B00JX4CVBU EBOK Read online

  Chloe put down her wine and said, ‘History Turner. The Vordene are as old as civilisation, perhaps older. When a group has been around as long as that, it’s quite easy to build up a fortune. These days it’s real estate mostly. You’d be surprised at how much of the UK the Vordene, as a whole, own. Really surprised.’

  ‘Real estate?’ said Brooke. ‘I thought we boiled up kiddies for their gold fillings.’ When no one laughed, she added, ‘In our cauldrons …’

  ‘Yeah, we get it, Brooke. Still not funny,’ said Celeste. ‘Turner, Ember, if you leave in the morning, you can be home by lunch.’

  ‘Well, I look forward to a shopping trip using your mystic transporter beam then,’ said Turner. He noticed Ember smiling. ‘It should be …’ Turner stopped. His eyes went wide. Past the heads of the girls, past their reflections in the glass walls of the sunroom, Turner could see two yellow, glowing eyes in the darkness.

  ‘Turner?’ said Ember, turning to peer in the direction he was looking.

  ‘It’s … it’s another one of the not-Scathers, but this time inside one of the lion statues at the top of the steps out there. It’s watching us.’

  Chairs screeched on the tiled floor as the girls stood up and started talking all at once.

  ‘Stop!’ yelled Celeste. ‘Nobody look at it!’ She placed her hands deliberately on the table. ‘Everybody sit down please. I have to think … Turner, don’t look at it.’

  Turner took one last sideways glance. Those hideous eyes seemed to burn into his brain.

  ‘It’s not real though, Turner?’ said Chloe. ‘You said it was like a fell.’

  ‘Not real, no,’ said Turner, ‘but there’s something coming from it … just as wrong. It hurts my head.’

  ‘Blast the rotten thing away then, like you did with the other one,’ said Brooke, trying hard not to look out of the window.

  ‘No,’ said Celeste. ‘No. We need to buy some time, guys. Mother Torhild needs at least a couple of days to get things ready in Orkney for the Binding. We can’t afford for that thing to take or kill Turner, or drop us into a pit now it’s tracked him down. What if …’

  Celeste frowned at her plate in front of her, and a small smile grew on her face. She whispered, ‘What if we pretend Turner and Ember are going to Paris, but actually go to …’ She paused, and her gaze darted in the direction of the glass doors. She placed one arm around her plate.

  Turner’s inner child whooped with joy when a tiny, misty forest grew on Celeste’s plate. Minuscule transparent trees grew on the remains of her salad. It lasted a second before Celeste blew a gentle breath, and it dissipated like a fog in a breeze.

  ‘Really?’ said Ember. ‘Wow, Celeste, you must think it’s important, if you’re allowing us …’

  Celeste’s clenched her hands into fists. ‘Can you think of anything more important than losing our Ring—the Ellring—now we’ve finally found him?’

  ‘No. Of course not. When then? And how will we know to return?’

  ‘Take this,’ said Chloe and lifted a leather cord over her head. A wooden bead hung from the cord. But when Ember held it on her palm, Turner saw it was actually a large seed. ‘You know where you’re going, right? The power of this will be amplified there. I’ll be able to call you home.’

  Celeste said, ‘I think you should leave now. We’ll stand at the back door and wish you a wonderful trip to Paris.’ She lowered her voice once more. ‘And hopefully that’s where that thing will look for you.’

  ‘I have absolutely no idea what’s going on,’ said Turner.

  Ember stood, and held out her hand to Turner. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll explain when we get there.’

  *

  Turner held Ember’s hand as they walked between the two stone lion statues at the top of the steps, one of which contained the spying eyes. He saw the yellow glow had almost faded from sight, as if it were hiding from him. But Turner didn’t have to see a Scather, or even a pair of eyes, to know it was there, and that it was watching.

  The girls on the sunroom step began calling out.

  ‘Bye!’

  ‘Have a great time!’

  ‘Enjoy Paris!’

  ‘I’m so jealous!’

  Don’t overdo it guys, Turner thought.

  Ember turned and gave them a wave. ‘See you in a couple of days. Paris here we come!’

