Underground Druid_A New Adult Urban Fantasy Novel

by M. D. Massey

“How long were you posing as her?” I asked.

  “Oh, on and off for some time now,” she replied. “I had to play it safe, in order to avoid arousing Maeve’s suspicions. Siobhan’s mind was pliable enough for me to leave her in place during my absences, although eventually Maeve figured it out. Speaking of whom, you really shouldn’t trust her, you know. Maeve isn’t even her real name. But that’s all a moot point now, considering your current precipitous situation.”

  I whispered sidebar-style to Crowley. “Can you find us a way out of here?”

  “Oh, there’s no escape, dear. Didn’t Crowley tell you? The only way in and out of that room is via magical portal.”

  Sabine drew her sword and shouted her response. “Why don’t you come back and face us, bitch? Scared?”

  “Hardly, child. I intend to keep throwing my pets at you until you’re overwhelmed, or until Colin tires and shifts back into his human form. At which point I’ll place you all under my spell again, remove the Eye and the Treasures from Colin’s possession, and use them to wrest control of the gateway from Maeve. Once I’m in possession of her demesne, I’ll use it to stage attacks on the other supernatural territories… at least, those who haven’t made alliances with me.”

  “Crowley, any ideas?” I asked.

  “Unfortunately, no. Fuamnach speaks the truth. This room is inescapable except via portal.”

  I looked around the place, and realized for the first time that there were no doors save the one that led to the smaller chamber. “Fuck it, then. I’m going to blast us a way out of here.”

  I was about to go Cyclops on a nearby wall when Sabine grabbed my arm. “Um, Colin? You might want to hold off on that plan. Fuamnach’s pets have arrived, and they don’t look friendly.”

  19

  I spun around, and my jaw hit the floor.

  “What the actual hell are those?”

  Three portals had opened around the room at three of the four cardinal directions, each equidistant from us and each other. A motley assortment of incredibly grotesque creatures emerged from them.

  Some looked similar to me in my current Fomorian form—humanoid, but deformed and twisted. Others looked like the Creature from the Black Lagoon, with dark scaly skin, webbed feet and hands, and spiny fins running down their backs. There were a couple of fachen—the one-legged, single-armed giants from Irish legend—and several anthropomorphic spider-like creatures that crawled on their bellies. Others resembled trolls or goblins, with rubbery, hairless skin, black eyes, and fingers that ended in long, sharp claws. There were men with canine heads, tiny red imps, and more, in a seemingly endless variety of freaks and aberrations.

  Fuamnach’s voice echoed around us. “As I mentioned earlier, I’ve long had a penchant for using magic to enhance the human physiology. You’d be amazed at what traits are lying dormant, just under the surface and waiting for the right magical nudge to emerge.

  “And, Colin, you might be surprised to find that you’re not the only human with latent Fomorian genes in their genetic make-up. Oh, certainly none of my creations are quite as majestic as you. However, they are perfectly suited to serve as shock troops for our impending attack on Maeve’s gateway.”

  Well, this blows, I thought, mentally scrambling for a way out of the situation.

  I turned to Crowley and Sabine. “Here’s the plan. Crowley, you do whatever it takes to keep one of those portals open. Sabine, you watch his back, and I’ll clear a path. As soon as I do, head through that portal. I’ll be right behind you, making sure nothing follows us. Go!”

  Eye, get ready to burn us a path.

  Crowley began chanting and making arcane gestures with his hands. Several strands of shadow spun into being around him and whipped across the room to the nearest portal. The wizard’s shadow arms grasped the edges of the portal like clawed tentacles, holding it open as the other portals snapped shut.

  Alright, Eye. You cut loose, and let’s sweep a path through this rabble.

  -On your command.-

  Now!

  I opened my eyes wide, directing the Eye’s magic heat vision at Fuamnach’s freaks. My eyesight lasted long enough for me to see the first creature cut in two—a fachen that had stood out from the crowd due to its sheer size. Then, they charged us all at once, and I began sweeping my head left and right as my vision faded to black.

  The pain I felt as my eyes boiled and burst in their sockets was excruciating, but I kept it up. The Eye told me where to point, and I did as it suggested.

