by Dean Floyd
We moved towards the colonnade huddled together, a row of ants marching under the Empire State building.
“Where’s all the guards?” Rob asked as we headed up steps spread wide as far as I could see to the right and left. A fortress like this would usually have some kind of armed guards on patrol. Unless the inhabitants weren’t worried about an assault. I thought about the Dullahan cradling his head. “You don’t need guards to protect you if you’re dead.”
Nehemiah stopped, turned a full circle, then groaned. “I was hoping I was wrong but I think we’re on the island of Tech Duin, which makes that,” he pointed at the fortress, “Da Durga.”
I shrugged. “It’s a bad place. I get that from the Spirit Store vibe. Skulls, giant crows, dark mist. All we’re missing is clowns.”
“This isn’t funny Sean,” said the wizard. “This is the house of Donn, the Irish lord of the dead.”
We fell silent as we moved into the darkness.
THROUGH WRECKAGE AND ruin we went. Parts of the roof were caved in, and other rooms were designed open to the sky. No matter where we were we seemed small in the ancient halls, as if they were made for eldritch beings of massive proportions. The ground was uneven as if an earthquake had rattled the foundations of the fortress and loosed massive chunks of the floor and no one had ever bothered to repair any of it.
We climbed and descended stairs until I lost track what floor we were on and if we were above ground or below it. During this whole time I could hear hoofbeats in the distance and peered about looking for the Dullahan, but never saw him. Other times we’d all feel steady rumbles that vibrated through our bodies from our toes to our heads. Tain kept his nose to the ground leading the way followed by Nehemiah, Rob, and I. My hand was on my shotgun and I was ready to pop one off at the slightest threat.
Nehemiah stopped suddenly at a starlit doorway. He motioned us to gather quietly. I could see that we were on a balcony several levels above a courtyard and we could hear voices speaking below us. The voices were coming from two figures, one who stood taller than a basketball player, and the other who’s height almost reached up to where we were.
“Who are they?” I whispered.
Rob spoke up. “Balor the Smiter and Donn the Red.”
Nehemiah shook his head. "Balor is dead.”
"Balor is the one talking," said Rob.
"Which one is Balor?" I asked.
"Neither one of them is Balor. He's dead,” said the wizard.
“The red one,” said Rob.
“They’re both reddish,” I said.
Rob groaned in frustration. He hovered nearly over the ledge of the balcony and pointed. “That one is Donn the Red.” Donn was thin with gangly hanging arms that seem disproportionate to his height and width, but stood tall. There was so much webbing between his clawed, widespread fingers they reminded me of wings. Darkness shrouded his gaunt face but what skin I could see was a reddish brown hue. His body structure was comprised of harsh angles, especially his shoulders. He glided as he paced in front of the other figure, his cloak billowed behind him but still managed to cover his feet.
“Then who’s the burgundy behemoth?” I asked of the second figure that Donn was speaking with. He was like massive volcano about to erupt at any moment. His one eye socket was empty, which was good because he was so massive he would have seen us peeking over the ledge.
Balor crossed his redwood-tree thick arms as he spoke to Donn. His voice was like a hip hop concert, all bass and no treble. His burgundy skin was ashy, scabbed, scarred, and cracked all over. His only article of clothing was a filthy loincloth the size of a boat’s sail. Pointed ears poked out from his white shoulder length hair. His hair had receded so that the top of his bald head gleamed with sweat and oil, but he looked no less menacing for it. His spear pointed teeth made me wonder how he didn’t sever his own tongue every time he spoke. His presence was like the swagger of a champion boxer in his prime, undefeated, unafraid, dominant.
“That’s Balor the Smiter,” said Rob.
Nehemiah rolled his eyes.“Except it can’t be because he was smitten by Lugh.”
“I think you mean smote,” I said.
“Shhhhhhh,” said Nehemiah, reminding us to lower our voices. “Just listen.”
We all stopped to listen, but I understood nothing. “What are they saying?” I asked Nehemiah.
