Realms of the Otherworld Box Set

by Jana LaPelle

  ​“Thendar, thank you, you will always have an ally in those of us here. We are indebted to you.” I say, before passing through the door with Ashlinn tucked closely to my side. I turn back to the surly dwarf, “Just call on either Ashlinn or myself and we will hear you and come to your aide.”

  ​Thendar bows deeply and says, “Thank ye both.”

  ​Gibbon takes the lead as our rag tag group continues further into the depths of the mountain, and we follow him down a darkened passageway. He stops to wait for Thendar to lock the door behind us. He closes the massive door with a loud echoing boom and engages a complicated locking system that explains all the sounds we heard as the lock was disengaging. On this side, we are able to witness the clock-like mechanism as the lock reengages. I’m astounded by how utterly complex the mechanism is as the final piece locks into place with a resounding thunk, that echoes down the passageway. Thendar quickly ambles toward the front of our group pushing anyone in his way aside by his girth alone. Honestly, he is about as round as he is tall, and we watch him amble down the passageway before us.

  ​Ashlinn is quick to get down to business as she acknowledges Thendar’s grudging acquiescence. She smiles down at the grumpy old dwarf and says, “Thank you Thendar. You have my utmost gratitude. You will always be welcome in our home. Always. Now…” turning to Gibbon she asks, “Gibbon, do you know if Cú Chulainn has been ushered into these same secret passages? Or do you think that he was ushered into the maze?” Ashlinn inquires.

  ​“More than likely he will be taken to the passages, me Lady. Ye see, as we have already discussed, we be a divided lot. There be some of us that side with The Morrígan and others like ourselves that side with ye and the rest of the light fae. It’s… complicated and political at best, but the deranged goddess has made threats as well as promises to our king. He… well, he be a good leader. Strong. Courageous. We are but a simple clan and we be at the mercy of the gods and goddesses of the realm. The Morrígan, she uses and twists circumstances for those in Faerie that are weak in numbers to bend them to her will. Those that be unsure of where to cast their allegiance. She be wicked foul, and I see right through her beautiful façade.” He continues as we traverse the darken tunnels. “This way everyone,” Gibbon directs us down a tunnel that I would not have seen if not for him. Looking back, I can see the confusion on everyone’s faces. I can only assume that we have entered the secret tunnels and traveled through a glamour at the entrance.

  ​“Gibbon, thank you for providing us safe passage.”

  ​“Ye be welcome, me lady. Now, everyone, hurry. We need to get to Gorias before mornin’ light. Or else we all be doomed.”

  ​With that, he races away down a dark passage and we are quick to follow. Our crew doesn’t complain as the hours tick by. We are all tired and refuse to allow exhaustion to kick in. We follow the dwarfs down one passage after another. All the darkened carved passages look the same and I have no idea as to what time it is or when we will stumble upon the ruins. The passages are mostly quiet but every so often we hear clanking sounds that seem to echo through the interior of the mountain. There are times where we are led down open and winding staircases. Across stone bridges in the darken tunnels that cross underground rushing rivers and back up staircases again. If this isn’t the maze, I would hate to see what their maze really looks like. Our group is quiet as we continue to follow our guides, the lot of us hopelessly lost in the innards of the Oighreata Mountains.

  ​Ashlinn has been working through a perplexing issue and I smile at her curiosity when she finally decides to speak up, “Thendar… Gibbon? What do you do here within this mountain? I mean? What is the draw for you? Why live here when you can live above ground?”

  ​Thendar stops and looks at Ash incredulously before saying, “Why, me Lady, it’s the ore we are drawn to. The gemstones that we uncover, it’s all very intoxicating. Quite like an addiction. We can’t help ourselves.” He pauses, his bushy eyebrows draw together before continuing, “We were in awe of what The Morrígan commissioned us to do. It gave us access to a very rare obsidian rock that we mined while carving out her fortress, but in the end the gain did not outweigh the sacrifice that we made for that commissioned work. Now she holds us all hostage to bend us to her will. Gibbon is right. She be wicked, and she must be stopped. We must sway our king to the right side of things. Drendenyarl must stand with ye, he must be made to understand that even the great and mighty Dagda aligns with ye, as well as Lugh.” The dwarf swallows thickly before continuing, “She must be stopped at all cost.” He nods in grim determination before turning back to the task at hand.

