Ghalien: A Novel of the Otherworld

by Johnson, Jenna Elizabeth

  The draghan might not be able to create enough heat on its own, but all it had to do was breathe in our direction and the whole chamber would go up. No doubt we would have succeeded in destroying it, but we would perish as well.

  Fenrah detached herself from our line and jogged to each of the disregarded torches, rolling them around on the damp earth to kill the flames before joining us once again. I glanced over at my sister. She gave me a weak smile before turning her attention back on the draghan. She looked pale, but I was hoping that was a result of the witch light and not because it was pulling away too much of her glamour. If she had to cut the power to our light source, we were going to be in big trouble.

  As if sensing our flagging confidence, the draghan bolted forward, raking its claws against Devlin's abdomen. Not expecting the sudden attack, Devlin barely had enough time to return his own blow, a swipe of his short sword across the monster's leathery back. The resounding screech from the draghan was satisfying but short lived. It whipped its tail around, trying to hit one of us.

  "The tail!" I roared.

  Everyone hit the ground as I turned and met the draghan's next assault with my sword. The impact threw me back a few feet, but I managed to cut deep. Another roar of agony filled the chamber. We now had its complete attention.

  The draghan was momentarily distracted by its wounds, so we took advantage and quickly regained position, surrounding it in a loose circle. Fenrah and Enorah had arrows ready in their bows and Devlin and I adopted guards with our blades.

  "How is your strength, Enorah?" I asked.

  "I can last for about ten more minutes, at the most," she breathed.

  The draghan lashed its tail out again and we dodged. It was enough to distract us from its real purpose, for in the next second a burst of fire hurtled by and set my sleeve on fire.

  "Cade! Take off your shirt! You can't put it out!"

  The sound of Enorah's frantic voice was enough to force me to comply without question. Dropping my sword, I peeled off the leather armor and shirt beneath, leaving my entire upper half exposed and vulnerable. I would have liked to put the armor back on, but the draghan decided to charge once again. I dove out of the way as it lunged, snapping up the leather breastplate and shredding it like a fresh kill. Ignoring the scrapes and cold mud on my back and chest, I clambered to my feet and got ready for another attack. While I was avoiding becoming the draghan's next victim, Enorah and Fenrah released a pair of arrows, both managing to stick in the loose skin around the beast's neck. Devlin, who was still clutching his side, was missing his dagger and looked as if he would pass out if this fight lasted much longer.

  For a moment, I considered succumbing to my magic and letting the riastrad take over. The witch light above was fading and Devlin was struggling to keep his feet, a banner of red staining his side. When the draghan scraped the floor and managed to get another fireball out, this one barely missing Fenrah, I knew I couldn't put it off any longer.

  "Everybody, get back!" I barked, tossing my sword aside and standing with my arms held loosely at my sides.

  "What are you doing?!" Fenrah demanded as she loosed another arrow, this one glancing off the draghan's back. The monster hissed and turned to face her.

  "Come on!" Enorah shouted, grabbing Fenrah's arm and pulling her toward Devlin. The witch light regained some of its strength.

  Now that I was the only person standing within striking range, the draghan eyed me with renewed hatred. It opened its angular mouth and bellowed, the stench of its gaseous breath hitting me like a solid wall. A few sparks blinked in the semi-darkness as it once again dug at the ground.

  That's right you combustible bastard, I thought, I'm the only thing in here that's a threat to you.

  The beast bellowed again just as I felt the change take over me. Bones snapped and reformed, muscles stretched and my mind focused on one thought and one thought only: kill. Instinct took over and I charged the draghan, intent on ripping its head from its shoulders. The eerie light filling the cavern faded away from my awareness and the screams of my sister and her friends sounded distant. None of that mattered. All that mattered now was that I destroy the enemy. An intense heat grazed my neck and shoulder, but there was no pain as I closed in on the draghan. With my bare hands I attacked, barely registering the damage done to me. I punched and kicked and drove the monster back and my glamour burned through my blood like wildfire. How long the fight lasted I could not say, but I could feel the fatigue begin to flow over me in waves. I knew my riastrad was coming to an end and I only hoped I had killed the draghan. My hands and arms were covered in something wet and warm, either my own blood or that of my enemy. Eventually, the glamour dried up and I started to black out. The last thing I heard as I collapsed to the floor was a voice in my head, screaming in anger.

