Before the Magic Fades

By Gill Winter

For centuries the remote land of Beta was an oasis of peace, protected by a mysterious source of magic. Now, the magic is fading away and Beta has been invaded by its rapacious neighbour, Shan.

Tova spends her days herding goats and dreaming of adventure. But one night her grandmother has a prophetic dream, and Tova finds herself on a quest which will change her life – and perhaps the future of her country.

"Before the Magic Fades" is a work of fiction, loosely based on the real and tragic story of the occupation of Tibet. For hundreds of years Tibet was a secretive, isolated land with a reputation for mystery and the supernatural. So, what if those magical forces really existed? "Before the Magic Fades" is the story of a country that is a little like Tibet, but with more magic, in another dimension entirely.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9780473443313

Book preview

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Chapter one

Tova crouched behind a rock, grasping her amulet in a sweaty hand. She muttered the incantation for fading into the background; for becoming invisible to any but the sharpest eye.

After counting slowly to ten, she stood up cautiously and peered over the rock at the soldiers. They had their backs to her and were deep in conversation about her grandmother’s yaks which were grazing nearby.

That black and white one, said the shorter soldier, that’s a fine animal. Good strong shoulders. My father had one just like it.

Maybe that’s it, replied the other. I wouldn’t put it past the Betans. Liars and thieves, the lot of them. Maybe we should liberate your father’s yak, what do you say?

They sniggered, and the taller soldier started to creep toward the yak. Tova hesitated. She couldn’t let her grandmother’s beloved yak be stolen, but what could she do against two armed soldiers?

Counting on the element of surprise, she cupped her hands around her mouth and roared in her deepest voice, Curses on those who dare to touch these yaks! Then she ducked hastily down behind the rock. She hoped that the spell had worked and that she was invisible, but there was no sense in taking chances.

Pressed against the warm stone, she could hear the soldiers’ startled exclamations, and then their footsteps rustling through the long grass.  A couple of minutes later their horses cantered off down the track.

Ha, you idiots! Tova shouted, waving her fist after the retreating men. I fooled you, you stupid Shan!

She whistled softly. The black and white yak turned its head at the sound and peered at her through its fringe of thick hair. Then it ambled over and lowered its head so that she could scratch between its magnificent horns.  Soon it was in a trance-like state, grunting deeply with satisfaction as she rubbed its head.

To the yak, Tova was a source of comfort, food, grooming and company. It had known her smell, her gentle movements and her soft voice since it was a calf.

To the human eye, she was a young woman of seventeen years old, stocky and of medium height, with the capable hands of someone used to hard work. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes had an intelligent, inquiring look. A long plait of thick black hair hung down over her homespun brown tunic and loose pants. Just another country girl minding her family’s flock.

Tova laid her head against the yak’s broad forehead and rubbed its silky hair with her cheek.

As if I’d let you be stolen, she whispered into its soft floppy ear. Grandmother would kill me!

She gazed across the plains, mentally tallying the herd of muscular little goats and a few precious yaks as they grazed on the rich pasture beside the stream. The sun was high in the sky. The rocks which dotted the landscape were surrounded by masses of tiny blue and pink wild flowers, their exquisite faces turned toward the warmth of the day. The only sound was the whispering of the light breeze through the long silvery grass, the rhythmical munching of the animals as they grazed, and the low-pitched buzzing of bees foraging among the flowers.  Tova relaxed. All the animals were accounted for.

She sat on a rock eating her bread and her grandmother’s tangy goat’s cheese, as she had done for more days than she could count. Far away to the south she could see the faint blue of the mountains against the clear sky. For the hundredth time she wondered what it would be like to explore those snow-covered heights, or even to escape from Beta into the unknown land beyond.

She thought about the soldiers who had tried to steal her grandmother’s yak. It was so humiliating to lurk behind rocks like a coward, instead of confronting the enemy. But what else could she have done, alone as she was? The soldiers of the Shan were not known for raping women, but they might have beaten her up, and she would have lost the yak.

For some reason, though, the soldiers were nervous of anything they perceived as magic. This was well known to the Betans, and they relished those tiny victories when the Shan could be tricked into leaving their victims alone.

But those opportunities were desperately few and far between. The people of Beta were broken under the weight of an occupation which had lasted for fifteen long years. Every sighting of Shan troops meant the possibility of men kidnapped, homes burned and food stolen.

