SFEAR (Originele, Engelstalige Fantasy door Martijn)

[Martinulus]

Gewoon gecopy-paste uit mijn word doc en een beetje opgemaakt, maar misschien is de layout niet helemaal goed overgekomen.

SFEAR: the Secret Faculty

Characters
Theodore, also called Teddy, 16 years old
Sarah, 15 years old
James, 16 years old
Dr. M. Earling, an old teacher/researcher
Lantun, a multi-purpose gnome
Dr. Arthur Dragonpen, also called Art, a 32-years old magologist,
Biggur, his Golem Gnome

CHAPTER ONE:
SFEAR, an introduction

     It was an ordinary, quiet summer day in Oxford. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and in a garden three teenagers bathed in the light of the sun. Their names were Theodore (Teddy for his friends), Sarah and James. It had been like that for a day or three, and nothing showed any progress against a wave of cool. "Well," James had said at first. "Thumbs up to the Greenhouse Effect!" But now the heat in one of the hottest summers in history would be there to stay for about 2 weeks. And that nobody would like at all.

     Another desperate look for forecasts of cooler weather compelled them to watch the BBC News, which only Teddy regularly did. Forest fires in Middle-England were the headline, especially the fact that dousing them was nearly impossible. Every time the Fire Brigade came in, the fire somehow moved to another forest. Nothing unusual for this time of the year, and for this temperature.

     The next day gave no rain, no cool, and it being a school day made it even worse. But on that particular school day, their teacher of Chemistry, an old, absent-minded and ridiculously intelligent man called doctor Martin Earling, approached them after class. "Nice day, isn't it?" he said, seeming unaffected by the heat despite his three-part suit and a head full of hair. "If it were me, it would be warmer, but it seems YOU."- he put the emphasis on the word you. "- need some distraction. Would you aid me in my study of some extraordinary events?

     Teddy, being the proud owner of a curiosity unmatched throughout their school, agreed first, then the others followed. Who knows what a man like Earling was up to after class? He certainly seemed interesting enough to constitute an adventure all on his own. They followed him throughout the city center, until they reached an old tower at one of the university colleges. Above its great wooden door were two words in Latin: "Con Jure". Earling recited the words quickly into the intercom hanging next to the door, and the door swung wide open with a slight creak. Behind it, they could see a grand hall like any university building had, which had two staircase spiraling without crossing eachother into the tower above. This was a building you could easily get lost in, they knew.

     They entered into the building, amazed by what they saw, and followed one of the splendid white staircases until they came upon an office at the first floor of the tower. Earling motioned them to enter the office and get seated, and after he himself had entered he sat down behind a small, messy desk with old-fashioned pens and paper on it. No computers, not in the whole room, or they should have been obscured by the mess it was in the room.

     Their attraction was pulled away from the mess in the room by Earling. "Welcome to the Secret Faculty of Energy and Arcane Research, abbreviated SFEAR," he said. "I have a lot to explain, I think. Let me first ask you: have you ever wondered about what has been happening these weeks: fires that miraculously appear in forest when in another forest a fire is getting doused, the continuous, sudden heat, it all seems unnatural." He paused, and as crazy grin appeared on his face, he continued: "Even better: they ARE unnatural." The strange usage of the word "better" was frowned upon by the three teenagers, but Earling paid it no heed. "They are not caused by nature. They are caused by magic. We-" He was interrupted by a faint snigger from James, who said aloud: "Magic? What gibberish, you old fool? What kind of psychiatr-". He took a slight nudge from Sarah, and Earling could once again continue.

     "Magic," said Earling. "is no fairy tale. It was used throughout history, until the Renaissance ended and it was abandoned as a form of science, like alchemy was. It was only used as a weapon and a tool, and the magic in this world was forgotten. We at SFEAR are unique in the way that we've always specialized in magic and its history, from the founding of Oxford University onward. The reason why we keep it secret is that magic is both the energy that drives our world and the power to alter that energy. If a maleficent user found out about it, we would be screwed, forgive me for saying it so directly."

     Now all three were excited. Magic in the world! It would be impossible, but as Earling finished his story, it somehow became likely. Strange indeed. Sarah was the first to breach a silence of approximately 2 minutes after the introduction by Earling, and said: "And I take it we are to help? How?" She was eager and enthusiastic to start off learning more about this. Doctor Earling emitted a slight cough. "Ah, youthful enthusiasm," he said. "Well, if you would like to help, you are welcome. In fact, you are three of the only ones who can. You are young enough to believe that magic exists, but old enough to research it. Not the whole youth of today can, because they do not believe in magic."

     He took up the phone on his little desk and began murmuring into the horn. It sounded like. "murmurmurmurmurmur-badges-murmurmurmurmur-three-murmur." A minute or so later, three badges popped out of nowhere left of the horn and fell into Earling's outstretched left hand. "Handy it is, eh?" he asked. This was magic, and as such the three could only nod. "These are for you. They are your badges."

