The Dominion Pulse Page 19

  “It’s an insult to a god as powerful as I,” Lir complained again. “And to be told to protect him from the predators of Tech Duinn, ridiculous!”

  Lir’s ranting and complaining reminded Conchar of the protective field that had held up against the fachen onslaught on the mountains of Caer Wydr. He quickly mouthed the chant and protected the Seeker once more, even if the pompous god of war and storms didn’t consider it necessary.

  Tech Duinn was one realm Conchar had knowledge of prior to stepping foot on a single stone in the Realm of the Dead. The Druid culture had passed down legends and tales from Tech Duinn, which was millennia old. Those stories told great tales of the many mighty magicks and gods upholding Druid traditions eventually leading to the resurrection of megaliths, trilithons, pyramids, and the growth of the necromancers. The most incredible stories revolved around Elathan, the mighty golden god, the Bringer of Death, and the Father of the Druids. Conchar found it hard to believe that Elathan had selected him above all others to be a part of his ultimate plans. It was a true honor.

  The Seeker seemingly skimmed over the surface like a stone skipped on a lake, pulling further and further ahead of Conchar and Lir. Conchar looked up at Lir—the god’s face had grown red and he was grinding his teeth in frustration.

  “What really angers me is Arawn. Why do we allow him to live?” Lir demanded.

  “I do not pretend to understand all of Elathan’s plans or decisions, but I trust that he will always choose to do what’s in our best interest,” Conchar offered.

  “His best interest, you mean.”

  Lir stomped ahead of Conchar, leaving the wizard to his own judgments.

  …

  The storm clouds rolled over Della’s head splashing her with a soft, cold rain and illuminating the world around her with massive bolts of lightning. Pucks hated to get wet, but she had little choice at that moment. She was alone and that was never a good thing in the wilds of Ann wn. Though she feared Arawn, so did everything else, so order was kept and peace was the norm. News of Arawn’s departure spread quickly and different clans began posturing themselves for dominance. She had already seen bands of Pucks and Goborchind edging into other clans’ territories. Arawn would call the leaders of the clans together in the past and usually a peaceful resolution could be negotiated, but without the Celtic warrior to preside and mediate, war was inevitable.

  Della finally came to the end of the large grassland and found a little coverage from the storm under a canopy of trees. Drops would still land on her head intermittently but that was a welcome change from the deluge. She looked around and a wave of loneliness slammed into her gut. Her own clan disowned her in the harshest of ways, and the gods she used to serve would just as soon kill her as they would make her a slave, but at least she felt needed by them. Sure they used her to their own ends, but she wasn’t alone, not like she was now.

  Some rustling in the trees over her head drew her attention. It was difficult to see through the leaves and the drops of water that would splash into her face, but she most definitely picked out a dark somebody fifteen feet above her head. A pair of eyes glowed and stared down at her; she thought of the multitude of predators stalking in the night. Della didn’t waste any time in jumping up and preparing to make a run for it.

  The creature was fast and wasn’t going to let her escape that easily; it quickly dropped down and blocked her path. She turned to go the other way, but six others dropped from the trees as well and trapped her in the middle. The situation was way too reminiscent of what she had just experienced with her fellow Pucks. She cursed herself for her stupidity at getting caught in the same trap. Besides that, it was still dark and she had no idea who they were or why they were doing this.

  One of the dark figures slapped his arm across his chest to create a small amount of light. Della recognized glow root instantly, as well as who here captors were. Seven Gaborchind stood around her, gripping their daggers and eyeing her cautiously. The Gaborchind were twice as tall as Della with stout frames that were human-like and heads that were similar to the goats of Earth.

  “A Puck has dared to enter our lands?” the Gaborchind with the glow root asked.

  “Wait, Wassit,” a female said. “Not just any Puck, but the messenger of the condemned.”

  Wassit’s lips curled. “Is this so, Puck? Are you a messenger for them?”

  “I was,” Della said honestly. It was obvious to her that they knew, and there was no sense in lying. “My name is Della.”