  You were supposed to bring it to me! Now your little strayling will suffer for it, and you, being so far away, can do nothing to stop me!

  I struggled to stay conscious, but even as the evil taunt from my mother faded away, I could feel my body morphing back to its usual shape. The pain of the change was the final straw, but before the darkness overwhelmed me, I managed to breathe out one word, "Meghan!"

  Twelve

  Offer

  The dreams that plagued me were the worst my mother had to offer. The moment I realized I was no longer conscious, I found myself trapped in a pit full of faelah. On the other end of my prison I could see Meghan, naked and chained to a stone wall. Her skin was pale, much more so than I remembered, and a multitude of lacerations crisscrossing her abdomen and legs oozed blood. My heart leapt into my throat and I took a step to rush to her side. The writhing mass of faelah noticed my movement. They surged toward me like an angry tide, snapping and hissing and growling as the stench of their filthy, rotting skin filled my nose. Another sound cut through the clamor, and suddenly my urgency and fear spiked. I knew that low, rattling call. It belonged to a creature far more terrifying than any of the Morrigan's other minions. A moghreth, a great, white worm found only in the dankest, most unsavory parts of Eile. It crawled from one of several holes in the wall, lifting itself off of the ground so that I could see the double rows of teeth that lined its entire stomach. The moghreth wrapped itself around its prey like a snake, imbedding those teeth into flesh, then very slowly sucking the life out of whatever poor creature fell into its grasp. And this particular moghreth was interested in Meghan.

  "No!" I screamed, trying to tear my way through the onslaught of faelah.

  Meghan glanced to the side, her eyes wide with terror as the moghreth started its approach. She struggled against the chains, making sounds of distress as the monster moved closer.

  "Meghan!"

  I fought with all my strength, but I could not get through the sea of faelah. There were too many. When I stopped and tried to summon my riastrad, a chilling voice entered my head.

  No, no, Caedehn. Not in my realm. I control this place and your battle fury cannot be used here.

  The Morrigan's wicked laughter trailed off as I once again took up my struggle against the faelah. I watched in horror as Meghan screamed for me while the moghreth inched ever closer. Blood ran down my hands and arms as I continued my battle, but for every faelah I killed, five more took its place. Cold sweat ran down my face and when Meghan's screams were cut off by the deadly embrace of the moghreth, I thought my soul would shatter. I collapsed to the floor, exhaustion finally overwhelming me. The faelah paused in their assault, waiting for me to rise again. A dozen or more times I tried to get up and continue my fight, but every time the faelah would push me back. Hours, or days, later I fell into a heap on the cold stone floor, unable to go on and slowly going mad as Meghan's soft cries of distress reached my ears.

  This is your punishment, my dear boy, for your unending desire to disobey me. First by withholding information about that strayling, second for interfering with my ritual and now for destroying that draghan when I asked you to bring it to me. This is what will b
ecome of your precious female in the end, and you will be there to watch.

  I gasped, the sound of my mother's shil-sciar voice like an acid burning through my senses. No. I would not allow this to happen to Meghan. My mother had full control here, in the unconscious world, but not in the mortal world or even in Eile. I would sacrifice everything to keep her away from Meghan.

  Just remember, Cade, she chanted, the longer you keep secrets from me, the worse it will be for your strayling.

  The Morrigan had a terrifyingly immense amount of glamour, but nothing, not even her strength, could break the spell I had cast to protect my knowledge of Meghan.

  Lifting my head against the pain of my ordeal, I spat in the direction of the closest faelah. The cat-like monstrosity hissed and backed away. I glanced up at the image of Meghan, chained and covered by the moghreth, its putrid, pale body undulating as it drained Meghan of her life. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to keep watching. It isn't real, Cade, I told myself. It is an illusion created to break you, and you almost let it get the better of you.

