She quickly flew to Dughall with her prize. Macha’s wings were a shimmery luminescent orange. “Here,” she said as she flung it at Dughall.
“What is this?” he asked.
“Open it and see. That is, if a brute like you can read.”
“Of course I can read, you impudent insect,” he snarled.
As Dughall opened the book, his eyes grew wide. He could not believe what he had. All that I hoped for and more. This is a written guide for the secrets of the Sacred Well. In my hands I hold immortality.
“Macha, you endearing little gnat,” he beamed. “I shall spare your life after all.”
“How kind of you,” Macha retorted.
“What does it say?” asked Cian.
“What does it say? It holds the key to the whole thing, old man. According to this, it was not the torc at all. That sly minx. Putting all off the trail.” Dughall’s eyes flitted frantically over the pages.
“What is the key, then?” asked Cian.
“A chalice,” replied Dughall.
“A chalice?” asked Cian.
“Yes, old fool. Is there an echo in here? A chalice. A cup,” replied Dughall.
“That does not sound right. It may be a trick,” said Cian. “I do not recall ever hearing about a sacred chalice in all my Druid days. The torc yes, but not a chalice.”
“It was a well kept secret then, was it not?” replied Dughall. “These deceitful women hid their secrets even from you Druids.” Dughall laughed.
“But if the key to the portal is a chalice, why did she hide the torc?” asked Cian.
“Who knows, maybe it has some magick to it too. But I am not interested in charming little spells. I will find this chalice. I will find it and when I do, I will open the portal once again and I will have all that I desire.”
* * *
“A chalice? What is he talking about?” asked Jake.
“Yeah, you never mentioned a chalice, whatever that is,” said Fanny.
“A chalice is a large cup. But, ah my dear mistress, how clever she was,” Hindergog chortled. “She made this up, dear ones. There was no chalice.”
“Oh my god, she lied,” I said.
“Yes, she lied and what a beautiful lie it was. Dughall began a quest to find this ‘sacred’ cup, a quest that would last a lifetime,” said Hindergog.
“Hmm, chalice. It wasn’t the same chalice as they tried to find in the Crusades, was it?” asked Jake.
“That, young lad, I do not know. I wish I could answer all of your questions younglings, but sadly I cannot. Here is where my story comes to a close. All that I saw I could see because I am the keeper of the story of the High Priestess. When Saorla died and the torc was hidden, my ability to see into your world faded.”
“But I have so many questions, Hindergog. Like how is it that this dude from over a thousand years ago is a threat to us now? And where is the torc? And when I find it, where is the portal and how do I get in?”
“I do not know the answers to all of your questions, Miss Emily. I wish that I did.” Hindergog’s voice sounded sad.
“But you must have some idea,” said Jake. “Any clues you can give us.”
“‘Us’,” I said.
“Look, we’ve got to find this guy,” said Jake.
“I don’t really see why ‘we’ need to do anything,” I said. “Look Hindergog, this is a gripping story and all. But I’m just a fourteen-year-old girl who’s flunking at least three subjects. I’m not really up for a quest to save the world and all,” I said.
“Miss Emily, you may not have a choice,” replied Hindergog.
“What do you mean, munchkin?” asked Fanny.
“Dughall may be a killer, devoid of human emotion, but he is exceptionally smart. He may track you down, Miss Emily. He will not take a chance that Saorla’s descendant will outwit him this time,” Hindergog said.
“What do you mean, ‘Saorla’s descendant?’” I asked.
“Yeah, you never did explain exactly how Emily relates to all this,” said Jake.
“You are Saorla’s descendant, of course. You have Priestess blood running through your veins,” answered Hindergog.
“But Saorla died,” I said.
“Jeez Em, weren’t you paying attention?” asked Fanny. “Sorcha. She’s your ancestor. She lived.”
We were all quiet for a moment as we reflected on all that Hindergog had said. Of course. Sorcha was the daughter of Saorla and Cathaír.
I hurled questions at Hindergog. “Tell us more about Sorcha. What happened to Cathaír when he left the Grove? Did he go to Sorcha? Did he hide the torc?”
