“Yes, she’s a goddess, blah-blah-blah. We need to get back to the realm of the gods and back to Brendan,” Dorian said, the worry apparent in her tone.
Aine and Faolan embraced now in their human forms.
“Thank you for your help,” Aine said, moving in to hug Lizzie. “We promise to keep up the fight against the Banshees for as long as it takes.”
“Good luck, and may fortune be on your side,” Faolan offered.
“I hate to say it,” Dorian said, “but we’re going to need a lot more than luck.”
…
Brendan’s mind was strained. Once again he tried to reach out to his family and friends, and once again he came up blank.
“Why can’t I do this?” he shouted to the blackness of his mind.
He tried to relax his thoughts and control the rage that he was slowly beginning to give in to. He tried to picture Dorian’s face and was pleasantly surprised when a fuzzy image of her danced to life before him. She looked relieved but worried at the same time.
“I did that to you, didn’t I,” he mumbled.
Suddenly, a few more images began to pop up around Dorian surprising Brendan. Lizzie, Frank, and Garnash stood around talking casually as if they were in a coffee shop and not on the precipice of Armageddon. Rory and Biddy flared to life dancing and holding one another wrapped in the bonds of love. Oscar and a woman appeared and that made Brendan take another look.
“Wait, Mom? That can’t be her,” he said bewildered. “You’re just in your head Brendan,” he admonished himself. “Santa Clause could show up here.”
All of his friends appeared to be so happy until the silence was shattered by the sounds of war and death. One by one each image vanished in a puff of golden light that broke into smoke before blending back into the darkness. Finally the deadly golden light reached Dorian and destroyed her image as well.
“Noooooooooo! Don’t take them from me! Don’t take her from me!”
He dropped to his knees and allowed hope to run from his mind.
Chapter 14
News
Do you think we should head north, Biddy?” Rory asked. “I’m getting nervous for Sinead and the others.”
Biddy pursed her lips and traced her finger around the rim of her coffee mug. “We don’t even know where they are.”
“We know they’re in Scotland,” Rory offered.
“Scotland is sort of a country, love. That’s a lot of space to go searching willy-nilly.”
“I guess you’re right,” Rory said, getting to his feet. He walked over to the open door and looked out at Corways not knowing how much time they had until Elathan returned with whatever evil army he could muster. His thoughts drifted to Dorian and Brendan and the others. “Do you think we’ll ever see our friends again?”
Biddy opened her mouth to speak but a glimmering light dancing in the air over the main road in Corways caught her attention. “Rory, do you see that?”
“Aye, it looks like a butterfly,” he replied.
“Sierra!” they shouted in unison.
The energy butterfly flitted through the doorway and landed on Rory’s shoulder. Biddy hurried over and together they leaned in and listened.
“A Súmaire has killed Sinead and Finn,” Sierra’s voice announced, an audible tremor in her voice.
“No, it can’t be,” Biddy screeched.
“He now knows where to find the Crown for Elathan. I’m afraid all may be lost.” The butterfly was silent but it didn’t disappear like the first time, so Rory and Biddy waited. “I will do my best to follow them as they are headed towards northern Scotland. If I can send any messages back to you, I will. If they catch me, then this is my farewell.”
The final syllable of her words brought about the disintegration of the messenger. Rory reached out and held Biddy close, both of them knowing that things were about to get a lot worse.
…
Elathan’s castle sat stoically along the wall of a mountain’s face taking a beating from a relentless thunderstorm. The fire lake crackled and smoked giving the castle a hellish facade.
“Elathan?” a soft voice rose in the golden god’s mind.
“What is it, Crannog?” he replied through his connection with the Súmaire.
“I have located the Crown’s entrance, but I cannot get in.”
“Let me worry about that. Where is the location?” Elathan asked excitedly.
“You will need to come to the Standing Stones of Callanish, Master.”
“Hidden in plain sight? Clever.” Elathan pictured the site and smiled to himself. “Stay at the Crown and await my arrival.”
Elathan opened his eyes and was caught off guard by Caoranach hovering before him.
“Good news?” she asked, tendrils of smoke escaped her lips making the room smell like brimstone.
He relayed what Crannog had reported before he said, “It’s time to return to Earth, my dear.”
“And what of our guests?” Caoranach asked, feigning concern.
“They’re Camulos’ problem now, but before we go, there are a couple of things I need.”
…
“So all this time that I’ve been away, you never met anyone else?” Angie asked shyly.
Oscar shook his head and stared at her lovingly. “My heart was already taken.”
The reunited couple walked hand in hand across the beautiful landscape of Tech Duinn. Ruger walked a few feet behind keeping a watchful eye on his long-lost owners.
“It had to have been tough being here all on your own for so many years,” Oscar offered. “I at least had the children.”
“The children and you, of course, is what kept me going. It’s true that there always was that dark place in my mind where Conchar was living, but for the most part my mind was my own. I learned early on that this place could be dangerous, so I survived by becoming nomadic.”
“Really? As I recall you were the girl who hated camping,” he said with a smile.
