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The dawn rose above Craddle Wood spreading tentative fingers of light across the tree tops. Dew glistened on the branches, birds joyfully struck up the dawn chorus and in the distance, a cockerel crowed.

The beautiful shades of red and pink gave way to bright blue for as far as your eyes could see.

A lane cut through the pine trees, meandering its way to a white stone thatched cottage, which stood like an island in the ocean of trees. The lawn, neatly mowed and flowers grew in borders like a frame around the cottage. A path led up to a vibrant red door. All were covered in dew, which shone with the light of the coming day. A faint whisper of smoke curled from one of the chimney pots.

The tranquil scene was interrupted by a low ringing coming from the upstairs cottage window.

Jonathon Black slowly opened his eyes and looked at the phone in disbelief. Why would someone be ringing him at this hour? He reluctantly reached across and picked it up.

"Whaaat!" he barked into the phone.

"Is that Jonathon Black?" a woman’s voice barked back.

"Yes, what do you want, ringing me at this hour," he replied, just as angrily.

"Apologies, Mr Black, time difference, I’m always forgetting."

"Since you’ve woken me, what can I do for you?" his voice had a little less anger in it.

"I am ringing on behalf of Blare, Blair and Blaire Solicitors. We are executors for Albert Black, who..."

"Sorry, Albert Black who is he?" he interjected

There was a slight pause before she continued, as if she were disgusted that she had been interrupted," WHO," she repeated, "We believe, was your great uncle. It has taken us sometime to locate you and, as you are the last beneficiary, we would like to get this matter settled as quickly as possible. Our local address is 14 Maple Road. When you arrive, ask for Miss E Blaire, she is Mr Black’s executor."

There was a click and the phone purred into emptiness. He instinctively clicked the ‘finish’ button. Damn, he thought, she didn’t even give me a chance to ……

The phone kicked into life again, he clicked the ‘answer’ button, the same female voice said, "Would two this afternoon be alright with you?"

"Yes," he stammered. How, could she know what he was thinking?

He put the phone back onto its charger, clicked on the radio ‘the songbirds keep singing like they know the score’ wafted across the room. He nonchalantly tapped the bedside lamp, shut his eyes and allowed them to get used to the bright light.

Now that he was fully awake, he climbed out of bed and scanned the room. There were books piled everywhere some new, but most were very old. Three of the oldest books seemed to stand out more than the others. ‘Magic though the ages’, ‘Witches Black Book’ and ‘Elves and the Elvin Kingdom’.

He pulled the three books from their respective piles and thoughtlessly tossed them onto the bed. The rest of the books toppled to the floor. He was used to the books talking to him in this way, but why these three? He quickly set about translating the ancient text.

The uppermost book he quickly recognised as ‘Elves and the Elvin Kingdom’. On the left hand page were a set of rules, for when dealing with fairies or elves. They were:

1. Never argue with the elvin folk, you will always lose.

2. Never eat any food offered to you.

3. Never drink anything offered to you.

4. Never ask for anything, because what they give with one hand they take away with the other.

The second was ‘Witches Black Book’ this was a ‘Who’s Who of Witches and Warlocks’ from the 18th century. This volume had opened onto Elizabeth Jane Blaire a woman with short dark hair, a set jaw and piercing eyes, who stared from the page with an air of mystery. The caption underneath read, ‘tried and sentenced to be burnt as a witch on the 16thMay 1734’. As he closed the book, a thought crossed his mind that’s a coincidence, same name...

He picked up ‘Magic though the ages’. The left page started, ‘In ancient times the gate keepers kept the peace between the three kingdoms. These long lived individuals sole purpose was to ensure that each of the kingdoms kept their anonymity. Individuals who had travelled, seemed to forget everything, hence the authorities believe that these are just myths and make-believe, like dragon stories and were told to amuse and frighten children.’

He quickly dressed and negotiated his way out of the room, the landing and stairs were the same as the bedroom, stacked high with books. The only room in the house not to be like this was the kitchen, but here they were neatly stacked on shelves.

Having restoked the Aga and eaten breakfast, he entered the lounge, crossed to the awaiting typewriter and got on with writing his thesis. Jonathon was a well known authority on myths and the occult. His interest in this sphere started when he was very young, with fairy stories. He had become an avid collector of books in his teens and had spent most of his income on his vast collection.

At 1.30 pm, he got up from his typewriter, picked up his car key and headed out the kitchen door. The frog-eyed Sprite purred into life and he set off into Sooill.

Strangely, there was no traffic and he easily found a parking space right out side 14 Maple Road. Oddly, the next door pub was called, ‘The Cauldron.’

Fourteen Maple Road was an old Victorian terraced house, which had, like many others in town, been converted into offices. The faded double blue oak doors with large round brass door knobs looked careworn. A round door bell with an ivory button saying ‘push’ in almost invisible lettering, sat next to a tarnished plaque engraved with Blare, Blair and Blaire Solicitors.

Having pushed the bell, he waited. ‘There must be a mistake, this can’t be the right address’ he thought.

The door creaked open and a woman with blond hair piled high into a bun, and half rimmed glasses stood guarding the way, "What can I do for you?" she inquired.

"Hello, I’m Jonathan Black, I’ve a 2 pm appointment with Miss E Blaire," he stated.

"Oh! We’ve been expecting you, please follow me," she turned and he followed her into the foyer. This room was covered in a thick layer of dust, foot prints crossed the carpet to the door and, as they crossed back, left more. He was ushered into an office, which, was shining compared to the entrance hall he had just left.

A fire crackled in the grate and bathed the room with warmth. The walls were oak panelled and a large oak desk stood majestically in the centre of the room.

"Miss Blaire, Mr Black is here to see you."