As for the magic, it was just another burden of suffering and bewilderment for the Betans. In a land where magic had once been a part of everyday life, it was now a fluctuating and unreliable phenomenon; almost a memory.

Everything that made us special has been taken away from us, Tova thought bitterly. And there’s nothing we can do. Nothing!

She shivered and hugged her knees to her chest as she thought of her father and mother. They had ridden out with the resistance fighters in the months after the invasion and had been cut down like so many others. Their baby daughter, left behind with her grandparents, could not even remember their faces. 

Deep in thought, Tova barely registered the smoke rising from the village beyond the hill; not the thin smoke of cooking fires but the dark billowing clouds that meant a house on fire.

As the late afternoon came on, Tova prepared to take the flock home for milking. She gave a piercing whistle, and the animals which were spread around the plain lifted their heads in recognition. In ones and twos they ambled toward her, pausing to crop the sweet grass as they came. Tova surveyed her charges with a keen eye and at once realised that one was missing.

Of course, it was Nosy One! She had named the young goat for its seemingly insatiable curiosity. It simply couldn’t resist investigating anything new – a squirrel sunning itself on a rock, a lark rising singing into the clear sky, a path to be followed or a fresh young plant growing in a crevice on the cliff face. 

Tova sighed, whistled once again and shouted, Nosy One, come! She listened intently and scanned the landscape, but there was no answering bleat and no sign of the kid’s jaunty scampering run.

Where’s your baby got to this time, Brown Eyes? she muttered to the mother goat who was peacefully grazing with the others, apparently oblivious to the absence of her kid.

Tova set off toward the place where she had last seen Brown Eyes grazing. Nosy One usually stayed with his mother until the temptation to explore became too strong to resist. Calling and listening, she followed the stream which had carved out a path through the pasture land. Suddenly she heard the kid’s familiar bleat and looked down. The bank at her feet had given way and carried the inquisitive kid with it. It was half buried in soil, struggling to free itself, and obviously weakening fast.

Whispering soothing sounds and swearing softly under her breath, Tova clambered down the slope, careful not to dislodge any more earth on top of the young goat. The kid was quiet, watching her progress. She reached it and stroked it briefly, then started to shift the clods of earth and small stones which had it trapped. She had nearly finished when she heard a sound which made her freeze. It was a deep rolling growl, and it was very near.

Slowly she raised her head. On the opposite bank of the stream stood a magnificent mountain leopard, the most feared carnivore in Beta. Tova had seen leopards before, but never this close. Its mottled coat glowed in the late afternoon sun. Tova was struck by the gleam in its slanted eyes, but even more by its long curved white teeth. It was huge, it was beautiful, and the only thing that was making it hesitate was the water in the stream. Leopards don’t like getting their feet wet.

It growled once again, and sank a little down onto its haunches, prior to making its leap.

Make a noise. The best way to frighten a leopard is to be as big and noisy and unpredictable as possible. Her grandfather’s words rang in her ears.

    It was now or never. Tova sprang to her feet, striking her heavy shepherd’s staff on the rocks, waving her arms and screaming at the top of her voice. She felt the little goat heave itself from under the last covering of earth and race headlong up the bank behind her, driven by panic and the instinct to escape.

She held the leopard’s gaze for one long, startled moment, then it turned in a fluid movement and loped off up the slope. She kept up the beating and shouting until it was out of sight, then sank, gasping, to the ground, though not for long. The herd was waiting and the sun was setting. Still panting, she scrambled up the slope and ran back to the waiting animals. Nosy One was pressed close to his mother’s body, safe at last, and apparently none the worse for his encounter with death. Tova sank down beside him and stroked his impudent face.

Adventure is all very well, she whispered, but you need to come home safely, too. Today you nearly didn’t make it, little one.

Apart from the leopard, it was lovely and peaceful in the hills today, Tova told her grandmother as they ate their dinner, sitting on the floor by the fire in their tent.  She had described the young kid’s latest adventure and the encounter with the mountain leopard. She hadn’t mentioned the soldiers. After all, nothing had happened.

It wasn’t so peaceful in the village, retorted her grandmother. "The soldiers came again, burned two houses and dragged a couple of good men away to work in the mines. Said they’d been involved in ‘disruptive activities.’ No more harmful than owning a picture of the Great Lama, probably. Not that they usually bother with excuses to drag men off to the mines. That’s two more families suffering and two more men lost, to satisfy the greed of the Shan.