  ​Holding Ashlinn’s hand in my own we continue to follow our dwarven guides, our hands swing as she ponders what Thendar has imparted before asking, “Thendar, we welcome any and all that choose to stand with us, you know that, but back to the ore, just what do you do with the ore that you mine down here in the bowels of the earth?”

  ​The spry little dwarf puffs out his chest and announces, “We are master craftsmen and craftswomen… But mostly men. We fashion swords, blades of any kind, shields, chainmail and the like,” he then grins back up at Ash, his eyes twinkling, before imparting, “with majic…” He grins broadly at her, waiting for her reaction.

  ​Ashlinn doesn’t disappoint, her face fills with wonder as her eyes grow wide. I have to stifle my grin at her utterly adorable reaction. She leans down and asks in a hushed tone, “What kind of majic? Is it protective majic? Elemental majic? Are the dwarf’s blades and what not highly sought after?”

  ​Thendar grins back at Ash and Gibbon just rolls his eyes as the two continue. Thendar’s reply is simple, “But of course, me Lady. It would be me greatest honor to have me brethren outfit ye and yer kindred with battle gear, but me thinks that we may be too late in that endeavor.” He frowns as we follow Gibbon down a passage that continues to expand in size.

  ​Gibbon stops as we step out into a mountainous cavern and gestures to the ancient ruins in front of us, “Me Lady and Lord, here be what ye be lookin’ for. Me think it best if ye continue on without us.”

  ​“Wait! How will we get out of here?” Ashlinn asks in alarm.

  ​“If either party be successful in obtaining the Spear of Lugh from Cailleach’s grasp, legend has it that Gorias will be bathed in the light of the sun once more. You will be able to trace out of here if that happens. The wards above will no longer be effective.” Thendar announces, then turns to leave with Gibbon.

  ​Reaching out, I clamp my hand down on Thendar’s shoulder to keep him from leaving us here. He glares up at me and I pull my hand back and say, “Please forgive me, Thendar. I mean no disrespect. We are grateful for your safe passage to this sacred place. Would you and Gibbon consider waiting for us here? We shouldn’t be long. Just in case the legend does not ring true. If what you said comes to pass, please be on your way, but if it does not, we will be needing a way out of this mountain. We are hopelessly lost and completely turned around. We’re tired, we’ve been walking all night. Please consider, if not for me then for our females.”

  ​Thendar looks to Ashlinn and Jasmine, who has released her wings, and he bows deeply, looking a bit chagrined, “Me apologies, me ladies. We would never…” He trails off, looking about the mountainous cavern that houses the ruins of Gorias, before continuing, “Gibbon, we be accompanying the wee lasses, to see to their safety. Evidently, their male companions have need of dwarven warriors at their sides.” He puffs out his chest and ambles forward with purpose.

  ​Gibbon just looks at me and rolls his eyes, “Now, ye’ve done it me friend. Ye’ve put notions of grandeur in his wee little noggin. I’ll not be responsible for his actions now.” He moves forward to follow Thendar, and Ashlinn and Jasmine just smirk.

  ​“What’s with the smirk?”

  ​“They are utterly adorable, don’t you think?” Ashlinn asks.

  ​“Uh, no.” I can’t help but laugh, before continuing, “Come on everyone, let’s kee
p up. They may be short, but their fast.” I pull Ash to me and deliver a quick kiss and whisper, “They are not adorable, they are dwarfs.”

  ​“Jealous?” She asks incredulously, before laughing a deep throated laugh, “You, my handsome Elf-Man, are my forever, and don’t you forget it. They are seriously cute though.”

  ​Taking her hand in my own, we follow the others to the ruins, looking her way, I ask, “What do you see in them?”

