At the same moment, deep beneath the turbulent waters of the pool, four spirits strained against their earthly bonds, causing wisps of multicoloured steam to rise from the surface where they were whipped away by the storm– feathered seed-heads on a summer breeze.
Within the spinning orb, the beings that had once walked the paths of Brockenhurst Forest, sensing the nearness of the Prime Mover, sent out their anima in a frenzied search for union, impatient for the coming bonding and rebirth, their volatile essences adding focus to the forces already gathered high above the Brockenhurst Mountains. Although now bonded together as one, they fought to gain control over each other– the sun over moon, the yin over yang, the good over evil– their energies whipping the storm to even greater heights.
As promised in Brock's prediction, the new coming was dawning, about to rise from the ashes of the old.
In the subterranean bowels of Fire Rock, five badgers held the future of Boddaert's Realm in their paws.
Grindel, the claws of one paw resting on the jagged edge of the plywood box that had become so much a part of his life since he'd discovered it, challenged Thesa with eyes that accused him of committing some despicable act.
Cherva, at his master's side, glared intently at the white badger lying on the floor, wondering what secrets lay there and whether, even now, if he could use them for his own advancement.
Thesa, rock still, unmoving, the air about him shimmering with cold, his black eyes, almost invisible in the darkness, two pin-pricks of light reflecting the phosphates covering his body, content in the knowledge that he was here to fulfil his destiny.
Between them, Darkburst, head thrown back, the white fur on his throat separated into ruffles that exposed the pink skin beneath in thin stripes.
White on Black– Sun on Moon– Yin on Yang.
Across the chamber, muscles tense with latent hostility, Brokin watched the distant tableau, his mind a turmoil of emotions. He had to stop what was about to happen. This knowledge had grown from an ambiguous thought to a certainty as the storm tore the last remnants of The Tree from the ground, shaking the large chamber around them.
Grindel slashed a sharp claw across the opening that he'd already chewed in the side of the plywood box, parting the oil-impregnated paper lining the inside, allowing them all a brief glimpse into their future.
A dull light reflected back at them from the egg-shaped objects packed tightly within the box. One fell out, spinning on the floor in a lazy circle, twinkling in the reflected light from Thesa's fur, before coming to a jerky stop.
"Don't—" Brokin shouted as Grindel made to pick the object up.
Grindel stopped, looking across the chamber at the boar who dared to order him what to do. He growled low in his throat, reaching out again.
This was the Fire Soul, Grindel was certain of it!
His eyes narrowed as he studied each piece of Boddaert's Magic in turn . . .
. . . Darkburst, his white coat stark against the darker floor– the White Coat . . .
. . . the stone brought back from the shores of Migaro Lake– the Circle of Claws . . .
. . . the strangely shaped egg– the Fire Soul.
Grindel's breathing quickened when he realised that he had only to bring these three pieces together to release the energy of Boddaert's Magic and realise his dream, a dream that had become more than life itself.
Here at last was the power that he had sought for so long, his for the taking!
But even as Grindel's paw touched the object, Brokin ran across the chamber, snatching it from his grasp. Roaring in rage, Grindel slashed Brokin with his claws, knocking him off his feet.
The object flew from Brokin's grasp, rolling across the floor until it came to rest at Cherva's feet. The big badger reached down and picked it up, backing across the chamber towards the box of WW II grenades.
This was his chance at last. He held the magic—
Grindel and Brokin fought near the entrance to the chamber, both lost to the depths of their rage, thrusting and parrying with flashing claws as they tried to kill each other.
Thesa smiled, the air from his mouth frosting the fur along his snout. He stepped forward, looking down at Darkburst before extending his paw and touching the white fur on the young badger's injured leg with the tip of a claw. He nodded as a line of ice encased it, feeling his life force slipping from him. Then he threw himself down on Darkburst's body, covering it completely with his own.
Unaware of the events taking place around him, Cherva held the ring of the strangely shaped egg between his teeth and pulled, his eyes widening as the clip pinged free and fell to the floor. Holding the object between his paws, he sniffed the strange indentations covering its surface, wondering what they were and how they could be made to release their magic.
Unexpectedly a flash of light seared right through Cherva's body, shrapnel shredding Thesa's black fur, covering the body beneath him with a bloody mess. Then the rest of the grenades exploded, blowing Brokin and Grindel along the concrete tunnel, covering them both with tons of debris.
*
Far from Fire Rock, beyond Low Meadow, beneath a slim ash tree, at the edge of an undulating field, a pregnant sow watched the cloudless sky, wondering whether her special boar was also watching the same stars.
She hoped with all her heart that he was, because that would mean they were sharing something, even though they were so far apart.
Sighing gently, Brightness turned back to her lonely burrow.
Perhaps he would come during the next moon-cycle, or maybe the cycle after that.
*
Much farther away, where the shores of Migaro Lake lapped gently at the surrounding fields, an elderly boar stopped his eternal search for food and raised his head for a moment.
Had he heard something or were his old ears finally failing him?
But no, there on the horizon he could see something.
Slikit squinted his eyes from habit, but he needn't have bothered this time because he had no trouble making out the great fireball that had suddenly erupted into the sky, blotting out everything before it.
So strong was the blast that even the boiling storm rolled back in reaction to its hot gases, tamed for once by a stronger force.
Slikit blinked his eyes at the black clouds forming over Brockenhurst Sett and a great sadness filled the old badger's heart, as though he'd unexpectedly lost a close friend. He sat back on his haunches, wondering why he suddenly felt so alone.
Shaking his head against the coldness that had descended on him, Slikit began to grumble his way along the overgrown pathway, his cracked old voice fading as the wind from the west grew in intensity.
If you enjoyed this book please take a moment to rate it for other readers:
https://www.boddaert.co.uk/fire-rock-reviews/
About the Author
Peter Barns live in the Highlands of Scotland.
Retired, he now spends his time writing
and refurbishing houses.
Connect with him online
Website: boddaert.co.uk
Blog: boddaert.co.uk
Twitter: twitter.com/peterbarns
Facebook: facebook.com/BoddaertBooks
Lulu: lulu.com/spotlight/boddaert
Also available by the same author
Payback
7 Days In May
The Gastropoda Imperative
Fire Rock
Hobart at Home
Tales From The Cottage
Love Is
Hole
Tears
Burnt Toast
Cautionary Tales
Peter's Twittclass
Ebook Downloads
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends