The Bloodline Inheritance

by Brad A. LaMar

  “Sounds like a perfect prison for such a mad god,” Nuada agreed.

  “As I said, Nuada, there is a price. Powers like yours and Elathan’s must stay in balance. The only way to send him there is if you go as well.” The Morrigan’s expression remained placid.

  “You have given me much to consider, Morrigan.”

  “Do not wait too long to decide. Earth and Otherworld’s fate may depend on your decision.” The Morrigan walked away and faded out of existence.

  Brendan wanted to know more. He wanted to see how Nuada had trapped Elathan all those years ago. He wanted to know if he could replicate it. Brendan never got the chance to ask since the vision drifted away and he found himself face to face with a silver-antlered deer and his girlfriend.

  “I think I know Elathan’s end game,” Brendan said. “But I have no idea how to stop him.

  Chapter 5

  The Unexpected

  Lizzie’s purple bo staff zoomed to life in her hands as she stared up at a giant of a god in Lir. Frank held his falcata out in nervous fashion having never faced down a god before. Rohl morphed his form into a cross between a niseag and an elephant trying to ramp up his mass to intimidate the god of war. Garnash wasted no time in accessing his Gnome magic causing his hands to gush with boiling plasma that dripped onto the ground. Oscar, weaponless, took a step back to get behind the four warriors.

  “Ha!” Lir chortled. “The conspirators assemble. What do you expect to do against an immortal god?”

  “We’re not here to fight you, Lir!” Garnash shouted. “We’re just passing through.”

  “Passing through my realm without permission is a crime punishable by death, Earthlings.”

  Oscar heard the god’s voice and a flash of memory shot through his mind. He had been able to incapacitate not only the Banshees and a Giant, but several gods as well, but how? Where did that strength come from? He glanced down at the bag he had been holding since that hairy man and his group of Lailoken had attacked. He reached in and pulled the bracelet free from the sack and then cinched up the bag and slid it onto his back. He turned the ancient looking bracelet over in his hands and tried to think back to when he first saw it, but the sound of Lir’s boastful voice barking at them was more than distracting.

  Lir began to stalk down from the hill with the measured stride of an experienced soldier. His switched the trident from his left hand to his right as a sinister sneer crept across his face. “I’m going to enjoy this, Seeker. Human scum deserves everything that Elathan is going to bring them.”

  “What do you know of it?” Lizzie said with a laugh.

  Lir stopped some ten meters from them and stared at her. “I am the Watcher of Tech Duinn, Elathan’s own realm, and you think that I’m not privy to his grand scheme? Foolish girl. I shall rip your head from your body and dance in your blood!”

  “That’s some tough talk for a low-level flunky,” Lizzie replied. “Face it, Lir, you’re nothing but a security guard with a cute little pitch fork.”

  Lir twisted the handle of his trident causing it to crackle with energy. “I will show you what the Corpse Trident can do.”

  Two large steps and he was on top of the group. Frank barely got the falcata up in time to deflect the blow but the sheer power of the trident connecting with the sword sent Frank skidding across the ground. Rohl used his front claws to grab Lir by the arms from behind, but the powerful god shrugged the Púca off and backhanded him with a satisfying strike. Rohl’s form changed instantly back to the small, orange-eyed Púca as he blacked out.

  “I’m going to spear you like a fish, Seeker,” Lir said with a smile.

  Lir thrust his trident at Oscar, intent on stabbing him through the heart. Oscar raised his arms up instinctively, not realizing that Lizzie had whipped her staff down across Lir’s trident and deflected the would-be deadly blow.

  “No one kills my dad,” Lizzie said defiantly.

  Lir laughed out loud. “You’re the Seeker’s daughter? Ha! Killing your family will be even more satisfying than just killing you, Seeker.”

  Lir reached out to stab Lizzie, but she moved with a speed that even surprised her. A combination of twisting the staff and lashing out kept the large god on his toes, though her staff never made contact with him. Oscar stood by helplessly not knowing what to do. He reached his hand out, like he had done before to claim the Watcher’s blood for the dominion pulses, but nothing happened. He felt powerless and all he could do was stand idly while his daughter faced off against one of the most vicious gods in all of Otherworld. He was so engrossed in watching the fight that he failed to see a gemstone in the bracelet’s façade beginning to twinkle. All he could do was wish for a way out of this situation.

