The Screaming Stone: The Otherworld Series Book 2

by N. K. Vir

  Every head nodded vehemently in agreement and Failinis bark sealing the agreement. No one was willing to risk Annie approaching the stone unprotected, not even a puppy.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Shadow of Tara

  The trip to Tara, in a car, driven on the wrong side of the road by a man who was not accustom to the driving conditions in Ireland, was worse than the Trolley ride he had endured in Salem. At least Stinky Pete had not been present; he would have definitely lost his breakfast and soiled the tiny confines of the car he had been stuffed into. Failinis seemed to have enjoyed the ride. The unruly pup had hung his head out the window that Annie had opened to help alleviate his motion sickness. Duncan looked down at the ginger colored mutt. His tongue hung out of his mouth and his disheveled hair was sticking out at impossibly odd angles. Annie bent down and attempted to straighten his motely appearance. Just when she had his fur brushed back, and his face arranged so it did not appear crooked, Failinis decided he needed a good grass bath. The pup rolled around in the short sheep shorn grass before burying his face into the ground to scratch and rearrange his doggie mustache until he was satisfied with the results. When he looked up at them he had, somehow, managed to mess up his fur more than the windblown car ride had.

  “You’re a mess,” Annie muttered down at him as Failinis thumped his tail energetically on the ground. “And slightly disturbing to look at,” she added cocking her head to the side as she studied him further. Failinis rewarded her with an eager and happy yip. He seemed to like being referred to as ‘disturbing’.

  “For some reason I have a feeling he actually took that as a complement,” Griffin said laughing.

  Duncan frowned down at the dog which sat disheveled yet enthusiastically at his feet. He was slightly off-putting with his wild hair and a tongue that seemed to constantly hang out of his mouth. He was still a pup but if the size of his paws was any indication he would eventually be a terrifyingly gigantic dog. Maybe he was preparing for when he grew up like a child who dresses up in their mother’s clothes; or maybe he was just a dog with a goofy personality. Duncan was inclined to believe the later.

  He shook his head and tried to focus on something besides the newest member of their group. Now that the “motion sickness” was beginning to wear off he was feeling the strangest pull in his gut. At first he wanted to link it with the car ride but now that the nausea had abated the pulling sensation was growing stronger. He was unsure whether it was his battle senses waking up and warning him or if this was something deeper he needed to investigate. He squinted up at the sun still riding high in the clear blue sky and made a quick decision.

  “Where is the church?” he asked Knackers who had dressed himself in his ‘human’ looking attire. He wore another strangely printed flower shirt and long pants that had more pockets than were necessary, cautiously he glanced down at his feet and was relieved to see they were properly covered.

  “Combat boots,” Knackers informed him when he caught Duncan staring. “Griffin told me ‘bout ‘em, said it was what fighting men today wore when goin’ in ta battle.” Duncan raised a humorous brow at him but remained silent. “What? They’re verra comfortable,” Knackers said defensively as he quickly looked away.

  Duncan caught Annie mouthing the words ‘Thank you’ to Griffin. Apparently he was not the only one who never, ever wanted to see Knackers’ ugly toes again. He held back a snicker as a new feeling; and an even stronger pull began to yank at him. His eyes were drawn towards the direction that his feet yearned to go.

  “Ta answer yer question,” Knackers grumbled petulantly. “It’s there,” he said pointing to their left.

  Duncan reluctantly pulled his gaze away from where he wanted and needed to go and concentrated on the spot Knackers was pointing at. Above a small circle of trees he could just make out the steeple of a stone building. The church was covered by large trees as if it were hiding using nature as a shield against something that remained unseen.

  “Tara was, is an ancient Neolithic site. It was the base of religion for the ancient Celts. The wandering missionaries would have used the site to build a religious shrine of their own,” Griffin said seemingly reading his mind. “It would have made assimilation into a new religion easier. But it appears that nature has blocked the view of the ancient structure. It’s almost as if it is offended.”

