Cloud Magic

cloud kingdom where he belongs.’
    When Chloe’s parents left the house, Xanthe helped the girls gather enough bindweed from the garden to plait into a long rope. The rain was starting to slow down. By the time it was dark and they turned into stardust spirits it had finally stopped, but more heavy clouds were already gathering on the horizon and there was a dangerous feel about the air. It seemed charged with electricity. Erin could feel it tingling across her skin.

    ‘There’s Lookout Point,’ Chloe said to Xanthe as they approached the house. ‘Erin’s gran used to live there.’
    ‘She would have been a weather weaver too,’ Xanthe said. ‘Weather weavers pass their abilities down through the generations. You will have come from a family of weather weavers, Erin. Your mother would have been a weather weaver as well.’
    ‘My mum?’ But deep down Erin realized she wasn’t that surprised. Ever since she had found out about weather weavers, a part of her had wondered if her mum had been one too – if that was why she had kept a box of them and why she had kept the bit of paper in the box that talked about a dark one coming.
    Xanthe nodded. ‘The gift of weather weaving passes down the generations through the female members of the family. When all this is over, you must learn how to use your powers properly. They are very, very special. However, now let’s concentrate on the night ahead.’
    ‘The lights are on in the house,’ Chloe said warningly.
    ‘I wonder if Marianne is inside,’ Xanthe replied.
    ‘Yes, look!’ Chloe said as Marianne appeared at one of the windows, drawing the curtains.
    ‘Excellent,’ Xanthe said. ‘I will go and keep her talking. I will tell her there is concern about the weather along the coast and ask if she knows anything about it. You must be as quick as you can.’ She smiled at them. ‘Good luck! And remember the important thing with magic of any kind is to believe you can do it. Believe it and it will happen!’
    She flew off. The girls raced to the feed room and pulled open the door as quietly as they could. The ring of keys was still hanging opposite the door. Chloe grabbed them and they flew straight to the woods.
    There was an eager whinny from inside as if the sky stallion could sense them coming.
    ‘Tor!’ Erin gasped, reaching the door of the building. ‘We’re here and we’ve got everything!’
    Chloe opened the door.
    Tor stepped forward, his neck arched, his proud head held high. Erin reached out instinctively and then her hand dropped; he was not a tame horse to be petted. She stared at him in awe. He was wild, majestic, a king of horses.
    ‘I’m ready to do the spell and break the rope.’ Erin looked at the black rope round Tor’s neck and reached to pull it off.
    Tor jerked back. ‘No!’
    But he was too late; Erin’s fingers had already closed round it. It burnt her like flames and with a sharp cry she yanked her hands back.
    ‘What’s the matter?’ Chloe asked in alarm.
    Erin stared down. Her fingers were red where she had touched it and she could already see three blisters forming. ‘Look!’
    Tor immediately breathed on her hand. Erin felt the sensation of snowflakes settling on her skin, soothing the burning, healing the blisters. ‘I am sorry, Erin. But the rope cannot be removed until it is broken by the spell. I should have warned you sooner.’
    Erin looked at the sores on his neck and bit her lip. ‘How do I do the spell?’
    ‘Unbinding magic is dangerous to perform,’ Tor replied. ‘You must use your powers as a weather weaver to enter a vision that will seem as real to you as real life. You must then do the unbinding in the vision. It will hurt and it will be hard.’
    ‘Oh,’ Erin said, swallowing.
    Tor’s dark eyes met hers. He raised his muzzle to her face, strength in his gaze. ‘You are special, Erin. You will be able to do this.’
    She felt his mane brush against her cheek, felt his breath on her hair, and courage flooded through her.
    She lifted her chin. ‘I won’t let you down.’
    Tor gave a low grateful whicker. ‘Come,’ he said softly. ‘It is time.’

C H A P T E R
    Eleven
    Tor plunged out of the hut. ‘Clear the hagstones and make a circle with the bindweed as quickly as you can!’
    Chloe and Erin did as he said, piling the hagstones up and laying the bindweed rope on the ground, tying the two ends together.
    ‘What next?’ asked Erin.
    Tor stamped a hoof. ‘First, you must pull a