The Dominion Pulse

by Brad A. LaMar

  …

  “This is where Bibe lives, Rohl?” Brendan asked as he surveyed the small but quaint seaside town of Carloway on the Isle of Lewis. They had already strolled past several small clusters of homes and farms and too many lochs to count.

  “Aye,” Rohl said, still in horse form and walking on the black gravel path in the middle of town. “This is the Garenin Blackhouse Village, a very old community of humans. I’ve had gobs of fun pranking these folks over the years.”

  “What’s your deal? Why do you mess with people?”

  Rohl laughed. “What else is there to do in Scotland? It’s not like I golf.”

  “I wonder where everybody is?” Brendan asked.

  “Not sure. Probably heard me coming and went into hiding,” Rohl said with a chuckle.

  Garenin Blackhouse Village was a throwback to a bygone Scottish era that the townspeople and historical society were trying to restore. Bed and breakfasts were beginning to pop up around the scenic village complete with its megaliths, rolling farms, cliff views of the Atlantic, lochs, and lovely beaches. Brendan could see all of the restoration work that had been completed. The people who lived here seemed to be optimistic about what the future held.

  No one could have seen what was about to happen in Carloway.

  …

  “Look, Camulos!” Tannus said excitedly from a safe distance on the peaks overlooking the Atlantic Ocean as he pointed to the center of the Blackhouse Village. “Here comes the Protector, and riding on a Púca no less.”

  Camulos searched the village and after a moment spotted Brendan O’Neal on what looked to be a horse. A sinister sneer curled his lips. “Ha! He doesn’t look like much.”

  Tannus closed his eyes and honed his senses, trying to pick up any information he could about the young Protector. Camulos was less willing to wait and began to march down the hill to confront the boy, but Tannus’s hand reached out and grabbed the god of war’s shoulder.

  “Wait,” Tannus warned. “You don’t want to engage the Protector, Camulos, at least not right now.”

  Camulos yanked out of the weaker god’s grasp and adjusted his cloak. “Why shouldn’t I kill him now?”

  “Think about it. He is also in search of the Sword of the Protectors!”

  “All the more reason to kill him now,” argued Camulos, his face feral and growing redder by the second.

  “No, you can’t,” Tannus said, hesitation evident in his speech.

  “Spit it out!” Camulos demanded.

  “I don’t think we could beat him right now,” Tannus confessed. “We need the sword.”

  “How can that be? He’s just a human and I am a god!”

  “No, Camulos, he’s much more than that. Can’t you sense it?” Tannus said with angst, not wanting to further anger the war god.

  Camulos closed his eyes and tried to feel for Brendan’s powers but that was never one of his strong suits. He would have to trust Tannus. “You said it yourself that he was already nearing the sword, so what do you suggest?”

  “Bibe’s home is nearby, and we need to get there first. A distraction may be necessary.”

  Camulos turned back and looked out at the waves that rhythmically rolled to shore, the Blackhouse Village homes, and the lochs that dotted the countryside. “I think I can arrange something.”

  …

  “How much farther is Bibe’s?” Brendan asked.

  Rohl continued to trot, scanning for the right side path that would take him to the goddess’s farmhouse. “It’s hard to remember. I was here so long ago.”

  A deep rumbling growl echoed throughout Carloway. It was such an unfamiliar noise that Brendan didn’t know what to make of it.

  “Did you hear that?” Brendan craned his neck and strained his ears. “Sounded like it was coming from over there near that loch.”

  The Púca’s ears perked and turned toward the loch when the noise sounded again, reverberating throughout the valley and the hills, rattling windows in the small Blackhouse Village. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

  Another jarring cry rang out causing Brendan to cover his ears. “What in the world is that awful sound?”

  “No, it can’t be,” Rohl said. “Get off me!”

  Brendan dismounted and Rohl changed back into his normal Púca self. He scampered up a side of a house and stood on the roof, looking out at the nearest loch. Cows in a nearby pasture panicked and began to stampede away from the loch even before the surface of the water became chaotic and a silver-bodied beast tore free of the water. The beast unfurled its wings and gave one large flap, making it rain on the pasture, the loch, and part of the village. The beast hung motionless above the water as if posing for pictures before it wrought its destruction.