  “We’ve plenty of light left,” Duncan informed the group. “Best to see where everything is so we know where we can set up our defenses.” All heads nodded in agreement as they too seemed wrapped up in the spell and power Tara was exuding.

  “The sight closes in a couple of hours,” Annie said informing the group.

  “Perfect,” Duncan replied, his eyes still fixed on a spot in the distance that was calling to him. “We can meet back here in an hour.”

  “No, it might be better if we all met up at the church in an hour. That way we can slip in just before closing and hopefully disappear without anyone knowing where we are,” Kat said offering up a new plan.

  “Kat!” Annie exclaimed. “I had no idea you were so-“

  “Devious,” Autie finished with a smile and a wink.

  “Robert is gonna love ye,” Knackers informed Autie who ignored him.

  “What?” Kat questioned blinking her large eyes in an attempt to look innocent. Griffin and Annie continued to stare at her obviously shocked that Kat had come up with such a good idea. “What can I say,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “I wasn’t always so innocent and cute. In my day I snuck into a few places where trespassing was frowned upon.”

  “We will discuss your breaking and entering transgressions latter Kat,” Griffin grumbled obviously upset with finding out that his girlfriend was a thief. “Come on Kat burglar, you, me and Fiona will go this way,” he said pulling her hand.

  Fiona quickly followed; her small legs all but running to keep up with Griffin as he pulled a still arguing Kat behind him. “I never stole anything Griff,” she protested as she hurried alongside him.

  “I had no idea Kat had such a deviant history,” Annie said sucking her bottom lip into her mouth to keep from laughing.

  “What be a cat-burglar?” Autie innocently asked; which caused Annie to lose her battle with the laughter she had been trying to contain.

  “Later,” Duncan grumbled down at him. Although he too was curious about what a cat-burglar was. The pulling sensation was beginning to become painful as it thought it was being ignored. “Annie and I will go that way,” he said pointing in the direction his body so desperately wanted to go. “You three,” he said indicating Autie, Knackers and Rian. “Keep a close eye on that church and find us a way out that is different than the way in. Understood?”

  When none of them raised any objections he took a hold of Annie’s hand and pulled her; as Griffin had but moments before done to Kat in the direction he needed to go with Failinis following closely behind.

  “Where are we running to?” Annie asked breathlessly once they were out of earshot of anyone else.

  At first he didn’t answer. He had no answer. He was following his feet, following the pulling sensation that was beginning to sing welcomingly deep inside him. There was something here that was so familiar. The land had changed, the sky had shifted, trees had grown and had been removed, but something about here was familiar and inviting like…home. He stopped abruptly. His conscious mind overriding his feet and calling for an abrupt halt as that word reminded him all too much of his nightly reoccurring dreams. Annie who had been running to keep up with him bumped into his back. The moment he felt her body brush against him he was spinning to face her. Her sudden gasp shocked him out of the spell he seemed to be under. Her, she was what was different. She had never been present in any of his dreams about this place. If he held on to her she would ground him in the world of reality saving him from the dimension of fragmented dreams that made no sense.

  “Annie,” he breathed as he tightly gripped her shoulders.

 
; She seemed unaware of the turmoil boiling just beneath the surface of his skin. “Duncan how did you, how do you move so fast?” she asked in wonder.

  Did she not feel it? She housed a Sidhe beneath her mortal skin. Did she not hear and feel their presence, their ancient presence?

  “Do ya no’ feel that?” he asked glancing over his shoulder. They stood in the shadow of the mound that at one point in ancient history was the royal seat of the High King and Queen of Ireland, of the Sidhe.

  “I’ve felt it since we landed in Dublin, and that’s over twenty kilometers away,” she explained absently shrugging her shoulders. “Wait,” she muttered as she quickly caught on. “Are you telling me you feel it too?” she asked suspiciously.