  They walked down the path and stopped just outside the well. They were almost in darkness as the only illumination was from an outside light on the back of the manor house. The well’s white stone walls shone ghost-like before them.

  They entered the stone structure and stood before the square pool of water. Ember took both of Turner’s hands in hers. ‘You’ve never done this before so it might be a bit jarring. Probably best if you close your eyes.’

  Turner closed his eyes and was about to ask how long it would take when everything changed. He felt like he had just tripped up a step. He knew they had arrived at their destination because there was brightness behind his closed eyelids, the air was different, the sound was different, and more than anything it felt different. All at once his body was tingling with energy. He felt powerful, strong and clear.

  He opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Ember. She searched his eyes and waited for his reaction. Turner’s eyes widened. A red and orange glow billowed around her. A swirling, gossamer mist which emanated from her head and arms. At first Turner was afraid she was on fire.

  ‘Ember … there’s smoke coming off you.’

  Ember smiled and the red mist around her became orange and rose up in excited ribbons. ‘It’s not smoke you ninny. It’s my aura. And, oh my God, Turner. You should see yours. It’s like a fountain of blue and gold pouring out of you. I’ve never seen anything like it.’

  Turner held out his hand but didn’t see anything coming from it. It was then he noticed where they were. His mouth fell open and he turned around slowly as he took it in. They were surrounded by a forest. A forest of enormous straight trees. Sunlight streamed down in cathedral-like beams through the trees’ canopy, spot-lighting a leaf-carpeted forest floor. Light and shadow. The air was warm and thick with the heady odour of greenery and earth, like stepping from a chilly day into a large greenhouse. The forest seemed to extend forever, with no underbrush or small trees. Only the hundreds and thousands of pale behemoths, their brown arms reaching for the heavens, their mighty feet planted firmly among moss covered rocks and mounds of earth.

  Turner tilted his head all the way back, spinning slowly on the spot, until finally he felt Ember’s hand on his shoulder. ‘You’ll fall down, if you’re not careful,’ she said.

  ‘Where are we?’ asked Turner. He was half expecting the answer to be ‘another planet.’

  ‘This is the True.’

  ‘The True? The True what?’

  ‘Just … the True.’

  Turner looked up again. ‘It’s daytime here.’

  ‘Darkness never falls in the True.’

  Ember had spoken quietly, and Turner noticed another thing about this place; it was almost devoid of sound. Turner listened, but could hear no birds or other animals, just the gentle rustle of leaves rubbing against each other in the slight breeze. From somewhere nearby came the sound of water, a small stream or waterfall. The place looked like it had never seen the hand of man. A forest from the dawn of time.

  Ember picked up a fallen stick and pointed at the trees. ‘Tree and true come from the same ancient word. This is a shadow world. The Grimshade of the Scathers is a shadow world too. Chloe thinks there may be other shadow worlds as well, ones we don’t know about, or have forgotten, and she’s researching all the old Vordene texts for them.’

  ‘You said this place is like the Scathers’ world?’

  ‘No, no, it’s a shadow world, but isn’t evil like the Grimshade. Quite the opposite. It’s a dimension of life, of life-force.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Turner holding out his hands. ‘I can feel it. I really can.’ The feeling wa
s similar to what had happened to him the previous night, when the girls had surrounded him at the battle of the Scathers. An incredible feeling of strength and power, of clarity and precision.

  ‘Chloe says that the best modern way of thinking about it, is to imagine a giant battery that’s supplying good Gaia energy into our world.’ Ember looked Turner up and down, her eyes wide. ‘And into you by the look of it. Your aura is off the charts ,Turner.’

  ‘I love this place,’ said Turner, a huge grin on his face. ‘I feel so alive.’

  He was wrong about the sounds, because he could hear birds … wait, now it was more like human singing. But as he tilted his head to hear better he realised no human had ever sung like that. It was an ethereal chorus, a thousand new age albums playing at once. He spun around looking for its source. And then he saw them: glowing, floating streams of greenish light, flowing through the forest, around the giant trunks, coming towards them. Ten, twenty and more.

  ‘Here they come,’ said Ember, throwing her arms wide.

  ‘Who? What?’

