Ghalien: A Novel of the Otherworld

by Johnson, Jenna Elizabeth

  "He hasn't told you about his riastrad, his battle fury?"

  Riastrad. Battle fury. Warp spasm. My father had been famous for it; revered for it, but for me, it had been a condemnation. A curse. When you were bound to the Morrigan, any use of your glamour was considered tainted and unsafe. Now, just magnify the average Faelorehn glamour by tenfold, if not more, under the direction of a war goddess and you might understand why I was hated and mistrusted.

  "Oh, this is too much! Cade, dearest, I think I'll prolong your girlfriend's death. That way, she'll get a good last look at what you truly are."

  "No!" I shouted. My glamour screamed at me to set it free, but I still resisted. I feared that, being so close to Meghan, the violence of the change might hurt her.

  Foolish, foolish boy, the Morrigan chimed. I warned you not to grow too close to the girl. I told you this would happen. You should have heeded your mother's words.

  Then, she looked at Meghan and said, lifting her arms in supplication to the roiling sky, "But my pets are so eager to play."

  Once again her magic burst forth, this time causing the earth to rumble and crack around us. Meghan whimpered and pressed closer as she moved behind me. I could not blame her. The Cumorrig my mother had brought along with her fell to the ground, keening in pain as their flesh split and their bones warped. Acrid horror washed over me as I watched them grow in size and repulsiveness. My mother continued to chant and the monsters continued to grow, their legs and arms stretching, their claws curving into long, dark blades.

  Impressive, aren't they? her words brushed across my mind. A little spell I've been saving my sacrificial glamour up for. They should be able to dispatch with the strayling quite easily, don't you think?

  Meghan turned and lost the contents of her stomach, so I bent down with her, trying to soothe her fear with an ancient prayer to Eile.

  "I grow weary of this little game, Caedehn," the Morrigan sighed. "Hand the girl over to me so you can get over your silly little infatuation."

  I refused, of course, knowing full well she would draw this out all night if she wanted to. We spent a few more minutes arguing, neither one of us budging. I was trying to buy some more time for Meghan, but it was no use. With the amount of dark magic encircling us, the only way out was through death. My frustration threatened to overwhelm me, but I had to find a way to save Meghan.

  "I’ll have my creatures fight you, Cade. Riastrad or no riastrad, you are no match for them."

  The ten monsters stood before me, all of them well over seven feet tall and radiating raw violence. She was right. There was no way I could defeat them all and survive. But I would die trying.

  "I know," I whispered, finally accepting my fate, "but I will not give her up. I will fight them. If I win, you forfeit your claim on Meghan. If you win, my glamour is yours."

  "No!" Meghan rasped behind me.

  You would sacrifice your life for this girl? Ignorant fool! Perhaps her glamour is stronger than I thought, if she has the power to ensorcell you so!

  The words my sister had spoken to me so many months ago came roaring back into my mind: You are her Ghalien, her heart warrior. You would give your life for her . . . Now I knew, without a doubt, that she had been right.

  The Morrigan spoke aloud, her voice carrying over the noise of the brewing storm and the racket of her faelah, "You do realize what you sacrifice, don't you my boy? There is only one way for me to take your glamour."

  I nodded, my face grim. "I'll swear a blood oath to seal my offer if necessary."

  You would sacrifice our bond? You would take away my life force as well as your own?

  With all the distractions surrounding us, I had almost forgotten about Fergus. And it broke my heart to hear those words from my spirit guide, but there was no other way. I hated to take Fergus's life by sacrificing my own, but we had lived a very long time and as selfish as it seemed, I could not see myself living much of a life from this point on if Meghan were to fall to the Morrigan.

  I must, I returned to my spirit guide. If the words had been spoken aloud, they would have rasped against my throat.

  Then, it is a noble death we face, Caedehn, my friend.

  You have been a good spirit guide, Fergus, more than good. You've been a loyal friend when I had none. I hope you can forgive me for my choice.

  It is for Meghan's sake. It is a worthy sacrifice.

  I severed the connection with him and took a deep, shaky breath.

  "Cade, how will she get your magic?"

