The Mirror Sliver (Legends of Green Isle Book 2)

by Constance Wallace

  LEGENDS OF GREEN ISLE: THE MIRROR SLIVER

  By

  Constance Wallace

  Copyright © Constance Wallace 2014

  Cover Copyright © Constance Wallace 2017

  Published by Chimera

  (An Imprint of Ravenswood Publishing)

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher and/or author.

  Ravenswood Publishing

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  Autryville, NC 28318

  http://www.ravenswoodpublishing.com

  Email: RavenswoodPublishing@gmail.com

  Paperback orders can be made through Createspace

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  Printed in the United States of American

  First Edition

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  ISBN-13: 978-1977828491

  ISBN-10: 1977828493

  DEDICATION

  To My Mother, Patricia Krahn,

  Who fought the valiant fight and won,

  To my friend, Tracy Woods, who always listens,

  To Lisanne Cooper, whose mentorship has been very valued;

  And to the Archer

  May he find what he’s searching for…

  THE SHADOW

  PEOPLE

  ACT TWO

  The blade felt cold and heavy in her hand. Its metal comforted her. She hid the blade beneath the wool of her dark grey cloak, afraid the others would see her weakness. Standing under a tree in the Elder grove on the borders of Half Moon Lake, she frowned and watched silently as the witch’s soldiers slid in the mud. She moved a wayward strand of wet black hair gently away from her face and glanced at the rain clouds above her.

  “What are you thinking?” The man next to her shifted slightly. His left hand rested on the hilt of a sword.

  “I’m perplexed and aggravated. And I keep asking myself why he chose me.” She grimaced. The sight of the soldiers caused an immense loathing to surface within her and all she wanted to do was walk away. Yet, she stayed.

  “When are we supposed to be there?”

  “In two weeks,” she whispered.

  Why did she stay? She shook her head as she struggled to answer her own question. It was the power of her obligation. Father, why did you send me here?

  “Be careful with that. You imbeciles,” she yelled when the soldiers dropped the corner of a large, iron cage. The captain smartly saluted her as they dragged it out of the mud and onto a small knoll at the end of the tree line. “It’s the only one we have. You destroy it, you destroy the chance.”

  “Ceridwyn. You mustn’t talk to the witch’s men like that. There could be consequences,” her companion warned.

  “Then they need to understand the importance of our quest. All of them are annoying me.”

  “Just remember what your father said.”

  “I remember too well.”

  Ceridwyn shivered. The sun disappeared once more behind low rolling storm clouds that blanketed the mountains beyond the water. She drew her cloak tighter when a gust of chilly wind brushed her body.

  They’re so dirty and wet. And smell like rotten eggs. Her eyes narrowed in disgust. How she despised the soldiers and their mistress. Their presence in her father’s lands was an insult to her family and the lineage of druids that once controlled the southern tip of Green Isle. The House of Murias Donn needs no ally. She sighed heavily.

  “Do you think the Elf Queen knows?” The man next to her moved closer.

  “No. The witch is distracting all of them. Even those who came through the portal.”

  “Wonder what will happen once Erulisse finds out?”

  “Nothing good. But I don’t care.”

  She thought about her father and the House of Murias Donn. The Shadow People didn’t need the help of the Dark One. They had proven themselves worthy adversaries on many occasions.

  "We’re ready. That cage’ll hold anythin’ now. We got it right and made it accordin’ to the instruction of her majesty." A rather burly soldier approached her. It was the captain of the witch’s guard.

  Drenched from the sudden downpour, he wiped his muddy hands across the front of his uniform. "Now it just be time for yer task," he said with a gleam in his eye. “Ar ya what ya say ya be?”

  Ceridwyn nodded. She envisioned her fingers ripping the smirk from his face. "Your witch shall have her prize. Best mind your manners, barbarian. Otherwise your constant lack of respect will be dealt with," she stated coolly. Her fingers grasped her dagger tighter. She didn’t like the way he looked at her.

  Sneering, the untidy man rubbed his lips. Ceridwyn watched as his eyes traveled the length of her slender frame. A flicker of vulgar emotion flashed beneath his irises. It was too much for her. Her fingernails made dents in her palms as she controlled her anger.

  "Maybe ya could grace the likes of me with a kiss after we’ve finished ‘ere," he whispered so that no one else could hear him. Especially her escort. “A gift such as that from a fair maiden as yerself would be a worthy prize.”

  Instinctively her hand lashed out. It felt good to feel the sharp pain as it connected to the exposed skin under the man’s dirty helmet. "Watch your tongue or my father will hear of your words. How dare you even ask such a thing?" She clenched her teeth. “Our kind doesn’t mix with yours. Don’t forget it.”

  Laughing, the soldier turned away and proceeded to the large cage. She watched as he sunk ankle deep into the mud and motioned. "Git back under the cover of the trees, or it’ll see ya bunch of mucks," he commanded gruffly. Turning to Ceridwyn, he called out loudly, “Ya sure we can trust ya and yer father? Cuz the witch made me watch for any of ya shadowy tricks.”