  ‘The True of course,’ said Ember, smiling widely at Turner as if it made all the sense in the world.

  Soon Turner and Ember were surrounded by dozens of the singing, luminous beings. Orbs of translucent, scintillating green, each shimmering with the lights of a thousand tiny stars. Turner was not a religious person, but this had to be the most awe inspiring thing ever to happen to him. The ethereal music, the cathedral-like atmosphere of the trees, and the streaming light were sending shockwaves of tingling reverence through his body.

  ‘What … what are they?’

  ‘They’re called the True. They are the spirits of this dimension. Really, they are the trees as well. Soon they’ll … oh look, there they go.’

  The floating green wispy lights lowered to the ground, and as they did they became human in form. To Turner, they looked like tall, slightly see-through ghosts of elves.

  One of the beings floated forward and spoke directly into Turner’s mind, ‘No Turner, we are not elves. Although perhaps we are the original template for the elves?’

  Ember gave Turner’s elbow a nudge. ‘Like the Vordene and witches.’

  Turner couldn’t shake his grin. ‘You can hear them too?’

  ‘Of course.’ Ember bowed to the spirits. ‘Greetings, True. This is Turner, the Wickerwell Vordene’s Ring. As you can see, he’s an Ellring.’

  The spirit which had earlier spoken to Turner, now lifted gently off the ground and floated around him twice. ‘Yes. We know. Such power does your Ellring hold, Ember. He holds within the equivalent of a True year.’

  ‘Meaning?’ Turner asked Ember.

  ‘Meaning oh-my-bloody-God, that’s what. Your spooper powers are a lot more powerful than we thought.’

  ‘That’s good, yeah?’

  Once again the voice in his head. ‘It means in all probability your power will be needed, Turner. Monumental events await you. An Ellring’s lot is not an enviable one.’

  Even half a day ago, these words would have had Turner running back to London. But here, surrounded by the trees and their sprits, he felt nothing except wonder, peace and awe. He was amazed just to be here.

  He felt Ember take his hand. He turned to her and said, ‘Not to worry. In for a penny …’

  Ember smiled gratefully. ‘You’re changing, Turner.’

  ‘He is becoming his power. Recast. Transmuted,’ said the spirit. ‘A mighty oak bursting fully-formed from a lowly acorn.’ Turner saw the other ghost elves smile, so he smiled too, although he wasn’t too sure about the ‘lowly acorn’ business.

  ‘If we may impose on the True, we seek shelter here for a day or two please,’ said Ember.

  ‘We know. We welcome you. We have created a dwelling for you beside the stream. Follow, please.’

  Turner and Ember followed the spirit, along with the rest of the ghostly True. A short walk away they came to the stream: a clear running brook edged with large round boulders. The trees nearest the water, dipped their large roots like people dangling their legs in a pool. On the bank beside the stream, an enormous tree had widened out near its base, forming an organic cave. Turner looked through the doorway made of thick roots and saw wooden furniture within.

  ‘Wow!’ said Turner. ‘When did you do this?’

  ‘Just now,’ came the whispered voice in his head. ‘Do you wish for another room?’

  Before Turner or Ember could say anything, a large root beside the wooden cave prised itself out of the ground and billowed out. It then split into smaller roots, which reburied themselves in the ground in rows, and morphed together to form the walls of a new smaller cave.

  Turner grinned widely at Ember. ‘Instant tenements! It’s like an en-suite.’

  The True speaker, at least Turner thought it was the same one, floated over to Ember and said into their minds, ‘We will leave you now. Feel free to use the water for drinking and bathing. There is food indoors, we hope it will suffice. If you have need of anything else, just ask or think it, and it will appear. We have a Gathering in about twelve of your hours. You are most welcome to join us. We will return then to show you the way to the knot. To the clearing.’

  Ember bowed slightly. ‘On behalf of the Wickerwell Vordene, I thank you so much, True.’

  The humanoid ghosts morphed once again into hovering green wisps and drifted off into the forest. Their choir-like singing began again, and the spirits vanished behind the trees. Their song became fainter and fainter, until all that was left was the echo of the song, or maybe just its memory.

