The Mirror Sliver (Legends of Green Isle Book 2)
Page 8
“Captain? I knew many of those men who died today. I don’t relish having to go back to Nuada Findi to tell their kinfolk,” Christos remarked. He rubbed the top of his bald head thoughtfully.
Urcias grabbed him on the shoulder and nodded. He liked Christos. The oldest of them all, the warrior had seen many battles. Urcias was glad he was among those who survived. His wisdom would be needed.
“I’ll go with you. No need for you to handle that burden alone. Once we return. If we return. Without our ship, I’m perplexed as to how we will get back there.”
“Didn’t you say others were coming? Maybe they didn’t tangle with that Wurm.” Christos poked at the fire.
“Perhaps we can include the assassin in our ranks,” Thyssen said. He held up the arrow and examined it in the firelight. “I just wonder if the Elf Kingdom has declared full outright war on the warlock”
“I’m positive Queen Erulisse wouldn’t want to attract attention at this moment. For the Elf Kingdom to outright declare war would be a move Uthal would want. It would engulf us all in battle. No, she’s smarter than that. Had it been an act of war, the Golden Army would have gathered here in full force. Along with this elf. Those of Kille Cael are only used in solitary missions. I’ve seen them in action. From my years spent at the outpost in the Great Pine Forest, I’ve run into a few who were sent down to the lands of Murias Donn.”
“Is that why we came so secretively?” Christos asked. “Are we being used for a solitary mission?”
“Yes. In some ways. Queen Adalay knew that dark magic was filtering from Crag Cairn.” Urcias swallowed hard when he said her name. “Most of the inhabitants of Green Isle are afraid of starting a war with Uthal. Even if it’s just the reflection of him they are fighting. The queen knew I had promised support to the wizard. Our own Senate? They would rather bicker about anything than plan any decisive move. Queen Adalay knew this. That’s why she signed the order herself to commission us here.”
“And then paid a hefty price for it, mind ya,” Rufus muttered.
Christos nodded. “You’re right about that, Captain. I’ve had my fill of dealing with those pompous…”
“They’re a handful, I know,” Urcias interjected before Christos went into a tirade.
“But if the Black Warlock has been imprisoned for over three thousand years and hasn’t escaped yet, then why should we be so concerned about it now?” The older man shook his head. “It just doesn’t go makin’ any sense.”
“Locked in his mirror, he can only function through his consort, Bera. She’s controlling that for him. At least for now. The prophecies said that one day he would break free. That the magic that holds him there is limited. The wizard Keltrain? The one who I met at the outpost? He carried the dagger, the one I told you about. He told me this was happening. Uthal is attempting to bring back ancient magic. Bad magic. And it could destroy our world and that of Earth.”
“But why send an elf assassin?” Thyssen asked.
“I’m sure Queen Erulisse probably sent someone here to assess how far Uthal has managed to escape his bounds. And, perhaps, to deal with Bera.”
Thyssen twirled the arrow between his fingers. “If I remember correctly, it was also foretold that one day a champion would come from Earth to destroy him. Is that person from Earth here on the island too?”
“I hope so. I would hate to think they encountered the Wurm and suffered like us. I met them back at the outpost in the Great Pine Forest. There are four young people. And a dragon, who used to be with the clans.”
“A clan dragon?” Christos whistled. “I thought all of the clan dragons had been wiped out in the Druid wars. I remember hearing legends of a king dragon that existed long ago. White, large, its scales shone like pearls.”
“Not all of them perished. This one belonged to Queen Adalay’s clan. He’s probably there to protect the one the sword choses. One of them would have been chosen as the champion. But I don’t know who. They were heading toward the hidden location of the sword when they crossed our path.”
Ortho, a large sailor with black curly hair, stuck his meaty fist into his palm forcefully. His young face, set and determined, beamed in the firelight. He nodded his head as he couldn’t talk. Urcias knew he was telling them he was willing to fight.
