The Dominion Pulse Read online

  “True, but Griffin is already scouting Scotland, and maybe he’ll find her and make it that much easier on the rest of us,” Dorian noted.

  Brendan nodded, but he was worried, not so much about finding Bibe but about his friends and loved ones. “Maybe we should just tell Frank to stay home. I can set Lizzie up at a friend’s house and she can start back to school.”

  Dorian lifted her head and looked at Brendan wryly. “I know you think you can protect us by keeping us out of all this, but the fact is that when Elathan does come back, the whole world is in danger. They want to stop that from happening, too, Brendan. You have to trust them.”

  “It’s not about trusting them,” shot Brendan. He regretted his harsh tone immediately and took a breath. “I’m not sure I trust myself anymore.”

  Dorian stroked his cheek and kissed his lips. “That’s why we’re all in this together. There is strength in numbers, love.”

  He nodded, but the aches and pains in his body made him hang on to the doubt in the quiet of his mind.

  …

  “What do you make of it, Detective?”

  Simmons shrugged and unwrapped a stick of gum. “Some giant rocks, Edwards. What do I look like, an archeologist? Why did you call me out here?”

  “Look at the symbols and designs all over these megaliths, sir,” Officer Edwards said, pointing to the new editions to the Sam’s Creek area.

  “Megaliths?” Simmons said, rolling his eyes. “Symbols, huh? Sounds like we need Fox and Mulder or maybe Indiana Jones. What do you think, Edwards, should we give them a call?”

  Edwards, undeterred by Simmons’ crassness, pulled out his smartphone. “This area is a habitat for the short-eared owl.”

  “And?”

  “And there is a conservatory that has a camera in that nest on the ground over there near the thick tree. You can see the wiring leading up to a solar panel and a transceiver up there.” His finger followed the path of the wire up to a transmitting antenna sticking out of the top of the tree.

  Simmons glanced up and shrugged. “And?” he repeated.

  “Well, these megaliths just appeared here last month out of nowhere. No work permits, not a single group to claim responsibility.”

  “I’m not investigating aliens, Edwards. What does this have to do with me?” Simmons folded his arms across his chest and waited, growing less patient by the second.

  “My wife is a high school science teacher and her class is studying endangered species and one of her students ran across this video.”

  Edwards hit the play button and handed the phone to Simmons. The detective squinted and watched the grainy greenish video on the three-inch screen. A nest with about ten eggs sat exposed to the world with nothing else really happening until Simmons saw a person walk into view. It really meant nothing until the young man turned and walked directly towards the camera. That’s when it hit Simmons.

  “Brendan O’Neal,” Simmons said in disbelief.

  “That’s why I called you, sir,” Edwards said with a bit of a satisfied edge.

  “Do we know what happened after this video?”

  Edwards shook his head. “No, the signal was lost. Actually, that’s how these megaliths were discovered. A scientist from the conservatory came out to restore the feed and he found them.”

  “Find out everything you can about the video and this place.” Simmons began walking away. He paused and turned back to Edwards. “We have to find Brendan O’Neil. He’s dangerous.”

  …

  Camulos arrived at Elathan’s Tech Duinn megaliths in a flash of golden light. He had only been to Tech Duinn on a handful of occasions, never having gone without an invitation from the most powerful god in the Realm of the Dead. This visit was no different.

  He stepped out onto a thin bridge that connected the small island housing the megaliths to a massive castle that had been carved right into the side of the mountain’s face. Veins of gold glistened in stark contrast to the chiseled dark stone surface. Turrets, curtain walls, and flanking towers made it hard to believe that it was not a freestanding castle.

  He strode across the bridge and noted the heat from the lake of fire beneath his feet. The god of war carried his metallic war helmet under one arm and gripped the handle of his sword in the other. He glanced down as he walked and caught his reflection in the shiny metal of his barbut head protector. He had to admit that he looked slightly afraid of meeting Elathan face-to-face after all of these years. He doubted his visage in the ram’s head helmet would do much to intimidate the golden god if it came to that.