  -That has disposed of approximately fifty percent of the Fomorian-human hybrids Fuamnach portaled into the chamber with us. The rest are sufficiently cowed to allow for our escape.-

  I felt someone grab my hand as Sabine shouted in my ear. “That’s enough, Colin. C’mon, Crowley can’t hold that thing open much longer.”

  I felt her pulling on my hand, and followed her as best I could, stumbling over what I assumed were corpses and body parts.

  “Stop,” Sabine commanded. “Now, pick your foot up and step forward.”

  “Where?” I was worried I’d step wrong and lose a foot; clumsiness and portals didn’t mix. The edges of magical portals were notoriously unstable, and prone to clipping stray pieces of clothing or even limbs off, if you were so unlucky. One magician was said to have met his demise when he stepped through a portal and slipped. He fell backward with his head sticking out the portal, and snikt—instant headless magician.

  “Right there, you clown!”

  “Directions, Sabine! I’m blind right now, if you hadn’t noticed.”

  Crowley’s spoke from nearby, his voice strained. “I can’t hold this open much longer, and Mother’s shock troops are getting restless!”

  “Oh, you big baby.” She shoved me from behind, and I tumbled forward. Concerned that I might clip the edges of the portal, I turned my fall into an awkward shoulder roll, coming to a stop in a heap on the ground. I had no idea where I was, but the floor was cold, damp, and hard.

  I heard light footsteps next to me, and Sabine’s voice. “Crowley, get your ass in gear already!”

  “Coming,” he said, although his voice was muffled. I heard more footsteps, followed by the sound of a portal closing with a soft pop.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “Hmm… it appears we’re in a dungeon of some kind. Perhaps a section I haven’t seen before.”

  “I thought you knew this place like the back of your hand?”

  “The parts I was allowed to see, yes. This place is massive, if you hadn’t noticed. And Fuamnach hid much of her work from me. I had no idea she was building an army.”

  “Those things—they used to be human children, didn’t they?” I asked as I sat up.

  Crowley’s voice was solemn. “I believe so, yes.”

  “Damn.” I supposed there was no saving them, but knowing that didn’t do much to blunt the guilt I felt at slaughtering them. They were victims, too.

  “This is all fascinating,” Sabine said. “But I think the more important question is whether or not Crowley knows a way out of here.”

  “Well, I haven’t been to this section of the dungeons, but they’re bound to be connected to the rest of the tunnels under the palace. If we just keep working our way to the lower levels, eventually we’ll run into a section that’s familiar to me.”

  “Down it is, then,” the fae girl said. “Colin, how are your eyes?”

  “I’ll get a little eyesight back in a few minutes. Until then, I’m going to need some help.”

  “Alright. Crowley, you navigate, and I’ll lead Mr. Magoo over here.”

  “Huh?” The confusion in the wizard’s voice was evident.

  “Damn, you were deprived as a child.” I stood up and held out my hand. “Alright, Sabine… lead the way.”

  I managed to stay in my Fomorian form long enough to restore part of my eyesight. Things were still blurry, but it was better than complete blindness. We found our way down to the sewers and made a beeline for
the exit, with Fuamnach’s freak army in hot pursuit.

  We exited the sewer tunnels through the grated opening at the foot of the cliff, at the same spot we’d entered them hours before. Or perhaps it had been days ago—time was always a fluid thing here in Underhill. Crowley collapsed a few passages behind us as we fled, but he said our pursuers would just find another way around.

  “We have to make it to Peg Powler’s lands,” he said. “She’ll take any invasion of her demesne by Fuamnach’s troops as a direct affront, and act accordingly.”

  “I thought Peg worked for Fuamnach,” I said.

  “Not quite. It’s more like they have a truce. Fuamnach is certainly the more ancient and powerful of the two, but make no mistake, Peg is not to be trifled with in her own lands.”

  “And you think she’ll grant us safe passage?” Sabine asked.

  “We had a deal,” the wizard said simply. “Plus, she doesn’t care for Mother much.”

  “You keep calling Fuamnach that, but it doesn’t seem like she was much of a mother to you,” I remarked.