She returned his smile and reached up and kissed him. “So you’ve told me about what’s happened in the last year to get us to this point, but what exactly is happening with Brendan?”
“He’s going to die,” a deep voice called from behind before Oscar could answer.
Oscar and Angie swung around quickly and spotted a pair of imposing figures. “Elathan?”
The ghostly fur on Ruger’s back stood on end as the dog stepped between the newcomers and his masters.
“Did you think you could come into my realm without me knowing, Seeker?” Elathan spat.
“I will never search out anything for you again. You hear me?” Oscar shouted, pumping his fist at the golden god and his companion.
“The only thing you will bring me aside from your demise is leverage should it be needed.” Elathan said nonchalantly.
“We don’t need them, Elathan,” Caoranach hissed into his ear. “You are an ultragod, a supreme power. A mere human cannot hope to oppose you.”
“True, but I want the Seeker to watch his beloved children burn before I take his worthless life.”
“Leave our children alone!” Oscar demanded.
“It will all be over shortly.”
…
“Argona? Where are you?” Arawn whispered, his head still groggy from an unfortunate encounter with Elathan.
The golden god had rushed them in their cell and had quickly overtaken them. Arawn had taken a punch or two in his day but the way Elathan fought felt like being pummeled by boulders. His pride wanted to make excuses for being taken so easily, but his heart knew that he couldn’t. Elathan had made short work of two very powerful gods without breaking a sweat and then threw them into blackness.
He was jerked awake when he felt his body crash onto a hard surface. He opened his eyes and realized that his entire body was wrapped in some sort of bag and binding and for a moment he found it hard to breath. It took a few minutes to recognize that he could draw in air and only then did he call out to Argona.
/>
“What?” she replied, grogginess evident in her voice.
“Where are you?” he asked again.
“Close to you, but I don’t know where we are. I can’t see anything.” Argona rustled around—Arawn could hear her trying to move—but the attempt was fruitless.
“I can’t see either. Where has Elathan taken us?”
An eerie laughter began to populate the air around them.
“And now we’ve come full circle, Arawn. Isn’t that interesting?”
“Camulos? Where are we? Tell me now!” commanded Arawn.
“You demand nothing, fool! I am master of this realm and you are my prisoner,” Camulos boasted.
Seconds later the hoods were ripped off of Arawn and Argona’s heads. The lights were bright at first, but their eyes quickly adjusted. They looked around and noticed that they were in a gray, windowless room. Camulos and Boann stood before them, arrogant as ever.
“Let us go,” Argona shouted.
Camulos cocked his head to one side and looked her in the eye. “No,” he said. “You are two of the more powerful gods—and I use the term loosely on you, Arawn—so I need your deaths to serve my purposes.”
“You’re disgusting,” Argona said.
Boann stepped forward and slapped Argona across the face. “Camulos demands your respect! You would be wise to oblige.”
Argona’s expression shifted from fear to a focused anger. “Let this be known, Boann, once I am free, you are the first one I’ll visit.”
“Still got it, eh, Argona?” Camulos said with a laugh. “And to think, at one point I was jealous of Arawn—not anymore.” Camulos glanced over at Boann and winked. She blushed and then moved in under his arm. “You die soon.”
Arawn and Argona watched the sinister pair exit the room arm and arm, shutting the door once more and casting the room into darkness.
“What are we going to do?” Argona asked, a vulnerability showing in her words.
“We’ve gotten out of worse situations than this,” Arawn replied, though he wasn’t sure that escape really was a possibility.
…
Brendan stood in the nothingness of his mind and concentrated like he had never done before. He had to try and convince himself that he had indeed seen his family and friends. If it wasn’t real, then what did the vision mean? Was it only his imagination or did he see into the future? He needed to find out.
“Dorian?” he said, reaching out his senses.
Silence was the only reply he received at first, but then he picked up on something—something odd. A point of light popped to life in front of his eyes and hung in midair. The light grew larger and Brendan could make out the shape of what looked like a shard of a mineral. It was white and he could feel the power within it.
“This must be a remnant of the Dominion Pulses!” he exclaimed.
A map of the realms of Otherworld appeared behind the shard reminding Brendan of the old world maps that hung in his high school’s history class, yellowed by time and marred by the markings of high school vandals. Six points of light flashed on the map, one in each realm.
“You’re showing me the locations of the remnants, aren’t you,” he said with a smile that hadn’t crossed his lips in a while.
“Time grows short, Brendan O’Neal,” the Morrigan’s voice echoed through his mind.
“I know!” Brendan said frustrated. “I know, but I can’t break out of this state. I can’t do anything. Maybe its best if I stay comatose so that I’m oblivious when Elathan kills me.”
He hung his head but the pulsating brightness of the remnant drew his eyes back up; to his surprise all of his family and friends were standing there waving to him and smiling. They looked battle weary but alive.
“Only you can make this a reality, but you will need the help of Otherworld. You will need the remnants,” the Morrigan warned. “Time grows short.”
…
Sam’s Creek was quiet until the massive megalithic structures began to hum. Elathan, Caoranach, Oscar, and Angie emerged from the center, the golden god using his power to toss the humans onto the barren dirt. Oscar struggled to his knees, his wound still bleeding and throbbing, while Angie tried to help him to his feet.