  You can keep your damn threats, I hissed in my mind, the words tainted red, they won't work on me.

  The Morrigan shrieked in anger and the ache in my head increased until the small red spark of her presence blossomed and turned a brilliant white. I sucked in a final breath just before everything went black.

  * * *

  I woke to find every muscle and bone in my body aching from overuse, but considering the life I led, that wasn't too out of the ordinary. For a few moments I simply lie there, staring at the ceiling above, trying to remember where I was and what had happened. I turned my head and glanced around the room. No, not a room, a space carved out of a mountainside to function as a room, complete with several portholes leading up to a light source somewhere. The memories swept over me like an ocean wave, stinging the back of my eyes with their intensity. Cernunnos, seeking mine and my sister's help, the Amsihria and the draghan tormenting them, my riastrad taking over, Enorah and Fenrah crying out in fear. And finally, that nightmare sent by my mother.

  I groaned and lifted my hands to rub my face. It took far more effort than I'd like to admit. I paused in my actions when I noticed my shirt was missing. Furrowing my brow, I lifted the blankets to discover not only a plethora of well-tended wounds, but that my shirt wasn't the only thing gone. So, either they had to cut my ruined clothes off of me, or the fight had been so brutal they hadn't survived in the first place. I was almost glad my recollection of the past several days remained mostly buried.

  A soft knock at the door drew my attention from my self-inspection. The door cracked open and one of the younger Amsihria poked her head in. When she noticed I was sitting up in bed with only a sheet to cover me, she lowered her eyes and a blush spread across her face.

  "You're awake!" she exclaimed, then made to escape into the hallway. Apparently, some ingrained sense of duty forced her to remain crouched in the doorway. "Sorry to bother you," she murmured, "but the Maithar would like a private audience with you. She said to tell you so as soon as you woke up. That is, if you are feeling up to it."

  Avoiding her question, I said, "Where are my sister and the others?"

  She shifted uncomfortably and looked over her shoulder.

  "They said they were feeling trapped in our caverns, so they decided to set up camp in the meadow below our sanctuary. They told us to inform you to meet with them as soon as you were able to travel."

  I arched an eyebrow, wondering why Enorah, Devlin, Rhyne and Fenrah couldn't wait for me.

  "How long have I been out?" I asked.

  "Nearly two weeks."

  I choked on a gasp and looked at the girl in disbelief.

  "That long?" I whispered.

  She only nodded.

  "And how long have my companions been camping outside?"

  "Only a few days," she answered.

  So, not as bad as I had thought. I would have grown weary of the caves after that many days as well.

  I cleared my throat and said, "I would be honored to meet with the Maithar, however, I would need my clothes returned to me first."

  The poor girl blanched but managed to get a hold of her composure. "Forgive me, warrior, but your clothing was ruined in the battle. We had to cut what remained of it off of you to see to your wounds."

  She glanced up then, a small flicker of determination in her pale eyes. "Many of your injuries were very severe and we had no other choice."

  I shook my head. "No, I understand. However, I do not think it would be proper for me to stand before your great mother in nothing but a bed sheet. What about my pack?"

  Her reaction was almost comical and I had to bite back a smirk. Her face reddened again as she said, "I'm afraid your sister took it with her. She thought it would be easier if they packed everything with them at once."

  My jaw tightened. Surely Enorah hadn't done it on purpose, but she had to have known I would need a change of clothes when I woke up.

  "Men don't visit here too often," the girl continued, "but there are some spare clothes in one of the storage closets. I'll bring you what we have."

  Fifteen minutes later, I found myself staring down into the most pathetic mix of garments I'd ever seen. Most of the attire was tailored to fit a man half my size. None of the pants fit me and the shirts were far too tight. Gritting my teeth, I dug deeper. What I found toward the bottom made the corner of my mouth tilt up in amusement. An old kilt sewn from a dark green tartan was the last article of clothing that I hadn't tried on. Dropping the sheet I'd been using as a toga, I slipped the kilt on, sighing in relief when I realized it fit. Well, it wasn't what I was used to wearing, but it would have to do.

