Disclaimer:  All characters and plot elements from The Dark is Rising sequence belong to Susan Cooper.  The rest is mine.

A/N -    Nos da = Goodnight;  eisteddfod = a Welsh festival of music, poetry, dance etc.

8.  Gold From the Deep

"Bran bach, are you alright?" asked Mr Davies anxiously.

"Yes…I'm fine," Bran answered absently.  His mind was still reeling from the sudden realisation that he was a King's son and had played a crucial role in saving the world from the Dark.  They all saw an unmistakeable difference in his face.  It was like a shadow had fallen away and a new brightness shone from his eyes.

Will glanced up at the sky and could see the sun moving down towards the west. 

"Bran, we have to begin," he said.

Bran looked dazed but and nodded.

"Mr Davies," said Will, "I'm going to draw a circle around Jane, Bran and myself, and when it's done you won't see us anymore."

Owen Davies looked from Will to Bran, a deep sadness in his eyes.  Bran met his gaze and tried to smile.

Swallowing hard he said, "I'll be alright, Da. Please don't stay after we're gone; go back and see Megan, she'll be waiting for you."

"If that's what you want son, I'll go,"  said Mr Davies stepping back a little.  His voice was drained of all emotion.

Will, pointing at the ground, began to walk around Bran and Jane drawing a large circle of concealment.  When it was finished, they could still see Mr Davies but to him they had vanished.  He stood for a moment looking at the empty space.

"Nos da, Bran Davies," he called and then turned and walked away towards the road.

"Nos da, Owen Davies," whispered Bran.

They saw the solitary figure, head bowed, open the door of the van and climb in; they heard the engine growl into life and watched as the vehicle disappeared over the hill and the sound faded away.

Bran turned slowly to Will.  "Tell me one thing.  What will my Dad say has happened to me?"

Will looked at him with the eyes of an Old One and sighed gently.  "Nothing.  They will forget.  All who knew you will forget.  Though you have lived in this time, you were never truly part of it, so the memories will disappear like the sea washing away footprints in the sand."

Bran frowned and seemed about to say something, but instead he pursed his lips and let out a long breath. It was as if he was letting go of his life in this place.  He shivered slightly, then putting on his dark glasses he said, "Well, Old One, what must I do?"

To Will it was suddenly like having the old Bran back, the one he'd known 3 years ago, who had stood firm at his side in the final battle.  All his tension ebbed away and he now felt confident about Bran's ability to face what was to come.

"The High Law has set three challenges and you must pass each one to move on to the next.  But first put this on."  Will took off the chain and pendant with the Lightning Stone and gave it to Bran.  "You've still got to prove your birthright and this talisman will let you pass through the barriers of the High Magic."

Bran held it up against the light.  "It's the stone Gwion gave me, from the Lost Land.  Didn't I give it to you Jane?"

"Yes, but Will needed it back for the pendant.  And anyway I've got the ring he made for me instead."

Bran looked at Will, eyebrows raised.  "So was I interrupting something last week?" he asked with a mischievous smile.

"Jane needed the ring to get here," Will said firmly. 

"And why did you come here in the first place?"

"For the harp," began Jane.

'NO!' Will shouted into her head.

Jane looked shocked and stared at him. 

"What's wrong Jane?" Bran asked, puzzled by her sudden change of expression.

"Er…I…er…nothing," she stammered uncertainly.

Bran glanced at Will who looked tense again.

"Well, you two certainly seem to have a lot of secrets.  But if you're not going to tell me, we may as well get on."  Already his tone of voice showed an awareness of his true rank.  Will would have found it slightly irritating to be talked down to if he wasn't so glad that Bran was his old self again.

"Sorry, you're right Bran," Will said, trying to sound calm.  "We must begin."  A nagging fear had crept into his mind which he couldn't think about now.  Putting away his anxieties, he stood facing the lake and tried to prepare his mind for the task in hand.  He turned back to Bran, speaking loudly and clearly, as if addressing the whole sky.

"Bran, do you claim to be the son of the High Lord Arthur and his Lady Guinevere?"

"I do."

"Do you claim to be the Pendragon and rightful heir to that position within the High Law?"

"I do."

"Do you claim to be Prince of the High Magic and entitled to a place in Avalon, the land beyond the North Wind?"

"I do."