  ​She squeezes my hand and looks after the two miniature persons in the lead of our group before saying, “Spirit, gumption… I don’t know how to explain it, but they have... this spark… it’s uniquely dwarven. It calls to me. I don’t know why. Come on Elf-Man. We’re falling behind.”

  ​About that time, on the opposite end of the cavern we hear a commotion as another group enters there. For the first time we are getting a good look at the demigod who The Morrígan raised from the dead, and he is massive. He moves like a machine, he and his companions, and I realize that we are too far from the ruins. Cú Chulainn will get to the Spear of Lugh first. Squeezing Ashlinn’s hand, I tug, and we begin to run, no plan in place. We’re going to have to wing it.

  Chapter 28

  (Ashlinn)

  ​No, no, no!!! How did this happen? Lainn looks our way over the distance between us, and then smiles a wicked smile. Boy, he’s definitely been hanging out with the wicked witch of the west. That smile is almost a perfect replica of hers. His long muscular stride eats up the distance between him and the ruins. Once he enters the city structures he and his companions are out of sight. We race to the ruins in a hopeless endeavor to beat Lainn and his company to the tower. I wish that we had more time to admire this fallen city as we dash through the long-ago abandoned streets, our foot falls echoing through the alley ways, once beautiful and majestic. I can see the beauty that has been hidden away for centuries as we race to the tower that looks to be placed in the center of the ancient city. That is where we will find Cailleach’s final resting place along with the Spear of Lugh. That’s what Gibbon said.

  ​I look toward Alaric and he’s as desperate as I am. I can see it in his face, the grim determination. We are going to lose the Spear of Lugh, Lainn’s advantage is too great. It takes us time to navigate the city ruins, and we slow our pace as we traverse this sad place, once full of life. The tower looms before us. With one last look at our companions we gingerly enter the spire and climb the flagstone steps that wind upwards to the open pinnacle of the tower.

  ​Our group enters the frozen shrine to see Cú Chulainn reaching for the Spear of Lugh. It’s not what I was expecting. The spear stands tall and proud before him, it’s spearhead is much more broad than I thought it would be. It resembles the blade of a short sword. The outer edges gleam silver and encase the golden center of the blade. Embedded within the metal center of the weapon are three amethyst colored stones that pulse with power, and the blade appears to be bathed in a swirling violet-purple light. Without thinking in my desperation, I choke out, “Wait!” My voice rings out to echo around the open shrine.

  ​He looks up at me, stopping his forward momentum for just a moment, his eyes blazing in triumph, before turning back to his prize. He tries to wrench it free with a mighty yank, but it holds firm. Once more he tries again and roars, “For my Queen!” Again, the spear holds true in its icy base, and hope blossoms in my chest.

  ​I pull free of Alaric’s hold and walk forward to address the demigod before me, and ask, “You do this for Morríganna, but what of your kindred, Lainn? What would you do for her?”

  ​He is a massive male, all hard lines and muscles. His skin is bronze, his hair is long and wild, it’s an auburn red with golden highlights, and tipped with a white blond, an odd combination. He freezes, turning his penetrating green eyes to me before saying, “Morríganna warned me about you. She said to not believe a word you uttered, that you have everyone fooled, and that you will be the downfall of our world. She said that she brought me back from The Underworld to protect The Otherworld from you and the army that you are amassing, that only the two of us together could protect the fae from your devious plans for the realms of the living. But now you speak of the dead, you speak of my long lost Fandra. Why is that? What of my kindred, what does she have to do with any of this? Why would you bring her into the matters of this realm? She is lost to me. I died for her, because living in this world was just too damn hard after she was killed, but even in death we were separated. We will forever more be separated. She roams the halls of The Overworld as we speak, all the while I was doomed to reside in The Underworld. I know my fate now, but Morríganna has given me a new beginning. A new purpose.”

  ​Shrugging off his accusations, I press my point, “Morríganna is deceiving you, Cú Chulainn. She is using you. She is counting on the fact that you feel indebted to her for giving you your life back. She’s twisting the facts and bending you to her will. It’s true, Fandra is not here, her soul was pure, and she ascended to The Overworld and Morríganna is delighting in the fact that she is out of the way. I simply ask, what would you do to reunite with your kindred?”

