by N. P. Martin
So I chose not to give my fear any more power.
And then I stepped forward into the portal.
Chapter 17
When I stumbled out of the exit portal, for a horrifying second I thought I had emerged into the wrong place, for I now found myself in the center of a raging storm. Heavy rain was being driven by near gale force winds, and overhead thunder boomed and lightning flashed, all of which made visibility difficult. As the portal closed up behind me, I soon saw that I was standing in the middle of a field, though I still had no idea where. Looking around me in the pitch darkness, it was difficult to see beyond a few feet, especially with the rain, which was coming down in sheets. I was drenched within moments. "Shit!" I said as I continued to look around, wondering which direction I should move in, all the while hoping that I was at least close to the tower. Then a bolt of lightning flashed, illuminating the tumultuous sky, and for a split second, I caught sight of the looming tower in the distance, seeming to be about half a mile away. "Thank god…"
I began to run toward the tower in the distance, tramping through the sodden field, pushing my way through the driving rain until I eventually reached an old graveyard right next to an abandoned church. The tower was only fifty yards from the church, and as the lightning flashed again, I saw Sorcha still on top of the tower, though this time I could see she wasn’t actually standing on the tower itself, but that she was floating just above it. I also saw something like a long box floating there as well, which I took to be the Arc of Annihilation based on the way its metal surface reflected the lightning. To my horror, I also saw a person lying across the top of the Arc, naked and screaming, a woman by the sounds of it. As the lightening flashed once more, I caught the sight of Sorcha standing over her victim, both hands raised above her as she held onto something that was most likely a sacrificial dagger, which meant she was about to make her final sacrifice and unleash the power of the Arc.
"Sorcha!" I shouted as I ran toward the tower. When I reached the hexagonal base, I cast a Levitation Spell and began to levitate to the top of the twenty-two meter high tower, stopping when I was level with Sorcha. She still wore the same tatty black and white dress, and her long dark hair seemed wilder than ever as it blew up around her. Her dark eyes were wide and slightly crazed as she held aloft the long dagger in her hands. The naked woman splayed across the top of the Arc seemed to struggle against restraints that weren’t there, which meant Sorcha was using her magic to hold the woman down. When the woman saw me hovering there in the rain, she screamed as much out of fear as for me to help her.
"I told you to stay away!" Sorcha shouted over the noise of the thunder overhead.
"You need to stop!" I told her. "You don’t have to do this!"
Something like a smile creased her lips. "You have no idea what’s happening here, do you?"
"You’re trying to end the bloody world!"
She shook her head. "Not end it, darken it."
"What?"
Before she could expand any further, Hedrema suddenly rose up out of nowhere and made her way around to Sorcha. "The fool doesn’t know anything," she said as she glared at me. "Finish this, daughter!"
Confused, I stared at them both, wondering what the hell was going on. Then Manannán’s final words to me echoed in my mind…
Tread carefully, Corvin Chance, for not everything on the hero’s path is at it seems…
Clearly bloody not. Though before I could get a chance think much about it, I saw Sorcha begin to bring the dagger down toward the woman on the Arc. Without thinking, I sent a bolt of electrical energy her way, hoping to knock her off her game long enough that I could rush forward and wrestle the dagger from her hands. But with Hedrema there, I should’ve known my attack wouldn’t work. She merely used her staff to block the energy bolt before it could hit Sorcha.
That’s when I remembered the Hand of Drakkar. The whole reason I had gone to great lengths to obtain it was so I could not only find Sorcha, but drain her of her power. Even if she plunged the dagger into the woman below her, without her power, the ritual wouldn’t be completed. It takes blood and magic to activate an artifact like the Arc, or at least, that’s what I thought anyway.
But besides that, there was also something else, something of much greater consequence that I could barely bring myself to think about. If I used the Hand to drain Sorcha of her power, then she would no longer be able to lift the curse off Dalia. By using the Hand on Sorcha, I would effectively be killing Dalia at the same time. But if I didn’t use the Hand, Sorcha would potentially be killing a lot more people. Even if the Arc did something different to what I initially thought it did—to what Hedrema said it would—I had no doubt the effects would still be dire for the human world. Sorcha hadn’t done everything she did for nothing, which was especially true since it now seemed she had been acting under the guidance of Hedrema all along. Sorcha had been working with her mother this whole time, not against her.