I heard that old Mother Anda tried casting a spell of protection for the men, but it didn’t work. The magic’s becoming more and more unreliable, she grumbled, poking the fire sharply, so that a myriad of sparks shot into the air.

Tova thought of the spell she had cast that afternoon. Grandmother, about the magic? she began, when suddenly the peace of the night was shattered by the frenzied barking of the watch dog tethered outside the tent.

Ho! Grandmother-la, came a shout from outside. It’s Oshon. My wife is giving birth. Please can you come.

Just a moment while I get my things, the old lady shouted back. We’ll talk later, girl. Do shut that dog up, will you? she added to Tova, who grabbed her warm cloak and ducked outside the tent. She laid her hand on the head of the excited hound which immediately stopped barking and licked her hand.

The man standing beyond the reach of the dog was holding the bridle of a patient horse, saddled ready for the grandmother to use. Tova held the old lady’s heavy basket as she mounted, then handed it up to her grandmother and fell into step behind Oshon as they set off across the plains.

Oshon strode quickly with the ease of one who is used to going long distances on foot, and Tova lengthened her stride in order to keep up. Her grandmother asked a few questions about the state of the pregnant woman and seemed satisfied with the answers.

The night sky was clear and moonless, and a brilliant blanket of stars hung over the land. They walked in silence for some time, without seeing any signs of habitation. Then Tova spotted the dim glow of a fire up against the dark shadow of the cliff-face and knew that they were near their destination. Oshon’s pace quickened, and they hurried down the slope to the tent. His guard dog was silent, sensing the presence of his master, and merely whined softly as the grandmother dismounted.

She and Tova passed under the heavy tent flap. Inside the tent there were candles and a couple of smoking oil lamps breaking the gloom, as well as the glow of the fire in the hearth. Oshon’s wife lay on a pile of rugs in the corner, moaning softly.

Grandmother-la, she gasped, attempting to sit up. Quickly the grandmother crouched beside her and supported her as a contraction shook her body.

Get some hot water ready, Tova, she commanded, and turned back to the woman on the bed. Let’s have a look, she said softly, and, moving quietly but with deliberation she made her inspection, humming to herself. The level of tension in the tent fell almost tangibly. Tova had often witnessed her grandmother’s uncanny ability to introduce calm into stressful situations, and always found it impressive and a little eerie.

The preparations for the birth were quickly made, and within an hour the woman was holding her new daughter, grinning with exhaustion and relief.  Tova called Oshon into the tent and witnessed the awe of a new father as he gazed on the sleeping face of his first child.

The grandmother was quietly tidying up in the corner of the tent. Then she approached the bed and Oshon drew back respectfully.

Do you have the amulet for the baby? she asked. The man took it out of the breast pocket of his tunic and held it out in the palm of his hand. The grandmother took it gently and turned to the baby in her mother’s arms.

This child, she said, holding the amulet above the baby’s head, brings with her the memory of countless aeons of being born, living, and dying. She will be intelligent and creative like her mother. Like her father, she will be patient and wise with animals.

She paused, then laying her hand on the baby’s head, she added, All things change, and this new daughter of Beta will grow up in a land of peace.  This I believe.

There was a reverent silence as she tied the amulet around the sleeping baby’s neck. Then Oshon muttered, Thank you, Grandmother-la. We are honoured by your presence here. He bowed his head to Tova, acknowledging her as well, in the correct manner.

Chapter Two

"Grandmother, at Oshon’s tent you said that Beta will be a land of peace. I’ve never heard you say that before. Have you seen something?" asked Tova later that night, as they sat before the fire drinking a bowl of tea before bed.

I have, said the old woman. I had a powerful dream last night, and I know for sure that change is coming.

Tova felt a sudden shiver of excitement. Her grandmother continued, This land is cursed. We Betans took a wrong turn many years ago, and we’ve paid dearly for our mistakes. We’ve been invaded, occupied and terrorised. We were powerless to resist. We were once the holders of powerful magic, but that has almost disappeared. Our children are growing up in fear and confusion, unsure of their beliefs and their culture.

Tova gazed mesmerised into her grandmother’s brown eyes, set deep within her wrinkled but still beautiful face.

For fifteen years I’ve wondered about the reasons for this immense and devastating change, she continued. Why did we allow ourselves to be invaded and overcome? Why have we lost so many of our brave men and women, and so many of our lamas, the guardians of our magical secrets? Why is the ancient magic slipping through our fingers?

