by N. K. Vir
A well placed arrow pierced through the hell beast’s rib cage. It let out a horrific howl of pain before incinerating into a pile of ash. Knackers let out a joyful sound jumping up and down as the first victim of the battle fell at his feet. He shot a grateful salute to Finn who quickly acknowledged him before turning his attention back to the seemingly endless dark creatures that threatened them.
As if the doglike skeletons were not enough each of the beasts bore a rider. Annie’s eyes scanned the line of beasts and riders until she found what she sought, Giles Corey. The Giles Corey of legend was a fairy princess compared to the demon that now smiled at her across the wharf.
His hooked and pointed nose flared as he sniffed the air. His grin widened revealing black toothless gums. His beady dark eyes narrowed as they focused on her. His bony gray hand slowly drifted up towards a dripping cap that rested on top of his pointy head. Giles pulled the cap off his head and bringing it to his nose inhaled as a pointy tongue darted out of his blackened mouth to taste the moist cap. His eyes closed in rapture as he seemed to savor the reddish liquid. With a hiss and guttural command he pointed a long metal tipped finger in Annie’s direction. A cacophony of growls and howls burst forth from the demons that surrounded him. Spiked metal poles rose high in the air as the evil creatures bellowed their deafening war cry.
“My sword is begging for some more blood lads,” chuckled an eager Finn.
“As is mine,” agreed Callum.
“Aye,” Colin hollered.
Behind her Annie heard Griffin chant louder. She glanced over her shoulder to check on her two friends. Kat stood erect, her small frame flickering in and out of focus as lightning streaked across the ocean. Her eyes were tightly shut, her brow creased with concentration. Her small hand was squeezing Griffin’s larger one as she offered him support. The thought seemed ridiculous to Annie but she knew it to be true. What the human Annie could not fathom, the part of her that was hidden and bursting with power understood. Kat was an energy source, a conduit of power that had rooted itself deep within the earth and was feeding that energy to Griffin. The pair worked in perfect tandem, one supplying energy while the other transformed it and pushed it back out
A tiny hand slipped into hers and gave her a gentle squeeze. Without looking she knew her miniature defender Rian had appeared at her side. The easy in which he had breached Griffin’s protective barrier caused Annie a moment of panic.
“Only those who wish ye no harm may enter,” Knackers reassured her.
“You read minds? “ Anne asked stunned that he had answered her unspoken question.
Knackers chuckled, “Nay lass. I recognize the magick. Twas an obvious question.”
“I will let no harm come to you milady,” Rian reassured her. She found comfort in his genuine words.
“Your back is safe as well,” croaked Flick.
Annie turned to acknowledge Flick and was awestruck by the army of Ashrays that flanked him. Each ghostly water sprite had a bow drawn with a notched arrow ready to fly.
On their backs dozens of extra arrows sat awaiting a valuable target. Annie’s eyes filled with tears. Not trusting her voice she gave Flick a proud and grateful nod. His fishlike mouth drew up in what she could only assume was a smile.
“The Fomorians, the Unseelie, will regret the day they made an enemy of the Ashrays,” Flick shouted. A determined cry of “Ayes” resounded around him.
“That goes double for us eh lads?” cackled Pete as his milky blue eye winked playfully at Annie. At Pete’s side stood three mud covered beings. They jumped gleefully up and down. Their muck filled fists pumping up and down in a strange sort of war dance.
“No one touches me mistress,” Fiona swore vehemently appearing in front of Annie. She clutched a cast iron frying pan between her two plump hands ready to swing at anyone who dare to enter her small wing span.
Annie’s heart lightened as she gazed at her small band of ferocious protectors. Even Knackers had a wicked gleam in his eyes. She had done nothing to inspire such loyalty and could only hope to one day repay them for the courage they showed to her now. She wished words could thank them. She wished she was worthy of such devotion.
“For the spark of life, within us all! For the bhanphriosa!” bellowed Robert. He raised his sword and the cry of “Bhanphriosa,” was taken up by all those who were loyal to her.
