him.
‘Wedge, you are a fool,’ said the Magus, ‘but now that this matter is clear, I shall not punish you.’
‘Yes, Master. No, Master,’ said Wedge, his eye gleaming with relief.
‘Destroy the dog yourself if that is what you want to do.’
‘No!’ shouted Jack.
The Magus laughed. ‘Jack, there are powerful reasons why you must quell your dislike of me and assist me in the Work. The dog is but a dog. You also have a mother. Behold!’
The Magus turned to Anne, Jack’s mother.
‘Anne,’ said the Magus, ‘did you dream one night that you were alive yet could not move at all, yet could not lift your arms nor feel your heart beating?’
‘I have dreamed that dream, sir,’ said Anne.
‘Then dream it now,’ said the Magus, and before Jack’s eyes his mother’s warm soft body began to harden. It had been the folds of her skirts – now it was her blouse and jacket, her strong arms that always held him when he was afraid. Anne caught her breath as she felt the cold change steal over her. Instinctively, she held out her arms, and in the position, her arms turned to stone, her arms outstretched, her palms open. The strange stone, the lifelike statue-making ceased at her neck, and Jack could see the cords of her neck throbbing as the blood still flowed there.
‘Jack!’ said Anne.
Jack went towards her. He touched her cold arms with his warm hands and he felt the smooth hard folds of her clothes. Then he touched her face, still warm, still full of love for him. It was as if she had heard his thoughts, and she said, ‘Though my body is turned to stone, my heart is alive because of you, Jack, and, look, how my lips may still smile when I see your dear face.’
Jack stood looking at his mother, as still as stone himself.
The Magus came forward. ‘You have done this, Jack. This is your disobedience. Now look carefully at your mother – once and twice she has been punished for you. The third time will be the last time and she will not speak to you again, but be as a statue in the street, and you will never know her more.’
‘You said you would free her when the Work is completed!’ cried Jack.
The Magus nodded. ‘The power is its own power. Once, and twice, I may free her, but when she is stone and nothing but stone, then I may not free her more. Think well, Jack, think carefully what you do next. Other lives depend on you now.’
‘What must I do?’ asked Jack.
‘You must assist me,’ said the Magus. ‘It is dawn. Tonight the alignment of stars and the new moon demands the beginning of the Work. In twenty-seven days’ time, at the full moon, there will be an eclipse of the sun, and then the Work can be completed and the City of Gold will be mine!’
‘And then?’ said Jack.
‘And then indeed!’ repeated the Magus. ‘And then your power will be no more, and you may return to the world you long for, with those you love.’
The Magus turned. ‘Wedge! The boy will rest. Feed him and rest him, and secure him well. I want no further escapes – he must be ready for tonight. Do you understand?’
Wedge nodded. With his heavy hand on Jack’s shoulder, he led him away.
T he Dragon was busy.
The Dragon was the Moat and the Moat was the Dragon, but the Dragon was also not the Moat and the Moat was also not the Dragon.
Confusing.
A Dragon is a very confusing creature. But the Dragon himself is not confused.
The Dragon was busy filling the Moat with what might have been water, and was but wasn’t. Not water to wash in or water to drink. This was no common or ordinary water; it was the only water in the world that could free the Sunken King.
The Dragon had this water in three enormous wooden barrels, and he carried the barrels one by one to the Moat.
He poured in the first barrel, and the Moat filled with this liquid; blue like mystery.
He poured in the second barrel and the Moat filled with that liquid; red like blood.
He poured in the third barrel and the Moat filled with a
‘Wedge, you are a fool,’ said the Magus, ‘but now that this matter is clear, I shall not punish you.’
‘Yes, Master. No, Master,’ said Wedge, his eye gleaming with relief.
‘Destroy the dog yourself if that is what you want to do.’
‘No!’ shouted Jack.
The Magus laughed. ‘Jack, there are powerful reasons why you must quell your dislike of me and assist me in the Work. The dog is but a dog. You also have a mother. Behold!’
The Magus turned to Anne, Jack’s mother.
‘Anne,’ said the Magus, ‘did you dream one night that you were alive yet could not move at all, yet could not lift your arms nor feel your heart beating?’
‘I have dreamed that dream, sir,’ said Anne.
‘Then dream it now,’ said the Magus, and before Jack’s eyes his mother’s warm soft body began to harden. It had been the folds of her skirts – now it was her blouse and jacket, her strong arms that always held him when he was afraid. Anne caught her breath as she felt the cold change steal over her. Instinctively, she held out her arms, and in the position, her arms turned to stone, her arms outstretched, her palms open. The strange stone, the lifelike statue-making ceased at her neck, and Jack could see the cords of her neck throbbing as the blood still flowed there.
‘Jack!’ said Anne.
Jack went towards her. He touched her cold arms with his warm hands and he felt the smooth hard folds of her clothes. Then he touched her face, still warm, still full of love for him. It was as if she had heard his thoughts, and she said, ‘Though my body is turned to stone, my heart is alive because of you, Jack, and, look, how my lips may still smile when I see your dear face.’
Jack stood looking at his mother, as still as stone himself.
The Magus came forward. ‘You have done this, Jack. This is your disobedience. Now look carefully at your mother – once and twice she has been punished for you. The third time will be the last time and she will not speak to you again, but be as a statue in the street, and you will never know her more.’
‘You said you would free her when the Work is completed!’ cried Jack.
The Magus nodded. ‘The power is its own power. Once, and twice, I may free her, but when she is stone and nothing but stone, then I may not free her more. Think well, Jack, think carefully what you do next. Other lives depend on you now.’
‘What must I do?’ asked Jack.
‘You must assist me,’ said the Magus. ‘It is dawn. Tonight the alignment of stars and the new moon demands the beginning of the Work. In twenty-seven days’ time, at the full moon, there will be an eclipse of the sun, and then the Work can be completed and the City of Gold will be mine!’
‘And then?’ said Jack.
‘And then indeed!’ repeated the Magus. ‘And then your power will be no more, and you may return to the world you long for, with those you love.’
The Magus turned. ‘Wedge! The boy will rest. Feed him and rest him, and secure him well. I want no further escapes – he must be ready for tonight. Do you understand?’
Wedge nodded. With his heavy hand on Jack’s shoulder, he led him away.
T he Dragon was busy.
The Dragon was the Moat and the Moat was the Dragon, but the Dragon was also not the Moat and the Moat was also not the Dragon.
Confusing.
A Dragon is a very confusing creature. But the Dragon himself is not confused.
The Dragon was busy filling the Moat with what might have been water, and was but wasn’t. Not water to wash in or water to drink. This was no common or ordinary water; it was the only water in the world that could free the Sunken King.
The Dragon had this water in three enormous wooden barrels, and he carried the barrels one by one to the Moat.
He poured in the first barrel, and the Moat filled with this liquid; blue like mystery.
He poured in the second barrel and the Moat filled with that liquid; red like blood.
He poured in the third barrel and the Moat filled with a
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