I thrust the Hand out in front of me as I focused on Sorcha. "This is the Hand of Drakkar," I warned her. "I’ll use it to drain you of every last drop of power you have."
Sorcha smiled as if she wasn’t worried at all, which threw me slightly. She was about to say something when her mother stopped her. "Go ahead," Hedrema said. "Just know that in doing so, you will be killing Dalia in the process."
Sorcha lowered the dagger then, as if she was waiting for me to make good on my threat. Both of them now stared at me expectantly as I kept the Hand thrust out in front of me, even though I had no idea of how to use it. "What does the Arc really do?" I asked them, stalling for time as much as anything else.
"It will release the power of nightmares into the human world," Hedrema said. "On this island at least. Humans have become so distracted by everything these days that nightmares don’t have the power they once did. The Arc will ensure that every human is plunged into a world of terror every time they enter sleep. Eventually, their souls will become darker and all that darkness and terror will be tuned outward, on each other, blackening the collective psyche of the whole population, and I shall feed on it and it shall grow my power exponentially."
I shook my head in disbelief. "You lied to me. You lied to Dalia. Why?"
She pointed her staff at the Hand of Drakkar. "You’re holding it, you fool. I wanted the Hand, but there was no way Manannán would ever give me it himself, so I needed someone to get it for me, someone foolish enough to not even ask what its real power is."
"Real power?"
"Use it," Hedrema said. "Drain Sorcha of her power, I dare you."
I didn’t need to try and use the Hand, at least not to drain Sorcha of her power, because I knew it wouldn’t work. It was never going to work, because that’s not what the Hand did. As I remembered the vision of Hedrema attacking me, it dawned on me what the Hand’s real power actually was: It foretold the future.
"You just wanted the Hand all along," I said dumbly.
"Yes," Hedrema said smiling. "Along with the power I will gain from the Arc, the Hand will allow me to stay one step ahead of my enemies so I can crush them all and reign supreme." Then, as if as an afterthought, she added, "With Sorcha by my side, of course."
I looked at Sorcha. "Do you really believe that? She abandoned you. She had you locked up. She doesn’t give a shit about you."
Sorcha’s former self-assurance faltered as she stared back at me. "I am her daughter," she said, as if trying to convince herself.
"No," I said. "You’re a mistake, something she never wanted. She’s only using you to get what she wants, which is more power. That’s all she cares about, not you."
"Silence your mouth, human!" Hedrema said.
Ignoring her, I kept my gaze on Sorcha, who looked uncertain about everything now. "She might not care for you, but Dalia does. Dalia was your friend, and you are going to let her die for her, for someone who—"
That’s as far as I got before Hedrema let out a blast of energy from her staff that sent me sailing
back through the air I don’t know how many feet before I started to fall toward the ground. Before I could do anything to stop myself, the ground came upon me and I slammed into it, landing on the wet grass with a heavy thump. For long moments, all I could do was lie there, afraid to move in case something was broken, like my back. But I soon realized the soft grass had cushioned my fall enough to prevent any real injury. If I’d hit the gravestone just a few inches away, things would’ve been different.
I sat up, intending to levitate to the top of the tower again to confront Sorcha once more, but before I could, Hedrema suddenly appeared in front of me and pinned me back down with her staff. "You’ve served your purpose, human," she snarled. "I’ll dispose of you shortly, once my daughter has done what she’s supposed to do." She turned her head to look up at Sorcha then, who was still floating at the top of the tower, the woman below her pleading for her life. "Finish it, Sorcha! Complete the ritual! You are the only one who can."
Helpless to even move, I stared in horror up at Sorcha as she raised the dagger above her head once more. From this distance, she was just a silhouette, until the lightening flashed and I saw clearly her face; saw the torturous indecision there, the pain of being torn as to what to do. "Don’t do it, Sorcha!" I screamed.