  “It’s habit, and nothing more,” he said. “And perhaps one I should learn to break soon, even though she was the closest thing I had to a parent.”

  “Not the Dark Druid?”

  “No, never him. He was my teacher, but his teaching methods were cruel and unforgiving. I never enjoyed my time with him, and would welcome his passing.”

  “Sounds like it sucked for you as a kid,” Sabine said.

  “It was unpleasant.” Crowley’s answer was short, his voice sharp. It was obvious he wanted to change the subject.

  “I hear someone behind us—lots of someones,” I said. It sounded like Fuamnach’s freaks had found a way around the cave-ins.

  “Come, it’s not far now,” Crowley said.

  I was still stumbling around with blurry vision, and Sabine had to help me down the trail. But even with partial eyesight, I could see that the path we’d taken from Peg’s island was gone.

  “Ah, hell,” I muttered. “Looks like we got double-crossed.”

  Crowley tsked. “Not likely. Just wait.”

  “We don’t have time, Crowley,” Sabine said. “Those things are right behind us, and I doubt that Colin can shift yet.”

  “You doubt right,” I said. “I need more time to recharge—maybe a half-hour or so.”

  Crowley held up a hand. “Sshh. Listen.”

  I heard the hoots and strange catcalls of Fuamnach’s experiments in the distance, but not much else. They’d obviously picked up our trail, and were headed our way.

  “All I hear is the crazies behind us. What are we listening for, Crowley?”

  He pointed out across the lake. “That.”

  I strained to see what he was pointing at, but couldn’t quite make it out. All I saw was a huge something rising up from the water a hundred yards distant. It easily rose twenty-five feet from the water, and let out a mighty foghorn roar.

  “What the hell is that thing?” I asked.

  Sabine grabbed my arm. “Um, Colin? That’s a cross between a dragon and a turtle, and it’s headed this way.”

  “Crowley, is that Peg’s pet turtle? Because I don’t remember it being that big.”

  “It’s our ride,” Crowley said. “Apparently, Peg has been busy in our absence. I wondered what she wanted the Dagda’s broth for—now it’s quite obvious.”

  “Don’t tell me… Miracle-Gro for turtles?”

  “Indeed,” he said, the admiration in his voice evident. “The beast is easily three times as large now.”

  “And it’s a dragon,” Sabine said. “Sort of.”

  “As long as it gets us across this lake without eating us, and before Fuamnach’s experiments get here.” The huge blurry outline got more distinct as it drew closer to shore. Soon, it towered over us. If I had to guess, its shell was now easily the length of a football field. Adding the tail and head, it was half-again as long.

  It looked like Fuamnach wasn’t the only one who could grow monsters.

  A huge wake preceded the dragon-turtle as it neared the strip of shoreline where we stood. The wave splashed up over the edge of the lake, forcing us to step back several feet to avoid getting soaked. The monster turned away from us as it reached the shore, slapping its tail down on dry land with a whoomp that shook the earth.

  “I believe that’s our cue to get on,” Crowley said.

  Sabine glanced over her shoulder. “And just in time—run!”

  Several murky, indistinct forms of various colors and sizes ran from the cover of the swamp vegetation around the clearing behind us. With no choice but to take Sabine’s advice, I ran toward the huge blurry mound ahead. Crowley beat us there, and was climbing up the creature’s shell by the time we reached the tail. Sabine climbed up in front of me and pulled me up, and once I was on the tail it was just a matter of scrambling higher to reach the apex of the turtle’s back.

  Within moments, all three of us were safely nestled in the valley-like depressions between the protective plates of the dragon-turtle’s carapace. The beast swept its tail across the shore, knocking a half-dozen of Fuamnach’s creatures into the swampy lake. Based on the screams and splashes, it appeared that the dragon-turtle’s smaller siblings were making short work of the unlucky creatures who had been swept into the lake’s murky depths.

  Even so, some of Fuamnach’s troops seemed determined to continue their pursuit. As we made our way across the lake, I heard the distinct sounds of falling trees.

  “Sabine, what’s happening?”