     The first pass he gave to Teddy. It read

     S.F.E.A.R. Oxford University

     Theodore "Teddy" Studelings

           Aged 16 years old

           Student of Magology PWIZ

     "What does PWIZ mean?" asked Teddy, curious and confused at the same time. "Yes, hmm..." said Earling. "The card has sensed that you are a Potential Wizard." Now Teddy was really amazed, and it continued as the second card, tinged a pastel tinge of green, was given to Sarah. It read nearly the same (except for names of course), but instead of "PWIZ" there was the code "DRUP", which Earling explained to mean "Druid Potential." James received a grey card, and much to the amusement of Teddy and Sarah, received the predicate of "X" meaning "Not able to classify".

     "Keep them well," said Earlings, "for even while they are enchanted to return to you once you lose them, they give you access to all SFEAR Libraries and will allow you access at the building door. The password is "Con Jure" or "Conjure." He winked, and showed them out. "Now get some rest. Come back tomorrow if you want to study."

     And it became apparent from their conversation afterwards that they did want to study Magology. Furthermore, Teddy noticed that "Con Jure" and "Conjure" was an ingenious joke, simply brilliant! When they came walking out of the SFEAR tower full of excitement, surprisingly enough the sun was already setting. Tomorrow they would study, and they had better rest sufficiently.

     That night was a dark night in Oxford, the full moon being obscured completely by clouds. In that darkness, a figure sneaked outside the SFEAR tower. He did not carry a badge, but he entered the building without the complex magical detection system noticing anything. And nobody within noticed, because this night, it was one of the rare occasions that the Magologists did not work throughout the night. And into the deserted building, the figure had come, to protect and enhance his powers. And nobody could stop him as he committed his deed.

     The next morning, it was the first Saturday of the holidays, and the three students met outside the SFEAR building. After a short talk, they quickly went inside the building to find Earling and a couple of fellow Magologists standing in the Great Hall. They looked distressed, even fearful of what apparently had happened. The three asked Earling what happened, and he answered, his voice trembling: "Why, a most dangerous book has been stolen, and nobody noticed! The thief can wreak havoc even by reading a single word from the book, and we can't spare anyone!" He raised his meager arms in panic.

     "Wrong," answered Terry with a grin and a tactful undertone in his voice. "You can spare us." Earling did not calm down, however gracious this offer was supposed to be. Instead, he tumbled even deeper into panic. "You? Impossible! You don't even know well what magic is!"

     "We can learn," said Sarah.

     "Okay, I will see to it you have everything you need," answered Earling. "Lantun!"

     An animated, small, blue-tinged robot-like creature made of various contraptions, bottles and other mechanical components came hobbling into the hall down the stairs, almost tripping in its steps. In a small and almost strangely high-pitched voice, it said: "You called, Martin?"

     The three students could only gasp at the creature, and in their amazement asked Earling to explain. And explain the magologist did. "This is Lantun," he said. "He is a Multi-Functional Gnome, forgive me if he startled you. He may be small, but he can come in handy during field work."

     Sarah bowed down to take a better look at the multi-functional Gnome. "So he will be accompanying us?" she said. "How sweet he looks..." Lantun startled her by suddenly speaking. "Yes, hello." He said (or rather squeaked) again in his high-pitched voice. "Pleased to make your acquaintance. My name is Lantun, a gnome of about a hundred functions, among which I can be a lamp, a lexicon and a phone. I will come in useful to you, I promise."

     But Teddy said in a tactful remark: "How will we take him with us? I guess a multi-functional Gnome hobbling with us will distress passers-by." He laughed. "I almost hear them saying: 'Aaaaah! A talking bottle!'".

     Earling answered by producing a kind of small laptop bag with the letters GNOMEON on it. "This," he said. "A Gnome-carrying bag. Come Lantun, hop in!"

     Lantun jumped into the bag and apparently he did land a little awkward, for he emitted a tiny squeak when landing in the bag.

     "About right it is holiday," James said skeptically, but he was tugged away by a totally enthusiastic Sarah who wanted to leave immediately. "Bye!" called Earling, "we'll talk over Lantun, I'm sure!"

[Martinulus]

CHAPTER TWO:
Bath, Bogs and Dogs

     Lantun had been very clear that the culprit had fled to Devon and Cornwall, but where would the villain have hidden? So far, no hiding place could be discovered without knowledge of the villain's whereabouts and when pressed about those Lantun did always deny knowledge of the stolen book. The green fields of Devon stretched out before them, James decided that "the villain could be damn'd everywhere", and everyone acknowledged. Lantun astonished all with his capacity to function as a laptop for surfing the World Wide Web, after which a rumour about spectral hounds showing up again led them nowhere else than the Dartmoor National Park, Devon.

     Dartmoor, as you might know, was a very creepy place of beautiful yet savage marshes. On this beautiful day, however, with the sun still shining bright in a hell-blue sky, one would not say that Dartmoor was such a place where you ought to keep a compass on your person at all times, and neither did any of the three students think of it. Even Lantun shut his mouth about the creepiness of the Park and began singing (or rather whistling with words) "It's a wonderful world" loudly. As nobody protested, they ventured deep into the heart of Dartmoor, through plains and moors and small patches of trees amongst the wet, meadowy ground. As they reached an old oak, dusk was approaching fast, and they decided to set up camp for the night. At night, Dartmoor's beauty turned almost feral and the initial cheerfulness vanished with the sun gone under until the place had been returned to its feral creepiness. As Lantun showed off his function to become a warm electric campfire, a thick mist rose from the moor, shrouding all things in the camp in darkness. Then suddenly, the blue liquid in Lantun's belly turned blazing red. Worried about his health, the three companions soon found out that the liquid was CH6, a carbon hydride called methicin, made only by magic and a reagens to magic. The mist was thus magical, not mundane, and it was reasonably caused by the villain they were after all the time, who probably had something he did not want to have seen.