Hedrema, furious now, took her staff and jabbed one of its points into my belly, pushing down until it staked my flesh, sinking deep into my stomach. Then she pulled it out again as I screamed in pain, my hands automatically covering the wound as blood seeped through my fingers and mingled with the pouring rain.
"FINISH IT!" Hedrema screamed at Sorcha. "OR I WILL FINISH YOU INSTEAD!"
Lightening flashed and Sorcha’s face lit up as she stared down at her mother, her eyes wide and seemingly full of realization. Then she brought the dagger down, slowly, as she continued to stare at her mother.
Hedrema started shaking her head. "No…"
Sorcha tossed the dagger away from her and it landed in the grass below somewhere. She then stared at her mother one final time before simply disappearing.
Hedrema stared up at the tower for a long time, and then let out a scream of rage as she snapped her head around to look down upon me. "This is all your fault!" she screamed. "You will die for this!"
I tried to move the staff off me but it wouldn’t budge, so instead I used my magic, or tried to, as Hedrema was of course blocking it with her own. There was no way she was letting me escape without first incurring her wrath, which no doubt was going to be terrible. I could only watch in horror as she jammed her staff into the ground and then magically produced something in her hand that looked like a curved piece of bone, which I knew straight away was some kind of blade, the same blade in fact from the vision the Hand had given me. "Hedrema wait…" I pleaded as blood continued to pump from the puncture wound in my belly.
Before I could say anything else, Hedrema quickly dropped down on top of me, causing me to scream as she straddled my abdomen, her eyes wild and furious as she glared down at me. Then she grabbed my right wrist and held it flat on the ground, the blade held up in her other hand. "First I’m going to take what is mine," she said slightly breathless, the rain running off her in rivulets. "And then I’m going to let Osaba eat the rest of you."
Osaba? I looked past her to see that the giant serpent had appeared in the background. She was slithering over the top of a gravestone as she glared at me with her bright yellow eyes. Standing next to her was Twig, who also glared at me like he wanted to eat me as well, but only after he had tortured me. Looking back to Hedrema again, I realized there was no way I was leaving this graveyard alive.
A thought which the Fae Queen cruelly underlined by suddenly bringing her blade down onto my wrist, slicing right through it in one fell swoop, detaching the Hand of Drakkar. Having my hand lopped off for the second time—even though it wasn’t really my hand—was no less shocking or painful than the first time that Manannán did it. Needless to say, I screamed like a Banshee.
Hedrema, on the other hand, now had a satisfied smile on her face as she held the Hand of Drakkar up in front of her like it was the most precious thing she had ever seen. "Finally you are mine," she said, as though she was speaking direct to Drakkar.
As Hedrema admired her new possession, I did my best to stem the blood pumping out of my severed wrist, but I knew there was no way I could stop the blood without using healing magic, which I couldn’t do. On top of that, Osaba had slithered closer, and had raised herself up a few feet away as if the smell of blood had got her excited, which I had no doubt it had.
Hedrema remained on top of me as she stared down. "I should thank you for this, but I’m not going to," she said. "Maybe I’ll keep Dalia alive instead." She smiled wickedly. "Or maybe I’ll just let the poison finish her."
"No…" I said, all but certain now that I was going to die. "Please let her live. She doesn’t deserve to die."
She snorted slightly at that. "Says who?"
I was about to say something else when I suddenly heard a loud whistle, and then a familiar voice somewhere behind me, a voice I couldn’t believe I was even hearing.
"Hey She-Bitch! Get the feck off me mucker!"
Chapter 18
I couldn’t see Monty, but I knew it was him. There was no mistaking that voice, nor the total irreverence for anything which might kill him, which in this case, was Hedrema and her two subservients. After I’d got over my disbelief, I was initially glad he was there, but then I thought, Damn it, Monty, you’re going get yourself bloody killed…
Hedrema looked past me to wherever Monty was, not at all worried by his presence, a sneer on her face as she shook her head. "I see your friends have arrived," she said. I frowned. Did she say friends? Who was Monty with? "No matter, Twig and Osaba will take care of them. As for me…" She got up off me just as Osaba slithered in closer. "I’m going back to my castle now. I can’t say it was a pleasure knowing you, Corvin Chance. I’ll tell Dalia all about your pointless heroics here… just before she dies."