  His eyes were still focused on his or perhaps their ultimate destination. He nodded his head silently agreeing, still afraid to admit, to give voice to the strange dreams that had plagued him since Bres’ defeat at the Wharf. Annie, unwilling to accept a silent conversation slipped out of his grip and circled around him.

  “Duncan,” she whispered softly reaching out a hand to draw his face down to look upon hers. “Talk to me, what are you feeling?”

  He shook his head confused as the last remnants of his defiance wanted him to remain mute. She would leave and he would lose her if he didn’t speak up now. Hadn’t Robert told him to talk to Annie about what he had seen in his sleep?

  “I’ve been here before, in a dream,” he finally admitted. “Although it was…it looked different than.” He squinted; his eyes and tried to focus on the memory of those haunting dreams. After the first night he had tried to run; however pieces of that first night’s journey here were still etched permanently in his mind’s eye as though he had seen them in the light of day. His eyes continued to scan the horizon, studying the landscape that surrounded them.

  “There was a large fortress just there,” he said pointing in the direction of the solitary stone that was perched atop a soft hill. “The walls were thick and wooden and the door, the gate,” he said correcting himself, “was strong and sturdy made from an ancient oak that had been struck by lightning. A seal sat in the center of the door. It was carved, crafted out of copper. The edges swirled and looped unendingly and they framed a symbol a triquetra inside a triquetra with blades on the tips of the three points.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that symbol before,” she admitted. “But if you’ve been here if you’ve seen Tara…I told you I thought something was trying to tell us something,” she said poking him in the chest.

  He laughed softly as he grabbed her hand and wrapped it within his to stop her from stabbing him with it. “I thought you were a skeptic,” he challenged placing a delicate kiss on the top of her hand.

  “That was before I found out I carried an ancient goddess and a legendary ghost teamed up with a jealous god and tried to kill me,” she grumbled in return. “What else have you seen, what else do you know?” she asked peering up at him suspiciously.

  “Honestly that is most of it.”

  He refused to tell her how much the door had frightened him and how he ran every night in an attempt to out run the fear that door represented. He would never admit how much that symbol had called to him, beckoned him and screamed at him. He would never tell her of how he ran, hard and fast every night away from the door and straight into the arms of a watery ghost that dragged him down into the darkness only to spit him out into the daylight of the future. His body might have given him away as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He rested his forehead against hers and stared into those eyes that had always been able to see straight through him. Her irises swirled in a colorful explosion as every shade of blue danced for dominance in her eyes. The Fae, the Sidhe in her was close to bursting out of her. He had had such a small amount of time with her, with Annie, he wanted more. He wanted to hear her snort with laughter when her mirth overtook her. He wanted to hear her sigh in content. He wanted to see her smile and joke with her friends in her lovely little garden a world away. He wanted…so much more time than he had been allowed to share with her and her motely band of friends. Had she been born in his time, in his village, he would have been drawn to her, would have asked her family to settle her upon him and would have died a happy man. Now, he was being asked to lead her to the slaughter. He gripped her tightly to him.

  “Don’t ya leave me,” he whispered a weak attempt at a spell. He had no magick; he held no power save what rested in his sword arm. He had nothing to give and expected everything in return.

  “You will have to choose,” whispered that evil little voice.

  “Not yet,” he finally pleaded in return.

  “Duncan?” her muffled whisper yanked him back to the present. He lifted his head and took a cautious look around.

  They had started to draw the attention of other tourists. A small group of all women led by one uncomfortable looking man stood a few feet away from them. A few of the aging ladies were staring at them; some had wistful looks upon their time etched faces as they were muttering like old hens about the beauty of young love.

  “Wait till they get older,” one particularly bitter voice stated. “Then his eye will wander as his manhood falters,” she loudly informed the group.

  “Francis,” whispered a meeker member of the group. “That’s not very nice,” she admonished.

  “Yeah, besides, Fran-cis,” returned another. “That’s what Viagra is for!”

  All the ladies snickered, some more lady-like than others before the embarrassed guide pushed the group on and away from Duncan and Annie.

