“Yes, Myrrdn. We understand.”
“Good. The results, otherwise, could be catastrophic.”
“Thank you, sir,” Diarmid answered. “How can I repay you?”
“Well, young Druid, the advantage of this breach is I’ll be able to come visit you at any time. Once you are more acclimated, I would love to explore your future world more thoroughly.”
“Of course, Myrrdn. Again, thank you!”
“We must travel a fair distance to reach the place where the veil between this world and that time and place is thin enough to establish a gate. These creatures should make our travel swifter.”
Myrrdn gave a whistle, and the sound of hooves galloping across the fertile grove resounded in the distance. It was not long before two white, majestic forms emerged. The light reflecting from their singular, crystallized horns was the first clue—these were unicorns!
“What!” Joni exclaimed.
“Intense,” Emilie said.
“Just watch where you’re stepping,” Tyler added, pointing to something that resembled rainbow nougat caked to the bottom of Diarmid’s sandal.
“No way. That can’t be real…” I said.
“It is indeed, young Druid,” our elder Nesbitt said. “Unicorns do indeed have rainbow-colored poop. Don’t try to eat it, though. Still tastes like shit.”
All us laughed at the joke. It was not long before these majestic creatures had made their way to where we stood. They stood taller than a typical horse, but their frames were sturdy, their muscles bulging. Not a single speck of dirt or any imperfection interrupted their flowing, white manes.
“Epona!” Grainne expressed. “It has been too long!”
“I see you are familiar with these creatures,” Diarmid said.
“Indeed. This one was born during my first cycle of service unto the Tree of Life.”
“First cycle?”
“We nymph serve a cycle, then rest. There is a council of Dryad who serve this tree. Though, since I was reborn in your world the cycles must have been interrupted.”
“And how many cycles did you serve?”
“One hundred and seventy-five, going back to the days of Ask and Embla.”
“Are you serious? Wow, I mean… I had no idea.”
“What, Diarmid? Intimidated by an older woman?”
My father laughed. “No. I mean, I just didn’t know. Are you sure you don’t need to stay?”
“If Michael charged you to awaken me in your world, there must be another purpose. My time of service unto the Tree of Life is over. Our life together has begun.”
Then, my parents kissed. Nasty.
Myrrdn cleared his throat. “Come now, lovebirds. We have little time to spare.”
With that, my parents mounted the unicorn my mother had called Epona, my father holding onto my mother’s waist from behind. Myrrdn climbed atop the other one. As they galloped across the grove, we found ourselves suddenly whisked from our feet, carried along by the limits of my father’s memory. These images seemed so real at times that it was easy to forget we weren’t actually there.
While the journey across the groves of Annwn must have taken an hour or more, time seemed to fly as we took in all the sights. Everything was, as Emilie would say, intense.
“So, Nesbitt,” I asked, “is this what our Earth used to be like?”
“It was, long ago, before Ask and Embla fell prey to the Wayward Tree.”
“Where is this Wayward Tree? I see nothing like that.”
Nesbitt gestured into the distance. “You can see the blighted land if you look hard, across the plains. That is Samhuinn. The Wayward Tree lies just beyond the border separating Annwn’s groves from Samhuinn.”
“I see it,” I said. “How can we see so far? My father’s memory…”
“Your mother’s memories also contribute to this vision,” Nesbitt said. “She helped your father prepare these recollections.”
I was surprised I hadn’t noticed it sooner. While we only floated a few feet above Diarmid, Grainne, and Myrrdn, the flat plains of Annwn allowed us to see miles in every direction. In the direction Nesbitt pointed, there was something dark and ominous out there. It was formless, and I couldn’t make out any details. Still, it was clear that Samhuinn was not a place any of us would ever hope to see.
As the unicorns below slowed down, we gradually descended back to ground level. As each rider dismounted, my father helping my mother down as a gentleman would, both unicorns made their way to a bubbling stream and began to drink. The stream was surrounded by nine trees, each bearing nuts. Hazel trees, perhaps. Within the waters swam five shadowy figures. Salmon, as best as I could tell. A single nut fell from one of the trees and the five fish each swarmed around it, consuming it piece by piece.
“I can take you no further,” Myrrdn said, casting his staff into the stream. As he did, a bright-green light illuminated the bubbling water. The light illuminated the five silvery fish, who were just finishing off the hazel nut that had dropped into their pool. “The gate is now open. It is at the source of this spring. These are life-giving waters. They will sustain you in your earthly lives. I will come visit you soon. But now you must go.”
“Thank you, Myrrdn,” Grainne said as she led my father into the waters. The five salmon scattered to the perimeter of the pool as they entered the water. Each turned, as if to watch their descent into the gate.
“Yes, thank you, sir. Not just for this, but for protecting our people,” Diarmid said.
Myrrdn nodded as my parents plunged headlong into the bubbling waters. As they swam down, our vision again began fading into darkness. As our vision waned, a shrouded black figure with glowing red eyes approached Myrrdn from behind… But that was the last vision of Annwn my father’s memory would provide.