  “That, Brendan, is a niseag,” Rohl called out over his shoulder.

  “I saw one a couple of months ago,” Brendan recalled. “All I know is, don’t let it breath on you.”

  The niseag flapped its wings and held its huge body aloft as it studied the village. The creature had been in hibernation for a very long time, so Brendan assumed the thing was hungry and that did not bode well for the villagers.

  “Let’s take it down, Rohl, before it hurts anyone,” Brendan yelled, trying to be heard above the rush of wind the creature’s wings created. The plan seemed straightforward and to the point until a terror-inducing call from a second niseag was heard. Brendan took a deep breath and stared up at two massive creatures, one was silver and the other was black.

  They were going to have a real fight on their hands.

  …

  The Magog’s valley village was surprisingly quiet when Garnash, Frank, and Lizzie arrived at its borders. A cloaking spell kept the village from being discovered, which was probably best for anyone unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity. The evening sun was growing large and orange, turning the English sky into a softly lit canvas for a few scattered clouds. The trio stalked cautiously to the edge of the camouflaging spell’s bounds.

  Garnash held up his hand. “Wait here for a second. I’ll see if we’re clear on the other side.” The Gnome melted from sight and pushed through the boundary without resistance. Moments later he reappeared and waved for them to come through as well.

  Lizzie and Frank held hands as they entered the boundary and found themselves in the cover of bushes on the Magog side. Garnash led them towards the middle of the village, careful to avoid the paths and the patrolling sentries. After twenty minutes of hiking, they finally reached the town center. They were shocked to see D’Quall standing on a large boulder with his Magogs surrounding him.

  “Did I not promise to wipe the Gnomes from the face of the Earth? Did I not promise to avenge our clan for the Battle of Corways?” D’Quall shouted to his people.

  Garnash’s lip drew up into a snarl as his blood began to boil. “I’m going to kill him,” he whispered.

  “Wait,” Lizzie urged. “Barging in there would not be smart.”

  “Coming this close wasn’t either,” growled a loud voice from behind the trio.

  Before any of them could react, a giant kicked all of them with his massive foot, knocking them out of their safe cover and into the midst of the Descendants of Magog.

  “Look what I found, Bloodright Lord!” shouted the Magog.

  D’Quall narrowed his eyes and hopped down from the rock and began to march towards the three intruders. He shoved a few of his clansmen out of the way to reach them.

  “So the Gnome King has delivered to me the one human who I hate the most.” D’Quall glared down at Lizzie, hatred evident in the depths of his eyes. “Normally I would let you live, Garnash, for delivering me a hated enemy, but since you are also a hated enemy, your reward will be dying second.”

  The Magogs began to move in on the unwanted guests, but D’Quall held up his hand. “No. I kill the girl and then you may have the others.”

  …

  The megaliths in Corways were lighting up every few minutes with new grou
ps of Gnomes emerging battered and beaten, but alive. Gnome women and men consoled each other as Leprechauns brought them food, drinks, and blankets. Rory and Biddy were in charge of the aid effort, directing dozens of the hometown helpers to take the injured to certain designated locations.

  Dorian walked in among the Gnomes and greeted them, spoke with them about their experience, and welcomed them with open arms to Corways.

  “Queen Dorian, I’m Sierra,” a small female Gnome said.

  Dorian stopped and knelt down besides the frail, injured Gnome. “Hello, Sierra. I’m so glad that you’re here with us.”

  “Thank you for providing us with sanctuary.” Her large eyes glossed over with grateful tears. “I’m worried about Garnash and your friends, though.”

  “Why is that?”

  Sierra coughed but was able to hold it together. “They were searching for D’Quall and decided to go straight to the Magog’s valley village. I had to tell you, your highness, I had to.”

  “Thanks, Sierra. Please, go get some rest.” Dorian left the conversation knowing the decision she had to make.