     A howl broke the long silence. It was not a normal howl. It was a ghastly, low and artificial howl, as if it was something horrid howling at them. It approached them, circled them until two fires, glowing like the eyes of a wolf seeing its prey, appeared in the mist. Then a growl followed, and they had convinced themselves that this could well be the end of their adventure,  when James jumped up and swung a cowering Lantun unto his shoulders and run with greatest disregard for the squealing little gnome towards the fiery eyes. In the light, the ghastly head of an albino wolf became visible, a wolf with razor-sharp teeth. It snarled at James like a hyena, but he did not heed the danger and leapt straight past the wolf, drawing its attention, and as it ran after them and neared them, Lantun's methicin was even redder than the most blazing red you've ever seen. It had been a magical spectral apparition all along, and again there was this slight thought that the villain had conjured it. It seemed to be chasing them across the park, but it was clear that one direction was predominant. In the mist, a black-clad figure could be seen, in its hand a silver-bound book appeared. The silver reflected the cold blue of the moon, and the man had something ominous about him. It could now be seen that he wore a black pull with a hood over his head and black jeans, and no single part of his body could be seen except his mouth. Now words sounded from his hooded head: "Well, well, what have you caught me, Spectrum? A boy and..." From the villain's movements, he was a bit surprised by the observation he had just made. A silence fell. His breath was now clearly audible. "A gnome?" he continued. "Could the great faculty spare no more than this?" He let out a laugh, which sent a shiver down James's spine. "Very good. They won't be bothering us. Let's leave the park. I have what I want." He lifted his gloved hand, and with a thundering clap, he was gone. Now James was alone, stupefied by the thundering disappearance of the villain. Cold, lonely and even afraid, he went to sleep. A deep sleep.

     When he woke, he saw the mist had not cleared up. Lantun was bowing over him, and his face startled James. "Good morning," squeaked the tiny gnome, and he tried to put a smile on his little face. James was not convinced by this that he should be cheerful, and skeptically answered: "What a good morning it is, eh, Lantun? Without Sarah and Teddy, in the middle of a misty moor... cold, damp, not seeing more than 5 feet... I couldn't wish for more, could I?" Lantun was visibly offended by this answer to a greeting he thought to be nice with. He even sobbed a little, which looked a little weird because there were no tears to creep over his face from his eyes. "Hey there, little," James heard a familiar voice say from behind Lantun. "Has James not been nice to you?" James lifted his head to look over Lantun's shoulder and saw Sarah put a hand on Lantun's shoulder to hush him. Standing behind her was Teddy, who judging from his face had not slept very well that night. It was thin-stretched, and it was from this weary face that Teddy grinned as he looked at James and said, his glasses damp with water from walking through the mist: "Well, James, have you had a nice night? Lantun apparently had, but what have you done to him?" James looked at Teddy and answered: "Yes, Teddy, I've never slept better. As for Lantun, I don't know what happened to him."

     After the sharing of stories, James knew why Teddy was so weary at all: he had constantly watched out for Sarah's safety in the creepy atmosphere of last night. Teddy refused to comment on this, however, so all information came from Sarah, who had laid down in the tent all night since James had ran off with Lantun to chase the spectral hound. Now they had to be off again, but where to? The villain said he had gone out of the park, but what was he after? What had he been after that night? They sat down on the wet ground, knowing that they were stuck, and saddened by it. The sadness was broken by Lantun, who loudly and cheerfully began to sing. When pressed for information by an angry gaze from James, he let them know that that was his ringtone and that Earling called them. "Hello," said the well-known voice. "Where are you?" They were astonished when they noticed the voice came from Lantun's mouth. Startled a bit, they said to Earling: "In Dartmoor, sitting on a rock, having found and lost the villain." Earling spoke again, seeming surprised by the facts that were given. "Oh. Who is he?" They relayed all important information to Earling about the hound, the villain and the misty night in Dartmoor. "Hmm...." said Earling thoughtfully. "I personally have no idea were he could have gone, but as the Southwest has been a land of magic ever since Merlin was buried in a cave here, he would have something to look for in this area, so you should definitely visit some magical places and bustling cities in the region and look for clues. Might I suggest you go to Bath first? From what I've heared, you surely need it." He laughed heartily. "I have a friend there, a fellow magologist. His name is Arthur Dragonpen. I will phone him that you are coming. Good luck." Then Earling disconnected and they went on, hiking to the nearest bus stop, where they stepped in a full bus, transferring a few times to make their way towards Bath. It was a colourful reflection of Europe and the UK in the bus: Dutchmen on holidays, youngsters going to amuse themselves (as life in the few moor villages was pretty dull) and of course the normal men and women who, regardless of the school holidays, went to their offices in the city.