16. Lugh
WE FOUND OURSELVES seated, once again, around the table at the Shire. “Nesbitt,” I said once I had regained my senses, “who was that?”
“Who do you mean?”
“As the vision faded, I saw someone in black. Red eyes, just like the girl who confronted me in Forest Park.”
Nesbitt sighed. “That was the Morrigan.”
“The one you said was confined to the Wayward Tree in Samhuinn?” Emilie asked.
“The same.”
“So, what happened?” I asked.
“The Morrigan is… How can I put this… She is my equivalent in certain ways, representing Samhuinn. Though her goal is not to guard our gates, but to use whatever means she can to expand her rule, even into the earth when she can, impacting this world in dreadful ways.”
“Dreadful ways? Like what?” Tyler asked.
“Too many to number. Consider almost every atrocity in history—she had her hand in it in some way.”
“But you made it sound like she was imprisoned in the Wayward Tree…” Joni added.
“I said she languishes there. This was not always the case. Her imprisonment is a relatively recent development, and I cannot say it will endure indefinitely. Eventually she will find a way out. Her existence is nothing but an eternal languishing of torment and misery. After she confronted me that day, she attempted to levy a war in Annwn, to spread Samhuinn’s blight to the spring which now connects Annwn to this place.”
“But she did not succeed, I presume?” I asked.
“She did not. I rallied the Dryads and the other nymphs. It took all of us working together, but we fought her back. I encountered her again some years later and bound her to the Wayward Tree. She is not a nymph, but her place within the cursed tree’s blight is somewhat analogous to how a dormant Dryad lies in rest within the good trees of Annwn. After I confined her to the tree, I set up a ley line between Annwn’s groves and the blighted Samhuinn, preventing any whose hearts willingly align with the Wayward Tree from crossing. Were she ever to emerge, she would have free reign in Samhuinn. The ley line should at least prevent her from encroaching upon Annwn. She has only walked the Earth in physical form a few time
s before. If you know of May Day because of the Maia’s first breach between worlds when Grainne was reborn on Earth, then what you call Halloween is the time when she first managed to pierce the veil between our worlds.”
“So the girl in Forest Park—definitely not the Morrigan.”
“I think it impossible. She has not yet managed to escape the Wayward Tree. Still, she uses her influence to recruit acolytes, followers who might be able to traverse the worlds on her behalf. If any worker of maleficium manages to connect to the Wayward Tree and draw upon its powers, she may exert her influence over them. It appears she may have found one such acolyte.”
“And my dad’s village—Ceridwen and all them. Did Fionn attack them?”
“He did, many times. I was able to intervene. My covenant with your father was an eternal bond. It has never been my intention, as you heard my younger self declare, to trifle in earthly affairs. But ever since the Maia, ever since I rescued Diarmid and Grainne and brought them to your era, I’ve been called upon time and time again to protect the descendants of Ceridwen and the rest of her clan. It all began with this promise, this covenant I made with your father.”
“So this covenant,” I said, “binds you to all of Ceridwen’s descendants forever?”
“It is a matter of interpretation, I suppose,” Nesbitt continued, “but I have reasons why I should like to see her line preserved, at least through the present. One so gifted as Miss Campbell here could never have been born otherwise.”
“And that’s why you’re here now,” Joni said. “To help me…”
Nesbitt nodded. “And more, since the untimely death of Mr. Wadsworth’s parents, this breach has been vulnerable. I have had to defend it until Mr. Wadsworth came of age. In the meantime, my duties as gatekeeper have been neglected. I fear it is on account of this that the Morrigan was able to recruit an acolyte. While confined, she nevertheless can appear in astral form in Samhuinn, and if a gateway is open on Earth. Her purpose is clear: she intends to blight the breach between our worlds, to use this place to channel Samhuinn’s blight into this world.”
I reached and grabbed the sigil stone from the table. “There must be more my father has to tell us. Should we try again?”
“This was the last recorded memory, aside from the very first you saw, that your father managed to impress upon the stone. I fear that there are many events he was unable to transmit to us. The occasion of your parents’ death, for instance…”
“In the first memory, he told me that I was the only hope. What did that mean?”
“I am still unsure. But it does seem that your family’s death was no accident. The Morrigan was surely behind it. Since that day, however, my duties have been split between my role as Annwn’s gatekeeper and protecting this gate. All I can figure is that this must have been their plan from the start. To wipe out your family, but to leave one heir alive in hopes of recruiting you to her their side… So long as you live, this gate will remain open.”
“So… if I were to die, the world would be safer?”
“Bear…” Emilie protested.
“Well, that’s what it sounds like,” I said.
“Young Druid, even if you were to die and this breach were to close, it would be little more than a temporary setback for the Morrigan. Her schemes are always complex—she always has contingencies planned. The hope you represent, young Druid, for keeping the Morrigan from breaching this world is far greater than anything you might accomplish by preventing her access to this breach.”
“So there are no more memories in this stone… Can I still access the ones I already saw?”
“You can. And more than that, it retains whatever of your father’s conscious memory he impressed upon it. Consider it his gift to you. You may speak to him, or his memory, rather, whenever you need. There may be wisdom or insights into the situation he did not record visually.”