  She walked purposefully over to Rory. “I need to go and find Lizzie. I think she, Frank, and Garnash are biting off more than they can chew going after D’Quall in his own village.”

  “I’ll find you a willing Gnome to transport you to Leeds,” Rory offered.

  Dorian nodded, hoping that she wasn’t going to be too late.

  Chapter 9

  Giant Challenges

  Dewi was lying on his sleeping place with one scaled arm held back behind his head. He had a smug expression on his face that looked menacing to Della. His eyes with vertically slit pupils, his lips corded, and his sharp fangs didn’t help ease her mind. She scampered up to his prison and held up a blue crystal.

  “Lord Elathan has sent me to free you,” she said meekly.

  “I know,” Dewi said pompously.

  The dragon god rose to his feet and waited. Della tossed the crystal into the invisible barrier, and within minutes Dewi stepped into freedom.

  He glanced down at the tiny Brownie who stood shivering in his presence. “Where is Elathan?”

  “I’m not sure, Lord Dewi, but you are to go to Brugh and meet the Seeker and a necromancer named Conchar,” she squeaked.

  “You dare issue me orders?” Smoke tendrils began to dance out of his flared nostrils, fire ready to char the small messenger.

  “These are Elathan’s orders,” she said, the words spoken in a rush. “He spoke directly to my mind as I ran.”

  Dewi relaxed a little and allowed the smoke to trail away. “I will go, but if we ever cross paths again, I will devour you, Puck.”

  He was satisfied that his message was understood and for the first time in a long time, Dewi stretched out his leathery wings—pinned to his back for centuries—and took to the air. He soared a little longer than he had intended to on his way to a megalith tether. Elathan was not a patient god, so delaying his plans for too long would not have been wise.

  …

  Things had already begun to change in Mag Mell and that bothered Faolan. His beautiful love, Aine, must have noticed the differences as well, but having been apart for the last few days they had not had the chance to discuss it. Thankfully, she was due back at any moment and he could finally stop his worrying.

  “Faolan? Are you here?”

  Faolan’s heart leapt at the sound of his wife’s voice. He brushed his soft brown hair off of his bronze skin to get it completely out of his eyes. He wanted to see her as clearly as he could. “I’m here in the garden.”

  He watched as a large creature with a light brown shaggy coat and sharp claws emerged on the path to the garden. Her teeth were bared and her strong frame allowed her to stalk with measured agility. Everything about her was werewolf with the exception of her eyes. Her eyes were deep and comforting to Faolan. They were the eyes of deepest love.

  “Aine, I’m so happy to see you!” he said, sprinting towards the creature.

  As he got closer and closer the werewolf shrank and shifted back into her human visage, a beautiful, slender blonde with those same brilliant eyes. They embraced before either of them said another word. Finally, he pulled her to arm’s length and they smiled at each other before walking to a bench they had placed in the garden a long time ago.

  “How were your travels?” Faolan asked, his hand holding hers so as to not let her go away from him again.

  “Strange,” she replied, confusion on her brow. “It started off like any other journey, but something’s different out there. I don’t know what it is, but there’s so much tension in Mag Mell, it looks like even the beasts and plants are affected.” She reached over and made to touch a flower only to watch it cower away from her.

  “I have sensed that as well. It reminds me of the rule of the Banshees, only worse this time.” He looked out at his moon lilies as they opened their blooms for the soft moonlight. “Last time our elders chose not to act when things turned so quickly in the favor of the Banshees, but we cannot this time. We need to find out what’s happening.”

  “Where should we begin our search?” Aine inquired.

  Faolan got to his feet to think. “Call a meeting of the Ossorian elders, my love. We need to discuss this with them first.”

  …

  The Garenin Blackhouse Village quickly turned into a ghost town. It really surprised Brendan that there wasn’t a single person standing around gawking at the niseags in the sky. It would have been a different story in America. Some kid would have filmed it with his cell phone and within moments it would have a few million views online.

  The black niseag landed on top of one of the black houses, testing the modest home’s structure and durability. It roared and settled its large green eyes directly on Brendan.

  Rohl hopped back down next to Brendan. “I think she’s got eyes for you, kid, and that’s not a good thing.”