There was a strength and power in Bran's voice, a total confidence in who he was and what he was doing.  Will continued:

"Are you ready to face the challenges of the High Law and High Magic to test your claims?"

"I am."

"Then prepare for your first challenge."

Jane, who was beginning to feel a little redundant in all this, suddenly heard words in her head that were not her thoughts nor words from Will.  It was the voice of a woman, light and gentle but also clear and insistent.

'You must speak the first challenge of the High Law.'

She was startled but not worried. She glanced at Will, who sensed what was happening and nodded to her. Then some lines of verse came into her mind, so she began to speak.

"Bran, this is what the High Law says:

When the sound of gold from waters deep

Is heard in the shadow of Arthur's Seat

Once more will Pridwen come."

Bran was a bit surprised to hear Jane speaking the words but he knew he must try and concentrate on their meaning.  Arthur's Seat – that was easy – Cader Idris, the mountain in whose shadow they were standing.  The sound of gold from waters deep - he closed his eyes, allowing the memories to resurface – that must be the golden harp that he and Will had sought, which Caradog Pritchard had flung in anger into this very lake. And Pridwen?  Of course, the majestic ship that had sailed across the sky, bearing his father away.  He felt a sudden stab of anguish at that thought.

He opened his eyes and said slowly, "I must summon the ship Pridwen by playing the harp that lies at the bottom of this lake.  But how do I get the harp?"

"The harp belongs to the High Magic and can only be retrieved at its request," said Jane at the prompting of the gentle voice in her head.

Bran glanced across at Will, but from the fixed expression he saw, which distinctly reminded him of Merriman, he knew he'd receive no help from that quarter.  He looked back at Jane and thought 'If that's what you two came for before, you must still be able to get it.'

He took a deep breath, then standing straight, said clearly  "As Prince of the High Magic, I have the authority to request the retrieval of the harp and so I command you Old One, Will Stanton, and you mortal, Jane Drew, to bring the harp to me."

Jane could feel the strength of Bran's words and again she spoke as the voice told her.

"The High Law acknowledges your authority to command and accepts your request."  Turning her head she said confidently, "Will, we must get the harp."

Slightly taken aback, Will nodded.  He had to admit he was more than a little impressed by the power with which Jane spoke the words from the High Law.  There was a calmness and self-possession about her now which also seemed to bring a new sparkle to her eyes.

Jane herself felt great exhilaration rising inside her.  She had never expected to be so deeply involved with these events and found herself wanting more and more.  And she didn't have long to wait for it.

Once again Will moved behind her and they stood together, right hands outstretched pointing towards the lake.  The pulse of energy that ran up Jane's arm as their hands touched this time was so strong it made her catch her breath.  Comfortably aware of Will's closeness, she relaxed her mind and looked straight ahead.  Will began the spell in the Old Speech.

The chanting started softly, gradually becoming louder and more intense. It filled Jane's head, filled every part of her until her whole body resonated with the sound.  Her eyes focussed on a rippling point far out on the water.  Then suddenly she and Will seemed to leave their bodies and were diving straight down into the middle of the lake.  The water rushed noiselessly past them as they plunged through the darkness, down, down until at last they saw the gleaming brightness of gold.  They touched the harp together and instantly they were back at the side of the lake holding the small golden harp between them.

"Wow, that was impressive!" said Bran behind them.  "You were just standing there, then you seemed to quiver and everything jumped and the harp appeared out of nowhere!"

Jane, breathless, could hardly believe it.  "That was so amazing Will!"  Her eyes were wide and her face was beaming.

"Yeah, not bad," he said casually.  He smiled, then burst out laughing at their astonished faces.

Will handed the harp to Bran.  "OK Your Highness, it's time you did some work.  Hope you've been practising."

Bran raised his eyebrows but grinned as he took the beautiful instrument and placed it in the crook of his left arm.

He ran his right hand over the strings and the sweetness of the sound immediately brought vivid memories flooding back to himself and Will.  He hesitated a moment, trying to decide what to play, then chose a folk tune he'd learnt for the eisteddfod earlier in the summer.

The notes rippled out across the water in a haunting melody that seemed to wrap the valley in enchantment.  The sounds wove themselves around the rocks and the hills and the three people standing there until they were so caught up in its magic that they hardly noticed the boat out on the lake.