The Obsidian Dagger

by Brad A. LaMar

“What are you looking for?” Gorgoch asked the young American.

  “Ruas,” answered Brendan.

  Gorgoch shook his head knowingly. That’s why the memories had flooded him in this place. Brendan was some sort of clairvoyant, a vision catcher. Gorgoch should have seen it before. He wasn’t sure if he had just piggybacked off of the boy’s sight or vice versa.

  Brendan scanned the walls, and then he saw them. Red orbs flared to life on the far right. Then another set of eyes popped up on the left. Next thing they knew the room was lit up like Christmas lights with a hundred pair of eyes flaring from every shadow of the cavern.

  “Looks like they didn’t want to disappoint you,” said Gorgoch.

  Brendan hardened his features and whipped his sword around in preparation. “Who were they again?”

  Gorgoch shrugged. “They were the poor locals who have been enslaved by the witch.”

  “Are they alive?” asked Lizzie. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt real people. It was one thing to smash a stick into a Kelpie’s face but to bash a human was quite another.

  “In a way,” answered the spirit man. “But don’t be fooled into thinking that you can bring them back to the human world. The human side is dead.”

  “Think of them as shells, Lizzie,” added Dorian. “You’re going to have to crack those shells, hon.”

  The slaves could be heard growling and shuffling along the walls and ceiling apparently surrounding the travelers. The group readied themselves with their backs to the center. Each held their magical weapon with a purpose.

  The Ruas slowly came into view and Brendan breathed out a slow breathe of preparation. He held the sword out like a knight. “Be ready, guys. Here they come.”

  …

  Dullahan stood well off in the shadow in the cave’s opening to watch. If he’d had a head he would have smiled. The Leprechauns, the humans, and the meddlesome Gorgoch were about to be in big trouble. If the mindless, savage slaves could just delay the little rescue party for enough time, then the Leprechauns would be out of the equation and the humans would join the throng of slaves. Dullahan was hoping for an entertaining show, no matter how it turned out.

  …

  Duncan was vaguely aware that his cage was in motion. The grunts of a guard and the creaking of one the wheels was the only noise he recognized. Sometime after the cage started moving it stopped. He heard the wind from somewhere off to the right and the scraping of some long talons on a stone floor. He thought that the griffin was clawing at the ground so that meant that he was in the tower. A large cold wave swept into the room, and it wasn’t the wind.

  The air felt heavy and pressed in on him. He was feeling terrible as it was, but resisting Morna with her being that close in proximity was difficult and growing more difficult with every second that passed.

  “How are we feeling today, Duncan?” cackled the witch.

  Duncan’s willpower was dwindling and he sensed the witch’s magic forcing its way into his. Its tendrils were slippery and crafty. He had been holding her assaults at bay, but how could he expect to continue?

  “Give in,” Morna prodded. “You’ve been so brave, little one. No one would blame you.”

  Her voice was like a memory or a dream. It floated into his head and played with his will. He half thought that it was his voice trying to convince him to stop the resistance. It would be so much easier to just give in.

  “Don’t worry, Duncan. You will be able to rest soon. I’ve almost got you.” A wicked smiled played at her lips as the delicious thought of all that power was so temptingly close to her grasp.

  …

  The Rua hoard attacked like a mob storming a wall with sharp, jagged nails, powerful bodies, and hungry jaws. They were fast and that surprised Lizzie. In the movies they usually made them out to be plodding and sloth-like, but these suckers were like ninjas and pumas all in one. Luckily for the rescue party, they had a bit of Leprechaun magic on their side.

  Lizzie spun and swung her staff cracking heads and dislocating jaws. The slaves had glazed looks in their eyes and they showed no signs of pain or emotion as the small group slashed, smashed, and thrashed them. Lizzie felt satisfaction as she beat the red-eyes away. After a particularly good Thwack! she chanced a glance at her smaller Leprechaun friends.