  Her mind screamed a war cry of vengeance, but she held her body still. Her hand returned to the hidden folds of her cloak and rubbed the point of her dagger. Her mind filled with the dark thought of plunging it into his flesh. “You have my promise that you can trust me to get what she wants,” she retorted. She allowed the man his indiscretion. Disappointing her father wasn’t an option. She would deal with this captain soon enough. “But can I trust you?” she added quickly. She squinted her eyes and watched with loathing as he turned and moved toward the cage. “And can we trust your mistress?” she whispered.

  An unfamiliar sound caused the group to stand upright at attention. Ceridwyn held her breath as she heard the mystic cry carry eerily through the valley below. It had come. It made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. “Move into position. It’s time,” she commanded quietly.

  She left the shelter of the Elder and walked a well-worn path to the edge of Half Moon Lake. The waters rippled with the wind as she made her way to a selected spot. Slowly she slipped into hiding behind the cattails and stood. All she needed to do now was wait until the beast came closer.

  In a few moments, she sensed he was near. She began to whistle the forlorn notes of the melody. The song brought an answer. Then she saw him. His sleek equine body emerged from the grey mist that covered the shores of the lake. He appeared like a ghostly apparition, his coat glistening in the rain and his mane flowing softly. She held her breath, unable to fathom his existence. "Come, mighty one. Come closer," she called lightly
and held out her hand for the unicorn.

  She whistled the song again. It was the magic tune the witch taught her. She touched the side of her cheek when she felt a warm trickle of wetness at the corner of her eye. The tear surprised her and she briefly pondered why it occurred. Then she caught sight of the stallion and her mind left its existence. He had moved closer and his beauty touched even her dark heart. For a second, the air around her charged and lightened. Why? It was a word that encompassed a multitude of questions. Her soul cringed at the thought of the task she was about to perform.

  When he stopped inches from her hand, the unicorn snorted. He instinctively measured her and then took a step closer. The princess could see the fear leaving his eyes and felt his vulnerability. She marveled at the clarity of her reflection in his large brown pupils. For some reason the sight engulfed her in agony. She couldn’t tolerate it and looked away. When he nuzzled her hand, she looked back and melted inwardly. His eyes relayed a message and she nodded her understanding.

  Gently she took a silk rope from her pocket and slipped it over his head. Her heart sank as she led him back up the path to the cage. He’s the last of his kind. The only thing left of innocence. Her father’s words resurfaced in her thoughts. “Ceridwyn. It’s just a remnant of an age lost on Earth. Why be so concerned about it?”

  “Because it’s the only thing left of a time before those of the magic realm disappeared to this world of Be'thasileth. And into darkness. They were there protecting us all before we took flight to this forsaken place.”

  “You shouldn’t have such feelings for this thing. It has no place in our plans.” Ceridwyn remembered the look on his face when he walked away. She pushed the image from her mind and focused on the unicorn.

  The stallion allowed itself to be ushered into the confines of the metal. After the lock slipped into place, the unicorn's eyes remained fixed on her. Ceridwyn clasped the dagger in her hands. She felt conflicted about her duty. She placed her hand into the coarse hair of the mane and stroked his neck. The feel of his coat was soft and assuring. She laid against him, her body feeling his energy, and held her breath. Could she do want the witch wanted?

  Why? It was that word again. It seemed to find itself echoing always in the depths of her soul. She had no answer for it. This was a duty to her father and nothing else. Her hand hesitated briefly before she drew her dagger and plunged it deep into the unicorn’s neck. She caught a sob before it escaped and watched as warm, dark crimson liquid flowed over her hand.

  Staggering to the ground, the animal took a shallow breath of air and grew still. Ceridwyn felt anger and sorrow as she realized what she had done. It was worse than murder, and now there would be no more of its kind. Ever. The light, that innocent barrier of the unicorn that kept the demons at bay, had been extinguished. She quickly sliced the horn from its head and turned away in shame. She didn’t want to see the last of the light fade from the animal’s soft brown eyes.

  "Well done," the captain of the guard exclaimed. His face shone in delight. He stomped to the cage and slipped open the lock. "Time for ya to give up yer prize." He grabbed her shoulder.

  Anticipating the advance, Ceridwyn countered by pivoting away. When she turned, her arm thrust upward, her fingers touching the dirty forehead of the man. With a spark of magic, a shade, the shadowed soul of the man began to separate from his body. Ceridwyn felt no remorse as she watched his agony. His face remained frozen in shock as his dark spirit became harnessed by her powers. In a few moments, the once fleshy skin of the man shrank, turning to ashen grey.

  Ceridwyn absorbed his essence and when his body fell against her, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. "I warned you about your disrespect," she whispered into his ear. Opening her arms, she allowed the skeleton to sink to the ground.

  “The witch isn’t going to like that.” Her companion kicked at the corpse. “You’ve killed one of her pets.”

  “Then we won’t tell her, will we?” Ceridwyn stepped backwards. Pulling a cloth from her cloak, she carefully wrapped the unicorn horn within its folds and tied it with the silk cord that once held the neck of the stallion.

  “We should leave. Before this bunch of primitives come to attention and decide you’ve done a grave injustice to their captain.”

