Behind the Sorcerer's Cloak by Andrea Spalding

massive jerk, broke the hold of the vortex and plummeted down through the stars toward the sunbeam shielding Equus.

    The small floatplane circled several times above the Isle of Man as Mr. Smythe requested landing clearance from Peel harbor authorities.
    Chantel stared in fascination at the waves breaking against the headland below.
    Myrddin had said this was a magic island, and he was right. Among the white frothy wave tops she spotted tossing heads and the streaming manes of white horses. They reared up, exposing their forelegs, and sank back into the sea again. They were the horses from her dream. She laughed and nudged Owen. “Look at the white horses,” she shouted.
    Owen smiled at her description of the waves. “Good job it’s sheltered in the bay,” he shouted back, “or we couldn’t land.”
    Chantel subsided.
    She watched the waves again. The horses were there, as plain as plain, dozens of them! She wasn’t dreaming, but Owen hadn’t seen them. Holly had said nothing about the horses either. She must be the only one who could see them. What did it mean?

    Holly ignored the sea. She stared at the land. She’d spotted a road, a causeway, joining what must have been an islet to the main island. The islet contained a ruined castle and within its walls she’d glimpsed a tall round tower.
    The castle seemed strangely familiar. With a jolt, Holly remembered a fragment of a dream…She’d seen this castle before. With a second jolt she recognized the tower, but it disappeared before she got a clear view.
    Holly pressed her face to the window and crossed her fingers, willing the plane to circle over the headland again.
    YES! It soared directly over the ruined castle, and there was the tower again. It was the round tower from her vision, with the strange door built high up in the wall and no steps to reach it.
    Everything had changed. This was no longer the bleak rocky isle in the past, but she was sure it was the same place. She stared down.
    Suddenly she felt Breesha.
    Breesha pulled at her heart as surely as if her invisible hand was tugging on Holly’s arm.
    The hair on the back of Holly’s neck prickled, and the bead in her pocket seemed hard and heavy. Breesha’s grave was down there, somewhere within the castle walls, and she must find it and somehow return the bead!

    Cool place, thought Owen as he looked down. He liked ruined castles. He loved exploring them and imagining they belonged to him. He could see inside this one. There were walkways along the walls and even a row of cannons. Cool. In one area people seemed to be digging, but the plane flew past before he could see more.
    Hundreds of birds wheeled in the air between the castle and the plane. Owen watched the nearest gull soaring effortlessly and was vividly reminded of flying with Ava the Hawkwoman, over the stone circle at Avebury. His mind flooded with anxiety. Something was wrong with Ava. He could sense it. She was scared! Why was a Wise One scared?
    Owen looked over to Myrddin to see if he was picking up the same feeling.
    Myrddin’s eyes were closed and his hands gripped the armrest. Owen couldn’t tell why.
    Owen closed his eyes and sent mindspeak to his favorite Wise One. Ava, what’s wrong? Where are you? Do you need help?

    The Dark Being stopped fingering her ring. With an impatient movement of her arm she gestured to the Shades to cease circling and close the vortex. There was no point wasting energy the Shades would need for the final confrontation.
    â€œGather along the fringes of the Mists of Time,” she ordered. “It cannot repel forever. Others use the Mists and will wish to enter. Be poised, ready to slip through any break. Then go to Gaia and spy on the humans. Watch for magical activities that might lead us to Myrddin’s staff. Be silent. Be stealthy. Gather information and enjoy making the humans uncomfortable and angry. Once I have what I seek, I