Ditred, his olive skin shining from the wet breeze of the ocean, picked up his double-edged sword and made a swiping motion in the air. “I think Ortho’s got the right idea. Eh, Ortho? We may be few. But we’re strong. If those of the legends are here, then we’re needed to stand with them. I think Queen Adalay made the right decision sending us here. Even if we suffered a great loss at the beginning.”
“Thank you. Your words mean much. I was hoping that our fifty, those of the elite guard, would make quick remedy of the warlock. It seems destiny has other plans for us. We are so few now.” Urcias threw a branch into the fire. “Let’s get some rest before morning. We’ll head out then to Lismort. That’s where we’re supposed to meet the wizard.”
Urcias walked away quickly. He moved to check his horse, away from his men. He didn’t want them to see the strain on his face. Losing all the men, the sailors, and especially Adalay, weighed heavy on his heart. He tried to concentrate as the others talked of a plan of attack against the warlock’s fortress, but thoughts of Adalay kept him from it. For you, my love, I’ll conquer anything. Your death mustn’t be in vain.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Let them come,” the husky voice whispered in the dark confines of the cavern. “Send the Bodach after those who survived the attack. Splinter them further.”
“Yes, my lord. As you wish,” the witch replied.
The form on the other side of the mirror dissipated, leaving the glass clear. The only remaining reflection was that of the bent and withered body of an old hag. Leaving the underground cave, the witch crept up the long, stone staircase in the lower level of the fortress. With each step, her body changed, until she emerged from a hidden panel beside a large fireplace, no longer old but youthful. Stepping into the grand hallway, her eyes quickly studied the shadows, probing the darkest corners, to assure herself that none saw the secret door before she closed it.
Her body glided gracefully down the length of the expansive corridor. She glanced briefly at her reflection in one of the towering mirrors that was fitted in the recessed walls. So beautiful. She smiled at her image in the mirror. She allowed herself a moment to gaze at the pale beauty that stared back. Black eyes, the lashes long, peered out as islands in a milk white face. Her blond hair fell in ringlets down her back, cascading like a frozen waterfall. She liked this body. Being this way made her feel powerful. Too bad Uthal wouldn’t let her keep it. He said it was only useful to control the mass of thugs he assembled through the mirror portal from ApHar Mountains. But she knew it could control much more. More than that of the old hag.
Sighing, she turned from the reflection. Hopefully the Princess of Murias Donn would arrive soon. She was anxious to hear about her task at Half Moon Lake. The symbol of innocence and light was needed she could continue the rest of the spell. The five small souls they acquired from Earth would be the second phase. Their life force was robust and it would make the spell strong. How long had they been here? Thousands of years. Long enough for him to know revenge and what they must do. She shook her head. But would he do it?
Chuckling, she envisioned the defeat of the Elf Kingdom at Ellyllon. Erulisse and Angus would pay for their treachery and then the rest of Green Isle would feel the sting of the forgotten spell. Those who rebelled against their rule would be taken from their bodies and fed to the growing power of the Black Warlock, until no magic remained except for their own. Mindless slaves the rebels would become. Servants to their supremacy. My supremacy.
“Mustn’t get carried away,” she said to no one. “One thing at a time.”
Afterwards, it would be time to re-conquer Earth. Take back what belonged to them. They would end the rule of the humans and their superf
icial authority. Magic had taken hold again there. Even if they couldn’t see it. The refugees who remained behind had grown strong again.
A sound caught her ears. It was the dragging of a foot against the worn rock floor. “Show yourself, Bodach,” she demanded. She knew in an instant what shuffled in the dark shadows, hesitating in the gloom behind the massive hall door. She could see the edge of a dark wool cloak. “Ah. So, you made it. Master has another request. He wants you to divide the group. Separate them. They must be discouraged,” she instructed. “We don’t want them to reach the fortress, now do we?”
“Yesssss, Missssstresssss. Payment?”