  “It looks like Fuamnach’s giants are building a raft.”

  “Peachy,” I muttered.

  “Not for long, I think.” Crowley stood nearby, leaning on a spiny protuberance sticking out of the dragon-turtle’s shell. “Watch.”

  The dragon-turtle craned its neck around to face the creatures along the shore. Its head was huge, and although I couldn’t see very well, I was close enough to witness it belch a yellow-green cone of gas at Fuamnach’s troops. The gas enveloped the shoreline completely, followed by a chorus of choking coughs and screams.

  “Did what I think just happened, really happen?” I asked.

  “Wow,” Sabine said. “Yeah, most definitely. Poison breath weapon for the win, and it looks like Peg’s dragon-turtle rolled a twenty. I can’t see the results because the fog is still obscuring the view, but I doubt there’s much left of Fuamnach’s shock troops.”

  “At least, not the ones pursuing us,” Crowley stated. “She will have many more in reserve. Fuamnach has spent centuries planning this, and likely has thousands of those creatures ready to assault Maeve’s demesne.”

  I leaned back against the dragon-turtle’s shell, and considered the potential repercussions. “Think they could make it past her guardians?”

  “In great numbers, yes—and I believe that’s the point.”

  “They’d still have to make it out of Maeve’s house,” Sabine countered. “And I’m pretty sure that’s no mean feat.”

  I resisted the urge to rub my eyes. They always itched before they were fully healed. “Still, I don’t want to run into those things on our way out of Underhill. And I sure don’t want them anywhere near the children. Crowley, what’s the quickest way back to the summer lands from here?”

  “Most definitely by portal. Peg can do it, but knowing our predicament, she will bargain hard with us.”

  “Wait a minute,” Sabine said. “Can’t Fuamnach just portal her troops to the gateway back to earth?”

  Crowley shook his head. “No, she can’t. The Dagda controls those lands, and he’d simply close the portals as she opened them. She’ll be forced to march her troops through his lands, forcing a confrontation with the other Tuatha.”

  “The Dagda told me that The Morrigan was preparing to wage war against Fuamnach,” I said. “Maybe that’s what she’s doing, preventing Fuamnach from marching her creatures to the portal.”

  Sabine scratched her leg, peeling something
dark and squirmy away from her skin and tossing it into the water. “It sounds like we’re going to end up in the middle of a war, if we don’t get back to earth soon. And you know Fuamnach is going to pull out all the stops to keep you from getting back with the Treasures.”

  I turned to the shadow wizard. “Crowley, what do you think it’ll cost us to get Peg’s help?”

  “You needn’t concern yourself with that. I’ve a feeling she’ll want another helping of the Cauldron’s brew, to grow more of these dragon-turtles. However, she may also try to convince you to give up one of the Treasures. No matter what, do not yield to her demands. Eventually, she’ll cave and settle for lesser recompense.”

  “Good to know. Sabine, once we get back, you know the drill. You get the kids through, convince Maeve to send them somewhere safe, and then come back and get me.”

  Sabine’s voice was low and strained as she replied. “I hope you’re not thinking of double-crossing her, Colin. It would be a mistake.”

  “Trust me, I have a plan.”

  “And that’s what worries me,” she said.

  20

  Peg’s price for providing a portal back to the summer lands was three bowls of the Dagda’s magic stew, plus a promise of a future favor from each of us. It took us quite a while to hammer out all the caveats and stipulations, details that would ensure none of us would be forced to act against our own interests in fulfilling the bargain. Still, I was uneasy with the deal we’d agreed to.

  After the pact had been made, Peg extended one gnarled, algae-ridden hand from behind the burlap drapes that covered the door to her shack. I realized she’d never revealed herself to us, the whole time I’d been in her presence. Crowley said she merely valued her privacy, but I personally suspected she was ashamed of her appearance.

  Legend had it that she’d once been a beautiful fae maiden who was spurned by a lover. Overcome by grief and the bitter need for vengeance, she either drowned herself and came back as a water hag, or she became that way over time. Regardless of the validity of any origin story, I for one was glad we didn’t have to see her face, because she was supposed to be hideous.