Disclaimer: All characters and plot elements from The Dark is Rising sequence belong to Susan Cooper. The rest is mine.
7. Remembrance
The early evening sunshine cast long shadows about them as Will and Jane stepped onto the Welsh hillside.
They had chatted a little, walking to the castle. Will had warned Jane, with a deadly serious expression, to be careful what she said to Bran, as they couldn't give him any hints or clues during the tests. Now there was silence between them. Will was trying to keep his mind focussed on what lay ahead. Jane had many questions revolving around in her head, but knew this was not the time to ask them.
As they neared the lake, Jane looked up at the hills and felt their immense, silent power once again. Will felt it too, but also a crackle in the air like static electricity, as if the very place knew something was about to happen.
"D'you think Bran will be alright?" asked Jane, finally breaking the silence.
"I don't know." Will said uncertainly. "I just don't know how he's going to remember anything clearly. Maybe the High Magic in him will be strong enough, but it all seemed so fragmented last week."
They walked down to the edge of the lake and saw Bran sitting on a rock. He looked small and alone against the vast backdrop of green hills and grey mountains.
"Hello Bran," called Jane.
He half turned and looked up at them. He was wearing his dark glasses so they couldn't see his eyes.
"So you've come then." He looked out across the lake again. Inside, the longing to stay and the longing to go were tearing him apart. He knew he must conquer this fear of the unknown that was holding him back. But the beauty, the untamed passion of this place also held him so strongly that he felt he could hardly break free.
"It's time to make your decision," said Will.
Bran stood up and faced them. He took off his glasses and his tawny eyes were circled with dark shadows, as if he hadn't slept for days.
"Bran, are you OK?" asked Jane with concern.
"I thought I was." There was a tremor in his voice. "Yesterday it all seemed so clear. Now I feel so unsure, I don't know if I'm doing the right thing."
"You must trust the truth inside you, Bran," said Will with the voice of an Old One.
Bran looked him straight in the eye and suddenly knew he was right, he must go.
At last he said, "I want to find my real father."
"Alright. Are you ready?"
"Yes, but I have to say goodbye to my Dad. He's just gone to get something – he won't be long."
"OK, a few minutes then." Will sat down on a rock. This burden of responsibility seemed to be weighing him down. Jane sat on a rock near by. Bran stared out again across the lake.
The tension Will could feel, his own, Bran's and Jane's, was becoming unbearable. He looked at his watch. Time seemed to have slowed down. Finally he said, "We have to get ready, Bran, we can't wait any longer."
"No. I promised Da I wouldn't go without saying goodbye. It would break his heart and my mother already did that."
"Bran, the time is nearly here. The High Law…"
"No, I said! If I can't say goodbye properly, I won't go." His voice was breaking with emotion.
Jane and Will looked at each other.
"Please Will," said Jane, "just another minute."
Will opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again and just nodded.
At last they heard an engine and saw Mr Davies's van pull over at the edge of the road. He hurried towards them, his face fixed on his son.
"Sorry I took so long Bran." His eyes looked red and they could see he was struggling to keep composed. "I didn't think you'd be here so soon," he said to Will and Jane. "Is it time now?" His voice seemed small and distant.
"Almost, Mr Davies." Will's throat felt so tight he could hardly speak.
"Is it true I'll never see Bran again?"
Will could only nod. Bran turned away.
"I thought so. I knew it had to come." Mr Davies let out a deep sigh and said something in Welsh to Bran. Bran turned back and looked at him, tears in his eyes.
"Oh Da!" He rushed towards him and threw his arms round his Dad.
Neither Will nor Jane could bear to look at them in that final embrace. The grief of separation was too overpowering.
After a minute, Owen Davies drew back.
"I have something for you Bran. I went to fetch it just now." He took from his jacket pocket a stem of green spiky leaves. An aroma of herbs drifted through the air.
"When your mother left, she tucked a sprig of rosemary inside your blankets. I couldn't bear to throw it away, so I put it in a pot and then planted it by the old cottage. Somehow it has grown and survived all these years and now I want you to take a piece with you. If you see your mother, wherever you're going, give it to her and tell her I never forgot her and will always love her.
"I will" whispered Bran.
"Rosemary for remembrance" said Jane softly.
Will looked at her and suddenly understood what Merriman had meant:
'If he is true to his father, he will be given the power.'
If Bran hadn't waited for his Dad, what was about to happen could never take place.
For the first time that day Will smiled, just a little. He motioned to Jane to come and stand near Bran – he was going to need them.
Mr Davies held out the rosemary twig. As his son took it, Jane and Mr Davies both thought they saw a flash like lightning in the sky, though there were no clouds to be seen.
Will suddenly felt the whole of space and time jump and quiver for an instant, as it re-arranged itself into a new pattern.
For Bran, as he touched those leaves, it was like an almighty storm breaking over him. Images flooded into his being, like watching a high speed film, and for a moment he thought he must be dying. He saw scenes from his life, but they were things he'd never known before, except perhaps in his dreams.
Then an overwhelming awareness of who he was, what he was, his name and place in history crashed into his brain. He staggered sideways and found Will and Jane next to him, supporting him, steadying him again.
The storm was over as quickly as it had come, but Bran was utterly changed. He stood up straight and tall and looked about him.