  Meghan was asking me a question, but I hardly heard her.

  "Cade!"

  I couldn't answer her. Anyway, it was best if she didn't know. Turning to face her I said, "Your safety is all that matters right now, and my magic is only slightly stronger than yours at the moment. You have a greater source of power Meghan, but it’s untried. Let me do this before she discovers the potential of your own power. Before she changes her mind."

  I looked away from Meghan and addressed my mother, "I'll fight your Cumorrig to the death. If I stand alive at the end, you will no longer hunt Meghan or harm her family. If I'm defeated, you may have my glamour before it is returned to Eile, and you will leave Meghan in peace."

  After that, everything seemed to blur together. Meghan screamed her sorrow, begging me to reconsider. The Morrigan hissed her frustration, angry that she might lose her useful slave if I should die. I ignored them both, my focus entirely on this deed I must perform. Pulling out a dagger, I slashed the blade across my hand and the disfigured Cumorrig yowled eagerly as the scent of my blood wafted into the air. The blood bond was sworn and there was no going back. My glamour waited for my permission to burst forth. But there was one last thing I needed to do before I faced my doom. Something I'd been putting off for far too long.

  I wouldn't survive this fight, so I pushed away all the fear and reluctance I'd carried around with me regarding my feelings toward Meghan, and when it was gone, the only thing left was my desire for her to know. Funny, now that my impending death was one violent fight away, everything else seemed so ridiculous. No longer did I care that my mother was an evil goddess or that within me lived a ferocious monster. All that mattered was Meghan and the one, final secret I had kept from her for so long.

  I moved in close and took her face in my hands, savoring the caress of her silky hair, the warmth of her smooth skin. “Meghan, there is something I need to tell you, in case this doesn’t work out the way I hope,” I murmured, my heart pounding in my throat. “Something I should have told you a long time ago.”

  The way she looked at me in those sacred moments nearly broke my heart. Her beautiful, changeable eyes were so full of emotion: fear, anger, despair . . . and love? Gods and goddesses of Eile, I longed for her love, but this was no longer about me.

  Taking one more deep breath, I looked right into those brilliant eyes and whispered, "I love you."

  I didn't give her time to respond. Instead, I dropped my head and when my mouth met hers in a possessive kiss, all thoughts of self-control and gentleness fled. I kissed her long and hard, trying to pour my very soul into that one, final act of desire and affection. Eventually, it came to an end, but I had made it worth everything.

  When our lips finally parted, we were both struggling to catch our breath. I leaned in and kissed her one last time, this one signaling our parting.

  With great reluctance on my part, I let her go and headed toward the Cumorrig. They waited for me like a pack of demented dogs eager to play tug of war with my arms and legs. No matter. I might be taking the last steps of my life, but I would face my fate without fear. As I approached, they took their places around me, encircling me to ensure I didn't escape. I tilted my head to the dark sky and held my arms out. The stinging wash of my glamour burned as hot as my anger, and for once, I welcomed the pain my battle fury brought with it. Bones snapped and reformed and I felt myself grow taller. Never before had my power felt so potent and once the change was over, I all but lost control of my
own thoughts and actions.

  Instantly, I whipped around and engaged the closest monster, a creature I now recognized as my brethren. No longer understanding what fueled my rage, but understanding that the Cumorrig was somehow the cause of it, I attacked with full force. Minutes passed like seconds and my own agony became nothing more than an annoyance as I destroyed one monster after another. The longer I fought, the less I knew myself. Soon, I was nothing more than the violent creature everyone believed me to be when ruled by my riastrad, but the other monstrosities were falling beneath my strength and perseverance.

  Gradually, it became difficult to distinguish reality from hallucination, yet I continued to fight until I could no longer move, no longer see or hear. And when something pierced my side and drove me down, I knew it was over. My glamour had run its course and I was melding back into my natural form. But it was too late. Somehow, I kept my balance as I turned to focus on someone familiar, a beautiful girl with brilliant eyes and hair nearly as dark as the storm clouds above. She watched me intently, her tear-stained face pale and drawn. Meghan. My Meghan. An anguished cry greeted my ears as I collapsed to the ground, the darkness that hovered on the edge of my mind finally overtaking me. The pain and suffering was finally over and I would not rise again.

