Alan Garner Classic Collection. Alan Garner

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СКАЧАТЬ in front of the iron gates. Father, his back propped against the rock itself, strained, redder than his braces, to lift his voice above the blare of a portable radio to summon his children to tea. They were playing at soldiers in the Devil’s Grave.

      Nothing remained. This place, where beauty and terror had been as opposite sides of the same coin, was now a playground of noise. Its spirit was dead – or hidden. There was nothing to show that svart or wizard had ever existed: nothing, except a barn full of owls at Highmost Redmanhey, and an empty wrist where once a bracelet had been.

      The loss of the bracelet was the cause of slight friction between the Mossocks and the children. Bess was the first to notice that the stone had gone, and Susan, not knowing what to do for the best, poured out the whole story. It was really too much for anyone to digest at once, and Bess could not think what to make of it at all. She was upset over the loss of the Bridestone, naturally, but what troubled her more was the fact that Susan should be so fearful of the consequences that she would invent such a desperate pack of nonsense to explain it all away. Gowther, on the other hand, was by no means so certain that it was all fantasy. He kept his thoughts to himself, but in places the story touched on his recent experiences far too accurately for comfort. However, the affair blew over and no one mentioned it again, though that does not mean to say it was forgotten.

      Shortly before Christmas Colin discovered that the owls had left the barn, and for days after, the children were in a fretful state of anxiety over what the disappearance could mean.

      “Either Cadellin’s got the stone back again,” said Colin, “or he’s lost the fight.”

      “Or perhaps it’s only that he’s sure we’re out of danger, or perhaps … no, that wouldn’t make sense … oh, I wish we knew!”

      And although they spent two whole days ranging the woods from end to end, they found no clue to help them. If there had been a struggle as fierce as Cadellin had predicted, then it had left no trace that they could see.

      It was a young winter of cloudless skies. The stars flashed silver in the velvet, frozen nights, and all the short day long the sun betrayed the earth into thinking it was spring. And late one Sunday afternoon at the end of the first week in January, Colin and Susan climbed out of Alderley village, pushing their bicycles before them. They walked slowly, for it was not a hill to be rushed, and the last stretch was the worst – straight and steep, without any respite. But once they were at the top, the going was comparatively good.

      They did not ride more than a hundred yards, however, for Colin, who was leading, jammed on his brakes so violently that he half fell from his bicycle and Susan nearly piled on top of him.

      “Look!” he gasped. “Look over there!”

      It could be only Cadellin. He stood against the skyline of Castle Rock, staff in hand, facing the plain.

      At once all promises were forgotten: the children dropped their bicycles and ran.

      “Cadellin! Cadellin!”

      The wizard spun round at the sound of their voices, and made as if to leave the rock. But after three strides he checked his pace, stood for a moment, and then walked to the bench and sat down.

      “Oh, Cadellin, we thought something must have happened to you!” cried Susan, sobbing with relief.

      “Many things have happened to me, but I do not feel the worse for that!”

      There was displeasure in his face, tempered with understanding.

      “But we were so worried,” said Colin. “When the owls disappeared we wondered if you’d … you’d …”

      “I see!” said Cadellin, breaking into laughter. “No, no, no, you must not look on life so fearfully. We called the birds away because we knew that you were no longer in danger from the morthbrood.”

      “Well, we thought of that,” said Colin, “but we couldn’t help thinking of other things, too.”

      “But what about the morthbrood?” said Susan. “Have they still got my Tear?”

      “Yes, and no,” said the wizard. “And in their greed and deceit lies all our present hope.

      “Grimnir has the stone. He should have delivered it to Nastrond, but the morthbrood and he intend to master it alone. Perhaps they believe Firefrost holds power for them. If so, they are mistaken!

      “And here we have wheels within wheels; for Grimnir and Shape-shifter, as rumour has it, are planning to reap all benefits for themselves, and to leave the brood and the svarts to whistle for their measure. So says rumour; and I can guess more. I know Grimnir too well to imagine that he would willingly share power with anyone, and the Morrigan, for all her guile, is no match for him. And it may be among all this treachery that we shall find our chance; but for the present we watch, and wait. Firefrost is not in Nastrond’s hand, and for that we must be thankful.

      “There! You have it all, and now we go our ways once more.”

      Colin and Susan were so relieved to find the wizard unharmed that parting from him did not seem anything like so bleak an experience as it had been before.

      “Is there still nothing we can do?” asked Susan.

      “No more than you have been doing all these months. You have played your part well (if we forget this afternoon!), and you must continue to do so, for we do not want you to fall foul of that one again.”

      He pointed with his staff. About the trees through which the Black Lake could normally be seen hung a blanket of fog. Elsewhere, as far as the eye could see, the sunset plain was free of haze or mist, but Llyn-dhu brooded under a fallen cloud.

      “It has been there for over a week,” said the wizard. “I do not know what he is about, but my guess is that he is trying to seal Firefrost within a circle of magic to prevent its power from reaching Fundindelve. He will not succeed, and he has not the strength to destroy the stone. But then, I have not the power to take it by force, so the matter rests, though we do not.”

      Cadellin walked with the children as far as the road, and they left him, lighter at heart than they had been for many a day.

      The mist was still there the following morning. Colin and Susan had set out on their bicycles soon after dawn to spend the day exploring the countryside, and when they had reached the top of the “front” hill Colin had suggested taking another look at Llyn-dhu. So there they now were, sitting on Castle Rock, and gazing at the mist.

      For a long time they were silent, and when next Colin spoke he did no more than put his sister’s thoughts into words.

      “I wonder,” he said, “what it’s like … close to.”

      “Do you think we’d be breaking a promise if we went just to look?”

      “Well, we’re looking now, and we’d be doing the same thing, only from a lot nearer, wouldn’t we?”

      That decided it; but then they realised that they had not the least idea of how to reach the lake. However, by picking out what few landmarks they knew, it seemed that if they made for Wilmslow, and there turned left, they would be heading in something like the right direction. So, without further delay, Colin and Susan rode to Alderley, bought a bottle of lemonade to go with their sandwiches, posted a view of Stormy Point СКАЧАТЬ