  The goat-headed brood looked at each other in confusion. “Was?”

  “They have been freed by the golden god Elathan,” Della informed them.

  “Elathan?” The Gaborchind’s demeanor shifted instantly from confident guardsman to absolutely and visibly shaken. “And what of Arawn?”

  “Lir and Argona subdued him and took him off Ann wn,” she answered.

  “She lies,” a red-furred goat man accused, bringing his blade closer to her neck.

  The first speaker held up his hand and the angry soldier stepped back in frustration. “No, I believe her. Arawn has not been seen in weeks.”

  “With no Arawn, the realm will fall into chaos, Wassit!” the soldier said in a rush.

  Wassit tossed the glow root onto the ground and knelt down to look Della in the eye. “Do you know the ramifications of these events, messenger?” Della remained silent. “Those you served are dangerous indeed, but they serve the one who has pure evil in his golden heart. Elathan is the Bringer of Death, and until now he has been delayed by Nuada and those who serve the side of righteousness, but aside from Arawn, the rest have all but abandoned Otherworld and Earth.”

  “You know of Earth?” Della asked.

  “Nuada brought several of our clansmen to Earth to act as a sort of bridge between the humans and the magicks, but Elathan wanted no such relationship to occur. He brought Dewi and his army of dragons, Brags, Bendiths, and Redcaps to Earth. He unleashed Selkies and Kelpies. He had his own sect of humans that he called necromancers or Druids to try and remake the dominate life forms into something that didn’t disgust him. Worst of all, he brought Caoranach from the pits of Tech Duinn to create a hell on Earth.”

  “Wait, the creature from those stories my mum used to spin to keep me in line? That Caoranach? I thought she was just legend!” Della exclaimed.

  “She’s very real,” Wassit replied. “If it weren’t for Arawn and Argona, then Caoranach would have been able to mutate every living thing on Earth. They got to her quickly but even they could only imprison her.”

  “What of her now?” the Puck asked.

  Wassit shook his head. “No one can be sure. Soon after Argona left Arawn to side with Elathan, Nuada had Arawn change the location of Caoranach’s prison, but that’s all that is known of her.” Wassit studied Della and knew that the graveness of Elathan’s return was understood. “Nuada moved all Gaborchind back to Otherworld when he found out that the mother of demons was to be unleashed on the Earth. He didn’t want our kind to be altered by her poisoned powers.” Wassit sighed. “Nuada was a kind god, but he is nowhere to be found, and now that Arawn has been defeated, I’m not sure how Otherworld and Earth will fair.”

  “Why did you say that you were the messenger? Do you not serve them even now?” a female Gaborchind asked.

  “When they defeated Arawn they just left and didn’t give me a second glance,” Della recounted. “I’m free. I’m finally free.”

  Wassit nodded. “You are free, but do not think for a moment that Elathan will sit idle. When he does choose to act, all of our freedom will be at an end.”

  …

  “It’s good to be home,” Frank said, stepping out of the megalith at Sam’s Creek. “Although this particular spot isn’t that dear to my heart.”

  Lizzie moved past Frank and looked out at the still-charred earth and the megaliths that blemished the landscape with their presence. Her eyes moistened as she thought about her father and how they had failed to g
et him back.

  Brendan put his hand on his sister’s shoulder and gave her a soft, reassuring squeeze. “We’ll get him back, Liz. You can count on it.”

  She turned and looked up at him. “Can you promise because we don’t even know if he’s still alive?” She knew he couldn’t—no one could—but maybe hearing it from her big brother would give her hope.

  He pursed his lips at the thought and then he cleared his throat. “I know he is. I’ve seen him recently.”

  “What! Where?” Lizzie demanded.

  “I’ve been having a different sort of vision lately. It’s really weird because there is always this heartbeat and at first I thought it was his. None of the visions were that clear, so I couldn’t be sure. Each time I have one of these heart visions the picture gets a little bit clearer, and the last time it happened I got a good look at Dad.” He looked directly at his sister. “So I know he’s okay, at least for now, Liz.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier, Brendan? I have a right to know.”