“How dare you ask me that? Finish the job. Then you are paid. And change your speech, idiot. Otherwise they’ll know what you are.”
“Yesssss.”
The witch shook her head. Imbeciles. All of them. She fumed quietly. Mercenaries who had no alliance except to the highest bidder and she didn’t like any of them. They were unreliable. She watched the Bodach melt back into the darkness, disappearing from the hall.
“Make sure you do what Master orders or you’ll be dealt with,” she hissed. “They must be broken further.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The fire was waning when Lug jerked awake. He didn’t open his eyes completely, but instead listened. He wanted to make sure all were asleep before he opened them. His mind centered on each figure, hearing the soft sounds of their breathing, until he came to Miranda. With her, he let his mind connect. He waited until his presence was immersed within her dreams and then watched the visions play.
She must have been dreaming of Earth and her home. There was an older woman sitting on a swing structure and drinking something. The dwellings looked strange and fragile. But then again, all life on Earth seemed to be frail. There wasn’t much magic to guard them against the evil that played with their lives.
He heard her whimper. The dream changed swiftly. Now there were faces. Many of them. These must be the spirits of the sword. Without expectation, they came at him. He sat upright and opened his eyes. Miranda likewise had sat up and was staring at him.
“Were you just in my dreams?”
He looked at the others. No one else was stirring.
“They aren’t going to wake up, because this isn’t real.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
Miranda’s face shifted horribly and out of her came an old hag, laughing and ripping at him with claw-like hands. When they grasped his arm, the talons dug deep into his flesh. “We’ve been hunting for you for a while,” the hag screeched.
He screamed.
“Lug!” a voice cried.
In the next instant, he was truly awake. The fire was smoldering and Miranda was kneeling beside him. “You were having a nightmare,” she said. Her brow was furrowed deeply.
“It felt real. Very real.” He looked at his arms. The gash from the previous day throbbed, but there weren’t any marks from the hag’s claws.
“Why are you lookin’ at your arms and all?”
“It felt like they had been cut.”
“You have been cut.”
“No. Not that one. New ones.”
“Was it somethin’ black chasing ya? Because that’s what happened before. With Matt. I didn’t listen then. And look what happened to him.”
He took her hand and brought it to his cheek. “No, sweet Miranda. Nothing was chasing me. It was just a dream. I’m all right.”
“Just let me know if somethin’ starts chasing ya, okay? I couldn’t bear it.”
“Bear what?”
She shook her head and walked away.
Lug watched her go. In that instant, he knew. She had dreamed of him, also.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Morning came too quickly for Adalay. The shadows caused by the rising sun played in the tops of the thin pines above her head. The sparse light added little warmth. The fire had almost died. The smoke from the tiny blaze streamed upwards, its grey arms twisting in a narrow reach for the sky. It made Adalay think of home. But she quickly brushed away the image. It was memories of a time she didn’t want to recall.
She rolled over and glanced at her companions. The Border Elf was hunched down in front of the dying coals. His head was bent to his chest and the soft sounds of snoring emanated from him. Adalay thought about the previous days and all that had transpired. What was going to happen to them now? Without Urcias and his men, who would champion the Royal House and fight alongside the legendary four? Was Green Isle and her world doomed?
She glanced again at the sleeping form of the elf. Nimi had stayed awake most of the night watching with Olifur. He never seemed to ease his awareness of the blackness beyond the light of their tiny blaze. She lie silently awake with them, her eyes following the motions the two made, as sleep refused to come. Her thoughts swirled and turned to Urcias every so often. The conversation she had with him the day he returned from the outpost re-played in her thoughts and she soon found herself focusing on Idril. Could this boy be one of the legendary four from Earth? She contemplated the idea. If he was, how did he drown and what happened to the others who were with him? Were they still alive? Or was this small group all that was left of a gallant effort to rise against the Black Warlock and defend Green Isle?
