“We have grown tired of your presence, Aine. Again, we deny any assistance to your search for Faolan. While it is difficult to for us to decide his fate, it is what is in the best interest of all Ossorians,” Lynette said as soon as Aine and her visitors entered the assembly.
Aine bowed her head out of respect. “I have accepted your decision and no longer seek your help to find my husband. My friends will help me do that, but Lizzie O’Neal has come to make a request of you.”
Lizzie stepped forward and cleared her throat. “As you are well aware Elathan has claimed to have taken control of all of the realms of Otherworld. If there is any doubt in your minds to the truth of his words, then you’re fooling yourselves. Each of the realms has been claimed, but Elathan cannot maintain his hold without the help of his Watchers. Your realm has been handed over to a particularly evil set of Banshees.”
“I don’t believe you,” Harn challenged. “Tricks and lies. No one can take over entire realms. What would an Earthling know of the affairs of magicks?”
“Look, beardy, let’s cut through all the posturing. We are here to help the inhabitants of Otherworld and our home,” Lizzie declared.
“How dare you disrespect an Ossorian!” Harn screamed before changing into his wolf form.
The werewolf leapt down from his seat and directed his arc directly at Lizzie. Her eyes sparkled with a violet light as her staff zipped to life in her hands. She stretched out her staff and caught the large werewolf in the center of his chest. A small explosion of purple light flashed in the room as Harn’s unconscious body was flung back into his seat.
“Enough!” Lynette shouted, getting to her feet. “This is a civilized proceeding. I will not have such barbaric behavior on display. This session is over.”
“Fine,” Lizzie agreed, her staff vanishing from sight. “You’ve been warned, so if you choose to sit here and do nothing to protect yourselves, then that’s your deal. I plan on fighting for those I love.”
Lizzie turned on her heels and led her group back onto the street.
“Great job, Lizzie—now they’ll never feed us,” Rohl whined.
…
Peigi felt dull. Everything about her felt dull, except for a red hot stirring that came out of a dark place deep within her to raise her supernatural senses—at least that was how she thought of them—to a level that surpassed anything she had ever experienced.
The world around her seemed sharper, crisper. It was odd experiencing both sensations at the same time. The things in her environment that she would normally pick up on seemed lost, while others like the rustling of leaves, the quaking of a dandelion against the breeze, or the patterns of stars were so vivid to her they seemed otherworldly.
A scent began to play at Peigi’s nose. She wasn’t dreaming; she was tracking a Dryad by her soul and there was nothing she could do to stop herself. One way or another she was going to find this creature because maybe then life would return to normal.
…
“The Ossorian camp is this way, just past the hill.” Airmid pointed up ahead.
Dorian nodded and followed behind, her hand unconsciously moving over the pocket of the white crystal that she had found. She felt the energy dance on her fingertips alluding to the type of power the crystal held. What it was, she had no idea, but it may somehow come in handy, at least she hoped so.
They pushed up the hill and found some low-slung branches blocking the path so Airmid pulled them out of the way revealing a street fair. Almost immediately they ran into someone Airmid knew.
“Lynette? We were just coming to see you,” Airmid said.
Lynette stopped and sneered at Dorian. “Another Earthling? We don’t need her kind here, Airmid.”
Airmid and Dorian exchanged confused expressions.
“Another?” Dorian asked.
“Yes, some O’Neal girl thought enough of herself to insult the council,” Lynette huffed.
“Where did she go?” Dorian demanded.
Lynette’s lip curled. “How dare you demand anything of me.”
“Please, Lynette, this is important,” Airmid said soothingly.
“She and her group went off with Aine on some hair-brained scheme to free Faolan from some supposed Banshee.”
Dorian bowed her head and thanked the Ossorian respectfully, not wanting to cause any more problems. Airmid walked across town and questioned different Ossorians about the direction that Aine was headed. Finally they ran into an elder who was happy to point out a direction and give a few pieces of her mind about the whole incident in the council.
“Your friend Lizzie has made quite an impression on these people,” Airmid observed.
“She seems to win friends everywhere she goes. They can’t be that far ahead of us. Let’s go,” Dorian said.
A horrible shrieking called out over the town. Dorian’s mind instantly fell back into the memory of Griffin—while still under the witch’s control—zooming in from overhead, crashing through the rainbow and sweeping her father away.
“Niseags!” Airmid shouted, pointing to the sky. “And they’ve brought the Goblins as well!”
…
“How much longer can he hold out like that?” Toren asked Bide as they both knelt by Nuada’s bedside.
Bide remained silent.
Toren shook his head and paced the floor coming to a stop at Nuada’s window to the world. Toren could no longer see through it. The window was frosted over, completely obstructing the views of Earth and Otherworld.
“What’s happening out there?” he asked aloud, not really expecting an answer.
“I don’t know,” Bib said quietly.
Toren walked back to Nuada’s bedside and knelt beside his master. “Come on, Nuada. Pull out of this!”
Nuada stirred briefly making both Toren and Bide rise to their feet, but the ultragod fell limp and still once more.
“He’s not breathing, Bide!”