  * * *

  I dreamed. No, not a dream. A nightmare. I was in my other form, barely aware of anything but the hungry instinct to kill and destroy the enemy around me. My legs and arms were weak, all my resources nearly drained, and I could sense the blood trickling from the wounds I'd taken in the fight. I was so tired and I could tell I was dying, so why didn't I just succumb? The roar of my enemy, that creature so similar to me, snapped my attention forward. That's right. I still had monsters to kill and I couldn't die until they were gone. But why?

  The harsh cry of a female voice stole my attention. I glanced beyond my adversary and caught sight of her. Dark, curling hair and a pair of flashing hazel eyes tracked my every move. She was tall and lean, her skin pale and smooth, the black and white garment she wore ruined from the mud and her cloak soaking wet. My lip curled and I took a deep breath, drawing in her unique scent along with it. Immediately, my instincts told me that this young woman was mine to protect. She was the reason I fought these monsters, the reason I could not die until they were all destroyed. I would not survive the fight, but I had to make sure these beasts couldn't harm her once I was gone. My rage returned like a wildfire, consuming me and driving me on. I fought, my violence tearing into my enemies as much as my hands did. Finally, there was only one demon left, but I was too slow. The creature lashed out and drove its claws into my abdomen. The young woman screamed and then everything fell into a swirling whirlwind of pain and blood and death.

  The screaming continued, forcing the agony and anguish into a great cyclone. I felt a heavy weight pressing down on me, and I knew the screaming was coming from my own mouth.

  "Caedehn!" a great voice boomed over me. "Caedehn, my son, I've got you!"

  I thrashed around, the vivid trauma of the dream still clinging to me as I gasped for breath. I blinked my eyes, unaware that I still possessed them, and the darkness lifted to reveal the blurry shadows and brilliant orange flickering of firelight. Where was I? I blinked some more and reached out, clinging to the person who was holding on to me. I groaned and coughed, dragging air into my lungs as if I had been without it for days; until they hurt. Something cold and hard pressed against me, so I threw out an arm to brace myself, falling free of my savior's grip. My bare skin scraped against icy, damp stone.

  "Easy," that deep, familiar voice murmured, "easy now."

  The arms loosened a little and let me come to rest on the floor. I glanced down, my eyes finally clearing, to find that I was completely naked and covered in cuts and bruises. As my eyes lingered on the several deep gashes in my side, the memories came flooding back. An open plain, a stormy sky, the Morrigan's Cumorrig transformed into something horrifying, going through my riastrad, Meghan . . . Meghan!

  I must have tried to shout her name because a hoarse, panicked sound left my throat. I attempted to speak again, fighting against the other person's hold on me.

  "Meghan!" I rasped as my heart pounded against my ribs.

  "Shhh, Cade, hush! Meghan is safe! You need to calm down. You've just come out of the Cauldron and you're still very weak. Collin, Riley! Quick, fetch some blankets now!"

  A large warm hand pressed against my forehead and that strong voice, the Dagda I suddenly remembered, murmured to me in the language of Eile. He rocked me like a small child as he sat on the damp floor with me. The scent of mold, ancient earth and the metallic odor of the great Cauldron's magic teased my nose, and despite my incessant shivering, my foster father's attempt at comforting me eased my nerves.

  "What happened?" I whispered, my eyes closed.

  "The Morrigan finally did you in, son," he answered, his voice sounding sad, "but that lovely young woman of yours dragged your carcass all the way back here, so that we could revive you."

  I had been killed by the Morrigan. My mother had finally murdered me. My emotions were still swirling around like that whirlwind of my nightmare; still trying to find the body they had thought they'd left behind. Several things remained unclear to me, but one idea, one thought, one overwhelming truth rang true through it all and a name floated to the surface of my mind: Meghan. I had done it all to save Meghan. What had the Dagda said about her?

  "Meghan," I breathed.

  "Safe, Cade. She's safe upstairs, asleep in one of the rooms."

