“Out—circle!” wheezed Colin.

They staggered sideways and almost fell down a small bank on to a path.

“Find Cadellin: perhaps… he… can stop it. I think that may be… Stormy Point ahead.”

Their legs were stiff, and every bone ached, but they hurried along as best they could, and a few minutes later they cried out with relief, for the path did indeed come out on Stormy Point.

Across the waste of stones they ran, and down to the iron gates; and when they came to the rock they flung themselves against it, beating with their fists, and calling the wizard’s name. But bruised knuckles were all they achieved: no gates appeared, no cavern opened.

Colin was in a frenzy of desperation. He prised a stone out of the ground, almost as big as his head, and, using both hands, began to pound the silent wall, shouting, “Open up! Open up! Open up! ! Open up! ! Open up! ! !”

“Now that is no way to come a-visiting wizards,” said a voice above them.

CHAPTER 7

Fenodyree

Colin and Susan looked up. not knowing what to expect: the voice sounded friendly, but was that any guide now?

Over the top of the rock dangled a pair of feet. and between these were two eyes, black as sloes, set in a leathery face, bearded and bushy-browed.

“Rocks are old, stubborn souls; they were here before we came, and they will be here when we are gone. They have all the time there is, and will not be hurried.”

With this, the face disappeared, the legs swung out of sight, there was a slithering noise, a bump, and from behind the rock stepped a man four feet high. He wore a belted tunic of grey, patterned with green spirals along the hem, pointed boots, and breeches bound tight with leather thongs. His black hair reached to his shoulders, and on his brow was a circlet of gold.