She bent closer to Nuada’s face and examined him closer. “Aye, but Toren, remember he’s not a human. He’s not even a god—he’s more than that. Just because he’s not breathing doesn’t mean he’s dead. His consciousness has left him.”
“Then one way or another he’s escaped this prison, but where did he go?”
…
Whatever state Brendan’s mind was in came with a flurry of visions. Sometimes they were familiar like when he was back in Corways chatting with Rory about fishing or sitting on his couch back at home watching his mother cook dinner. He never knew what scene would roll into his consciousness next or how much he was going to be able to interact with the people in it, but he was not even close to expecting where his mind went next.
A low-hanging fog camouflaged Brendan’s surroundings, but he could feel that the ground was solid and covered in grass and stones. Off in the distance he heard the sinister cry of a battle horn followed by the pounding of boots and hooves on the ground. Silhouettes became visible through the veil outlining what looked to be many massive figures. It wasn’t until the group of warriors stepped out of the fog before Brendan became really confused.
The warriors were human-like standing on two legs like any other man but other than having only two arms, that was where the similarities stopped. They marched past Brendan—apparently unaware of his presence—as he studied them. There were both males and females in the group brandishing swords and various other Medieval weaponry that seemed to be favored in this new world of Brendan’s. What’s more was the fact that these warriors looked much more like animals than humans. A big, burly bear-man stopped near Brendan and placed the mouthpiece of the horn to his grizzly lips. He sounded an ominous note, and the warriors came to a halt.
“Berserkers,” the bear-man shouted. “Our enemies await their destruction on the other side of this moor. They are but normal men; they have fallen out of the good graces of King Adair and must be punished.”
The Berserkers raised their weapons at the words and showed their eagerness for blood
. One young female warrior dressed in full battle gear stepped forward. What surprised Brendan the most was her appearance. She looked human, complete with long auburn hair that whipped around her head frantically.
“No, Da. Enough is enough,” she proclaimed.
The bear-man’s eyes settled on the girl, large and looming, imposing and terrifying. In a matter of seconds the bear shrank down to a man. Hair receded into his skin and everything about him became human again. He walked over to the girl and lowered his voice.
“Do not speak out of turn, Heidi. I know what’s best for the Berserkers. I know what’s best for my family,” the bear-man declared, ignoring the animal warriors around them.
“Father, there is no sense in King Adair’s thinking. These people are farmers caught on hard times, that’s all.” Her eyes pleaded for understanding.
“King Adair has spoken, but more importantly he’s already paid and me being a man of my word, well that doesn’t bode well for these farmers.”
“What are your orders, Ulrich?” a massive bison-man asked.
“Blood.”
Ulrich’s body seamlessly transformed back into the bear-man, and he raised his mace to the sky. “Leave no one standing!”
Brendan watched the animal-inspired battalion charge off into the haze. Heidi stood stock still staring at her father who stared back.
“I’m finished with this, Da. It’s not right.”
As soon as the words left her mouth she transformed into a tigress-woman and sprinted in the opposite direction.
Ulrich grunted and followed his animal horde into the distance. Brendan stood there a moment looking back and forth between the two directions.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m, not sure what I’m supposed to get from this other than there are a whole lot of freaky beings out there.”
“Can a Protector be that short sighted?” boomed a voice from behind Brendan.
The presence startled him and he spun around to see who was addressing him.
“Nuada?”
There was something different about the ultragod that Brendan couldn’t place. Nuada’s face was still hidden from Brendan’s sight, but so was his entire body. To Brendan, looking at Nuada was like watching a shadow puppet show. Brendan dismissed it since he knew he was still in a vision.
“What are you doing here?” Brendan asked with a bit of a bite to his tone, still angry over the turn his life had taken since joining Nuada’s crusade.
“I’ve come to help you,” the silver god proclaimed.
“Are you going to wake me up? Because I can’t seem to do it for myself.”
“No. My new form won’t allow me to physically access this universe.”
“What do you mean?” Brendan asked.
Nuada stood in silence. “Elathan searches for the Emerald Crown of the World, and if he’s successful, then reality as you know it will be forever changed.”
“What can I do about it?” Brendan asked, lashing out. “I’m stuck in a sleep and I can only feel this unshakeable anger deep inside my head.” He turned away from Nuada. “Why on Earth would you pick me or any of my ancestors, for that matter? What makes us so special?”
Nuada was silent at first. “All will be lost.”
Brendan scowled over his shoulder at the ultragod. “I need answers!”
“Make haste, Brendan O’Neal. Make haste,” Nuada said as he faded out of sight.
Brendan stood in the fog seething and waiting for the next vision to begin.
…
“Open your mind,” Caoranach cooed as she paced behind Elathan who was perched in his throne. “Open it farther than you think possible.”
He sat there and let her words wash over his thoughts. Her voice sang commands, and his mind’s eye followed her directions.
“Where are you taking me?” he whispered.
The room fell silent but Elathan could sense that she was still nearby, though their location had shifted. He opened his eyes and saw that he was in a library of sorts, possibly situated in a dungeon. A single candle was burning on a round wooden table near a stack of scrolls.