The demon horde advanced in earnest, a blur of darkness as they tore across Derby Street to attack. A blinding flash of lightning struck the ground in front of the invading line momentarily blinding them. Annie traced the source of the bolt back to the armored Mandy/Caelia who quickly bowed to Annie before rushing into the fray of snarling blinded beasts.
The sound of metal on metal, of snarl against battle cry echoed over the wharf. The buzz of arrows whizzing by as they quickly found their mark reminded Annie that this was real. Nothing in her seemingly short life had prepared her for this. The metallic smell of blood assaulted her senses, but instead of being repulsed she was enthralled. She wanted a weapon, she wanted to fight, to defend and know the taste of a victory well earned.
The cry of a distant bird drew her gaze up and away from the battle. In the inky night sky she could see the shadowy silhouette of a bird, a bird of power, a bird of death and destruction waiting and watching for the right moment. It screeched down at the battle seemingly impatient for its turn to join the fray below.
As a true beast of the hunt it circled the skies searching and waiting for a weak spot. Then it would swoop down and pluck an unsuspecting dark rider and carry it high into the air. Seconds later it would come plummeting back down to the earth ending suddenly with a sickening thump.
Bright spots of light wove in and out of the horde of invaders. As the Dryads distracted and annoyed the hellish hounds that tried to snap the lights in their deadly jowls. Every time a hell hound found its eye distracted by a dancing light a mud ball wielded by Pete and his stinky brethren would temporarily blind the beast then be quickly replaced by an arrow from Flick’s ghostly archers. These tag team battle tactics continued until the band of hell hounds was reduced to a mere handful.
Finn and his massively built warriors took on the ogres and other strange and enormous beasts that had fallen from the backs of the Cu Sith. Annie could not tell who was winning and who was losing. But human fear began to settle in her chest, she felt trapped and unprepared. Others were putting their lives on the line for her.
“Not for you mortal, for me,” whispered a voice in her mind. “I am all. I am life and I am death. Here on the battle field both shall be given.”
Annie clenched her eyes and teeth shut against the voice’s reverberating laughter. A terrible scream rose above the other sounds of battle and for a moment she could not be sure it hadn’t emerged from her own throat. The scream grew in volume and power, the force of it knocking Annie back. When she ripped her eyes open they immediately focused on the source of the terrible battle cry, Duncan.
His body heaved with effort as he sucked in air to replace the force of his battle cry. His eyes seemed fierce and fiery as he searched the battle for an opponent. His eyes finally settled on a gigantic hell hound and rider. In one stride he seemed to be before the duo and locked in a miniature battle of sword swings and defensive postures. Annie watched to afraid to look away. She willed Duncan’s arm to be stronger and faster than his opponents. Her breath came in quick gulps as she kept pace with Duncan’s breath. A sword sliced through the air above his head and a muffled cry escaped her mouth as she feared it was a death blow coming to claim him. In the last instant he threw his own sword up to block the oncoming blow before quickly slashing down to split the Rider and Hell hound in two. Pivoting on his back foot he spun around to face this new backstabbing challenger. Annie’s eyes glazed over in horror and a scream threatened to burst out of her as she realized it was Giles Corey.
As Duncan and the Redcap locked weapons a cold settled inside of Annie. A fear, that instead of being paralyzing
forced her feet forward, and pulled her outside of the protective circle that had been cast around her. Voices jumbled together and called after her to stop but her mind and body would not listen as she continued to walk forward slowly towards the Redcap that threatened everyone she held dear. Although not aware the battle shifted around her as her army began encircling her trying to push back the invaders.
The Ashray archers, limited by the now outgoing tide rained down arrows in desperation. Rian poked and slashed at the ankles of any creature he could reach. Fiona wielded her frying pan with deadly accuracy beaning quite a few unsuspecting Hell Hounds. Knackers, not to be undone had teamed up with a few Dryads and began taking out some of the smaller goblins that stood in her path.