"Thank you, Jane, that will be all for now. Good to see you Mr Black, please take a seat. We have much to discuss," a voice said from the back of the chair, "We have been looking for you for quite a while." The chair turned to reveal a young woman with short dark hair, set jaw and piercing blue eyes.

"I am the executor for Mr Albert Black. In his will, he left you a book called ‘Palam luna portas’. Do you accept this book, Jonathan Black?"

Why the question! What sort of will requires me to accept the inheritance? He thought.

Sensing the uncertainty, Elizabeth answered, "It’s a stipulation of the will. If you do not accept the book, I will have to locate the next living relative."

"How many have been asked before me?" he asked inquisitively.

"Six"

"So, what’s the catch for that many to turn down a book? There must be a catch!" he asked.

"For me to be able to tell you, you must accept the book, that’s the catch," she replied, her eyes softening.

"I need to think about it. The books called ‘Palam luna portas’ That’s Latin for ‘in the presences of moon gates’," he looked at Elizabeth for a clue of some kind.

None was forthcoming, Elizabeth brushed her hair back behind her ears. Jonathon noticed something strange, it was the shape of her ear and it was pointed.

"Yes!" was out of his mouth before he could think about it, "Yes, I accept the book," he repeated.

"Thank you, I can now tell you the rest of the will. Albert Black leaves to the relative who accepts the book, Craddle Wood and any property that lies within its boundaries."

The realisation that the rent he had been paying for the last five years was to a distant relative, left him dumbstruck.

"We have been managing his accounts since his departure and, of course, the book."

"How much?" he stammered, enquiringly.

Elizabeth pressed the communicator on her desk "Jane, exactly how much is in Mr Black accounts?"

There was a pause and then "Three million four hundred and sixty eight thousand point 28 as of close of business yesterday," Jane replied in a matter of fact way.

Elizabeth continued, "The legal side will take a couple of days to complete, but you can take the book now," she turned and opened the large Webster safe behind her and laid a leather bound book, with embossed gold italic letters spelling out ‘Palam Luna Portas’ onto her desk.

Jonathan picked it up and an envelope slid out of the cover and fell to the floor, like a leaf falling in autumn. Replacing the book on the table, he stooped and picked it up.

The envelope was made out of yellowed, folded parchment, with a red seal. Written on it in turquoise ink was, ‘To my future relative’.

Elizabeth looked at the letter and then at him, "Well I didn’t know that was in there," she said softly.

Jonathan cut the seal and opened it very carefully. Inside, in the same turquoise ink was

‘To my future relative,

Welcome and congratulations. On a full moon take this book into the moonlight. Follow the light.

Your relative

Albert’

Placing the letter in his pocket, he retrieved the book. Elizabeth escorted him back to the front door.

"We will be in touch with the papers to sign," as she held the door open, "Goodbye," and she closed it behind him.

Climbing back into his car and putting the book on the passenger seat, Jonathon headed for home.

He pulled into the drive, parked, and retrieved the book. Entering the house by the kitchen door, he placed his keys on a peg, the book onto the kitchen worktop and returned to his typewriter.

It was an eternity until dusk fell, for within the cottage time itself seemed to have almost stopped.

As the full moon rose over Craddle Wood, Jonathan picked up the book and went outside. Standing in the middle to the lawn, he waited with anticipation as to what would happen and what ‘follow the light’ meant.

The moonlight shone down, lighting the garden in an eerily white glow. The books gold lettering turned a silvery white and toadstools shone like tiny lampposts, marking a path into the wood.

The trees on either side of the path stood like giant fingers, gently beckoning their welcome.

Jonathon followed the toadstools, he shoes and trousers slowly dampening with the evening dew.

The path he was following opened into a clearing and there in the centre was a large stone wall. He drew closer and realised it was engraved with an arch. Someone had built this in the middle of the wood, but why not the rest of the building?

Next to the arch was a large toadstool. A figure sat upon it, hunched up, as though trying to keep out the cold.

"I’ve been calling you for a very long time, I’m glad you finally came," the figure spoke with a voice that sounded as if it had been dragged across the centuries, "I was beginning to think you would never come!"

"Who are you? Why have you been waiting?" Jonathan asked, as though not quite believing what he saw.

"I’m the gate keeper and my name was once Albert Black, the waiting, ahh! That is a story of my own misfortune," He said sadly.

"I was once like you, a woodsman, when I came across a young woman, badly burnt. I took her back to my cottage and nursed her back to health. In the process, I found out that she was an elf and that the local villagers had had her burnt as a witch. I, for one, did not care about her origins as I had fallen in love with her, and when she had fully regained her health, I accompanied her home. My intention was to ask for her hand in marriage," he sighed.

"She and I travelled along paths I didn’t know existed and, before long, I was hopelessly lost in a wood I thought I knew like the back of my hand. Eventually we came across this glade. Here we were met by Elizabeth’s father. He greeted his daughter and addressed me. Cautiously, I explained that I was in love with his daughter and here was where I made my mistake. I asked for her hand in marriage," Albert paused.

"He granted my request, but as I had asked, not his daughter, as was elvin custom, there would be a condition, that being, I was to become the gate keeper and I would be only able to wed his daughter when I found a replacement and that replacement must be a relative."

"To his daughter, he gave a book with instructions to give it to the relative that accepted it unconditionally."

With that, Elizabeth stepped in to the glade, "Thank you, Jonathon, for releasing my love from his post. The book will allow you to find this gate and will protect you between your world and ours. Keep it safe."

Albert looked up on hearing Elizabeth’s voice. The face that looked at Jonathon was his own!

Albert turned his gaze to Elizabeth. With adoration he took her hand. They smiled at each other, oblivious to Jonathon and stepped through the gate.

Copyright 2007 Juan Cottier
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