sorry . . . I didnât mean to be rude.
I didnât feel rudeness, only affection and a need for reassurance , said Ava. She answered his unspoken question. Yes, I am a shape-changer. Humans are more comfortable with shapes they recognize, so when on Gaia with you, I am a hawk or a woman. Tonight we fly, so I am a hawk.
What must I do to help? asked Owen quietly.
You must watch the past, then gather the main elements of your earthâs Old Magic and use them to unlock the secret of the stones. This will release my circlet. Ava shook out her feathers, stretched and flexed her wings. It is time to fly, child. Follow me. She flew off the tower and headed toward the Stone Circle.
Owen gulped. The ground was a long way down. He had flown out of the window on impulse, but now he had to launch himself off a high tower. In the first flush of the magic he had forgotten how much he hated heights.
A feeling of strength and safety flooded over him. You are my chosen helper, Owen. Another Magic Child like Chantel. You will not fall.
Owen closed his eyes, gathered his courage and tried to jump into space. He couldnât move.
Owen, do you trust me?
Er . . . yes. Owenâs voice shook. He tried to block out a vision of his body smashing into the ground.
Believe in the magic and believe in yourself. You can fly.
Ava swooped down and pushed Owen in the middle of his back.
He tumbled off the tower yelling, kicking and flapping frantically.
The air streamed past him, but there was no sense of the ground coming up to meet him. Owen opened one eye. He was high above the earth. âThanks, Ava,â he yelled, forgetting to mindspeak in his astonishment. He followed her.
Below them, the stones surrounded the dreaming village. Ava began to trace their circle.
Owen tucked in behind her. He flapped when Ava flapped and glided when she glided. They flew faster. The Circle below seemed to turn, or was it them? The midnight sky whirled and the wind rushed past him, flattening his feathers . . . HIS FEATHERS? Owen was a boy no more. His feet were talons. His arms were wings. His nose was a beak. He was a hawk.
Their speed increased. Round and round they circled Night and day blurred as they hurtled through countless sunrises and sunsets, until Avaâs wingbeats slowed.
Owen gasped. A snowflake landed on his beak and a chilly winter wind buffeted him. They were wheeling high above the Avebury Circle, but gone were the village and the surrounding fields and downs. The land below was forested, an enormous oak forest that flowed over hills and valleys as far as he could see.
Small gaps showed in the forest. Occasionally the top of a hill was cleared and a simple village of huts, surrounded by a protective fence, huddled on the summit. Several hunting trails could be seen, and a dry streambed, but the biggest clearing held the Stone Circle.
The Great Circle was magnificent, covered in snow.
The ditch surrounding it was twice as deep as the modern one. The high embankment that Owen had walked gleamed white against the dark forest. It dipped in four places to create four imposing entrances, one for each direction. From two entrances, pairs of stones marched through the forest in wide cleared avenues. One ended suddenly, but the other avenue marched for over a mile, linking the Great Circle to a tiny stone circle on a far hill. That circle contained a small round hut.
Most striking of all were the features within the Great Circle. For it was not one circle, but three. Two smaller circles stood side by side within the gigantic outer circle. The outer circle was not quite complete. A dark hole yawned in a gap where one stone was missing.
Owen struggled to make sense of all he saw.
You are looking at the past , said Ava. Observe silently. We are seeing my Circle as it was four thousand years ago. You cannot be part of its history. You can only be part of its future. A past ritual magically hid my circlet forever. Observe the
I didnât feel rudeness, only affection and a need for reassurance , said Ava. She answered his unspoken question. Yes, I am a shape-changer. Humans are more comfortable with shapes they recognize, so when on Gaia with you, I am a hawk or a woman. Tonight we fly, so I am a hawk.
What must I do to help? asked Owen quietly.
You must watch the past, then gather the main elements of your earthâs Old Magic and use them to unlock the secret of the stones. This will release my circlet. Ava shook out her feathers, stretched and flexed her wings. It is time to fly, child. Follow me. She flew off the tower and headed toward the Stone Circle.
Owen gulped. The ground was a long way down. He had flown out of the window on impulse, but now he had to launch himself off a high tower. In the first flush of the magic he had forgotten how much he hated heights.
A feeling of strength and safety flooded over him. You are my chosen helper, Owen. Another Magic Child like Chantel. You will not fall.
Owen closed his eyes, gathered his courage and tried to jump into space. He couldnât move.
Owen, do you trust me?
Er . . . yes. Owenâs voice shook. He tried to block out a vision of his body smashing into the ground.
Believe in the magic and believe in yourself. You can fly.
Ava swooped down and pushed Owen in the middle of his back.
He tumbled off the tower yelling, kicking and flapping frantically.
The air streamed past him, but there was no sense of the ground coming up to meet him. Owen opened one eye. He was high above the earth. âThanks, Ava,â he yelled, forgetting to mindspeak in his astonishment. He followed her.
Below them, the stones surrounded the dreaming village. Ava began to trace their circle.
Owen tucked in behind her. He flapped when Ava flapped and glided when she glided. They flew faster. The Circle below seemed to turn, or was it them? The midnight sky whirled and the wind rushed past him, flattening his feathers . . . HIS FEATHERS? Owen was a boy no more. His feet were talons. His arms were wings. His nose was a beak. He was a hawk.
Their speed increased. Round and round they circled Night and day blurred as they hurtled through countless sunrises and sunsets, until Avaâs wingbeats slowed.
Owen gasped. A snowflake landed on his beak and a chilly winter wind buffeted him. They were wheeling high above the Avebury Circle, but gone were the village and the surrounding fields and downs. The land below was forested, an enormous oak forest that flowed over hills and valleys as far as he could see.
Small gaps showed in the forest. Occasionally the top of a hill was cleared and a simple village of huts, surrounded by a protective fence, huddled on the summit. Several hunting trails could be seen, and a dry streambed, but the biggest clearing held the Stone Circle.
The Great Circle was magnificent, covered in snow.
The ditch surrounding it was twice as deep as the modern one. The high embankment that Owen had walked gleamed white against the dark forest. It dipped in four places to create four imposing entrances, one for each direction. From two entrances, pairs of stones marched through the forest in wide cleared avenues. One ended suddenly, but the other avenue marched for over a mile, linking the Great Circle to a tiny stone circle on a far hill. That circle contained a small round hut.
Most striking of all were the features within the Great Circle. For it was not one circle, but three. Two smaller circles stood side by side within the gigantic outer circle. The outer circle was not quite complete. A dark hole yawned in a gap where one stone was missing.
Owen struggled to make sense of all he saw.
You are looking at the past , said Ava. Observe silently. We are seeing my Circle as it was four thousand years ago. You cannot be part of its history. You can only be part of its future. A past ritual magically hid my circlet forever. Observe the
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