  “You fight surprisingly well, girl, but I’ve been doing this for thousands of years. You are going to die,” Lir predicted.

  Lizzie and Lir sparred, but neither noticed the fog that began to form around them. It grew thicker and thicker until it became nearly impossible to see.

  “Where are you, human?” Lir growled.

  The fog only hung there for a couple of minutes but when it cleared Lir saw that he was alone. Even the two unconscious enemies were gone.

  “I will see your organs spilled before this day is done!” Lir screamed.

  …

  Corways was quiet, not that unusual these days, but Rory’s mind was just the opposite. There were so many thoughts and worries that clamored to be at the forefront of his mind that he had to periodically sit and hold his head in his hands. It had been too long since he and Biddy had heard anything from Brendan, Dorian, and the others, and coupling that with the mini-search party that left to see what they could find out about the Crown had Rory feeling like a father who had just sent his kids off to their first day of school—with a classroom filled with monsters. Biddy seemed to be taking the lack of information much better than he was. She busied herself with chores and putting on demonstrations for the younger Leprechauns.

  Rory strolled through the Corways’ Main Street and observed the many Leprechauns and Gnomes trying to go about their daily lives, forging a new future together that shared a tormented past of two clans who had both been decimated by D’Quall and his Magogs. Not that long ago the Giants had attacked Corways and killed many Leprechauns and destroyed much of the small village. The Giants were defeated and fled thanks to the aid of the Gnomes, but in the end that defeat led to D’Quall going on a homicidal rampage where he and his hideous alphyns murdered a huge percentage of Gnomes right in the heart of Flumshire. Garnash and the rest of the survivors sought refuge in Corways. So now here they were, two clans doing their best to prepare for what was perhaps going to be the final battle, both caught in an unnerving waiting game.

  The two Giants, Tevis and Fergus, were passing the time by heaving large boulders at each other’s head. Fergus took a big hit and collapsed to the dirt leaving Tevis to fall on the ground laughing. Fergus shook the pain away and began to laugh as well. All Rory could do was shake his head.

  “Someone’s coming!” screamed a voice from somewhere near the obsidian megaliths in the center of town.

  Rory spotted Biddy from across the way and saw that she began running. He followed suit and sprinted to the megaliths. When he arrived, the runes were already in full tilt indicating that someone was accessing the tether’s power.

  “Have your guard up!” he ordered the others.

  A big flash of light erupted from the megaliths, bathing the village briefly. Rory covered his eyes momentarily, clutching the vial of blue magic in case his trusty bow was needed. When the runes began to cool, Rory’s eyes grew large at the sight of the female Magog who cautiously stepped out of the tether with her hands up.

  “The Magogs are attacking!” a panicked voice shouted.

  “Get her before she tries to kill us!” echoed another.

  “Wait,” Rory commanded. “She’s here alone with no weapon.” He waited until the crowd had quieted, albeit still grumblin
g and on edge, before he faced the giant. “Why are you here?”

  “My apologies for showing up unannounced,” she stated softly, feeling the hatred radiating from the Gnomes in the general area. “My name is Arleen and I am the new Bloodright Lady of the Descendants of Magog now that the tyrant D’Quall has been destroyed. I know words are of little comfort, but we send our deepest apologies and sincerest regrets at the part the Magogs have played in the pain of both of your clans.”

  Silence was the only reply that Arleen received until Biddy cleared her voice. “We appreciate the sentiment, but as you can see, wounds this deep are going to need a lot of time to heal.”

  Arleen nodded. “I understand that it will take time, but for now I hope you will accept my offer of help for whenever we are called upon. Dark times are coming, and you can count us as your allies.”

  The Giant bowed her head and then whispered a small chant before she vanished into the megaliths. The protests started immediately.

  “We don’t need help from that murderer!”

  “It’s a trick. They haven’t changed.”