“What do I look like? A thesaurus?” said the wizard.
“I know what they’re saying,” said Rob.
“Could you translate?” I asked.
He nodded and turned his ear to eavesdrop. While he was doing that a flapping of wings above me caught my eye. Thinking it was a Sluagh, my breath caught in my throat for a moment. Oh wait, it’s just a raven. As I was pondering if Tech Duinn and otherworldly places had common animals Rob spoke up.
“Donn’s saying something about an agreement. Bringing shadow to Falias to take the stone.”
“Is that supposed to make sense?” asked Nehemiah.
“What’s Balor saying?” I asked.
Rob waited for the bass of Balor’s voice to stop rumbling before frowning and translating. “I’m trying to understand the context. It sounds like he’s fed up of working with Donn and he wants half of his strength in return for changing those from the surface.”
Balor grunted like an avalanche. Donn raised his voice in reply. They both began moving their arms more when they spoke.
“Things are getting heated,” said Rob.
Balor stomped his foot and the whole place rocked. Dust and grains of rock fell on our heads. The raven I had forgotten about glided across the courtyard and landed on a perch across from us.
“Why is the Fomorian so mad?” asked the wizard.
“Apparently Donn keeps requiring more of him than their original agreement spelled out,” said Rob.
Donn said something softly and instantly the behemoth became calmer.
“What did he say there?” I asked.
Rob’s smile stretched across his whole face. “Oh just something about him allowing Balor to rise from his slumber so he owes Donn big time.”
Nehemiah’s eyes widened.“He brought Balor back from the dead?”
“Told you so!” said the Hob. “Donn mentioned he’ll get Balor his eye back once the deal is sealed.”
Rob giggled and the discussion below paused. I threw my hand over the Hob’s mouth. “Be quiet,” I whispered. “What could possibly be so funny? You’re going to get us killed.”
“Donn, he’s the lord of the dead,” chuckled Rob. “Like your movie Dawn of the Dead. And you’re Sean, like Shaun of the...”
Nehemiah pressed his staff against Rob’s windpipe. “You best shut your Leprechaun pie hole or I’m going to beat all of the rainbows and gold coins out of you.”
The Hob snarled. “I’m not a Lepre...”
“Shut up,” I said. “We’re missing vital information.”
“And it’s not D-A-W-N,” said Nehemiah. “D-O-N-N.”
“Why the extra -N?” I asked.
“It’s more omiNous,” said Rob, stressing the “N”.
“I hate puns,” I said.
Rob held up a finger. “Wait. It sounds like they’re wrapping up.” He listened some more then translated. “Balor told Donn to gather more sheep to be turned. And Donn reminded him that the Dragon stirs in its den.”
Balor barked some word, turned and and lumbered from the ruined throne room, each step loosening dust from the ceiling and causing the pillars that held up the ancient structure to quake.
Nehemiah tapped me on the shoulder regaining my attention. "We need to find your girlfriend," he whispered. "Now pretend you are a giant bird. Where do you bring your captives?"
"Down to the pits of the dungeon," I blurted out. But then I shook my head. "No," I said thinking out loud, "it would have to be an area where the birds could fly straight into and drop their catch. Because the birds are dumb there's gonna be guards there on standby who grabbed the ca
ptives and lock them up."
Nehemiah nodded his head
"That sounds logical. But what’s to say they don't move the captives from that landing spot to somewhere else?"
"Because that wouldn't be efficient," I said.
"Efficient shmaficient," said Rob. "The only place to start is where the birds land. Then we'll see who's right."
We all nodded in agreement then heard hoofbeats entering the courtyard below. We all peered cautiously over the edge and I saw the Dullahan ride into the courtyard. He dismounted and took a knee in front of Donn the Red. Since the Irish lord of the dead was no longer speaking upwards to a massive giant he had lowered his voice so that we heard nothing but mumbling, but no doubt the Dullahan was snitching on us.
I ducked back down behind the ledge and said, "The prisoners have to be somewhere high in this structure, but not too high. And it's probably going to be on the East side of the fortress since the birds always fly West through the Threshold."
