Read Online The Dark Is Rising by Susan Cooper - Free Book Online

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    â€œDon’t open that door!”
There was a hint of desperation in the deepvoice that told Will, through instinct, that in the last resort Merriman was powerless to stop him.
    â€œThat is not your mother, Will,” the old lady said clearly.
    â€œPlease, Will!” his mother’s voice begged.
    â€œI’m coming!” Will reached out to the door’s heavy latch, but in his haste he stumbled, and knocked against the great head-high candlestick so that his arm was jarred against his side. There was a sudden searing pain in his forearm, and he cried out and dropped to the floor, staring at the inside of his wrist where the sign of the quartered circle was burned agonisingly red into his skin. Once more the iron symbol on his belt had caught him with its ferocious bite of cold; it burned this time with a cold like white heat, in a furious flaring warning against the presence of evil — the presence that Will had felt but forgotten. Merriman and the old lady still had not moved. Will stumbled to his feet and listened, while outside the door his mother’s voice wept, then grew angry, and threatened; then softened again and coaxed and cajoled; then finally ceased, dying away in a sob that tore at him even though his mind and senses told him it was not real.
    And the door faded with it, melting like mist, until the grey stone wall was solid and unbroken as before. Outside, the dreadful inhuman chorus of moaning and wailing began again.
    The old lady rose to her feet then and came across the hall, her long green dress rustling gently at every step. She took Will’s hurt forearm in both her hands and put her cool right palm over it. Then she released him. The pain in Will’s arm was gone, and where the red burn had been he saw now the shiny, hairless skin that grows in when a burn has been long healed. But the shape of the scar was clear, and he knew he would bear it to the end of his life; it was like a brand.
    The nightmare sounds beyond the wall rose and fell in uneven waves.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Will said miserably.
    â€œWe are besieged, as you see,” Merriman said, coming forward to join them. “They hope to gain a hold over you while you are not yet grown into your full power. And this is only the beginning of the peril, Will. Through all this midwinter season their power will be waxing very strong, with the Old Magic able to keep it at a distanceonly on Christmas Eve. And even past Christmas it will grow, not losing its high force until the Twelfth Day, the Twelfth Night — which once was Christmas Day, and once before that, long ago, was the high winter festival of our old year.”
    â€œWhat will happen?” Will said.
    â€œWe must think only of the things that we must do,” the old lady said. “And the first is to free you from the circle of dark power that is drawn now round this room.”
    Merriman said, listening intently, “Be on your guard. Against anything. They have failed with one emotion; they will try to trap you through another next.”
    â€œBut it must not be fear,” she said. “Remember that, Will. You will be frightened, often, but never fear them. The powers of the Dark can do many things, but they cannot destroy. They cannot kill those of the Light. Not unless they gain a final dominion over the whole earth. And it is the task of the Old Ones — your task and ours — to prevent that. So do not let them put you into fear or despair.”
    She went on, saying more, but her voice was drowned like a rock submerged in a high-tide wave, as the horrible chorus that whined and keened outside the walls rose louder, louder, faster and angrier, into a cacophony of screeches and unearthly laughter, shrieks of terror and cackles of mirth, howlings and roars. As Will listened, his skin crept and grew damp.
    As if in a dream he heard Merriman’s deep voice ring out through the dreadful noise,