  Rory was way quicker than he looked. Lizzie thought he looked elvish as fluidly as he darted in and out of stomping feet, firing arrow after arrow into the Ruas. A well-placed arrow would bring down the savage creatures, but Rory didn’t always have time to take his best aim. She didn’t worry about Rory as she broke the skull of another of Morna‘s slaves.

  Next, she looked up and watched Biddy torment the red-eyes that were still clinging to the ceiling. She darted in and out of their flailing arms and shot daggers from her wings. Bodies splashed all around Lizzie in the shimmering little pool.

  “Nice job, Biddy!” she shouted. It gave her strength to see them doing so well, and she knew she had to match them.

  Dorian and Brendan stood back-to-back as they faced the horde. His sword and her magical blasts were making short work of the red-eyes.

  After cutting off the head of an ugly female Rua, Brendan took a needed breathe. It seemed like he had been holding it for some time without realizing it. “How are we doing, Dorian?”

  Blast!

  “Eh, I think we’re doing better than they are,” she said.

  Sching!

  “Don’t let them fool you,” he warned. “They are vicious and will eat you as soon as look at you.”

  Dorian seared more of the red-eyes from across the cave, cutting their bodies in half. “How do you know anything about them?”

  Gorgoch appeared between them. “He’s a seer.”

  “What!” she exclaimed. “You’ve been having visions and you haven’t said anything?”

  Brendan sliced and diced and then shrugged. “I didn’t know that’s what was going on.” He blocked a claw and spun out to the right to disembowel the beast. “They have mostly just been dreams, but when we stepped in here, I had one happen right in front on my eyes.”

  “This one was my fault, I’m afraid,” declared Gorgoch with his head hung. “I was relieving a memory, and Brendan must have hitched on to it.”

  Brendan paused his fight and took a second to pity Gorgoch. If that was how he was caught, then how did he die? he wondered.

  “I’m sorry, Artie,” replied Brendan.

  “It wasn’t your doing.” Gorgoch’s features showed anger and he began to glow with a blue hue. “Don’t worry, I won’t let them do the same to you.”

  Dullahan was impressed with the young ones. They were very capable of handling themselves. What pleased him most was how Gorgoch stood, or floated, frozen with fear. This must have been very painful to the spirit man. Dullahan reveled in that.

  The Ruas kept coming at the travelers and Dullahan had the feeling that they couldn’t hold back the dead for much longer. That was until that blasted spirit exploded. At least that’s what it looked like to Dullahan.

  The entire cavern was drenched in a bright blue light and in a flash the creatures vanished! Dullahan couldn’t believe what had just happened, but whatever it was he had to tell Morna that the travelers were on their way!

  “What was that?” asked Lizzie, her eyes still seeing spots.

  Dorian looked around with the spots in her vision as well. She saw the spots well, but the Ruas were nowhere to be found. “I–I don’t know.”

  Biddy zoomed down from the ceiling and hovered near Brendan’s head. “Where’s Artie?”

  Brendan thought that the old ghost had something to do with the flash, but he wasn’t certain. The fact was the spirit man was gone. It was as if he and the red-eyes had all been teleported somewhere else.

  “I don’t think we can worry about that right now,” said Dorian. “We need to hurry. I feel that my father can’t hold out much longer.”

  “How do you know?” asked Lizzie.

&nbs
p; Rory leapt up to her shoulder. “I can feel it, too.”

  “Then let’s get a move on,” Brendan declared and walked towards the cave’s exit.

  …

  A dark and shadowed man hovered just out of Oscar’s sight, but he knew he was there. He also knew he was still dreaming.

  “One down, my friend, and two to go,” the shadowed man declared. “You will not remember this conversation, but you will act on my words. Two sisters patiently wait for their discovery, Oscar. You are charged with finding them and returning all three to me.”

  “Yes,” accepted Oscar happily.

  “The music box and the prisons of the remaining two shall be brought to me. Do you understand?”

  Oscar nodded. “Yes, I understand.”

  “I’ve been waiting on you and your children for quite some time. Don’t fail me.”