  *

  Turner was still gazing off into the forest, trying to comprehend everything he had just seen when he noticed Ember yawning.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, covering her mouth. ‘Back home we’d be getting ready for bed. Plus you have to admit, it’s been a big couple of days.’

  Turner nodded. Sleep did sound good. ‘You’re not wrong there.’

  ‘I might go and take a bath first though.’

  ‘A bath?’ Turner poked his head in the shack. There were two low beds, two chairs and a table, but no bath.

  ‘In the stream. It won’t be cold. You only have to think of it being warm and it will be.’

  ‘Oh. Don’t know if I need a bath just yet, but my clothes sure do. Can I wash them in the stream?’

  Ember walked to the edge of the water and ran her hand through it. ‘Sure. Then just hang them over the edge of our little wooden cave there. They’ll dry by the time we wake, and if not, I’ll help them along.’ She held up her hands and wiggled her fingers.

  Turner imagined himself beside the stream washing all of his clothes. Hmm. ‘Ah, we might need some dressing gowns, you know, bath robes or something.’

  Ember stood up. ‘Check the end of the beds.’

  Turner walked into the little hut. The furniture was all made roughly of wood, Robinson Crusoe style. There on the end of each bed was a pile of folded material. He was sure they hadn’t been there when he looked in a minute ago. Stepping over to the closest bed, he picked up the pile. There was a towel, a dressing gown, and amazingly, some underwear. And all of it made from a heavy off-white cotton or hemp material.

  ‘They made me new underwear!’ Turner yelled over his shoulder.

  Ember came into the hut and sat down on the other bed. ‘They must have heard you thinking about it.’ She stood up, taking the dressing gown and towel from the end of her bed. ‘I’m going for my bath. More of a swim really.’ She looked at him and then down at the towel. ‘Sure you don’t want to join me?’

  The old Turner, from a few days ago, probably would have reddened, and stammered out a quick ‘no thanks.’ But the new Turner, as he was thinking of himself, smiled and looked Ember right in the eye. ‘I’d like that actually. Let’s go.’

  A stone’s throw downstream the water ran quickly over a row of boulders creating a small waterfall. A large, deep pool had formed in front of the falling water. Turner and Ember stood beside the p
ool, both quiet. Turner wasn’t sure, but he thought Ember was probably thinking the same thing he was.

  ‘Swim in our underwear or …’

  Ember didn’t take her eyes off the water. ‘Well, underwear this time? At least at first?’

  Now the uncomfortable decision had been made, Turner quickly stripped off his t-shirt, jeans, socks and shoes. To give Ember some privacy he headed straight into the water. It was cold at first, but started to warm up as he stood there. ‘Thank you,’ Turner said to the trees.

  Turner heard Ember enter the water behind him and turned around. He was unprepared for what he saw. She was only wearing her black, lacy underwear, and held back her hair as she manoeuvred around some stones. She really was gorgeous. He loved the way she looked: toned, sensual and graceful.

  Ember looked up, saw his appeasing gaze and blushed slightly. Turner couldn’t help himself. ‘You’re beautiful, Ember. Really.’

  Ember joined him in the waist high water. She grabbed his arm as she half tripped on a sunken rock. Her gaze followed the muscles of his arm to his chest. ‘You’re not too bad yourself.’ Her voice low, almost washed away by the sound of the falls.

  ‘You were right about the True making the water warm, it’s like a huge natural spa bath,’ said Turner.

  He raised his arms high and let himself fall backwards. The warm water enveloped him and he could feel the power of the True in its embrace. He swam to the centre of the pool where the water was up to his neck. Ember surfaced next to him laughing, her dark red hair even darker wet. She was about a head shorter than Turner and couldn’t find footing in the deeper part of the pool, so treaded water for a moment before placing her hands on Turner’s shoulders. She was still blinking water from her eyes, and her wet hair was plastered down one side of her face, but Turner thought he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life. He placed his hands on her hips, and as they looked into each other’s eyes, their smiles disappeared. Turner pulled Ember to him and she wrapped her arms around his neck. They kissed. It was long, wet from the water, and for Turner, breathtaking. Going by Ember’s aura which now radiated outwards like a massive solar flare, it was more than good for her as well.