     They entered into the city and followed the directions Lantun gave them. He knocked them, for he could not be seen and it was like pointing, describing, asking whether to go there, and the number of knocks from the GNOMEON bag meant "yes" or "no". I think it suffices when I tell you this wasn't a very efficient method, but after a few circles around the city, they arrived at an old building in the city center, in the vicinity of Bath Abbey, where they were received by Arthur Dragonpen.

     This doctor Arthur Dragonpen looked rather normal for a magologist: first of all, he was not as old as they had expected him to be. Rather than being in his fifties (like Earling), he was in his early thirties with messy neck-length brown hair and a handsomely combed beard. He wore a green jacket and trousers colored like a brown leaf in fall. A beige-tinted shirt completed this nature-tinted suit, and the fact that there was no tie around his neck made him look easy-going and casual. He welcomed them with open arms and a smile on his face, joking about "Earnest Earling" having sent them here during their holidays. When the three students addressed him as doctor Dragonpen, he dismissed the title, and with a wink he asked them to call him Art. With all greetings exchanged and inquiries made, he showed them his home, which looked normal at first. At least, it looked normal until they walked into a messy study with large old-style windows and all sorts of queer tools lying on the floor that were undoubtedly of use to a magologist. While the three were gasping at the wonderful sight of the study, Art walked towards the cramped bookshelf in the corner of the room and took a book from it, opening a secret door. Following Art through the door, they came into a small, dusty chamber that, if the bookshelf could already be considered cramped, looked like if a bomb had just exploded in the room. Bottles lay shattered across the ground, and the queer tools in the study were outdone in their queerness by the tools around this room: they included a cradle of Newton going in a circle, a true perpetuum mobile and, most important of all, a Golem Gnome. He looked like a very large version of Lantun, about the size of a large teddybear. Their little gnome friend, awed by his size, kneeled to him like a farmer to a king. The Golem Gnome walked past Lantun with a smile upon his face and shook hands with the three students, saying in a low mechanic voice that he was Biggur, a gnome of 250+ functions. "Yes," said Art with a pitiful tone in his voice. "I'm glad I have Biggur. He can also vacuum the house, but I've never told my wife about my profession." What followed they all guessed instantly, and they said as with one voice: "and if you would, she wouldn't believe you!" They looked at eachother's faces and laughed until Art cut it off and said: "Exactemundo. I said to her you were Earling's students on a geology fieldwork excursion." They couldn't cease laughing. Earling and geology... that didn't compute at all. Art, however, was not amused this time. "So don't talk about magic," he said with an earnest face. "And keep Lantun in this storeroom. You'll sleep in my study." Not that Lantun did mind the doctor's second remark: he had already become staunch friends with Biggur, and the two of them had decided to play catch-me-if-you-can and hide-and-seek, running across the room in flashes of blue, gold and silver.

     From below the stairs, Morgan, Art's wife, called them for lunch. In the following hour, nothing special happened except for the skinny black-haired woman complaining about them having dirty hands at dinner and how bad it was for your health, so after lunch the three teenagers took a quick shower, changed into clean clothes and went into town with Lantun and Art as guides for a quick "scenic tour" of Bath. In truth, this tour was meant to determine whether the villain was somewhere in town. As they passed through half of the inner city without a sign of the black-hooded enigma, the cover was used for real: Art made it an enjoyable scenic tour, and he enjoyed telling them all about the cathedral, the royal crescent and many more touristic sights, but wherever they went: no sign of the villain.

     When they returned to Art's home, they gathered in the study to create a grand plan of action. "You know," Art said. "Magic has been in the air in the Southwest ever since Merlin disappeared on this soil. Everything here reminds of him, to observant eyes. Stonehenge, Tintagel, the vale of the white horse, even the Eden Project. The villain must be after something powerful linked to Merlin." Lantun spoke after the statement from Art. "Now what is he after? I may be able to tell you." All gasped as they recognized the voice. It was not Lantun's squeaky voice, but the creaky voice of Earling. "That book," the elder magologist said. "Is the summit of our faculty's knowledge. It contains spells that are powerful, but these spells are dangerous to the magician using them as it would burn him and his environment alive with warmth. I can say no more, but ask Art." Arthur Dragonpen scraped his throat and coughed. "Presumably he is after an object that Merlin used for his spells. I don't know what it is, but it is here in the Southwest. It is said that Merlin had a talisman or something he released the warmth into, as had Morgan le Fey." After getting no further on what this talisman would be, they decided to take a look at the pinnacle objects of Merlin's magical magnificence.

[Martinulus]

CHAPTER THREE:
Dawn over Stonehenge

     Their first fieldwork they did at Stonehenge. Of course the three students knew about the huge Neolithic stone circle, but they had never seen it, nor did they know more of its origin than that it had always been there. But then even Art, a true mythohistorical genius, didn't seem to know its exact connection to Arthurian legends or primitive Stone Age cultures. In fact, the place was shrouded in mystery.