“I know youngling, so many questions. But I do not have time for additional tales. I must spend my last seconds telling you valuable information,” said Hindergog.
“Where did Cathaír hide the torc?” asked Jake.
Hindergog was beginning to fade.
“Hurry,” I said. “Before you disappear, you’ve got to tell us where the torc is and what to do with it when we find it.”
“I do not know where the torc is my young mistress,” said Hindergog.
“What? You don’t know where it is? You start us on a wild goose chase, and you don’t even know where to look for the stupid thing,” I snapped. I was so mad at that little guy, if he were in the flesh, I probably would have tried to strangle him.
“Please, calm yourself Miss Emily. I do not know exactly where the torc is, but I do have some clues.”
“Great, a madman is trying to screw up the whole world, and we have to go on a scavenger hunt,” said Fanny.
“The torc’s residual energy from Saorla allowed me to ‘see’ what it saw for a brief time after Saorla’s body died. Cathaír went north and east for three days, past the Slieve na Caillaigh hills and Loughcrew. He thought to bury the torc in a place no Christian man would search. He buried it underground at a Christian church on the sacred land of fair Érie. I saw a cross of the kind that came to be known as a ‘Celtic cross’,” said Hindergog.
Hindergog was but a wisp, hardly there at all.
“Hindergog, wait. You can’t fade yet. Tell us where to find Dughall and how to defeat him. And what do I do with the torc and where is the Sacred Grove and how do I … ”
“Fair Emily, in my last seconds, let me tell you more about the dark one. His soul has spent over a thousand years in the land of Umbra Nihili, waiting for this opportunity.”
“Umbra-what?” asked Fanny.
“Opportunity for what?” asked Jake.
“To achieve finally all that he desires. He wants to come to the Netherworld and thinks he can achieve his goals here,” said Hindergog.
“But how will he do this?” asked Fanny.
“He’ll be coming after the torc too, won’t he?” I asked.
“He spent his life searching for the chalice in the belief that it was the key to opening the portal to the Netherworld. He has given up on the ancient key to open the portal. His eyes are set on a modern key.”
“Modern key? What is this key?” asked Jake.
“There is a machine – under the ground of the old world. Very large. Trying to turn mysteries and magick into formulas … ”
Hindergog was breaking up and fading in and out. We still needed him desperately. He was speaking in riddles. I needed straight answers.
“What machine, Hindergog? Where is he?” I pled.
“Follow your heart, Miss Emily. Remember, you have the blood of my beloved mistress in your veins. You will know what to do. Listen to the hawk … ”
That was the last thing he said. He disappeared just as quickly as he had come. We stared stupefied at the place where the image of Hindergog had been. We sat quietly, alone with only riddles to keep us company.
15. PUZZLES
I was never good at puzzles. It infuriated me that the freaky little creature left me with so many unanswered questions.
“What the … ” said Fanny.
“I know,” I said. “‘List
en to the hawk’. What the heck is that supposed to mean?”
“That little nub left us without a clue as to where to go or what to do,” grumped Fanny.
“Actually, he gave us quite a few clues,” said Jake.
Fanny and I both glared hard at him. Fanny looked like she was going to throttle him.
“Okay, tell us where we’re going,” said Fanny.
“Well, obviously we have to go to Ireland. ‘Fair Érie’,” retorted Jake.
“Yeah, sure, we’ll just whisk ourselves off to Ireland. Assuming we somehow find a way to get there, it’s not like Ireland is a tiny country. We have no idea where to go or what to do once there,” I said.
“I know all that, but Hindergog did leave us some clues. We can figure this out. He told us to go past the Slieve na something-or-other hills. And he said a Christian church. It has to be one that was there during Saorla’s time, so one that goes back at least a thousand years. There can only be so many of those, right?” Jake asked.
I started to perk up a little bit. Thank goodness for Jake. He’s always so clear headed like that.
“So we could come up with a list anyway, huh, to get started,” Fanny said.
“Yeah, and it may take a few days,” said Jake.
“Or a few months!” I groaned.