  “Hey!” Rory shouted above the angry voices. “Shut it! When Elathan returns to Earth, do you think we are going to be able to be choosy about our allies? Arleen is right—dark times are coming. You can bet your last bit of magic on that.”

  …

  The night could be a frightening time in Scotland. Even though Bonnie was a Dryad and lived in the world of the magicks she knew enough to know that when it was rumored that a Súmaire was lurking about trouble would be sure to follow. The tree spirits were growing skittish—more than usual—and she and her clan of Dryads had yet to determine why the trees were so worried about the vampire or what he was doing.

  Bonnie, whether it was wise on her part or not, decided to take her boyfriend and fellow Dryad Namon out for a midnight stroll. She hadn’t really told him about the possibility that a Súmaire may be out on the prowl, but Namon was such a capable swordsman that she didn’t think it would matter. The Súmaire were a pretty reclusive bunch and rarely attacked other magicks, typically only doing so when they felt threatened.

  “This is romantic, eh?” Namon offered. “A beautiful night with my beautiful girl.”

  Bonnie smiled and squeezed his hand a little tighter. “It is, Namon, but the truth is I brought you out here for another reason.”

  “Oh?” his interest peaked.

  Bonnie sighed. “It’s probably nothing, but the tree spirits have contacted me and warned me about a Súmaire roaming these lands.”

  “Súmaire? Out this far? I doubt it. They tend to stick near towns, Bonnie. Can’t be too far from humans, you know.”

  “I know, but you know as well as I do that the tree spirits never lie,” she said, still holding Namon’s gaze.

  Namon looked around and saw nothing but rolling plains dotted with moors and a hint of a stream. The closest human home was at least thirty kilometers from their current location. That was too far in Namon’s mind for a Súmaire to be willing to travel away from his main source of energy.

  “Maybe the tree spirits are confused,” Namon suggested. “What reason would a Súmaire have for being out this far from people?”

  Bonnie turned away from him and scanned the surroundings. It did seem unlikely to her now that she thought about it. The Vampires were a primitive clan that operated on the most basic of needs. Any real threat from the Súmaire seemingly died in the battle for Callanish when all of their Rí Súmaire—or king Vampires—were reportedly exterminated. The lesser Súmaire only seemed to have the basic survival instinct without the high intellect or power of the Rí.

  “You’re probably right—Wait, did you see that?” Bonnie asked, pointing near the stream.

  “What?” Namon strained to see what Bonnie was looking at, but the landscape looked as serene as ever. “I’m not seeing anything, Bonnie. It’s probably in your head.”

  A low howl quickly changed over to a clear moan.

  “Who’s there?” Namon called while he pulled his sword from its sheath.

  The air was still and the world had grown silent. Namon could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears making it hard to concentrate on spotting whatever was out there.

  “Who am I? Death,” the voice answered the darkness.

  “What do we do, Namon?” Bonnie said, spinning to face her boyfriend, but the look in his eyes told her that something was wrong. “Namon!”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but a trickle of blood escaped from the corner of his lips first. “Run,” he mumbled before his strength left him and his knees buckled, dropping him to the ground.

  Bonnie was in shock. Her eyes followed his descent to the ground as he fell in a heap. “Namon!” she cried, but life had left his body. Tears began to stream down her cheeks. A cold feeling overwhelmed her body as she felt the presence of someone nearby.

  “You have sought me out, Dryad, and so you have found me.”

  Shivering with fear, Bonnie forced her eyes to look up at the source of the voice. There before her was what looked like a liquid shadow with an evil essence coursing through it. She wanted to scream when the shadow morphed itself into the shape of a humanoid complete with a pale white face and eyes as black as obsidian.

  Bonnie pushed off the ground and began to run. She was running faster than she had ever ran before. Her feet hit the creek just as she felt the excruciating pain at the crossing of her shoulder and neck. Her body instantly became paralyzed. Life was leaving her so quickly but she remained conscious until that last agonizing moment and then… nothing.