She looked up to see Nimi awake now and studying her face. She darted her eyes away. The elf said nothing as he knelt to feed the fire with more twigs. His face showed no signs that he understood her thoughts, but his eyes spoke of something different. She knew the message and she refused to acknowledge it. Building a mental wall, she regarded the boy, who still slept. They were all trapped together on Black Isle now and he may be holding the only key to defeating Uthal. And escaping Crag Cairn with their lives.
The wand was most interesting. She had heard myths of old Fomorian magic relics, but never saw one. The tales frightened those who sought the magic. As it was told, these relics possessed their owners with such great power that many were consumed by it. The magic asked too much. Their soul fused with the force, forging a bond that could only be broken by death.
When she embarked on her training as a sorceress, there were rumors that only a portion of the ancient artifacts had been found. Now she crossed paths with one of the relics and she was afraid. But she didn’t know of what. It was only worthy of a powerful druid or wizard and this young man was neither. How would he even begin to use it? He didn’t even know who he was or where he came from.
Thinking of her book lost beneath the waves, she closed her eyes. Her shoulders trembled with the weight of her sorrow. Not just for the book, but for her captain. She would be lost without him. And without the ancient pages of her ancestors, her magic would be weak. Would she even be able to remember any of her incantations? At least she still carried her pendant. The crystal containing the energy and the memory of her King. It alone had been saved from the icy clutch of the sea.
Adalay glanced at Nimi again, and wasn’t surprised to see that he was observing her. His soft brown elf eyes studied her face. The look he gave her was familiar. She had seen it before, when the captain was with her and his eyes watched her movements with such care. She turned her head. She didn’t want to be reminded of Urcias. His love was gone from her. Lost like that of her husband. She forced her mind to Idril and his artifact again. She would need to seek an answer to his presence and his possession of the wand. Perhaps in time, she could coax from him the precious gift. And find a way to defeat Uthal herself.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The chilly air of the morning whipped around the group camped under the makeshift shelter. Ned felt in sync with the motion of the sluggish waves in the distance. He moved stiffly when he woke from a tortured sleep. The cold of the morning penetrated deeply. He regarded his friends through blurry eyes. His dreams had been filled with the muffled sounds of screams, but he couldn’t remember the exact details. He stretched slightly, trying to ease the ache of his muscles. Stupid Wurm. He flexed his fingers and examine
d the cuts on the back of his hands.
Why? It was a question that kept echoing. His heart carried sadness. For his friend and for his brother. Thomas now seemed to walk in the shoes of Matt. Thomas is a good big brother, and strong. Yet, he knew Thomas had his limitations. And all you’ve done is whine, he admonished himself. It was an observation that came from the realization that this quest had caused his soul to remake itself. Maybe there would be a way for him to carry some of Thomas’ load. He needed to find out how.
Touching the silver key below his leather tunic, his mind centered itself on the elusive entity of Morrigana. Why did she give this to him? What was its purpose? The old woman had been mysterious about her gift. While she proclaimed prophecies over the other three, she was silent to Ned. Instead of words she had given him a look that could wither a flower and then placed the silver key in his hand.
“You look deep in thought. Is there anything I can help with?”
Ned jumped at the sound of Keltrain’s voice. He was unaware the wizard had walked up beside him. “It’s this key. I don’t know why she gave it to me. I mean, what’s its purpose, ya know? I wanna help Thomas and Miranda. But I don’t know how. Somehow, I feel if I could unlock the mystery to this key, I’d have the answer.”
“I see.” Keltrain scratched his chin. “I don’t imagine Morrigana would have given you this artifact without a specific purpose for it. She’s not one to be very random about her gifts, my friend.”
“I feel like I haven’t done much but whine the entire time we’ve been here. After Matt’s…” Ned hesitated.
“It’s all right. You don’t have to say it.”
“After he left, I’ve been kinda wondering why it wasn’t me.”
“You? Why would you even think that?”
“Because. I don’t figure that I’ve got too much importance in this quest. You know?”