  “I know you do. I’m sorry, but there was more and I didn’t want to worry you.” He looked at his kid sister and saw that she wasn’t going to wait much longer. “Conchar was there and it looked like Dad had led him to something… something powerful.”

  “Like what, Brendan?” Frank asked cautiously.

  Brendan shook his head. “I can’t be sure.”

  Dorian moved in front of Lizzie and hugged her. “We all know that there aren’t guarantees in life, but there is always hope. Fantastic things happen all the time, and you have to believe that together we can do fantastic things, Lizzie. If there is any way to rescue Oscar, then we’ll find it.”

  “What the flip happened here?” Rohl asked, stepping around the larger people of their small group.

  “Elathan happened here, you dolt,” Garnash answered.

  “Oh,” Rohl said, his expression shifting from curious to anxious. “He’s not here now, right?”

  “If he were, then we’d all be dead,” Garnash replied.

  Brendan walked towards the scorched ground and knelt at its center, reaching down to take a handful of the decaying foliage and dirt and let it fall through his fingers. He shook off the mess and stood up, looking at the area for the first time since he had left for Corways.

  This place felt heavy to Brendan. Here he felt as if he not only the safety of the world reseted on his shoulders, but also the responsibility of his entire bloodline. So many impactful things had happened on these Wampanoag grounds. Through visions, he had witnessed Toren O’Neal take his last stand against Conchar leaving young Sorcha and Samoset to take on the responsibility of defending the Earth. Brendan himself had almost died at the hands of Elathan on these grounds, and if it weren’t for Lizzie and the others he would have. This piece of land saw him fail when his father needed him most; it witnessed him losing his father to space and time.

  Frank was right. This place was filled with reminders of defeat. The god had seemingly scorched a reminder of those failures into the Earth, a clear statement that no matter how hard Brendan tried he was never going to win.

  “This is wrong,” Brendan said, finally. “This place belongs to Elathan. Bibe said that her house was no longer suitable since Camulos tainted it somehow, so there’s no way that we should or would be able to train here.”

  “Where do you suggest then?” Lizzie asked.

  “We need some place that is still untouched but welcomes magicks,” Dorian reminded them.

  “Bollocks! Why didn’t I think of it earlier?” Garnash shouted.

  “Probably because you’re daft,” offered Rohl.

  “Maybe I am, but I think I know where we need to go,” Garnash replied, pleased with himself.

  “Spit it out,” Dorian demanded.

  “We need to go talk to Ken,” he said, grinning larger than ever. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see me again.”

  The realization dawned on Brendan. The Celtic Heritage House at Syracuse had fairies all over the place. “Maybe that would work, but I don’t remember seeing any room there near the size of the training grounds that Bibe had at her place.”

  “Remember, hon, you’re not dealing with human realities any longer. You are in the world of magicks, and here anything is possible,” Dorian reminded him.

  “I don’t think we have anything to lose by checking,” Frank added.

  “Be ready, lads,” Garnash began. “It’s a long walk.”

  “Man, where’s a griffin when you need one?” Frank said.

  Lizzie gave him a curious look and the two shared a brief laugh. Everyone knew Frank was terrified of flying on Griffin’s back. They let the laughter be the start of their journey to the CHH.

  …

  The group passed right through the woods, avoiding the normal road and worn paths made by nature enthusiasts hoping to avoid other people—especially the police. The trees were thick with leaves, so the large black raven was having trouble spotting them from the treetops. Her eyes were alert and scanning. It wasn’t likely that Camulos would be around, and certainly not Elathan since she assumed that the golden god was still in the midst of his preparations, but still, she was motherly in her approach to her duties. It was a shame that events had unfolded like they did, otherwise they would all be safe in her Blackhouse. Circumstances had changed her plans in training Brendan and the others, and at this point experience would be the best teacher, although she would keep a watchful eye on them even if she couldn’t physically intercede.