  ​He cocks his head, looking my way and says, “I would do anything, but it can’t be done! Can it?”

  ​Seizing the moment, I counter, “I believe that you can change your destiny, Cú Chulainn.”

  ​Lugh walks forward, interrupting my momentum in his haste to address his son, “Lainn, my son, I have missed you so. I have mourned your loss… and as I stand here and look upon you, I thank our creator that you are here, but you should know, that in this, we walk a separate path. As you know now, The Morrígan leads The Realms to war. You are walking down a destructive path. It’s not your fault, but you need to re-evaluate what you are doing and why you feel compelled to follow Morríganna. It is not Ashlinn that poses a threat to this world but The Morrígan and her sisters.”

  ​Cú Chulainn stills, and says, “No, Father, you are wrong. She is my liege. She raised me from The Underworld. I owe her my life. She saved me from the depths of hell, from my eternal torture. She loves me. Why else would she bring me back?”

  ​I step forward and ask quietly, “Has she taken the place of your kindred in your heart? Does she fill that void? Has she truly saved you from your eternal torture?”

  ​“No! But…!” Cú Chulainn falters and then clasps his chest as if the pain within is about to bring him to his knees. He stumbles forward placing a hand on the frozen entombment of Cailleach, before pausing to raise a flask to his lips.

  ​“No! Don’t drink!” I frantically demand.

  ​Lugh follows my lead, “Son, please don’t drink from that flask. She has poisoned you. You drink of her cursed elixir. She has cursed you to do her bidding. To follow her direction without question.”

  ​I chime in, “You aren’t the first to drink of her elixir. It makes you numb to your actions. It urges you to follow her will.”

  ​The foot soldiers on either side of Cú Chulainn begin to nervously shift from side to side as we continue. The one to his right leans into his side, cajoling, “Lainn, we need to go. Get the spear and let’s leave this place. Now. Our mistress awaits.”

  ​He turns to glare at the Fomorian beside him, and grits out between clenched teeth, his deep voice ricochets about the cavern, “I. Have. Tried. It won’t budge.”

  ​The soldiers around him descend the dais on which the goddess lies in repose. She is incased in ice, crystalized and shining. From where I stand, I can’t see what she looks like, but she appears to be perfectly preserved and serene. The soldiers on the other hand have become menacing as they take up arms to come between us and their demigod commander. All of us pull a weapon in reaction to their defensive stance. I look over to Alaric and through our link I say, “I think we are losing him. The curse… it has him in her thrall.”

  ​Nodding he steps forward, brandishing the Sword of Light, its beautiful green fire licking up and down the blade. All eyes turn to Alaric, he gains everyone’s
attention when he announces, “Cú Chulainn, think about who you align with, Luc knew something on The Morrígan. Whatever it was, he was certain that you would despise her if you knew the truth. He said as much, not three days after she performed the ritual to bring you back. She definitely has something to hide by her reaction to their conversation.”

  ​“Luc?!” Cú Chulainn roars, “Lucifer has had centuries to share whatever it is that he thinks he knows. He took delight in torturing me in The Underworld. He knows nothing.”

  ​“Really?”

  ​Everyone startles when we hear Luc’s deep baritone voice entering the chamber from behind us. We part to allow him through, so he can address Cú Chulainn.

  ​“You! What are you doing here?!” Lainn demands. “You have no place here in Faerie. If you are here for me, then you should know that I won’t go back! Not ever.” With that declaration, he drinks deeply of the wineskin in his hands, and I can see the elixir take hold. His body visibly relaxes, as he ties the skin to his waist before turning back to Luc.

  ​Luc strides forward, his torso is bare, sporting all his many tribal Celtic tattoos, and he announces for all to hear, “I’m not here to take you back, Lainn. I’m here to deliver the truth to you. A truth that is long past your discovering. You deserve to know what happened all those years ago. You need to know that The Morrígan is the reason why your precious Fandra met such an untimely demise.”