  The shadowed man vanished as Oscar rolled onto his side. His conscious mind had no recollection of the task that he had been given.

  Chapter 16

  Specters and Mist

  Duncan heard the heel tap of boots walk across the floor. He assumed it was Dullahan returning to the tower, but he couldn’t be certain. What he did know was that he was in a heap of trouble. He knew he was to his breaking point and the witch was about to get what she wanted.

  How did it come to this? How did he let this happen? His thoughts dwelled on his beautiful daughter and the others in his clan that were counting on him. He was about to let them down.

  “What is it Dullahan? Why the long face?” cackled Morna, giddy at the prospect of all the magic she was about to capture.

  “The slaves have been destroyed, Mistress,” Dullahan replied. “They are on their way?”

  Morna strolled over to Duncan’s cage and smiled. “It won’t matter. The Leprechauns will be mine before they arrive.”

  “And if they are not?”

  Morna shrugged. “Then you can kill them.”

  …

  Lizzie and Rory were in the rear of the pack as Dorian and Brendan led the crusade. Biddy flew above them scouting out the path ahead.

  They had emerged from the caverns after only a brief time following the battle with the slaves and after Gorgoch had vanished. Brendan wasn’t sure if the ghost was coming back or not, but he couldn’t worry about that now. He knew that there was a good chance that the Leprechauns who were on his side stood a real chance of jumping ship. Then that would be a huge problem.

  “So, tell me about your visions?”

  Dorian’s question shook him out of his thoughts. He told her about the dream he’d had and about what he had seen in the cave. Reliving the visions made him shudder. Why had he been able to have visions? What made him special? Or maybe a better questions was what made him cursed?

  “Have you ever had a vision before that dream?”

  Brendan thought back and he realized that he had. He just didn’t recognize it for what it was. He had dreamed about his father before he had a car crash and his mother before she had died. He had seen his grandpa’s image from Vietnam even though he had never even met the man before. Little scenes like that had always been with him, only he just explained them away—like saying that he saw these things because he was tired or had a good imagination. Maybe it was something he ate or a conversation that sparked the thought? It wasn’t until his Celtic adventure that he realized that some supernatural ability was even a viable explanation to his visions. What a vacation it had turned out to be.

  “I’m glad you came with me, Brendan,” Dorian said. “I know that I doubted you at the beginning, but you have not only held your own—you’ve exceeded expectations.”

  Brendan smiled and glanced over at her. She looked tired and feverish. Her skin was pale and she was sweating, despite the chill in the forest. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine,” she lied. “Let’s just get my father back.”

  “We will. I promise you.” Brendan reached down and took her hand in his and they walked through the forest. The trees moved out of their way and Brendan knew it was because of him. He couldn’t explain it, but he was feeling stronger, more powerful.

  As the forest moved aside, Morna’s castle came into view. Brendan steeled his nerves, determined to see it through to the end.

  …

  Morna saw the group with her own eyes for the first time when they entered the clearing. They had moved through her Black Forest much faster than she had anticipated. The trees should have been doing more to slow them, but that was only a minor concern. She waved her hand through the air and the little bit of water that hung about began to shimmer. An image flashed to life. It was fuzzy at first, but soon enough she could see Duncan’s daughter and her friends. She moved the image over so the Leprechaun King could see it as well.

  “There she is, Duncan,” laughed the witch. “Your precious daughter has arrived to save you.”

  Duncan’s eyelids were heavy and he struggled to open them. He managed to peek through his eyelashes and see the image. The group he saw looked exhausted and frail. How much had they been through on his account? What horrors had they faced?

  And then he saw his daughter and his spirit lifted. His eyes opened fully and he struggled to watch. She was holding the hand of a young man that he didn’t recognize and she was apparently feeling the affects of Morna’s attack on Leprechaun magic. As heartened as he was to see her, he was equally sad to see her suffer.

  “Does she look well to you, Duncan?” Morna feigned concern. “The poor dear. Maybe you should help her. You can end her suffering by giving into me.”