  She was careful not to crow since it was imperative that she wasn’t discovered in this form, not that this bird’s body would be very helpful to the Protectors anyhow. It only served Bibe so that she could monitor the protectors’ progress, something that would be difficult to do since she was no longer on Earth.

  …

  Argona slipped down the prison corridor and glanced into Arawn’s cell. In the past he had been sprawled out on the floor or lying on his stone bench, but this time Camulos had attached a chain and pulley system between two of the large stone pillars that imprisoned Arawn. The war god had shackled Arawn’s wrists and ankles and strung him up so that he was prone and made to stand for his scheduled beating. Camulos was long gone by the time Argona ventured into the cell to find the Celtic warrior hanging limply against his chains.

  “Arawn?” she called out quietly.

  He drew in a deep breath and raised his head slightly to see her standing before him. “Argona?”

  She stepped closer. This was the worst that Arawn had looked after a visit from Camulos. “Your face… ” she began to say, but the rest of the words caught in her throat.

  “Camulos is relentless, but he will never succeed.” Arawn’s neck muscles relented and his head fell towards his chin.

  “You know Elathan will find her sooner or later,” Argona pointed out. “Save yourself this agony, Arawn.”

  “He will never find her!” he shouted. “He can’t, or it will all be over.”

  “How can you hope to stand in his way?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest.

  “Earth and Otherworld’s fates are not linked to my destiny.” He looked up with a hardened expression and gazed into Argona’s soft, beautiful eyes. “Life itself hinges on the blade of Earth’s Protector.”

  “A human?” she scoffed. “That’s madness even for you.”

  “All I have to do is hold out long enough, and the Protectors will have the opportunity they need to return order.”

  “And if Caoranach is found before these Protectors get the chance?” she asked.

  “Then it will be too late for everyone, including you and the other gods and goddesses.”

  Argona had heard enough. Elathan had made promises; she was going to profit in ways Arawn could never fathom. She recently had begun to doubt her decision to leave the shortsighted demigod all those years ago, but his obnoxious loyalty to Earth was a good reminder. This moment is where his foolishness had gotten him. This wa
s where he was going to make his last stand: strung up like a common thief, dead in a dungeon.

  She turned on her heels and marched out of the cell.

  “Loyalty means nothing to Elathan, Argona! He will use you and kill you for the fun of it!” he shouted after her.

  His calls fell on deaf ears as Argona headed back to the main chamber, eager to receive her next instructions.

  …

  Elathan didn’t smile often, but when he felt the protection on Arawn’s mind crack ever-so-slightly, he knew that finding Caoranach was much more in reach. She was important to his plans since her powers of transmutation far outceded any other being’s ability, whether necromancer or god.

  Now, Elathan could sense her essence. She wasn’t close, but his powers had grown exponentially since his return to Otherworld and his conquest of three realms. He was looking forward to the omnipotence he would gain once all of the realms belonged to him. By that time he may not even need Arawn to reveal Caoranach’s location.

  Still, having her at my side earlier would benefit and hasten my ascension. Elathan closed his eyes and quieted his golden mind as he reached out into all of the space and time available to him. Caoranach’s face bubbled into view, though he couldn’t see her location. He had heard the stories about Caoranach, the mother of demons, and how her powers had contorted her appearance into her namesake, but once he found her all of those years ago he, discovered that those were lies. Caoranach was exquisite, her radiance rivaling any of the so-called goddesses of beauty that flitted around Tir na nOg. Her face was unchanged and as lovely as ever.

  “Caoranach?” Elathan whispered. “Caoranach?”

  The Mother of Demons’ eyelids flickered slightly, like she was having a dream that seemed too real, but they remained closed.

  The concentration to hold her image in his mind’s eye was enormous. It became too much and the connection disappeared. Elathan wasn’t upset, however, because he knew this was a process, a process that would lead him to ultimate power.