She paused and gazed into the fire.

"Before the magic fades away completely, we need to find out why it’s happening and do something about it, otherwise Beta is lost.

My dream was clear; the answer lies with the Great Lama. I know for certain that he still lives. He’s somewhere in the mountains over the southern border. And I’ve seen the signs which will guide you to him.

Me? exclaimed Tova. But grandmother, I don’t know anything about making such a journey or talking to lamas. I’m a goatherd!

Well? So were your father and your grandfather before you. No, you’re the one who must go, Tova. I’m too old, and you have some magic in you. It must be you.

Looking closely at Tova’s horrified face, she said, "Don’t worry. You’ll find plenty of strength when you need it. Didn’t you defeat a leopard today? And besides, you’re young and strong and I know you’re itching for adventure. It’s a wonderful chance for you to see the world beyond this valley. And you must leave as soon as possible.

By the way, I don’t think I will be here when you return.

Grandmother!

No, no, I don’t mean dead! Don’t be so morbid, girl. But it’s time for me to go into the hills and meditate for a while. There’s a cave which will suit me very well. Oshon will look after our animals and bring me provisions. It’s all settled.

Tova felt as if she was aboard a runaway horse careering down a mountain path. One moment she had been daydreaming about adventure. Now suddenly it was happening, and everything seemed to be moving far too fast.

Her grandmother, however, was completely in control. Following her instructions, within a couple of days Tova had assembled a small but useful collection of travelling essentials which she packed into sturdy leather saddlebags. Oshon had been persuaded to part with a good horse and saddle in exchange for a pair of fine goats.

The night before she was due to leave, Tova sat by the fire putting the final touches to her travelling clothes. These had belonged to her father, and Tova had altered them to fit herself.

You can pass as a young man if you need to, said her grandmother. "It may be safer in some places, although you must be careful and keep clear of the Shan soldiers.

Use this mud and grease mixture to protect your face against the force of the sun and wear a broad brimmed hat to hide your face. If necessary you can use your father’s name, Tovon. That’s the right thing to do.

Tova had no memory of her father and mother, but her grandparents had often talked about them, and she had built up an image of them in her mind. As she sewed, she visualised her father, a stocky, energetic man with a lush moustache and long plaited hair, a piercing expression in his dark, slanted eyes. She buried her face into the fabric of the tunic, trying to catch the faint memory of her father’s smell in the clothes.

Be with me, father, she thought. Give me your bravery and daring. Be with me on this journey, mother. Help me with your courage and your wit. I really need you!

She bent over her sewing, trying not to let her nervousness show. Her grandmother, however, was watching her out of the corner of her eye as she busied herself with her cooking pots. Suddenly she said, quietly but firmly, Tova, I know you’re afraid. Do you think your father wasn’t afraid when he rode out to join the resistance? Your mother nearly tore herself to pieces at the thought of leaving you here. But they knew they had to go, and it was right that they did. Now it’s your turn.

By the time the sewing was finished and all the provisions had been assembled, it was nearly midnight. The grandmother stoked the fire, then went to the elaborately carved chest which sat under the family altar. From the chest she drew out her seeing stone, lovingly wrapped in silken fabric. 

She carefully unwrapped the stone and set it on the floor beside the fire. For a long time, she sat gazing into it, muttering incantations and rocking back and forwards. Tova waited patiently.  At last the old woman straightened up and pointed into the depths of the stone.

The signs are here, she said, "just as I saw them in my dream. Your quest is to find the way to rekindle the lost magic and free our country. The answer lies with the Great Lama.

"To reach him you must go south. You will cross the high mountains, and you will need to watch out for enemies among the snows. But you will also find friends and helpers where you don’t expect them.

"In a place where the trees grow tall and straight, you will see one shaped like an elbow. Here you will be set a puzzle to solve. You must do this, or else the quest will fail."

She was silent once again for a long time, and Tova wondered if she was meditating or had fallen asleep. Then she spoke once more.

The Great Lama is in a place where the sound of rushing water is deafening.  And he will not be what he seems. Watch for the sign.

What sign, grandmother?

The old woman leaned toward the stone and peered intently into it.

I don’t know, she said. I can’t see clearly any more. Come here, girl. You must look into the stone.

Tova had never been allowed to gaze into the seeing stone before. She crept forward. The stone