Robert sensing Annie’s direction rushed to stop her; when that failed he took up a position of defense in front of her trying to clear a path. Three words kept repeating themselves in her mind.
The sound grew louder and louder until she could not stand the volume inside her own mind. She forced the words out screaming them into the surrounding battle in an attempt to rid herself of them.
“Say my name!”
Duncan’s head snapped from the battle and settled on Annie. The bloodlust in his eyes was quickly replaced by fear as he gazed upon her. “Aine!” he shouted. “No!”
The force, the power behind the sound “an-wah” as it exploded from Duncan raced through her. Annie could feel the power, the magick that name had. It seemed to rip her in two as the sleeping voice awoke fully and tried to escape Annie’s body. It was filled with wrath and vengeance. The goddess she had been harboring had awoken fully and now was prepared to wield the power given to her by the utterance of a name. Annie was aware of everything and nothing as her human consciousness fell away and gave up in surrender to the goddess Aine.
White light radiated away from the goddess as she bellowed in rage and called for her other faces to join the fray and destroy. The Unseelie cowered in the bright light as night suddenly became day. Their black forms crumpling and burning as the light touched their skin turning them into ash instantly. The Beansidhe stopped their wailing and began sifting through the piles of ash. Seelie warriors lowered their weapons as the battle, for the moment appeared to have been won.
Griffin exhausted from the magick he had spent crumpled to the ground and was followed by Kat. Robert took a few rushed steps away from the goddess in human form falling onto his backside. The surviving Fae fell to their knees under the power of their bhanphriosa. Finn and his warriors covered their sensitive eyes turning their heads away from the power of a goddess near her full power potential. Only one set of eyes dared to look at the shining vision of the life spark.
Duncan’s eyes filled with unshed tears as the agony of constant pain was finally sucked out of him. His body seemed to deflate as he fell to his knees. His sword which he still gripped tightly had skewered the body of Giles Corey. The Redcap, who clung to the last few seconds of life, was determined to win in death. He smiled cruelly at the human goddess, as the blood from hundreds of innocent victims began seeping from his wounds. The light in his black eyes began to dim but still he smiled; his lips twitching as they began to whisper out a final curse.
“He still comes. You have stopped nothing here tonight.”
Duncan refused to look; his eyes remaining locked on Aine the radiant goddess in full human form. Her own brilliant eyes locked on to him the faintest smile upon her lips. The chaos and destruction that surrounded them faded into the background. She took a step towards him one long pale arm out stretched reaching for him. As he responded, reaching out with his own blood soaked arm a rattled laugh escaped from the impaled Redcap momentarily breaking the spell. Duncan released his grip from his sword and watched the Red cap fall to the ground.
“Help me,” pleaded the voice of Annie.
Duncan’s head snapped back to Annie in time to see her fold in half as an agonizing pain ripped through her. Her knees began to shake and finally gave out sending her to the ground, all signs of the radiant Aine gone. Duncan reached out for her as blinding soundless white light erupted driving every living creature to the ground. The shock wave left Duncan momentarily stunned and his brain tried to remain alert. Another new and powerful threat had entered the battlefield and at the moment he was powerless. He tried reaching out for his sword but his limbs as well as his body remained paralyzed. Only his eyes seemed to obey his will and it was the one organ he wished in that moment would not work.
The dark figure crouched down over Annie and began softly whispering and lightly caressing one pale exposed cheek. Duncan’s ears strained to make out the words as his mind screamed and begged his body to move. His throat struggled to make a sound his breathing becoming labored with the effort.
“That is enough!” Shouted Caelia “You have no claim here, be gone!” She commanded.
Duncan’s eyes moved following the direction of her voice. An armor plated boot stepped into his line of vision. Although he could not see her clearly she appeared to be shielding him from this new unnamed threat. At first the figure ignored her and kept its attention focused on Annie’s motionless body.
“You need to recover quickly,” Caelia whispered down to him.
