Warriors of Ethandun by N. M. Browne Read Free Book Online Page A

selfish. Would such a request be granted? She wanted power again, that was all. But she wasn’t opening the Veil, Dan was, and he wanted to raise it for her; his motives were utterly selfless.
    Dan wasn’t listening. He’d understood. He could do still. His eyes had taken on a slightly unfocused look as he continued to rub the orb. Ursula felt the magic catch, latch on to something bigger, call to it, and suddenly the first faint tendrils of yellow smoke began to form and thicken and grow, swirling in front of Dan like the birth of a tornado. It was not quite the way it had formed for her or for Rhonwen, but then neither of them had ever raised the Veil using a theatre-prop orb.
    â€˜I think that sometimes it needs blood – the druids thought so,’ Ursula said. Her heart was beating wildly as she felt the power grow.
    â€˜Don’t worry about that,’ Dan said with a grimace, and she could see that his left hand seeped blood as if thesmooth round surface of the crystal ball had somehow cut it.
    â€˜Ursula, this feels wrong. I don’t think we should go.’ He did not look at her. She knew he was holding on to the Veil, that he was still not entirely with her. Even with the magic of the orb, he still had to exert his own control over the now billowing mist.
    â€˜I have to, Dan. I need to.’ She couldn’t look at him, but ran straight towards the swirling mist. Magic was calling to her and she had no power to resist.

Chapter Eight
    Dan had no choice but to follow Ursula, and quickly, through the Veil. He had been here before – that first time they’d encountered the seething yellow mist. He grabbed the package that was Bright Killer and, still clutching the orb against his chest, launched himself through the mist before it dispersed. He shut his eyes and held his breath. He hated the Veil – the way the oily droplets that made it clung to him, the way it tasted – but he could not leave Ursula. She was not herself. He had seen her fight before, but what she’d done to Lucy was out of character. Something was wrong with her and he did not know what; he was frightened for her.
    He knew enough about the workings of the Veil to be unsurprised when he emerged from its greasy clutches alone.
    There was no sign of Ursula. He had emerged from the magical yellow mist into an ordinary grey damp and stifling fog, a fog that blanketed everything in an ominous silence. He shook his head as if to unstop his ears and shivered. His school sweatshirt wasn’t warm andwithin one pace he found himself knee-deep in slimy mud. He lifted Bright Killer above his head to keep it dry but his left hand was slick with blood and the orb slipped from his hand to land with a decisive plop in the bog beside him. Shit. In panic he rooted around for it with his foot. That was a stupid move. All that happened was that his foot caught in some reeds. He might have called out for help, but he did not know where he was and in his experience it was not a good idea to advertise your vulnerability to strangers. His sword was valuable in any world and he had no idea if he could fight with one foot buried in a bog. There was solid ground within a stretched arm’s reach and he carefully laid Bright Killer on that. There was nothing else for it but to take a deep breath and plunge under the icy water to attempt to release his foot.
    It was hard to see anything in the murky darkness. His eyes stung. He found his foot and the roots that held it trapped. He pulled and wriggled and worked it free but his lungs were screaming by the time he surfaced. He spluttered and gagged. The water was foul. It was pointless to search for the orb – it would have sunk into the mud, but he knew he had to try. He put his face into the water again and opened his eyes. He could see nothing. He surfaced again and shook the slime from his hair. Within seconds of arriving in this unknown place he had lost any hope he