  As Camulos reached the large stone door, it dragged and scrapped across the ground, allowing him to enter. A beautiful maiden waited for him in the foyer.

  “Welcome, Camulos,” she said with a bow. “I am Meghan of Mag Mell. Lord Elathan has been expecting you.”

  “Lead on, Banshee.” He followed Meghan from the foyer into a great throne room. The temperature in the room was frigid compared to the exterior of the castle where the fire lake blazed. Camulos took one step into the room and exhaled a clouded breath. His boots click-clacked on the stone floor as he walked cautiously, not wanting to slip if it was icy—surprisingly, it wasn’t.

  Meghan closed the door behind him, and he found himself all alone in the cavernous room. Torches hung on the wall and from suspended chandeliers—bright with blue and white flames—giving a strange, almost surreal ambiance. It appeared to Camulos that even the fire was frozen in Elathan’s castle.

  “Camulos.” His name echoed off the walls and the flames flickered in response to the voice of the castle’s master.

  The war god scanned the room for Elathan, but he didn’t appear to be anywhere in sight. “Lord Elathan?” he asked, his voice showing only the slightest hint of his nervousness.

  The distant shadows on the far end of the massive room lightened and Camulos could see the form of the golden god sitting stoically on his throne. A soft golden beam illuminated the golden god coming from somewhere high in the rafters.

  “Come closer,” Elathan requested.

  Camulos strutted forward, his hand still loosely on the hilt of his sword, a habit that the warrior in him could never quite relinquish even in Elathan’s powerful presence. The war god had keen eyes and took in everything he could as he neared Elathan’s throne. The space was empty with the exception of a necromancer in a black cloak.

  “Lord Elathan,” Camulos said with a bow, his eyes never leaving the golden god. “I am pleased to see that you have returned to Otherworld.”

  “As am I, Camulos,” Elathan said evenly. “This is Conchar and he is of my chosen bloodline and has proven himself above all others.”

  “More so than Warnach?” Camulos said with a raised brow.

  Elathan was quiet and observed the youthful god. “Both will be part of my revolution, as are you and our fellow brethren being held by the traitor, Arawn.”

  A snarl tugged at Camulos’s lips at the mention of that hated name. “Now that you’re back, Lord Elathan, it would be my pleasure to lead the assault on Arawn.”

  “You’ll need to get in line, handsome,” Meghan said, leading her sisters into the chamber.

  “We want Arawn dead more than anyone here!” Farron shouted.

  “It was our clan he murdered,” Isobel echoed.

  Elathan raised his hand, and all of their voices fell silent. “In time, Arawn will meet the same fate as all those who oppose me,” Elathan growled, looking each of his followers in the eye. “He will die.”

  …

  Since Elathan’s castle was carved deep into the mountain, it had many rooms and halls that seemingly went on for miles beneath the massive weight above it. The Seeker was in one of the rooms deep within the passages lying on the stone floor, his mind somewhere across the tether in Earth.

  Oscar O’Neal was trapped in his own mind, but he didn’t realize it. He thought he was back at home in Kingston in his soft, warm bed. Brendan was off at Syracuse and Lizzie was
probably already up making breakfast before she rushed off to school. The alarm should be going off anytime now.

  …

  “I’m sort of nervous to meet your family,” Lizzie said quietly to Frank.

  They had just exited a bus in front of Frank’s aunt’s apartment on Rosswood Avenue. Garnash, Frank, and Lizzie had arrived in the megaliths in Brookstone Park with little fanfare. Though it was during the day, no one seemed to notice the arrival. They cautiously exited the park on the opposite side of the police station, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention before catching a bus that was heading north. One connection and 25 minutes later, they arrived at Frank’s aunt’s home.

  “You’re nervous?” Frank scoffed. “Oh, please, this is the same girl that tossed a giant out of a town with only a staff. What do you have to be nervous about?”

  Lizzie shrugged. “This is different. I always feel like I’m being judged when I meet new people, and this is ten times that since I’m your girlfriend.”

  “Relax, Lizzie,” Garnash said, sitting invisibly on Frank’s shoulder. “They’re going to love you.”

