Alan Garner Classic Collection. Alan Garner

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      “Durathror! Quick! We must guard him!”

      “Stay!” cried Fenodyree as Cadellin made towards the wood. “There is not time, and it would be of no use. See! Managarm is on us!”

      All the sky to the north and east was wolf head. The mouth yawned wider, till there was nothing to be seen but the black, cavernous maw, rushing down to swallow hill and valley whole. Witches, warlocks, svarts, lyblacs, stampeded southwards, crushing underfoot any that blocked the way. The birds outdistanced them all, but they were not swift enough.

      One bird alone did not go south. It flew towards the advancing shadow, climbing ever higher, until it was a black dot against a blacker vault, and even a dwarf’s eyes could not tell if it did clear the ragged fangs that sought to tear it from the sky.

      As the hill slid down the boundless throat Cadellin lifted his right hand, and held Firefrost on high. Gowther stood firm. Colin and Susan clasped their arms about Cadellin’s waist, and Fenodyree grappled to him with his one good arm as much of the wizard’s robes as he could hold.

      “Drochs, Muroch, Esenaroth!”

      A cone of light poured down from the stone, enclosing them in a blue haze. A starving wind, howling like wolves, was about them, yet the air they breathed was still. Slanting yellow eyes were seen dimly through the veil; hungry eyes. And there were other noises and other shapes that were better left unknown.

      The fury raged and beat against the subtle armour, but it was as nothing to the power of Cadellin Silverbrow with Firefrost in his hand.

      And at last, at once, the darkness passed, and the blue light faded. Blinking in the sunlight of a brilliant sky, the survivors of the wrath of Nastrond looked out over fields of white; wind-smoothed, and as empty of life as a polar shore. No svart or lyblac stained the snow; no gaunt figure lay close by; the pillar of Clulow was bare. Away to the south a black cloud rolled. There was joy, and many tears.

      And this tale is called the Weirdstone of Brisingamen. And here is an end of it.

      

       For Adam, Ellen & Katherine

       CONTENTS

       Cover

       Title Page

       Dedication

Map

       Epigraph

1. The Elves of Sinadon

2. The Well

       3. Atlendor

       4. The Brollachan

       5. “To a Woman yt was Dumpe”

       6. Old Evil

       7. Old Magic

       8. Shining Tor

       9. The Horsemen of Donn

       10. Lord of the Herlathing

       11. The Dale of Goyt

       12. The Mere

       13. The Bodach

       14. The Wild Hunt

       15. Errwood

       16. The Howl of Ossar

       17. The Witch-brand

       18. The Dolorous Blow

       19. The Children of Danu

       20. The Last Ride

       Notes

MAP

      “And for to passe the tyme thys book shal be plesaunte to rede in, but for to gyve fayth and byleve that al is trewe that is conteyned herein, yet be at your lyberté.”

      WILLIAM CAXTON

      31 JULY 1485

CHAPTER 1

       THE ELVES OF SINADON

      It was bleak on Mottram road under the Edge, the wooded hill of Alderley. Trees roared high in the darkness. If any people had cause to be out in the night, they kept their heads deep in their collars, and their faces screwed blindly against the Pennine wind. And it was as well they did, for among the trees something was happening that was not meant for human eyes.

      From a rib of the Edge a shaft of blue light cut the darkness. It came from a narrow opening in a high, tooth-shaped rock, and within the opening СКАЧАТЬ