in her head. She writhed on the floor, blocking her ears. “It wasn’t my fault,” she screamed. “I just followed orders.”
Now laughter rang in her ears. Her own laughter. A cruel laughter echoing back to her from memories of watching Holly and others like her, tormented by mind games of Zorianna’s devising.
“Stop it!” shrieked Zorianna. “Stop the cries, stop the voices, stop the laughter.”
“I cannot stop it,” said the cat. “To thee as thou deservest. They are the voices you unleashed.”
The Moddy Dhoo threw back its head, and more terrible howls surrounded them.
Zorianna curled into a ball and stuffed her fingers in her ears. But the howls continued to stir up the cries of terror. Memories of the people she’d hurt filled her head.
Zorianna scrambled to her feet, hands over her ears. Shaking her head from side to side in agony, she stumbled blindly down the corridor.
The Moddy Dhoo bayed on and on.
The cat lifted one paw.
Two silver doorways appeared, one filled with the magical song and brilliant light, one gaping with silent darkness.
Weaving on her feet, Zorianna paused then stumbled into the dark silence.
The cat sighed as the doorways vanished. “She chose the dark.”
The Moddy Dhoo blinked and slunk back to his lair.
Remnants of the magical song drifted softly through the air.
Snatches of song floated across the water to Peel town.
In the cottage by the harbor, Mr. Cubbon’s deaf ears heard it. He jerked upright at the table, slopping his brew of tea.
“Somethin’ startle you?” asked his wife.
“Can yer not hear a maid keening?” said Mr. Cubbon.
“Nay. It’s your hearing aid playing its tricks.” His wife leaned over and eased it out of his ear. She shook it, gave it a smack and examined the battery.
Mr. Cubbon could still hear the voice.
He watched his wife. She did not hear the sad song. He must be hearing magic sounds. Mr. Cubbon smiled to himself. It was his special gift come back again. In childhood he’d heard things. Things no one else heard. “Me magic ear,” he’d called it to himself. He’d never spoken of it, and it had died away as he grew up. Now in his old age, his magic ear was back. He might be deaf to many everyday sounds, but his magic ear enriched his life. He was content to be called eccentric when folks heard him holding conversations with shadows on the beach, the raven, or the sprite that lived in Spooyt Vane. No one dreamed that he really did see spirits and understand animals and birds.
Mr. Cubbon supped his tea and made no further mention of the song. But he wondered what this new stirring of sad magic would bring.
The song drifted to and fro, up and down the narrow streets of Peel. No other person had ears that heard it. The notes crept into cracks and crevices, echoed down gratings and into the long forgotten smuggler’s passages that ran under the sea, linking Pheric’s Isle to Peel.
The song rippled through the still air in the passages, stirring centuries of dust that had collected on an old oak board leaning against the wall. The dust dropped away and revealed ancient scratchings on the wooden surface.
The song sighed into silence.