“But traveling by bus or train, it won’t be too bad. And we’re sure to find other clues if we keep our eyes open,” said Jake.
“Okay, but first things first. I’ve got to get past Muriel, and we have to find a way out of here without money, or plane tickets. And the passport situation,” I said.
“Well we’ve got money covered,” offered Fanny.
“How’s that?” asked Jake. “You know I’m broke.”
Jake was right. His dad had cut out on his mom, Jake and his two younger siblings. His mom worked extra shifts at her nursing job to make ends meet while Jake helped take care of his sibs, but it was really tight for his family.
“Two words. Bat Mitzvah,” said Fanny.
“You still have all your Bat Mit cash?” I asked.
“Yep, about eight large, rolled up and hidden in my secret money place,” said Fanny.
“You have eight thousand dollars just hanging around your house?” asked Jake.
“Yeah, well I don’t trust my money in banks.”
“I can’t believe your mom and dad let you keep your money at your house,” I said.
“They don’t know.”
“Okay, well eight grand should be enough to at least get us to Ireland. What about passports?” I asked.
“Fanny, you’ve been to Europe before. You still have your passport?” asked Jake.
“Yeah, my picture was from when I was like ten, but it’s still good,” she answered.
“And Emily, your dad got you a passport to go to Canada last year, didn’t he?” asked Jake.
“That’s right. I almost forgot because we ended up not going,” I said. Zombie Man couldn’t tear himself away from work long enough to go on a vacation with his only daughter.
“But Jake, what about you? You’ve never been … well, never been out of the country,” said Fan.
“Yeah, that’s true. But Fanny, your whole family went on that trip, right?” asked Jake.
“Yeah.”
“Well, with hair dye and some luck, I should be able to use your brother Rob’s passport, see? Problem solved,” Jake answered. He was practically beaming.
“Holy crap, Jake,” said Fanny. “Squeaky clean little Jake. I can’t believe you’re going to do that. Faking a passport is like a federal crime you know. Probably a felony even.”
“Yeah, I know. But desperate times call for desperate measure. Besides, Emily needs us,” he said.
“Okay,” I said. “We’ll go in, grab my passport and some clothes and junk. I’ll grab my small stash of cash and then we have to get past Muriel.”
We all crawled back across that tree branch and shimmied into my room through the window. It was getting dark, and we still had to get past Muriel. I rummaged through my junk in a small box under my bed for my passport.
“Man, I look like such a goob,” I said. My hair had been particularly frizzy that day and it was a messy halo of orangey-red around my face. I had a big, red zit on the end of my nose and a sheen of grease on my forehead.
Jake looked over my shoulder at the picture. “Nah, you don’t,” he said.
“Who cares now anyway,” said Fan. “Just grab some junk and let’s get going.”
I stuffed the passport into my back pocket, grabbed my backpack and jammed it full of clothes. I was just about to turn out of there and face Muriel when Jake said, “Hey, you should write a note to your dad.”
“Are you crazy? I can’t let him know what we’re doing,” I said.
“Em, he’ll be worried about you. You don’t have to tell him where we’re going or what we’re doing, but just let him know you’re not running away,” Jake replied.
The thing was, I couldn’t say I wasn’t running away because maybe I was. That’s exactly what I thought I was doing. I Finally have a chance to escape. I may have been a nerd, a loser, and a smart-mouth. I may have been failing math. But I wasn’t a liar and I couldn’t bring myself to lie to my dad, even if he was a zombie.
Jake was right though. Just in case my dad got pulled out of zombie mode long enough to notice that I was missing, I needed to tell him something. I sat down and wrote a quick note. Even though my dad was a zombie, I still loved him. That love forced a tear to my eye as I wrote my note. This may be the last thing I ever get to say to him.
As I finished the letter, I looked up and saw the picture of my dad, my mom and me together. In the picture, we were at the lake, laughing and having a good time. It was probably taken a few months before she died. I quickly grabbed it and threw it into my bag. I turned the note over and finished it on the backside.
“Let’s go,” I said. I turned and left my room, maybe forever.