Elathan stood up and slowly walked around the room scanning the titles on bound leather books and the end caps of scroll holders. A door opened, and a very old man descended a set of stone stairs that circled their way up. He was holding a single rolled scroll as he walked and carefully placed it on the table.
The old man began to speak, but the words were foreign to Elathan. He listened anyway, memorizing the sounds and syllables. The man nearly jumped for joy, clapping his hands together once he finished.
“This is glorious! The Dogma’s own words!” he cheered.
Elathan leaned over the old man’s shoulder and saw the writing, which was also unfamiliar to him. He memorized every line, every curve, and every symbol. Once he was finished, he closed his eyes.
He felt the shift again, and this time when he opened his eyes Caoranach was floating before him, waiting.
“What did you learn?” she asked.
Elathan’s lips formed a sly grin. “Everything.”
Chapter 11
Upper Hand
Icy streams blistered the air above Dorian’s head as the niseags lasered towards the center of the Ossorian village. Two unfortunate souls were struck directly and knocked across the road like ice cubes tossed from a cup. Screams mixed with roars and growls when many of the adult Ossorians morphed their bodies into the beasts. The children and the elderly scattered for cover only to be stopped by dozens and dozens of Goblins. Dunters, Redcaps, Brags, and Bendiths dropped off of the niseags’ backs, carrying a nasty disposition and brandishing an array of weapons.
Four Brags transformed their bodies into what resembled a bear from Earth, only they sprouted massive wings with additional claws on the tips of the wings. They charged at an old male Ossorian, and Dorian knew she had to interfere. She reached out her palm and red energy began to dance between her fingers. She let loose a magical energy blast and the four Brags were blasted to bits, a lone hand being the only evidence of their existence.
“Whoa!” Dorian yelped. “I didn’t mean to kill them, but I’ve never been that powerful before.”
Airmid pointed to Dorian’s pocket. “I think it has something to do with that white shard you found.”
Ossorians and Goblins fought, shedding blood and tearing flesh until more niseags dropped off another hundred Goblins. Dorian stood on the side and began picking them off like skeet discs, but there were too many. The goblins were overwhelming the wolves and when the niseags began to land the tide was turned completely.
“We can’t stay here! We need to go now!” Airmid pleaded.
Dorian nodded. She and Airmid began to run into the forest while hearing the anguished screams and cries for help from the Ossorians. Once they had run for a good distance they finally stopped to rest at the base of a thick tree.
“I’ve never seen anything quite like that,” Airmid said while trying to catch her breath.
“I haven’t either, except maybe in movies or human history books,” Dorian replied as she sat down and leaned back against the trunk.
Airmid stood up straight and cocked her head. “What is movies?”
Dorian smiled at the reminder that she wasn’t on the Earth any longer. She thought about how she was going to reply when a deep growl from high above caught her attention.
“Did you bring the Goblins to my village?” a beefy werewolf asked accusingly before hopping down. He towered over Dorian and Airmid, his maw caught in a permanent snarl.
“Of course not!” Dorian said. “Didn’t you see me take out about twenty of them?”
The wolf looked away from them in confusion. “But who then?”
“I hate to tell you this, but the Banshees are running things in Mag Mell,” Dorian said.
“Then I need to find those Banshees,” he growled.
“We need to find those Banshees, friend,” Airmid corrected.
He n
odded and pressed his palm to his chest, “Harn.”
“I’m Dorian, and this is my goddess friend Airmid. We’ll help you find out what is happening.”
Harn dropped his head into his palms and shrank back into a human form. “All of my people are gone, either dead or taken.”
The women each put a hand on his shoulder.
“Let’s see what we can do about it,” Dorian offered.
…
Oscar was beginning to doubt Ruger’s tracking abilities. It would have been understandable since the animal was now more spirit than canine, but still Oscar had allowed himself to hope. Luckily for Ruger and Oscar, Bodach and his Goblins had made it easier for them.
“Do you know where the Nez Canyons are, Ruger? I mean, we’ve been walking for a while,” Oscar said, giving his friend a rub behind the ears. “I think I’ve seen this tree three times already.”
He stopped and looked towards the treetop, the sun’s light poking through the leaves, and something in the play of the light seemed familiar. Immediately, Oscar began to recall a plateau near the Trondheim Fjord in Norway adjacent to the Scandinavian Mountains.
He could see the scene in his mind’s eye. The landscape was breathtaking and there was a bit of bite to the temperature, but nothing that was too uncomfortable. Angie was there as well. They held hands and walked like people often did, lost in the feelings of young love. It was hard to remember how they had traveled to Norway since Oscar couldn’t recall ever being to Europe prior to that fateful trip a year ago.
As they traversed the countryside they stumbled upon a massive tree that looked wildly out of place among the thinner-trunk trees scattered about.
“Do you feel that?” Oscar had asked Angie.
She pulled into his chest and hugged him tightly. “Of course, silly, it’s love.”
Oscar hugged her back, but that wasn’t what he was talking about, although the more they embraced the more her love was on his mind.
She’s distracting you.
He heard the words as clearly as if someone said them standing at his side, but he and Angie were alone. He knew the voice was right, and apparently Angie thought so as well.
The Bloodline Inheritance Page 14