  “Change into something that can be useful,” Brendan ordered.

  “What could be useful against that, I ask you?” Rohl began changing his form but was having a hard time settling on a shape. He went from horse to dog to snake and then back to his own diminutive form.

  The black niseag bellowed again, making the Púca shake with fear. “Shut that thing up, I can’t concentrate!”

  Brendan could concentrate, however, and he visualized what he wanted to make happen. He thrust his hands out and sent a directed pulse of energy at the beast. The energy hit the black niseag like a dump truck and shoved it off of the small house, causing it to skid a hundred feet into the pasture. It was stunned but not wounded.

  “Let’s get them away from the village.” Brendan jumped over the row of houses and landed in front of the dazed creature.

  The silver niseag had been snacking on an unfortunate cow but shifted its attention to the fight when the black niseag called out to it. It growled and took to the air, swallowing the last bits of the cow as it dove toward the town and Rohl.

  “Look out!” shouted Brendan.

  The silver niseag opened his maw and let loose a blast of icy breathe. Brendan was about to telekinetically yank Rohl to safety when a streaking animal shot out of the sky and snatched the Púca up and away. The icy stream froze a patch of the black gravel path and the front of a house into a solid block of ice. Frozen bones and bits of the mostly-chewed cow were stuck to the house, turning it into a wintry scene from a horror movie.

  “Brendan! Help!” screeched Rohl from the clutches of a beast he really couldn’t see.

  “Relax, Rohl, Griffin’s got you,” Brendan reassured his companion, though he could tell it didn’t mean much to the Púca based on all of the screaming. He supposed it could have been because the silver niseag changed its flight path and began pursuing Griffin and Rohl.

  “Hang on!” Brendan reached out and telekinetically lassoed the silver beast around the throat and tugged. He pulled it down and slammed it directly into the black niseag, making a large pile
of scaly limbs and leathery wings.

  Griffin and Rohl touched down beside Brendan. “I can’t believe you can do that!” Rohl gushed.

  Brendan looked back at the pair of niseags who were beginning to untangle from each other. “It’s not over yet.”

  …

  Camulos watched Brendan tossing the niseags around with surprised appreciation. Camulos had seen many Protectors, magicks, and gods over his years of existence, but he had never seen anyone quite like Brendan. He admired how calm the boy was staying, even though he was facing two of the most fearsome creatures ever to come out of Otherworld. Maybe it was ignorance or the foolishness of youth, but it was an admirable characteristic to the god of war. He was looking forward to challenging the Protector at some point in the future. Hopefully Elathan would honor him with that opportunity.

  “Come on, Camulos. It’s obvious that the niseags won’t distract him for long. We need to get to Bibe’s and take the sword,” urged Tannus.

  “The niseags will not be defeated so easily, Tannus. We have some time.”

  Tannus led the god of war away from the scene of the battle and followed his senses, confident that they were headed in the right direction.

  …

  The Magogs stood in a circle around the village center, surrounding Lizzie and D’Quall chanting to display their bloodlust. Frank and Garnash sat idle among the giants, chained and feeling rather downtrodden since neither could do anything about the situation.

  D’Quall marched around on the outskirts of the circle yelling and thrusting his arms high into the air. His clan responded with cheers as their leader trotted before them.

  “I’m going to crush you, Daughter O’Neal. I’m going to show that the Descendants of Magog will no longer live in fear of the Protector bloodline. Your death will mean a new mindset for my people, and it will provide vindication for me,” D’Quall said.

  Lizzie stood in the center of the circle of giants with her eyes closed, blocking out D’Quall and the chanting and cheers of the Magogs. This was a challenge of the mind and the body. When she had last faced off with D’Quall, she hadn’t had time to think about her own safety because she ran into the battle and fought in the moment. This was different. This battle was being brought to her in unfavorable conditions against an opponent who had already confiscated her purple vial of rainbow magic and shoved her into a nearly impossible situation for a human. She opened her eyes and saw that everyone’s gaze was on her. She looked towards Frank and saw the anguish on his face.