     Late in the morning, they had departed Bath in Art's car, a somewhat middle-aged Ford. The journey would take a few hours, according to Art, but in fact lasted a while longer as Art took a few of his already infamous "scenic routes". Nevertheless, the presumable length of the journey did not make the atmosphere less cheerful: Art and Sarah had a lengthy discussion over the use of magic in development, Teddy was reading the visitor's guide to Lantun, who clearly was not satisfied with the guide's coverage and commented a lot on what he thought were flaws in its content, and James was sleeping through all the noise. Suddenly, however, as they came closer and closer to the ancient monument, Lantun's methicin developed a red tinge inside, eventually enveloping the whole of his belly. The only thing Art said at first was "gotcha!", but when he was pressed about the meaning of the methicin turning red at that particular moment, he explained. "You know," he said. "According to most magological and mythohistorical literature, Merlin was involved in the building of Stonehenge as we know it. However, this whole area has been full of these kinds of strange monuments since long before Merlin's time, and even Stonehenge was already there. Magical reagentia indicate an outstanding magical presence in the area, but we don't know anything. Presumably the concentration of monuments has something to do with it, but of course..." Art was interrupted by a loud snore from James, who was the only one not interested in the talk. After Teddy gave him a nudge, James grumbled and slept on quietly. Art didn't have much time to explain further, however, as they arrived at the site in 5 minutes. Looking at his pocketwatch, Art was visibly startled by the time, and mumbled something about him wondering why it was so late. When James inquired after the time with a large yawn, Lantun said: "When I have finished saying this, it will be five hours, twenty-four minutes, thirty-seven seconds and a hundred-and-one milliseconds per meriniem." The site had closed already, but that was not a problem: you'll be surprised how much a university pass can do to the local staff. The custodian, a friendly old man, received them and offered them a dinner, during which he inquired about their business. Art took the chance to explain to the custodian that he was Dr. Arthur Dragonpen, PhD in astronomy at Oxford University, and that he was studying the stellar alignment of Stonehenge for his newest publication on the stellar mechanisms of the Neolithic era. The custodian, interested at once, offered them nightly access to the site for the night and the right to make a camp in the carpark. After Art had extensively thanked him for his hospitality and praised his kindness, the custodian showed them to the henge. After the custodian had gone, Art took his time to explain the magologically significant, peculiar features of the monument to them, such as the bluestones which always seemed to remain warm and the precise alignment of the heelstone and altarstone. As the sun set on Salisbury Plain, its red rays cast an almost sinister light to the henge. Soon, it would be too dark to look for the villain or any scientifical evidence of the site's former uses.

     On that same night, in the same location, a shadowy figure sneaked silently up the hill, climbing over fences and carefully avoiding any obstacles. He had come to the conclusion that before he used his new-found power, he needed something hidden in this location. The magologists were a continuing nuisance, but they were quite amusing to him, how they managed to find him again and again. He walked up close, secure by the fact that his magic was concealed in the magic aura emitted by the monument, and took a look at the 3 children and the doctor, who were presumably trying to futilely find things. Their knowledge was too orderly. He watched, and waited.

     Art walked cluelessly around the henge, with Lantun and Teddy following his every pace. He examined the bluestones one by one, when after a few rounds, when he was bound to give up, gave an exulting cry of joy. "I've found it, by Merlin!" he shouted out loud. "I've found it!". When they asked him what exactly he had found, he noted the peculiar way the bluestones, naturally not too much effected by the sunset, were also glowing a faint red. Art theorised the red glow had to be a sort of magical phenomenon. What he did thereafter, the three students did not quite understand. As he turned to touch one of the bluestones with his right hand, he gestured with his left as if he was trying to see something and murmured some inaudible words. When he had finished this quaint ritual with the word "aluzabra", a light sprang from his left hand. After a while, questioning gazes from James at Lantun made the gnome explain what it was. "Oh, it's nothing special," he explained. "Just a simple intralucity spell." After a few moments of silence, he added: "though why he does that while touching the stone is a riddle to me." Just as Lantun had finished his sentence, Sarah gasped and pointed at Art. "Look!" she said. The others looked that way and saw a red light emitting from the stone, as if it had become much and much warmer, and it somehow went into a circle until all the bluestones emitted the same glow. Then the glow dimmed, and so did Art's spell. The magologist, having come aware of the light, touched the other stones, and he was childishly, inexplicably happy. He jumped around, laughing and cheering, like a child who just has learned to ride a bike. Then Art came running towards them. "Teddy! Sarah! James! Lantun!" he exclaimed in an excited, high-strung voice. "I've discovered a catalyzing mechanism! The circle of bluestones store warmth from magic, making you potentially more powerful in magic!" Then he went on and about this being an asset to magology all around the world, but Teddy interrupted him. "So now we know the function of the bluestones," he said. "But what about the Altarstone, the Heelstone, the Station Stones and the rest? A catalyst sure is cool, but I'm sure the rest isn't pure decoration."

     As the four magologists searched for clues of the function of the other stones, the dark figure on the hillside still watched them. For a moment he was filled with a sort of malicious happiness and irony. They had come here to stop him, but in fact they had only advanced his cause by discovering these "catalysts". They could be of use later on. If they did not discover him, he was certain they would discover even more, and he would use those discoveries to prove the arrogant faculty wrong. He might cheer now, but surely that fool of a Dragonpen would be less keen, when his plans came to fruition. In the knowledge of his concealing magic, he decided to watch.