  “How would that help her?” Duncan coughed and wheezed the words out. He wouldn’t be able to say anything else for a long time.

  “If you cease this senseless resistance, then I will spare your daughter from my control.” Morna gave her best smile. “The others in your clan will be mine, but your precious Dorian will be free.”

  She looked at the little, old Leprechaun to read his response. “What do you say, old friend?”

  Duncan tilted his head to see the image again. He reached out for her and the vapor dispersed taking the image away.

  “Just something to think about, but don’t take too long. The offer won’t stand.”

  …

  Gorgoch hovered in the air around the castle. He chose to leave the others because he thought he had a better chance of ending this madness faster if he was on his own. Destroying the Ruas only took a small amount of energy. He would have to admit that he froze at first. Seeing them again had surprised him, but unlike last time he could do something about it. Vaporizing the undead had given him the perfect cover to leave the group and hunt down Morna. Someone had to stop her. He had wanted to all those years ago and it looked like fate was giving him a second chance.

  …

  The fog was heavy in the air around the tower. Morna and Dullahan stood near the balcony in silence. The headless demon knew not to speak to the witch unless he was given permission. She was his master. It was she that allowed him to roam the Earth in search of souls. It would remain that way until the witch died or passed ownership on to a new master. He knew his role and he performed his job well.

  There was a glint of power in Morna’s eyes that was unmistakable. It was greed and ambition. She was going to change the world to her liking and there was nothing that was going to be done about it. She may have looked youthful on the outside, but she had the benefit of centuries of experience. Also, she was a pupil of his former master, Conchar. She knew what she was doing, and it wasn’t going to be pretty for the rest of the world.

  It surprised Dullahan to see his master’s face go from one of satisfied contemplation to one of terror. She clutched at her throat and struggled for a gasp of breath. Her eyes started to bulge as she was lifted into the air and slammed against the far wall with enough force to crack the stone. Dullahan pulled out his hatchet and searched the tower for the assailant, but there was none to be found.

  Morna was
raked up the wall and smashed into the ceiling. She sprawled against the ceiling and then tumbled through the air until she crashed into the ground. Morna rolled to her feet and thrust her arms out to the sides. A red pulse left her and domed out around the tower. A layer of fog rode the dome and was pinned against the wall. Morna twirled her arm around, and the red pulse raced around the room collecting the fog in a dizzying swirl. The red pulse collected itself at the pinnacle of the tower and shot straight down for the floor. When it hit, a ghostly mass was left unmoving as the red pulse sparked and waved like electrodes.

  “A valiant effort, Gorgoch,” croaked Morna to the still mass on the stone floor at her feet. “Pity you failed so miserably and your friends are going to either end up as my slaves or suffer a horrible, agonizing death.”

  The red magic was heavy upon Gorgoch and trapped him despite his best effort to free himself. “I won’t let you hurt them!” he declared defiantly.

  “Oh, I’m not going to hurt them. You are!”

  Morna clenched her fist at Gorgoch and the red magic squeezed in on its prisoner. He screamed at the pain. It was real and cut powerfully at his exposed soul. The red magic absorbed into his body and left him smoking and paralyzed.

  “Arise, Gorgoch,” Morna commanded. At once Gorgoch rose to an upright position. His eyes were glazed over red, and he stood patiently awaiting his master’s desire. “Go and kill your new friends.”

  Gorgoch faded into smoke and all that could be seen in the vapor were his new red eyes. When they, too, vanished, Morna looked over at Duncan and saw victory was close at hand.

  …

  “There’s the castle. So, how do we get in?” asked Rory.

  The structure was mountainous and imposing against the stormy sky. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed just as it should in any scary circumstance. The path led the group to a clearing and to a large misty moat of black water. The drawbridge was up and there was no foreseeable way in.

  “Maybe we should knock?” joked Lizzie. “What do you think, Brendan?”

  …

  The world around him faded out and he was left alone in a white nothingness. He called out for the others, but his echo was the only voice that answered him. He had never felt that alone before. Fear was creeping in on him.