  The smooth stone floor of the tunnel I strode down felt cool against my bare feet. The temperature inside these mountain caves should have chased me back under my warm sheets, but my blood still ran hot after the fight with the draghan and the memory of my mother's torment. Now, I was more eager than ever to return to the mortal world and check on Meghan. Our mission here was complete, and as soon as I found out what the Maithar wanted, I was leaving the sanctuary of the Amsihria to meet up with the others so we could begin our journey home.

  Before she left me to get dressed, the young acolyte informed me that Jarda could be found in her council room behind the entrance hall. Fortunately, I didn't have to walk too far because the occasional leina staring at me with her mouth hanging open was starting to grate on my nerves. I guess I shouldn't have been too surprised. Men were generally not allowed in the sanctuary, so seeing one striding down the halls wearing nothing but a kilt was bound to draw some attention. I'm sure the nasty abrasions on my bare skin only piqued their curiosity further. Oh, the perks of being an active fighter . . .

  Rounding the next corner, I found myself in the wide open entrance hall. To my left and several yards away, the tall doorway into this strange place yawned and allowed the bright light of the morning sun to stream in. My feet itched to head in that direction and join my sister and her friends, but it would be rude of me to leave without granting the Maithar one last meeting. Perhaps she wished to thank my sister and I for our help. Or maybe she wanted to apologize for her behavior before we sought out the draghan. Releasing a small breath of regret, I turned right and headed for the door situated behind the stone chair and dais.

  After knocking once, the distinct voice of Maithar Jarda, muffled a little by the wood, proclaimed, "Enter."

  She glanced up from some paperwork she was scribbling over after I closed the door behind me. She took her time to assess me, her eyes studying me like a sculpture in a rose garden. I tried my best not to squirm in irritation. When her gaze returned to my eyes, I noticed a hint of disappointment in her expression. So, she must not like what she sees. I gave a mental shrug of derision. Too bad.

  Jarda took a breath and set aside her quill, then she folded her hands in front of her and pinned me with those pale grey eyes of hers.

  "I called you to counc
il before me because I have a business proposition, one, I feel, you might find hard to refuse."

  "Oh?" I crossed my arms over my bare chest, partly because the chill was finally getting to me, but mostly because I wanted to appear domineering. I didn't like this woman, her eyes wandered too much, saw too much, and I didn't mean just physically. I could almost feel her gaze passing through my skin and examining my soul. And her callousness almost matched my mother's, she proved as much with her attitude toward the draghan's last victim. I would not let my guard down.

  "And what might that be?" I continued.

  "As you know my girls and I live here alone on this mountain top, and in most cases, we are quite capable of taking care of ourselves. Well, unless something like that draghan comes along. There is one thing, however, that we do require every now and again that we cannot supply for ourselves."

  She stopped speaking and scrutinized me once more. It was then that it dawned upon me that perhaps the reason she'd been disappointed before was because I was over, not under, dressed. My jaw tightened and my molars began to ache. I was so very tired of being regarded as an object, first by my mother, then by several of the women, and even some of the men, I'd met throughout my life. Now the Maithar of the Amsihria wanted to throw her name in with their lot. And just like that, the sour prickle of unease started low in my stomach. Had this been her objective all along? To draw me out so she could size me up? My agitation began to bloom and spread like a foul disease.

  Finally she continued her speech, "As you well know, we cannot procreate on our own. Weather wielding takes an immense amount of glamour, and over time, we lose that edge we had when we first started out. Those who cannot handle the pressure any longer retire, and that means we must produce replacements. To be accepted among the Amsihria, a child must be born from one of them. She must inherit the gift from her mother, and having a father with strong glamour is ideal. We must have a rithair, a champion at the ready, a man willing to be the father of our future daughters. Long ago, Cernunnos fulfilled this role for us, but that was during a time when our kind were counted among the myths told by the Tuatha De. He has come to our aid from time to time, but he is not a steady presence. The last Faelorehn man who served this purpose left years ago and never returned. I fear he may have left Eile for good, and if this is the case, we are in need of a replacement. I would like you to be our rithair, Caedehn MacRoich, for those of us young enough to bear children."