     In the meantime, night had fallen over Stonehenge, and the magologists began their descent down the hill to the carpark, where they found a tent already waiting for them. The custodian had been very kind to them, they noticed, and they made sure to repay him if they had the chance. They turned on Lantun's alarm clock function to awaken them at dawn and went to sleep.

     It was just before dawn that Lantun gave a loud imitation of a crying cock, and was smashed on the head by a sleepy James to snooze him. Nevertheless, the lazy boy was dragged out of his bed by the other three of the company, and they ascended the hill again in the last dark of the night. When they arrived at the monument again, morning had broken. The first rays of the sun were falling into the henge from behind the Heelstone, showering the place where the Altarstone once stood in a brilliant light through one of the archways. Teddy noted this peculiar way light was falling into the henge. Lantun, trailing him, suddenly noticed the aura disappearing from the look of his methicin in the exact middle of the henge, in a circle half the diameter of the circle of bluestones around the altar stone. Then, when the sun had finally left the horizon for the sky, the henge was showered in a brilliant warm-brown colour as a whole, and suddenly the four, their eyes fixed on the gnome, noticed that there was a disturbance spreading in the methicin. They heard a faint bang and the methicin was blazing red. "Eureka!" Art exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air in a joyful cheering motion. "Somehow this circle transforms the light into a constant flow of magical energy forming the aura of this place. We have just uncovered the use of Stonehenge! It was a temple of light, or some kind of ancient magical laboratory, and at dawn it was used for magic spells: the dawn provided sufficient energy, and the catalysts absorbed it!" All of a sudden, as if he realised something very dangerous about the fabulous mechanism, Art stopped cheering and became very, very grave again. "But... if a malicious user uses it..." 

     "Lads, this must remain a secret," the doctor had said. "We don't want anyone to know, especially not the one who stole the book from the faculty." The cloaked men laughed a silent, fiendish laugh at the irony of the magologist's words. Regardless of whatever he tried to keep his discovery from the wrong ears, he would fail. He had led the wrong ears right to the discovery, in fact. The man decided that he knew enough, and that he should come back later to bring his plans for Stonehenge to fruition. There was one problem though: he couldn't use travelling magic like he used to come here, for that would certainly betray him to the gnome. He decided to find another mode of transport, which would give him some more useful information...

     Art was overexcited. The whole way down from the henge to the custodian's office, he talked about his brilliant plans for an article on prehistoric magic in Magology Multinational Magazine, which would be an asset for scholars of magology worldwide. They had to force him to be silent before they reached the custodian's office, else he would betray his real study. Lucky enough for Art, they succeeded in this before reaching the office. After politely answering a number of inquiries from the custodian, they gave their regards to the elder man and prepared to get back to Bath. At that time, it was already busy in the carpark: some cars came, some cars went. When they entered the carpark, a car just drove out of the park. It was a middle-aged Ford driven by a man whom they could not see through the humid glass. Suddenly, Sarah spoke. "Art," she said, trying to get the magologist's attention. " Isn't that your car?" Art, dismayed by the sudden recognition of his own, beloved, middle-aged silver-blue Ford, gave a startled shout, followed by a stream of curses. "Come back, whoever you are!" he cried. "Thief! Insolent oaf! Petty criminal!" He ran towards the car but couldn't catch up with it, and was still shouting when a piece of paper flew into his face and muffled his shouts. With a face as red as Lantun's methicin in the middle of a torrent of magical energy, he read the note out loud.

     "Dear Doctor Dragonpen," it read. "I am sorry for borrowing your vehicle without your permission, but I am a big fan of your magological exploits on Merlin and want to know more about the way he worked magic. However, I needed a way of transportation. I hope you don't mind me borrowing your car, if you do please come and seek me out in Cornwall. It's the next place I am going to need for my studies. Kind Regards, the 'thief' "

     After reading this note, Art understood immediately who the "thief" was. He unveiled his knowledge a few moments later by grumbling: " Not only a book thief but also a car thief... didn't mother ever tell him he should not take others' things without their permission?" Having cooled down a bit, Art was right-on-the-case, pointing out they had no means of getting home now at all. He, in his usual chaotic state-of-mind, did not see a solution to this problem. Fortunately, he was not alone, for Sarah did have an orderly way of thought, and she proposed to seek the help of the custodian after a few  minutes of deep thought. Indeed, once they had explained the situation the man called the police and proposed to give them a lift, leaving one of his assistants in charge. After being cramped up in the custodian's little and little ventilated car, it is understandable the four of them were happy when they arrived back at Art's house after a few hours.

     The welcoming words of Morgan were, as is to be expected, not too kind on poor Art. She blamed him for coming home, all filthy and with his car stolen, and said she had been sick with worry for his safety, and that she was glad she didn't have to go with him for his work... it is not surprising that, after lunch, the magologists came together in Art's study and decided that their plan of action should be to leave Bath as soon as possible, not only to find the villain, but also to avoid the wrath of mistress Morgan Dragonpen. Then it dawned on Teddy that one needed a method of transport to do any more fieldwork, and said: " All right, so the villain is in Cornwall... but how do we get there with your car stolen? I mean, they can't give you a new car that fast, can they?" Art answered the question with a grin: "For fieldwork as long as this," he said. "I use something else."