  “What is Viagra?” he asked.

  “Um, I’m not sure you will ever,” she said with a quick glance down, “need that.”

  “So it works like mandrake root then?” he asked in an attempt to clarify her mysterious words. But judging from where her eyes drifted he got the point.

  “I am not answering that,” she replied as her face reddened. “Come on we haven’t got much time left before we need to find our way back to the church and meet up with the others. Besides I want to see the Mound of Hostages.”

  The Mound of the Hostages was barred and closed. Apparently the site was so old that no one was allowed entrance except during the winter solstice, and even then only thirty people were allowed to enter and they were chosen from tens of thousands who petitioned for entry to see a single ray of light pierce the ancient burial chamber. The history buff in her sighed in disappointment. Honestly Tara was not living up to her expectations. She had hoped for more jaw dropping historical significance. Instead she found her eyes focused on the ground in an attempt to sidestep any landmines the wandering sheep had left. The sheep had surprised her. She had not expected that livestock would be granted permission to wander freely upon such a historical site.

  Shortly after moving to Salem she had waded, a bit too far, out into the ocean at the Wharf and had been told by a stern, but polite, National Park Ranger that there was no wading and absolutely no swimming allowed at the Wharf. When she tried to argue the point, after all there were no signs prohibiting swimming, he simple informed her that it was a national monument, the first in the country as a matter of fact, he had tried to impress upon her the significance of the site hoping that his brief history lecture was enough for her to get the point. It was and she quickly evacuated the water. You couldn’t even wander into the water at a national site in America, but it seemed just fine to have sheep be the grounds keepers for Ireland’s biggest nationally protected site.

  “I wish we could go in,” she said as she pressed her face between the bars that gated the entrance into the Mound of Hostages. “I would love to get a better look at that stone,” she said pointing at a rather large boulder that sat just to the left of the entryway and that had been inscribed with strange symbols.

  “It’s a map,” Duncan informed her barely glancing at it.

  “How can you be so sure?” she asked as she tilted her head to the side attempting to get a
better look at it. Duncan shrugged his shoulders seemingly unable to answer her question with words.

  He seemed preoccupied with the larger mound that sat to the south of the Mound of Hostages, the spot where the Lia Fáils remained hidden just out of sight. She had tried since they had stepped onto the ancient sight to think of anything but that stone. She had been assured that Robert was fine, if not impatiently awaiting his rescue from and his imprisonment. His hero crush was quickly waning as Finn had begun to heal and tell tales of his exploits with the ladies. Whether because of his ancestor’s past relationship with Finn or because Robert just wasn’t interested in the ladies, he had grown tired, rather quickly of Finn’s past conquests. Shortly before the rest of the group had embarked upon their rescue mission Rian had been allowed to make one trip to visit the two men and inform them of the night’s plan, and because Annie and Kat had insisted on knowing that they were still alright.

  Annie had little else to worry about once she was assured that Robert, although bored, was fine. She had only one thing now that occupied the fore front of her mind; whether or not she would survive stepping on the Lia Fáils.

  The Lia Fáils had been brought with the Tuatha de Danann from their ancient cities; cities that if legend was to be believed predated man on earth. It was the kingmaker. It sung out the long (or in some cases the short) line of the future ruler. It could crown glory upon those that deserved it or, just as easily take it away. Duncan seemed to believe that as she was only half royal she could be and would be destroyed. She wasn’t going to lie to herself, the thought of suddenly not existing terrified her more than she would ever admit to anyone; but she had to at least try. The goddess inside of her was testing the restraints of her mortal cage, checking for weaknesses in the enchantment that had bound the two of them together. When Annie’s anger showed itself the goddess seemed to be able to gain control and power. She could not go through the rest of her life living in fear of her own anger like she was some big green rage machine. Besides if the goddess did not return to her world, the Otherworld, the world Annie called home was doomed anyways. Not having a choice made choosing her path easy, but that did mean she was comfortable with the only option available to her.