"But what direction are we facing now? The winding path here has me all dizzy," said Rob.
I shrugged and looked to Nehemiah who closed his eyes, focusing. Eventually he raised his finger pointing and moved his hand and pointed exactly the opposite way that I thought was East. "It's that direction," he said.
"Are you sure? Nevermind. Who cares, we just need to get moving. Tain got us this far," I said showing him the phone again. He tried to pick up the scent but seemed unsure of himself this time. Instead Nehemiah took the lead and we clung to the shadows.
Chapter 21
Lost and Found
I knew we were heading the right direction when I almost stepped in bird feces.
I don't know how I almost did that since it was a very stark contrast between the ebony stone and the white bird poop. Also it was cowpie sized.
We made our way through dark halls littered with grime and crap and eventually made our way to the cages. Some cages had skeletons of humans in them, and others skeletons of Sluagh picked clean. And others skeletons of hybrid creatures that I couldn't quite place. If there weren't skeletons there were human and Sluagh corpses in various stages of decay. Feathers were everywhere. Sometimes a limb here, sometimes a skull there. There is really no rhyme or reason to it except for that some cages still had living prisoners in them.
The prisoners that noticed us had various reactions. Some cowered, moving to the far end of their cage. Others stood and came closer to us to get a better look.
My eyes locked on a familiar face and I saw her, my girlfriend Charice. Instantly we were grasping each other's arms through the bars finding comfort in one another. Some of her bangs were caked to her forehead with sweat and blood. "Sean!” she said, then burst into tears.
I grabbed the bars of the cage in both hands and rattled it as hard as I could. “It’s okay. I’m here now.”
Charice nodded, sniffling. “After the second day I figured I was a goner. I didn’t expect anyone to come for me.”
“Second day?” I said, then recalled Nehemiah’s words. Time can move differently in Tir na nOg. It could have only been an hour for the girl, or a day. A week even. I looked up and down the cage bars. "We've got to get you out of here."
Charice wiped the tears from her eyes. "Not just me Sean all of them," she motioned to the captives in the cages around her. "Some of them have been in here for weeks. They've seen things, terrible things," said Charice. She shuddered.
I was scared to ask but I had to. "What kind of things?"
She swallowed, then said, "They take some of the captives away and feed them to the birds." She got choked up again but managed to continue, "But sometimes the people are taken away and we hear terrible screams followed by the screeches the birds make almost as if..."
"... The people are being turned into Sluagh," I finished. I would have thrown up, but we didn’t have time."We'll get you out of here, all of you."
She shook her head. "It's impossible Sean. Some of us tried to escape. She knows, they know. We’ll never make it out."
"Who knows? Donn the Red? The Dullahan?"
"All of them Sean. And the pale woman."
When she said “pale woman” my stomach dropped. My thoughts instantly went to the Banshee I fought last week. Could it be her, I thought, I killed her. I shook my head. "Everything's going to be okay Charice. I killed the Banshee last week. We’re leaving right now."
I turned to Nehemiah. “The Sluagh, they’re—”
He put a hand on my shoulder. “Once Chaos gets ‘em, they’re gone. There’s no coming back from that. They died the moment they were changed.” Nehemiah left me standing there while he and Rob were fumbling with the other locks.
Tain, ever faithful at my side, began to growl.
I heard the impact of somebody landing on their feet behind me and I turned expecting to see Donn the Red or even the Dullahan off of his mount. I did not expect to see a Banshee.
Our eyes locked and we were both staring at each other with that weird look of recognition. I knew pretty quickly that I had never seen this Banshee before but she looked awfully a lot like the one I had fought last week. She was in the form of a young woman, as beautiful as a Forever 21 model, and as pale as corpse. She hissed at me. "You're the mortal who killed my sister," she said. "I can sense her mark on you, her death scream."
I was about to take her head off with my sword when a purple orb formed around her. Nehemiah called out, "Stop wasting time Sean. Let's get these people out of here."
