Excerpt
< 'Pop'. He felt a tiny spark burst inside his head, and he breathed slowly, deeply, his whole body now tingling, just as it had all those months ago on the eve of his birthday, lying in his bed at the Old Mill, the first time he had been aware of 'touching' magic.
Somewhere close by a solitary owl hooted mournfully, but otherwise all was still. He breathed in the dark scent of the nocturnal wood and the night seemed to mingle with the bright bubbles of air inside him. And then just like that night in Cornwall, he soared up, up through the rippling leaves of the willow, up towards the dark, moonless sky. Below him he was aware now of the lake. He flew on, leaving the shadows of the forest behind him, his sharp eyes focused in on the silhouettes of the Towers ahead. He could see them despite the darkness of the night, as though he was wearing some sort of night vision goggles. He was an eagle; he was flying! Flying...He pulled in his wings and dived towards the lake. “Woooo,” he let out a whoop of joy as he cut through the air. The Towers were forgotten. He just wanted to fly. He pulled out of his dive and swept back up, soaring higher and higher, riding air currents that carried him ever upwards.
And then ahead of him he saw a pale silvery violet light. He flew towards it, overcome by curiosity. It was round, a perfect circle, a hole in the sky...just like a Gateway Entrance. He approached it slowly. There was a sound emanating from it, like waves breaking rhythmically on the shore. “It was like nothing you could ever imagine.” Dar's words echoed in his head. “I saw things...wonderful things...You can learn more there than in a lifetime sitting in a stupid class.” Owen knew in that instant what it was he was looking at – the Gateway to the Dream Lands. And all Tamus' warnings were forgotten.
He stepped through on to a smooth silvery path, no longer an eagle, no longer flying. “You must stay focused at all times.” The words of the sharp-nosed Air Priest, the Ruach, rang in his ears. “Hold firm to your destination.” Owen could almost feel the pale blue eyes boring into him as he remembered the lesson. “And under no circumstances must a Dream Walker stray from the path. This is why the Dream Lands are no place for Novices. This is why...” Owen jumped, his memory cut short by something that had shot by just off the periphery of his vision. He blinked, but kept on walking. He was meant to have some sort of destination in mind, wasn't he, somewhere he was going? Or was that for before, when he was heading for the Towers? He didn't know. A seed of doubt began to grow inside him.
A shadow flickered in the pale, mauve light to the side of the path; then another. Owen walked a little faster. They were only shadows weren't they, like on the cave wall in Aralu – not real. He glanced around nervously but they were gone. But then he heard something, an unmistakeable hiss coming from just behind him! He spun round just in time to catch a glimpse of a scaly black creature, scuttling off into the violet mist. Panic gripped him. He could hear laughter now, high pitched giggling like the Eddleshi, and then a voice. “Mine is the kingdom, the power and the glory...” He tried to run, his heart pounding with terror, but nothing happened. As though in a dream, his legs ran, but he couldn't move. He remained exactly where he was. Above him, directly overhead, a huge orange Eye opened. Owen tried to scream, but no sound came from his mouth.
And then suddenly he saw it, hanging in the air just a few feet to the side of the path, gleaming with a golden radiance – a sword. The Sword!
In that instant, everything else vanished. The shadows, the scaly creatures, the Eye - all gone. All that remained was Owen, the Sword and a deep silence. He turned slowly to face it, took one step, then another, then... “Argh!” He let out a cry of pain and shock, as from out of nowhere a tiny bee appeared, moving so rapidly that he had no time to duck out of the way, no time to react before it buried its sting straight into the middle of his forehead. >