“The Faeriedae will stay where I put him,” the figure spoke his attention never wavering from Annie. “And you will not forget to whom you owe your allegiance betrayer.”
At his words Caelia dropped to her knees in front of Duncan. The dark figure stood and slowly began to circle them. Duncan listened only his eyes had found their way back to Annie’s motionless body. Her skin had grown pale before his eyes like a dream that never existed. His internal monster raged clawing at the invisible cage this dark enchanter had imprisoned him in.
“I have been reminded of whom I serve,” Caelia said struggling to say each word.
Duncan continued to struggle and managed to make his sword hand twitch. Caelia appeared to notice and continued to speak. Duncan allowed all of his anger to fuel his muscles with life.
“Good,” acknowledged the figure.
Duncan paused in his struggle. That voice awakened a memory. He knew that voice. A sense of relief washed over him as he knew, finally and with certainty that the Son of Lir had not been the hand that had orchestrated his daughter’s kidnapping. His relief did not last long as he felt his body becoming light, like it was floating off the ground.
It took his mind a few precious moments to realize that he was indeed being lifted off the ground. The darkly cloaked figure had effortlessly lifted him. His head lolled forward. With all of the strength that remained in his body he willed to his one hand hoping and praying that it would be enough when the time came.
“I am sorry if I fail,” Caelia said softly, whether to him or the cloaked figure Duncan could not be sure.
“Now we shall end this. The time has come to destroy this thing,” he said giving Duncan a shake. “To think he ever thought of taking my place in her heart, the weak pathetic fool!”
Suddenly Duncan was flying through the air. His body hit the ground with a loud thud jarring his body into recovering some of its lost sensation. He instantly felt pain radiate out from his core and race screaming into every cell in his body. He accepted the pain basking in being able to feel. Pain was something he could use and feed off of. He swallowed past the sudden onslaught of sensation his body was feeling and forced his throat to work for his voice.
“You have me at a disadvantage. To whom do I correct that she was always and will always be mine?” he questioned as each word was painfully pushed out.
The figure laughed. It was the genuine laugh of a man who found amusement from a joke and not that of someone who had lost his mind. Duncan had hoped he was dealing with an enchanter who had gone mad and not one who still retained all his faculties.
“Why would she want a mortal when she could have a God,” he said stripping away the dark cloak that had hidden him.
Duncan remained unfazed. His
dealings with the Seelie court had left him with little use for the so called “Gods” of the Otherworld, and this fair haired man before him paled in comparison to others in the court. “Should I know thee?” he asked.
The man laughed again, “I have existed on the outskirts of your court. But my name is still mentioned from time to time. I would not expect someone as lowly as you to recognize your High King.”
“My High King I know well,” Duncan responded. He hoped to keep the Fae man talking. He was beginning to regain feeling and strength as his body began to regenerate after the magickal shock it had endured. He needed more time.
“That is a false king,” the man hissed back.
Duncan kept the man’s concentration focused on him as his body began to cool from the painful impact with the ground. Unwilling to give away his returning strength he feigned weakness as he fumbled like a weak and beat man trying to regain his feet. The ruse appeared to work as the unidentified High King laughed again at him.
“This is the greatest warrior in the Sidhe army? Well then my court will easily over take the weakening Seelie’s if this is the best they can muster,” the man said seemingly speaking to himself.
“Revelation,” Duncan thought. “Bres,” he said aloud.
“The one and only High King of Tara, sacred seat of the Sidhe,” he said with a proud boastful bow.
Bres at one time was indeed the High King of the Sidhe; he was deposed when his cruelty and self-serving attitude became apparent to the other members of the royal court. He along with his supporters were thrown out of the Otherworld and banished centuries before Duncan’s own mortal birth. No one spoke of Bres. Speaking his name resulted in instant punishment. The Seelie had always feared a revolt from those few Sidhe who remained loyal to the original High King. For the moment it appeared as though that fear was indeed well founded.