“Why do you hate the Earth so much?” Oscar asked, furious.
“I actually don’t hate the Earth,” Elathan replied. “I hate Nuada. I hate what he and the Morrigan value.”
“You hate humans,” Angie said.
Elathan grinned cruelly. “I just hate.”
…
“Okay, so where are we now?” Frank asked after stepping out of a set of five megaliths overlooking a peaceful stretch of land near a bubbling stream.
“Tir na nOg, the Realm of the Gods,” Airmid answered. “Home sweet home.” Airmid opened her flask and began walking towards the Springs of Purity. “Dorian, would you be a dear and go and fetch your boyfriend for me? He should be in there sleeping peacefully.”
“I’ll come and help you,” Frank offered.
Lizzie followed Airmid to the edge of the water. “What’s it like being a goddess?”
Airmid stopped and raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure what you mean. What’s it like being a human? Or better yet, what’s it like to be a Protector?”
Lizzie was taken aback by the questions. “I guess it’s cool… not sure how to answer. I mean, you are a goddess, right? That’s crazy to me.”
“I would look at it more like I’m just me and you’re just you. No matter what type of being we are, we just exist and we need to find our places in the world.”
Lizzie nodded but quickly turned her head when Dorian and Frank came running out of the cottage.
“He’s not here!” Dorian shouted.
“What?” Airmid asked perplexed.
“He’s gone,” Frank confirmed. “That house is empty.”
Airmid cradled her flask and ran into the house. She came back out absolutely befuddled. “Where is he?”
“Can you wake him up without him being here?” Dorian asked.
“No, I need to be close to him to bring him out of the rest safely,” Airmid replied.
“Wait, what’s this?” Garnash asked, pointing to a piece of parchment stuck to the eve by a knife.
Airmid snatched it down and unfolded the letter. She read it and then let the paper fall to the ground.
“What is it?” Frank asked.
“My cousin, Boann. She took Brendan for Camulos.” She looked up in horror at Dorian. “He could already be…”
“Don’t talk that way,” Dorian ordered. “If there is anyone I’ve ever known to be a survivor, it’s Brendan.”
Chapter 15
Trials
The front door of the Celtic Heritage House rattled beneath Simmons’ fist. After speaking with several other of the missing students who had somehow managed to turn up, the detective found himself once again at Ken Saito’s door.
“Simmons? What are you doing here?” Ken asked once the door was opened.
“I’ve got some questions, kid. Can you step outside?”
Ken nodded and the two of them began to walk down the steps. The sun was still able to keep the temperature comfortable, but winter was fast approaching.
“I’ve been talking to a lot of the survivors from the summer’s disappearances, and they are all giving me similarly odd accounts of what they remember from that time. Do you know what they are saying?”
“I have no idea. What are they saying?” Ken asked, crossing his arms across his chest.
“All of them talk about memory loss, having nightmares, feelings of being controlled. Sound familiar to you?”
Ken cocked his head. “Do you not remember anything from our time in the Chamber? Don’t you remember all of the crazy things we experienced?”
“Things like that can’t happen! You idiots drugged me and drew me into your sick fantasy world, and you know it,” Simmons accused. “I’m here trying to find real answers to real problems, Ken. Are
you going to help me or not?”
“If you don’t trust your own eyes and experiences I’m not sure what you think I can tell you.”
“What was the drug that you guys used, huh? Something new? Did you cook it up yourself? Come on, kid, I can help you if you help me,” Simmons offered.
“You just don’t get it, Simmons! There are some crazy things happening in the world right now, and it’s not explainable with your limited view of the world. I mean, you are so blinded by your own sense of reality that you can’t even recognize when it’s changed!”
“Okay, how about I run you into the station for some questioning?” Simmons threatened. “Buckle in for a long night.”
“What’s this fool carrying on about?” a voice sang out from the bushes.
“Don’t you know nothing, Simmons?” echoed a second voice.
Simmons spun around and spotted the Smith sisters hovering in midair with their hands on their hips giving him the look.
The detective’s knees went wobbly and he sat down in the grass. “You are real?”
“It don’t get more real than us, honey,” Wanda said.
“You can say that again,” Patty followed up.
“That’s right, Simmons—all of this is real.” Ken held out his hand and offered it to the detective. “Nobody else is home. Let’s go inside, have some coffee, and talk this through.”
“Well, alright,” Patty agreed.
“Especially if you got scones,” Wanda added.
…
Brendan knew he was on Earth as soon as the world around him came into focus. Since he entered his stupor, his visions had taken him to Earth and Otherworld and back again. This time he was on the bottom of a cylindrical room, presumably a dungeon or basement. Books and scrolls filled shelves all around him, and a simple wooden table sat perched in the center with a single candle burning.
It didn’t take long for an old man to make his way down the stairs and to the table where he unrolled an ancient scroll. Brendan walked right over to the old man and looked down at the odd symbols written on the paper. He had never seen anything like them before—not in the Celtic text or any of the writings in Otherworld.
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