Emilie reached over and grabbed my hand, recognizing the comfort of being able to at least access my father’s memory and approximated consciousness would bring. Joni noticed the touch, but intentionally diverted her eyes away from it. Emilie and I were close, and she knew that. She would have to accept it, one way or another.
“So, how do I fit into all of this?” Joni said. “I mean, my father’s ancestors at least didn’t come here from the past.”
“They did, Miss Campbell. They only did so the old-fashioned way.”
“The old-fashioned way?”
“The standard method of traversing time—one day at a time, Miss Campbell. Have you seen your family’s crest?”
“I have, actually. On one of my ancestor’s old journals.”
“It features a boar. After Diarmid disappeared, the legend spread that he was killed by a boar during a hunt. The story is only partly true. Diarmid and Fionn did go on a hunt together, shortly after Fionn had acquired the Oxter bag. A wild boar caught Diarmid by surprise, gouging his abdomen. Diarmid looked to Fionn to help. He retrieved some berries from his bag—berries that were thought to expedite the healing of any wound. Then he changed his mind, pocketed them, and left Diarmid to die. Of course, Diarmid did not die. Those connected to the Tree of Life are resilient, and can sustain greater injuries than most. Still, the legend spread throughout the four groves. Once Diarmid went missing, this incident came to be the explanation of his death. The boar on your family’s crest is no accident—you are descended from the same clan. Ceridwen herself is your great-many-times-over grandmother through your father’s side. And your mother… I believe you know that story already.”
“I do,” Joni said. “Just before she was attacked by Messalina, my mother told me she was descended from the Fomorians.”
Nesbitt nodded. “So you see, the story Mr. Wadsworth has blessed us to witness is as much your own as it is Elijah’s. As integral as Ceridwen was to Diarmid’s success, so too are you to Mr. Wadsworth.”
“So your covenant… Your promise to Diarmid…” Joni said, pondering Nesbitt’s explanation.
“It binds me to you, too. I could see no better way to protect each of you than bring you together. The Campbell and Wadsworth legacies go hand-in-hand.”
“Alright, Nesbitt. So how do we start?” I asked. “I’m not sure of a lot of things. Some of this is overwhelming. We’re supposed to graduate from high school in just over two weeks, and it’s the furthest thing from my mind. This is what’s consuming my life now… And I want to know… I want to master this…”
“Me too,” Joni added.
“There is no mastery of what we speak of, young Druids. Mastery is what a conqueror seeks. This is not how you relate to the Spirit of Annwn. If you seek to master it, dominate it, you will fail, and you will open the door for the way of the Wayward Tree. Instead, you must embrace Annwn’s energy, commune with it. The Spirit of Annwn does not come to your aid because you command it to do so. It does so because you are connected to it.”
“So, when do we get started?” I asked.
“There is a reason why I brought you here today, on May Day. It is the day when the veil between our worlds is the thinnest. The spring in Annwn, from where the gate to this place was formed, flows here more powerfully than at any other day of the year. You will be able to grasp the power emanating from the Tree of Life more acutely than at any other time. We get started today.”
With that, Nesbitt stood from the table. The oaken stools we were perched upon retracted into the floor, and we all landed squarely on our butts.
“Ouch!” Tyler exclaimed.
Nesbitt chuckled. “I suppose I should have warned you about that.”
“Ya think?” Emilie added.
“Come this way,” Nesbitt said as he bid us to follow him through the open sun porch. “There’s someone you need to meet.”
As we all gathered on the balcony overlooking the luscious green landscape below, Nesbitt tapped his staff against the spiraled oak railing. The twisted rail immediately responded, untwisting and expanding rapidly in a downward spiral.
Branches from each side of the descending limbs met in the middle, forming a sort of staircase. With a subtle nod, Nesbitt directed us to follow him down the steps. The staircase terminated at the opening of a cave which apparently ran beneath the Shire.
“Fyr!” Nesbitt declared, and two rows of torches on either side of the cave walls immediately took to flame. The dancing flames cast awkward shadows of each of us as we made our way deeper inside. The narrow passageway opened up to a domed room surrounded by natural columns and stalactites, each glistening with moisture and reflecting the light given off by the torches, which likewise surrounded the chamber. A large, bubbling pool sat at the center of the cavern. It was illuminated not merely by the torchlight, but by a light that seemed to originate in its depths.
Nesbitt extended his staff into the water as a green glow emanated from his eyes, channeling down his staff and shooting directly into the spring. “Open sesame!”
Tyler nudged me. “Did he really just say ‘open sesame?’”
I shrugged.
A dark figure appeared beneath the surface of the water, slowly swimming upward. As the creature emerged from the pool, he was something unlike anything I had ever seen. He had the form of a human, but his skin was like bark, covered with leaves. His face, too, was human-like, but longer and thinner. His eyebrows resembled moss like one might find on the north side of a tree trunk, and his ears were pointed. His hair was a jade green, like Grainne’s, long and flowing.
Gates of Eden: Starter Library Page 20