  Lizzie, Frank, and Garnash reached the fifth floor of the apartment building and stood outside of a freshly painted door. Lizzie recognized that right away since some of the other doors were chipped and peeling.

  “My aunt’s name is Kim and my grandmother is Cecilia, but you can call her CeCe.” Frank knocked on the door and then they took a step back.

  The bolted lock was thrown and the door opened as wide as the chain would allow. A woman’s eye peeked out through the opening and then she screamed. “Frank!”

  The door shut and the chain was unlatched. Aunt Kim threw the door open and jumped up to hug Frank. “It’s about time you got home.”

  “Sorry, Aunt Kim, we got caught up with something,” Frank replied.

  Kim looked past him at Lizzie and put her hand on her hip. “Uh-huh, I bet you did.”

  “Come on, Aunt Kim,” Frank said with a sigh.

  Kim opened the door wider and let Frank and Lizzie inside. “Want something to drink?”

  “No, thank you,” Lizzie replied.

  “This is Lizzie,” Frank said, introducing his girlfriend with a hint of anxiety.

  “Uh-huh,” Aunt Kim said with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Lizzie said in a rush. “You have a nice home, Kim.”

  Kim held her same expression and then said, “Mmmmhmmm.” She turned away and walked into the kitchen and poured a couple of sodas for the teens, despite the fact that no one wanted one. “I’ll go get Mama CeCe.”

  “Wait, Aunt Kim,” Frank said, reaching out and touching her on the shoulder before she got too far away. “There’s something I need to talk with you about.” Frank led his aunt to the couch in the living room and they sat down. Lizzie chose to stand near the wall by the kitchen.

  “What is it, Frank?” Kim asked with concern etched on her face.

  Frank took a deep breath. “Okay, I will need to go away for a little while, and we need to talk about what to do about Grandma CeCe.”

  “You’ve already been gone a month, Franklin,” Kim pointed out. “What do you think you need to do? Are you in trouble with the law? ‘Cause if you are… ”

  Frank shook his head and waved off her concerns. “Believe me, I wouldn’t leave Grandma if it wasn’t important.” Frank stared her in the eyes, pleading for her to understand the gravity of his circumstance. “You know me and you know how much Grandma means to me.”

  Kim shook her head. “Frank, I know that, but I can’t keep her here. It’s been so cramped since she’s come.”

  Frank looked back at Lizzie. “Look, I was able to cash in my savings, and I took out a loan so that we can have her tended to by a nurse or even in a retirement home.”

  “You want to move Mama CeCe into a home? Are you crazy? And that is so expensive, Frank. How are you going to afford that?”

  Frank reached into his back pocket and took out a check from a bank. The Leprechauns had given him the equivalent of $300,000 in gold that Frank exchanged for cash in Ireland. Dorian had taken him to a guy the villagers always went to when they needed human currency. He didn’t want to take the money, but he also knew that he couldn’t help Lizzie and her brother if he didn’t accept it. Grandma CeCe needed to be cared for and taking her to Corways was out of the question since Elathan and his crew could come back there at any time. This was the best option.

  Kim took the check and opened it up. Her eyes nearly fell out of her head upon seeing the dollar amount. “Frank,” she said in a hushed voice. “Is this legal money? Did you rob someone?”

  “Of course not!” he replied, both hurt and annoyed. “I know it looks fishy, but it’s legit. I promise you.”

  Frank got to his feet and helped his aunt to hers. “You take care of her the best way you can. She can go back to her place, a home, or you could get a bigger place and she can live with you, or whatever you need to do.”

  Frank led Lizzie down the hallway to where his grandmother was watching TV. He peeked his head in and smiled. His eyes almost immediately became moist, so he took in a deep breath and tried to avoid looking at Lizzie. Her touch on his shoulder gave him comfort and strength.

  “Go on, Frank,” Garnash encouraged from Frank’s other shoulder.

  CeCe turned and looked at her grandson and his girlfriend. “Well there you are, Reggie. I can’t believe you are already back from the army. It seems like yesterday that you were heading off to boot camp, and now here you are.”