  Crannog sapped the young Dryad’s energy quickly, almost too quickly, and dropped her lifeless body into the creek. He began to stumble as he tried to manage the meager bank. His foot slipped and he fell to the dirt, his body stunned from consuming the life energy of a magick. It was a very different feeling than when he would take the life of a human. Crannog rolled onto his back, his head reeling from the sudden burst of sounds and voices that blasted into his mind.

  The night turned all sorts of colors around him. It was a world that a Súmaire would have had no idea even existed. Strange beings of light walked in amongst the trees. They cowered back from the sight of him but had just enough curiosity to peek out from around the trunks. What really caught Crannog’s eyes was a visage on the horizon. It held a green hue that stood out even among the lush greens of the Celtic Isles. It was special. It was, perhaps, just what he had been looking for, but his consciousness slipped away, and all the colors of the world vanished into blackness.

  …

  A dragon’s roar echoed throughout the maze of caverns, but Sabd seemed unfazed by the noise. His hooves found steady footing as they came to a five-meter chasm. The deer leapt over it like it was a crack in the sidewalk. Brendan was next to hop over, and when he landed he looked back at Dorian.

  “Do you need me to help you?” he offered.

  Dorian took a few steps and jumped, easily clearing the gap. She landed right beside Brendan with a smirk and one eyebrow arched. “I can manage.”

  “Not really sure why I asked,” Brendan chuckled.

  “Because you’re a gentlemen,” she said playfully.

  “This way,” Sabd directed.

  They wound their way deeper into the labyrinth until they finally came upon a darkened din. Sabd walked into the darkness leading Brendan and Dorian inside. The deer backed up near a wall, tossed a rear hoof out and kicked a glow root, which immediately lit the room. Brendan took stock of the surroundings. He noted that the ceilings were high—dragon sized—and the walls were relatively smooth. Sabd had been busy collecting dozens of glow roots, a stash of fruits and vegetables, and enough palm leaves to create a bed.

  “Nice place you have here, Sabd,” Brendan said. “How long have you been here?”

  Sabd motioned towards a pair of rocks for Brendan and Dorian to sit. The deer crossed the cave and settled into his palm-leaf bed.

  “Here? A couple
of months, I suppose. I must always keep moving due to the bloody dragons and other scouts that Dewi has dispersed throughout Brugh,” the deer said somberly. “This is not my natural form, friends. I am actually a Sidhe.” He let the news sink in and observed the surprise on the Earthlings’ faces. “Many years ago I came back to our home, a cave here in Brugh, after a meeting I attended in Tir na nOg. The just god, Nuada, had given us the home generations prior, and it was our duty to keep Brugh safe.”

  “Nuada, huh?” Brendan said the thought aloud.

  “Yes. Do you know of him?” Sabd asked.

  Brendan nodded. “I’m—I’m Brendan O’Neal and my bloodline has been, uh, blessed with the responsibility of protecting of the Earth.”

  The deer’s eyes bulged in shock. “I have heard the rumors, but I never dreamed that a Protector would come to Brugh.”

  “Before you give him a big head,” Dorian interjected with a sideways glance in Brendan’s direction, “what do you mean you heard rumors?”

  “There was talk, there’s always talk, I suppose,” Sabd muttered.

  “What are you rambling about, Sabd? Talk about what exactly?” Dorian asked.

  “Airmid,” Sabd stated flatly. “Mainly Airmid spoke of the Protectors and the need Otherworld would have of them one day.” His head bowed. “I’m not really sure of why she would know something like that, but I guess that time has come.”

  Brendan and Dorian traded confused looks.

  “Who’s Airmid?” Dorian asked finally.

  “A beautiful goddess,” Sabd stated before a brief pause to organize his thoughts. “She is a healer, really, not one for prophecy. After my meeting with Nuada was over and I was on my way to a set of megaliths to return to Brugh, I spotted the lovely young goddess looking distraught as she walked down the street. Having met her on a couple of occasions, I stopped her and asked what was wrong.” His head dropped as he thought back to the encounter, trying to recall the details. “Her words were spotty at best, but somewhere in the midst of the ramble she spoke of Otherworld’s need for the Protector.”