  “He had it coming.”

  “They’re not going to see it that way. As I’m very sure the witch won’t either.”

  “The witch expressed to all of them that no harm should befall any of us. As for my deed to their captain? I don’t tolerate any type of disrespect. Especially from the likes of him. He was ignorant and a slob. I only took his vile words until we had the horn.”

  “But now you must contend with his mistress.”

  Ceridwyn nodded. “I understand the consequences. Let’s go. I can’t stand being here another moment.”

  “Your father will be proud,” her escort said.

  “Really?” she murmured. She couldn’t take her gaze from the body inside the cage.

  “Don’t be so forlorn about its death. It’s just a beast.”

  “It was more than that,” she replied. She regarded her escort. “There are no more. And it was a guardian to Green Isle. Who will guard us now against evil?”

  “We are evil. Or don’t you remember?”

  Ceridwyn drew back at his words. Why? She shook her head, the anger filling her. “Come,” she commanded. “Let’s get to our harbor and head to Black Isle.” Quickly she moved to her mare and away from the body in the cage. She didn’t want to see the red spreading outwards into the mud. “We need to get to the witch. She’ll be expecting us. And the horn.”

  “Patience. Your father needs to be notified of our success.”

  Ceridwyn swung a leg over the top of her horse and sighed heavily as her eyes drifted once more to the body of the unicorn. Why? “What does my father hope to gain from this spell? Wasn’t it used against us when we lived on Earth?”

  “Yes. But alliances come and go. Power means everything. And if your enemy gives you a better bargain, then you need to take it.”

  Ceridwyn’s heart sank. She wanted to run, but instead she turned her horse in the direction of the coast. She had to leave quickly from the evidence of her sin.

  “Warily do they step, for innocence has been murdered.”

  Quatrains of the Wizard Keltrain

  CHAPTER ONE

  It had been two days since Matt’s disappearance over the side of the ship. The crew of the Bhanrion Oighir had been solemn, watching the waters grow darker and colder hour after hour. Each in their own way hoped to find even a trace of him.

  Keltrain’s hands grasped the steering wheel. He pondered the distant clouds on the horizon. The blackness of the ocean seemed to mirror his mood. The further they sailed from Green Isle the closer they drew to the evil that waited for them. He could feel its tightness growing around him. It was like a noose around his neck.

  He scowled at the wind. The memory of the night that Matt was lost held emotions he didn’t want to acknowledge. He felt immense pain. The feelings strayed too close to an abyss from which he climbed out of long ago. Three thousand years his heart had shut itself away. Far away from a wayward apprentice whom he had loved.

  I should’ve been able to protect Matt. Yet, he knew why he wasn’t able to do so. He couldn’t shield the children from the darkness of the Slaugh. His magic was weak. It had been so for some time. Three thousand years of his curse had taken its toll. Simple things came easy, but other spells, ones that were powerful and needed strength, were lost to him. He couldn’t let the others know, though. Especially when he was to lead them in a defense against the Black Warlock. He had to protect the Sword Bearer.

  Miranda. The girl from Earth. She held the key to everything. It was strange to him that the sword had chosen her. A girl. But then again, magic things had a mind of their own. He made up his mind. He would be their backbone. The others must have the illusion that he was still a great master of magic.


  The wizard grimaced at the thought of standing face to face with Uthal. In this state, he would be no match for the dark power of his adversary. He glanced at the rising sun. The color of the planet’s normal purple-hued sky was washed into an ugly grey.

  He looked down at those huddled on deck. The brothers, Ned and Thomas, bent close together. They shielded themselves against the chilly air, their faces drawn in a frown. Dark circles under their eyes spoke volumes to him. He knew they were thinking about their lost friend. Ned had been fearful from the start. The others seemed ready for adventure. They had jumped into their roles as the legends of the prophesy. But the youngest? No. He didn’t regard it as a worthy journey. Perhaps he felt something? Perhaps he knew this would end badly? The wizard shut away the thought. It couldn’t end badly. They had to succeed. Miranda even gave hope to their success when she said she could still feel Matt’s presence. It meant the shadow realm hadn’t claimed the boy.

  And then there was Lug. His new apprentice from Partholon hung over the railing. The young man’s eyes watched the black silhouette of the cursed island in the distance. Keltrain saw the boy glance at the girl occasionally.

  “It be takin’ too long to get there,” Lamfada proclaimed.

  “We can only move as fast as the wind blows,” Keltrain responded.

  “Then do some talkin’ to the wind.” The old leprechaun sat on a barrel next to the cabin and smoked his small pipe, puffing the air quickly in apprehension. “Ya be needin’ to make the boat go faster. If what the girl be sayin’ and Matt be at Black Isle, then the lad be in danger.”

  “I’m very aware of that, my friend.” Keltrain glanced at the small dragon on the deck. DaGon, his eyes closed against the dawning day, rested with his companion, the flower fairy, Lily. In the back of his mind, he wondered why those two stayed with them at all. DaGon and the little fairy really had no reason to continue. Was there something more about the quest that Keltrain didn’t see in his visions? They appeared to be the only ones who remained detached.