     The three students were not impressed when they saw a camper from the seventies in Art's garage. When they looked inside, however, they were astonished. On the inside, the camper was quite spacious: via some kind of system, the road behind the camper was projected on a wooden wall that divided it into two parts separated by a door. The chamber they entered into was a normal but strangely spacious living area, and when they opened the door they looked out into a veritable magological laboratory, with numerous books, materials and instruments arranged in no particular order around a wooden working table. Art smiled. "Well, isn't it lovely?" he said, and continued in a tone best suited for a television presentation: "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my fieldwork camper! It's spacious, luxurious, and has been my friend in many adventures." He paused and sat down in the driver's seat. "Well then," he said encouragingly. "Suit yourselves, Biggur has already brought in the bags. Cornwall, here we come!"

[Martinulus]

CHAPTER FOUR:
The Secrets of the Sword

     The pure fog of a misty Cornish morning made the air fill with an aura of mystery as a group of four humans and a gnome walked the coastal path to Tintagel from the Penhalt Farm campsite, where they had stationed their base of operations in an unsuspicious camper. As the castle rose up before them, towering high on a cliff top cutting the sea and dominating the surrounding landscape, there was no doubt this was the legendary birthplace of King Arthur. The castle still looked magnificent, even though it had been broken by the very forces it defied when the middle section of the cliff had fallen into the sea. As they approached, having tucked Lantun away safely in the GNOMEON, Art told them that this was supposed to be the castle of Duke Gorlois of Cornwall, where King Uther, with the help of Merlin, who frequently practiced his magic in a cave under the castle afterwards, sired Arthur by the duke's wife.

     The steep climb to the top of the cliffs was justified by the magnificent view it commanded and the great ruins of the castle. But however much they looked at its stones, they could never find something special about the place, and there wasn't even a remote sign of the villain. Instead of looking at the castle, they decided to take a look at the cave below it. Walking down the slippery stairs to the beach, taking care not to fall, they wondered what they would find there. When they entered the cave, all their hope had gone. It was just a cave carved into the rock by the waves bashing their way into it on both sides. It was dark, too. Telling Lantun to be still, they took the gamble and used his lamp function to make light, walking back and forth on the wet, uneven ground, attracting a lot of unwanted attention from the tourists. They had just given up all hope when in the exact middle of a large pond of water, there suddenly was a blaze of magic in the air. Not soon after, a light enveloped the whole of the cave.

     When the light died, they were no longer in the cave, but its ceiling and walls were still recognisable even though they were obscured by tapestries. They got on their feet and realised they were treading not on rock, but on a soft carpet. They looked around, and saw a table standing in the middle of the room with all kinds of instruments on it. Some of them they had seen in Art's study in Bath, too. Suddenly, they heared a voice coming from behind their backs. "What are you doing here?" it inquired. They turned, and looked right into the face of a young man with chestnut-brown hair and deep, wise blue eyes. Around his brow was a circlet of copper, and he wore a simple beige robe. "Uhm... hello," Art began. "My name is Arthur Dragonpen, a magologist. Can you tell me who I have the honour to address?" The man smiled. "I know you, Arthur Dragonpen," he said. "And you may know me. As for my name, I am called doomsayer, scarecrow, Gwion, Magor and sorcerer, but you may know me as..." At that point, Art fainted, pointing at the man and stammering: "You... you can't be..." The man looked at Art with a remote, pitying glance, then looked at Sarah, James and Teddy. "Ah, forgive me," he said. "It seems I have startled your companion. I think you know me as Merlin." The three of them gasped. Surely this youngster couldn't be the great wizard Merlin from the stories! Was this a joke, or a dream perhaps? They didn't know, and instead of thinking about it, they were busily trying to wake Art, who, when he finally woke up, was more excited than surprised. The wizard motioned for them to sit down, then offered them a cup of tea.

     "I can of course understand you are surprised to see me," he began. "Indeed, it was what I felt when because of her I was locked up here. But I sense you have something to tell me first. You are worried about something." They told the whole story from the theft of the book to their arrival at Tintagel. While they were telling it, Merlin's expression turned grave, and the wizard said: "So the Codex Merlinis has been stolen. Indeed you have done well to, albeit unintentionally, find me. That is very grave news. The Codex contains all my secret notes and suchlike, and in wrong hands it can be deadly powerful. Any man who tries casting a spell from the Codex is instantly burned to cinders... they need the magical instruments. Alas, I can do nothing. She is responsible for that." When Sarah inquired after the "she", Merlin sighed. "Yes, I will tell you," he said. "She was beautiful, and out of love I took her as an apprentice and taught her my whole art. But after Arthur died, I was so grieved that I refused to be a magician any longer. She got angry with me, and screamed: 'Then you shall be magician no longer'. She imprisoned me hear, in my cave out of time, inside a magical vacuum, so I would not use magic to end my miserable life. Miserable indeed it was, with only Wattz," he nodded at the small, old-fashioned, ornamented golden gnome hastily dashing along the room, "to accompany me. Yes, I have had visitors a couple of times. One Isaac Newton, for example, and an alchemist from a place called Vinci, I think he was called Lennart or something..." They could barely help being reduced to tears, but instead Art asked how the Codex ended up with the faculty. "Ah yes, the faculty," Merlin answered with a thoughtful expression. "Claudius has done a great job... before I was imprisoned, I was allowed to see one person. I chose my second apprentice, a studious lad from Aquae Sulis, Claudius Theodorus Studiosus, and entrusted him with the Codex and the teaching of magic. Then he founded the magological faculty at Wroxeter."