16. ESCAPE FROM MURIEL THE MEAN
We tiptoed into the hall. The house was still and quiet. Maybe Muriel is asleep in her room watching stupid history channel shows? We tiptoed down the stairs, trying our best not to make the stairs squeak or groan. We might get out of here without a fight.
Yeah right. It’s never that easy, is it?
Just as I made it to the door, I heard Muriel’s high-pitched screech. “Where do you think you’re going? And how did these fools get in?”
I didn’t want my voice to tremble or squeak, but it did both as I said, “I’m leaving.”
Muriel laughed. “I don’t think so. You idiots get home before I call your parents and tell them that you’re stealing from me. And you,” she said pointing her bony finger at me. “You get back to your room now.”
Fanny and Jake stood frozen like two people blasted with a comic book freeze gun. They looked back and forth between Muriel and me. Her eyes were wild with anger and she looked determined.
But I felt something welling up inside me. It was like all the times she hit me, deprived me of food, or put me down flashed before my eyes. It was like at that moment, every cell in me hated her. I turned and faced her full on.
“I’m leaving. If you try to stop me, you’ll be sorry.”
“You little brat.” Muriel lunged toward me.
I’m not sure exactly what happened next. All I know is that I thought about getting Muriel away from me, and the next thing I knew, she flew backward through the air like some giant had picked her up and thrown her. She landed with a thud on the wood floor in the hallway looking stunned and confused.
In a flash, the stunned look became anger like I’d never seen before. I think she was determined to strangle me. Like a half-crazed little bull, she charged at me again.
In that moment, I saw Muriel as she truly was. I’d never realized before how much taller than her I was. It’s like the picture I had of Muriel was from when I was seven, not fourteen. I towered over her. As I looked at her then, sh
e seemed so small and almost comical.
I felt a calm come over me as my fear dissipated. I focused my thought on throwing Muriel far and hard. Again, without anyone touching her, it was like an invisible force picked her up and threw her against the wall. She hit hard, and as she did, a large picture framed in glass fell down on top of her head. She was knocked out.
Jake and Fanny were still like statues and their mouths hung open. None of us moved.
“How? How did you do that?” Fanny asked.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “But it felt really good.”
Jake peered at me through his thick glasses. “You’re smiling,” he said.
I was smiling. I felt happy. It had been a long time since I’d felt happy. Maybe I do have Saorla’s blood coursing through my veins.
“Let’s go before that wretched beast wakes up,” I said.
We got out of there and ran as fast as we could to Fanny’s house. We knew we didn’t have much time. Muriel would be unconscious only so long, and when she came to, she’d search for me. We knew she’d start with Jake and Fanny’s houses.
We snuck into Fan’s house and got her things. Her parents were out to dinner and her brothers were at the football game so it was easy. Money, passport, clothes, cell phone and MP3 player (‘I don’t travel anywhere without my tunes’ Fan had said). We used her mom’s hair dye (Nice-n-Easy #2) to dye Jake’s hair black. He looked freaky but without his glasses on he almost looked a little bit like Fanny’s brother Rob.
Jake took one look in the mirror after Fanny finished his hair and said, “We’re doomed.”
“Chillax nub, it’ll be fine. Just let me do the talking,” Fanny said.
She snuck into her oldest brother’s room and grabbed his passport. Fanny wrote a quick note to her parents and we left.
It was off to Jake’s house to do the same. We didn’t bother to sneak in and out. His mom was working, and his brother and sister didn’t pay him much attention. He left a note for his mom in his room though just like we had done.
We were on our way. We took the train to the airport. Along the way, I had other opportunities to work on my skills. I tried a sort of ‘Jedi mind trick’ on the guy at the ticket counter (didn’t work), but mainly it was Jake’s fast thinking and Fanny’s fast talking that got us on that plane. Somehow Fanny was able to convince the folks at British Airways that Jake was her 18-year-old brother Rob. How she got them to believe that a boy who stood only five feet tall with a terrible hair-dye job was her adult brother I’ll never know.
The Akasha Chronicles Trilogy Boxed Set: The Complete Emily Adams Series Page 7