"No…" I went to get up as if I was going to grab her, but she merely stepped back away from me. Then, with a final sneer, she disappeared as suddenly as Sorcha did earlier, leaving Osaba to slither over the top of me, her crushing weight keeping me pinned down as her head swayed over my face.
"I’m going to enjoy eating you," she hissed, and then opened her mouth to show me her huge fangs, which seemed to glow in the dark. Her head moved down toward me slowly as she got ready to strike, intending to fill me with her poison before swallowing me whole. But as her head neared my face, it was suddenly hit with a blast of blue energy that knocked her to the side and forced her to hiss loudly in anger. Wasting no time, I scrabbled back as best I could along the wet grass, trying to put as much distance between her and me as possible.
But Osaba was merely dazed by the energy blast, and she quickly recovered, raising herself up as she began to slither toward me once more. "There isss no getting away," she hissed.
Woozy from the extreme loss of blood, I couldn’t even bring myself to try and get up. All I could do was lie there and stare at those yellow eyes as they got closer. Soon, Osaba was rearing back as she prepared to strike, but as she did I sensed a blur of movement by the side of me, and then I saw a bright flash that seemed to go right through Osaba’s body. The next thing I knew, the serpent’s huge head fell off and the rest of her body collapsed at my feet.
On the verge of blacking out from the blood loss, I looked up through the rain to see a familiar face standing over me, though I couldn’t be sure I wasn’t hallucinating. "Amelia…" I said just before lapsing into unconsciousness.
When I came to, I did so with a start, looking fearfully around me until I saw a face in front of me. "Amelia," I said. "It is you."
Amelia, with rain dripping off her silver blond hair, stared at me with her striking blue eyes. "What the hell kind of mess have you got yourself into down here?"
I shook my head. "Don’t ask." I looked at my wrist then to see
that a layer of skin was now covering it, forming a stump where my right hand used to be. I also checked the wound in my abdomen and found it to be closed up.
"I did the best I could," Amelia said, her eyes now going behind me as if something was happening, and for the first time I noticed she was holding a sword. "Can you fight?"
"Fight?" I managed to stand up and look behind me, soon becoming astounded by the scene before me. The whole graveyard was swarming with creatures big and small, most of them attacking a massive troll that was doing its best to knock the creatures away with a gigantic club, roaring as it swiped viciously at the attacking Fae. Just behind the troll, I could see Monty, who was blasting with magic any Fae that made it past the troll he had probably conjured himself. Directing all the Fae was Twig, who now had his head turned to look at me. Slowly he lifted his twisted arm and pointed a long finger at me, at which point half the Fae creatures turned away from the troll and started running toward me instead.
In seconds, I was confronted by a tall, horned Fae that appeared to be covered in moss. The creature swung at me with a thick branch, which I managed to duck under before using my left hand to blast the creature with my magic, sending it flying back to crash down upon two smaller Fae.
After that, things got really crazy. Swarms of Fae soon moved toward me and Amelia as the two of us stood practically back to back, she using her sword and magic to keep back the attacking hordes, me using my magic and occasionally my boot to keep the Fae away from me. Clearly, Hedrema wanted to make sure we didn’t get away alive, which to be honest, wasn’t looking too likely at this point. Even with Amelia’s awesome fighting skills and Monty’s massive troll doing serious damage, there were just too many of the bloody creatures to contend with. As Twig stood directing them all, the Fae soon overcame the troll, and as the troll fell back onto the ground, the Fae began to stab, beat and tear the troll apart until it was no more. Monty was also doing his best, but it was obvious he would soon be overwhelmed by the sheer numbers, no matter how nimble he was being in avoiding them.