[Martinulus]

They nodded. "But now," Merlin said suddenly. "The Codex. Y'know, it's not enough." The four gasped, their mouths gaping wide. "Ah, I can see you are quite stupefied," the wizard said. "Doctor Dragonpen, have you ever heard of the magical instruments?" Art nodded, and began to tell them all he knew. In fact, the telling him all he knew part didn't take long because he didn't know a lot. The only thing he knew was that there were seven: the sword, the wand, the sign, the stone, the book, the word and the undefined. Despite the fact that Art didn't know a lot, the wizard nodded. "Say no more, doctor Dragonpen!" he said, raising his voice. "I have one here. I'll give it to you, to keep it out of the hands of the villain." He motioned them to follow him out of the cave, up the cliff. The castle was whole, but there was something strange: there was no sound, and the waves were frozen in position. Time was evidently standing still here. The climb to the cliff was remarkably heavy, and they were glad when they reached a small chapel built on the cliff top. The building was built out of the same type of rock as the castle and it had beautiful stained glass windows. Merlin opened a door and with a theatric gesture, he bid them enter. The inside of the chapel drew all eyes to its altar, upon which a silvery object shone. Merlin gestured towards it, drawing them closer. "Behold," he said. "The Sword in the Stone".

"But it's broken!" Sarah exclaimed as they examined the sword. It was a bastard sword of a silvery metal, but the metal had shattered. The sword hilt was gold, with a red stone set in it. "Yes," Merlin said, to answer Sarah's startled exclamation. "That's what you see. But what do you feel? Close your eyes..." They closed their eyes, and felt the aura of the sword. Despite the fact that the material sword had been broken, the magical sword clearly hadn't. Art visibly marvelled at the sword, and asked Merlin: "But what... what is its purpose?" The wizard sighed. "There is a lot I know," he said. "but I must confess that is one thing that has always eluded me." Meanwhile, Teddy and James had jumped for the sword, raising the broken hilt boyishly above their heads, paying no heed to what Art and Merlin were discussing. "What are we waiting for!" they shouted out loud, and the clamour resounded through the chapel. "Let's prevent magical disaster!". Art apologised to Merlin and tucked the sleeve of Teddy's jack. "Not yet," he said. "we do not know what to do with this thing yet." He turned and looked at Merlin, who lifted his finger at him in a cool, condemning way. "I was about to say," the wizard said with gravity. "that with all enthusiasm you have, you will find out, I know it. Here..." With his hand, he studied the pockets of his robe, until he produced an old, musty tome. "Here," he repeated. "This little notebook contains all I know about the instruments. And one word of warning, if I may," his voice lowered. "These instruments are powerful. Do not take them lightly."

"Good luck," Merlin said, waved his arm in a farewell gesture. As they were thrown back towards time, the rugs on the walls disappeared, the floor became rocky and the sea bashed into the cave. A moment later, they found themselves back in the damp, dark cave under Tintagel. No time had passed on Art's watch. It was as if they had been asleep. "Whew," Art said remotely. "I never thought I would ever have this kind of dream..." He got on his feet, quickly tucking Lantun away into the GNOMEON bag, when Teddy gave a surprised shout. "Dream?" he exclaimed. "How dare you insult our dear friend Merlin?" With his hand, he searched for something on the floor, and when he found it he swept off the cloth. "Here, the proof!" he said. "The book and the sword!" Art was astonished, and even James agreed that it hadn't been a dream. He was even excited, which says a lot about the change of situation that had been brought about by the sudden meeting with the wizard. "So," Art said. "We have two things to do. One," he raised one finger. "find the Codex. Two," he raised another. "find out about the instruments. Well then, let's go. Earling will want to know about this."

Back at the fieldwork camper, they found out that Art had been right all along, and Earling was very keen on their progress. He heared the whole story without interrupting it one time, congratulated them on their work and offered them the use of SFEAR technical facilities at Oxford, as the instruments on board the camper clearly were not enough. Before they knew it, they were back on their way to Oxford. It was quiet on the highways: not one traffic jam was encountered, and with a pit stop in Bath, they were in Oxford the very next day, in the afternoon. Once Art had overcome some trouble with parking the camper in the city centre, it was no problem altogether, and Teddy, James and Sarah were glad to be home. When they spoke the password and the door opened, they looked right at a thin but long gnome who was wearing a stole over a black toga, and had a whig on his head. It looked quite ridiculous, but Art asked them not to laugh with a severe gaze. "Ah," he said. "Beadle Wrightur. What explains this unexpected honour?" The beadle gestured at the stair. "Follow me," he squeaked. "Hora est. The rector has asked me to welcome you back, doctor." Before they could say anything, they had to follow the beadle up the stairs.