He's right, we need to get going now. I hefted my shotgun, placing it point-blank on the nearest locked cage. "Step back Charice," I said. I knew that once I pulled the trigger all bets were off. The sound would alert anyone and everyone that something was going down.
I pulled the trigger and the lock fell to the ground. The shot seemed to echo way louder than normal and I moved quickly to the next few cages opening as many as I could. While that was happening I could hear the Banshee gasping and grunting trying to break free of Nehemiah’s own magical cage.
I heard the distinct muffled shriek that only a Banshee could make. Nehemiah's magical orb thrummed like a car blasting bass through subwoofers, but it held fast. She began to claw at the magical prison with more fervor until she completely broke free.
For a split second she was running at me full speed with nothing between us. I raised my Mossberg but she ran into another magical orb placed by my friend and was knocked to the ground. She screamed again this time more in fury then an actual attack.
I took Charice by the arm, motioned for all the freed captives to follow me. "This way,” I said. "Hurry!"
Nehemiah was still straining to contain the Banshee. I could hear crackling again and saw sparks showering down from wound on his staff. The Banshee broke free again. She made it only several more steps before a third orb was placed around her like some sick lethal game of red-light-green-light.
I couldn't take the tension anymore. "Enough of this crap," I yelled, cocked my shotgun, and charged her. I made eye contact with Nehemiah and at the last second he let his magic fizzle out. I leapt into the air and brought my knee up into the Banshee's face right as the orb disappeared. As she hit the ground I towered over, and let her have it. As the smoke rose for my gun I said, "Second time's easier."
I KEPT CHARICE’S HAND in mine. We were all sneaking along as best as we could, but it’s hard to manage a group that large and still keep quiet.
At times we had to creep along on the balls of our feet and other times we would full on sprint. Despite our predicament I couldn't help a smile crossing my face. I had butterflies in my stomach. We had done it, I thought, we had broken into the Irish lord of the dead's fortress and freed my girlfriend Charice as well as some other innocent victims. And aside from the scratches we already have, it looks like we’ll make it out okay.
Then Donn the Red stepped out from the shadows.
He seemed to rip away from the darkness as if they were made from one in the same substance.
He did not take a fighting stance or raise a weapon. He simply stood there with his arms folded.
I felt Charice squeeze my hand hard and I did the same. Now that I got a good look at the Irish lord of the dead, he was tall, gangly still, but with obvious rippling muscles. His eyes were sunken in shadow and he had fists as wide as bricks. While not having a voice as deep as Balor's, he was no soprano. He spoke in ancient Irish and I couldn't understand him but Rob did his best to translate.
"We have uninvited guests I see," said Donn the Red.
All of us were to dumbstruck to speak except for Rob who was translating.
He looked at Nehemiah and smiled, "You're using Chaos magic to cloak your presence. Very clever. And if I'm not mistaken you're a Shepherd. Breaking the rules eh?"
Then he eyed Tain and Rob collectively. "You're very familiar but I can't put names to either of you or say that I even know you."
Then he turned to me. "A young pupil of Order, and so full of fire." He stepped closer as if taking me in and his eyes rested on Charice’s hand in mine. Then he stared me down. "I've seen those eyes before boy. But they're not just your eyes."
While he and Rob were speaking, one by one the massive birds he commanded were landing. We were no longer just under the scrutiny of Donn the Red's eyes but under the eyes of all of the Sluagh. The birds were quieter than ever. I felt like I was standing before a judge and a jury and knew full well what the verdict was even before the gavel was going to strike.
"You freed some of the captives. That was no small task doing it without alerting everyone. Of course the aura you emit," he pointed to me, "is faint but unmistakable."
Again he looked at my eyes, and then to Rob and Nehemiah, finally resting on Tain and he showed a slight grin exposing teeth.
I thought of all the trouble that I had been through, of all the problems that this lord of the dead had caused and he did not strike fear in me. I gritted my teeth and flashed him a wicked smile in return, the hilt of my katana firm in my grip.