  Minutes later, something dry and heavy was draped over me and I realized that one of the Dagda's servants had returned with the blanket he'd ordered. Several hands shifted me, wrapping me up in the fabric to ease my cold.

  I did not fight them as the Dagda and his household lifted me and carried me away from that deep, dark place. As we climbed higher out of the dungeon where the Cauldron was kept, I couldn't help but feel that although my body was once again alive, my spirit would remain lost until I could see Meghan again.

  * * *

  Pain. I swam in a dark world of pain. I was certain I was dead, because despite all the agony I'd been through before, nothing ever felt this terrible. Yet, if my soul had departed and I was on my way to the afterlife, then how could I feel anything? Perhaps it was only the memory of the suffering that haunted me because a strange weightlessness enveloped me as well. Then something shifted, the lighting or the temperature of the place where I was, because suddenly the darkness wasn't so black anymore and a new sense came to me. I heard something, but it was so muffled I couldn't understand it. My soul strained to comprehend, to listen. Words, it was the sound of words that flowed over me and for some reason, those words made the pain go away. Maybe it was the voice itself that soothed me, the voice of a young woman. I knew that voice so well but it wasn't my sister who spoke to me, nor was it my mother, the Morrigan.

  A black shard of pain struck my heart and I tried to cry out, but nothing seemed to work for me. The sting faded into a dull ache as my conscience realized the Morrigan was nowhere near me. No. It wasn't my mother speaking to me. She had done something terrible, had tried to hurt someone I couldn't bear living without. Perhaps this voice belonged to her, the one I had been trying to protect . . . Yes, now I knew that voice. Meghan. I tried to reach out to her with my mind, but then I remembered I hadn't taught her how to do that yet. Frustrated, I simply lay there, soaking in her soothing presence. Before long, I began to slip away into that dark place again, but before I was totally lost, something warm and soft touched my mouth. Slowly, the black void overtook me, but this time I knew the horrors of my own death would visit me no more.

  * * *

  The faint whisper and crackle of a fire woke me, or perhaps that was merely the first thing I heard when I regained consciousness. I blinked a few times and stared up into the canopy of a large bed, confused and feeling nauseous. My head pounded as if someone were driving a sword through it and every ner
ve and muscle ached. I opened my mouth to take a deep breath, but a moan escaped instead.

  Something creaked. A chair? A door? And then a familiar feminine face stood over me.

  "Oh! You're finally awake! I'll get his lordship."

  Before I could so much as ask the time of day, Alannah disappeared through a door and left me to try and figure everything out on my own. Luckily, I didn't have to wait too long. My foster father arrived moments later, wearing his kingly robe and looking haggard. I furrowed a brow at him, then winced. Even doing that hurt.

  "Ah, Cade, you are back with us. Finally."

  "Wha-what happened?" I gritted my teeth. My voice sounded as if someone had scraped my throat raw with sandpaper.

  "Do you remember nothing?" my foster father inquired, his voice softer as he moved closer to the bed.

  I tried to sit up but grunted in pain when my actions sent a bolt of fire through my abdomen. My nausea only increased after that.

  "Steady," the Dagda scolded, leaning in to help me resettle. "You have a bad wound on that side."

  So I couldn't even sit up. Wonderful. I sighed, trying to ignore my watering eyes and wounded pride. I searched my memories, wincing when the Morrigan and her warped faelah surfaced in my mind. Meghan had been there as well and after that I couldn't recall much. Which was typical when my riastrad took over. And let's face it, if the Morrigan had us surrounded by her Cumorrig, then there wasn't a doubt in my mind that I'd made good use of my battle fury.

  "All I remember is fighting the Morrigan's hounds," I murmured, "and an unquenchable urge to protect Meghan."

  I turned my head on the pillow and looked over at the Dagda, who had taken a seat in the chair beside the window.

  My next words came reluctantly, not because it was hard to speak, but because I feared the answer. "Where is Meghan?"

  The Dagda's bright eyes landed on me, but I could not read his face. It was hidden under too much hair.

  "She is safe in the mortal world, Cade, with her family."

  Thank Eile. "And the Morrigan?"