  Frank came in and sat on the bed beside his grandmother while Lizzie hung back near the doorway. “Look, Grandma, I want you to meet Lizzie. She’s very special to me.”

  “That’s wonderful, Reggie,” CeCe smiled broadly.

  “I’m going to be going away for awhile,” Frank stated with a bit of a shake in his voice. “I may not be coming back, but I will do my best to try to, I promise you.”

  “That’s nice dear, but who’s your little friend?” CeCe asked.

  Frank looked over at Garnash who had made himself visible only to Frank and Lizzie. “Aren’t you invisible?” Frank whispered.

  “Yeah, and a lot of good it did me,” Garnash said, coming back into view.

  “I like his accent,” CeCe commented with a smile.

  “I like yours, too,” Garnash replied with a bow. “We’ll look out for Frank, ma’am.”

  “Okay, you kids play nice,” she advised, turning her attention back to The Price is Right.

  “It was nice meeting you, Grandma CeCe,” Lizzie said with a wave.

  Frank leaned over and gave his grandmother the biggest hug that he could remember giving her. If this was going to be the last one, then it needed to be the best one.

  Frank, Lizzie, and an invisible Garnash came back into the living room and said farewell to his aunt before they left.

  “I’m glad Kim didn’t try to kill you,” Frank joked to Lizzie.

  “It’s funny how her mood changed after you gave her that check,” she laughed.

  Frank knew that his family was taken care of for the time being; that was enough to lighten his heart and get him ready for the adventure of a lifetime.

  …

  “Still licking your wounds?” Ashfel jived, his bushy beard bouncing as he laughed.

  D’Quall looked up from his barrel of ale and sneered at his fellow Descendant of Magog. Ashfel was bigger than most Magogs—which was saying something since they averaged fifteen feet in height—and he had an ego to match. Most of the Magogs were more concerned with the success of the clan, but Ashfel was more concerned with his own hunger and counting his kills.

  “Watch your tongue, Ashfel, or I will rip it from your mouth,” D’Quall threatened.

  Ashfel turned to the gathered Magogs sitting around the bonfire in the center of the Magog’s home village outside of Leeds, England. “Do you see our Bloodright Lord? Do you see our king?” He moved around D�
�Quall aggressively. “We bought into his garbage about the Leprechauns and this chance at a return to glory! He led us into a bloodbath only to be thrown miles away by a girl.”

  D’Quall stewed as Ashfel blathered.

  “A girl, mind you, a tiny, human girl nearly killed our leader!” Ashfel gave a hearty laugh and then turned his hard eyes to D’Quall. “You’re not fit to be the Bloodright Lord, D’Quall. I think it’s time you stepped down.”

  D’Quall stood up, knowing that he was going to have to defend his position. Normally, he would have argued for hours and insulted Ashfel until his ears bled, but he wasn’t in the mood to keep with tradition. The time for talk was over.

  The Bloodright Lord thrust his arm out and punched the large giant squarely in the throat, crushing Ashfel’s larynx. Ashfel grabbed at his neck as gurgling sounds choked their way out from between his lips. D’Quall took his time and walked behind his foe and then kicked Ashfel on the back of the knees, knocking him into a kneeling position.

  “I will lead us to the time of glory!” D’Quall shouted to the gathered Magogs. He grabbed Ashfel’s head in both hands and twisted until he heard a hard crack, and the large Magog went limp. He scanned over the crowd and waited for others to show their dissension. “Anyone else of like mind with our outspoken traitor, come forward now and we can have a similar conversation.”

  Though many of the gathered Magogs eyed him warily, no one stepped forward, and D’Quall stomped away. He went to the outskirts of the Magog’s camp and stared up at the clouds that were rolling in from the southwest. Killing Ashfel did little to ease his mind, which surprised him since ending someone’s life often did, but there were others whom he wanted to kill more.

  The rain began to fall, pelting his face with large English drops. The wind howled, and thunder and lightning began their concert, but D’Quall’s hatred for the Seeker’s daughter made the storm seem like a drizzle.

  “Daughter O’Neal!” he screamed into the wind. “I will find you and your friends, and I will destroy you!”