Emily's House (The Akasha Chronicles)

by Wright, Natalie

  The sprite said nothing but bowed slightly. In a small voice, that he had to strain a bit to hear she said, “I am Macha, of the Dark Sídhe. I come to offer my assistance to the one who has slain the last High King of Tara.”

  Dughall was speechless. At last he said, “Why would you offer to help me? You are a faerie, and I seek to take over your country. Why help me in this plot?” he asked.

  “Dughall, there are many Sídhe in this fair land. Some are what the humans call ‘Fair Sídhe’. Others are ‘Dark Sídhe’, like me. Before humans came, we were in all corners of this isle. We of the Dark Sídhe have never forgiven the humans for taking our lands from us and driving us to the knolls, mounds, trees, and underground.”

  “Why do you think I would be different? I can tell you that I detest most humans, and I’m not inclined to enjoy the company of bestial creatures any better. Your high pitched voice is already grating me.” Dughall eyed his sword as he considered wielding it.

  “We believe that you will treat us differently because we have something that you need,” Macha steadily replied.

  Dughall stopped eyeing his sword for the moment. “Tell me why I shouldn’t swat you down right now.”

  “We know why you are here and that your task is not yet complete,” Macha said.

  Dughall raised his dark eyebrows. “What task is that?” he questioned.

  “You seek the golden ring, the torc of the Order of Brighid,” replied Macha.

  She had his complete attention. Dughall’s sword dropped to his side. “Continue.”

  “You seek the power that lies within the Grove. But there are potent spells and enchantments that protect the Grove. You may break through – you have men to spare. But there are also Fair Sídhe, allies to the Order. Their magic is formidable, and they are loyal to the High Priestess and the goddess. You will need our assistance even to find the Grove, and once there, you will need our help to get inside.”

  “Let’s assume that you are right – that I need you. What do you want in return?”

  “The Dark Sídhe will be your allies and protect you and your lands from your enemies. In exchange, we will be equal to the humans that live here and have our own lands.”

  Dughall thought for a moment and again eyed his sword. He didn’t know if he could trust this creature. Perhaps it had been sent by the High Priestess as a decoy.

  On the other hand, Macha confirmed what Cormac had told him. And if it was true, the force of his armies may not be enough to obtain the object of his desire. He may need the magic of this detestable creature.

  “You may join me in this quest,” he said finally. “But know this Macha, if you or any of your kind betrays me, you won’t be running to the mounds or forests. Your faerie blood will trickle into the roots of your beloved trees, and it will be the end of your kind.”

  Macha simply nodded her head in understanding and took leave of Dughall as quickly as she came. Where she went he didn’t know and didn’t truly care. He may keep his word to her, he may not. It would depend on his mood.

  He lay on his bed of blankets and lamb’s wool and grinned widely. He couldn’t believe his unexpected luck. This was going better than he planned. It wouldn’t be long now. He would hold in his hands the key to his deepest desire.

  9. March To The Sacred Grove

  Despite the fact that Saorla redoubled all of the spells and enchantments protecting the location of the Sacred Grove, with the help of Macha and the other Dark Sídhe, Dughall was able to find it.

  There were several skirmishes along the way between the Fair Sídhe and the Dark Sídhe. Dughall and his men stood almost speechless as small, brightly dressed faeries flew out of trees, mounds and woods, their wings glistening in the sun, and attacked the Dark Sídhe that were traveling with Dughall and his men. The Dark Sídhe, full of pent up venom and anger, dispatched their attackers quickly and with ease. After a few hours, there were no more surprise attacks by the Fair Sídhe, who apparently decided to give up rather than be exterminated.

  At the suggestion of Macha, Dughall ordered two of his men to go forward as scouts as the rest pulled back. After two hours, one of the soldiers stumbled back to camp, the other soldier nowhere in sight.

  “What happened?” Dughall asked the hapless man.

  The soldier just stared vacantly and said over and over, “I am your servant, my love.”

  Dughall quickly lost patience with the man who had clearly lost his mind. He paced the floor and tired of hearing the soldier prattle on and on, he pulled his sword and in one swift stroke, cut off the man’s head.

  “Now he’ll stop that prattling,” he said. The soldier’s head rolled a few yards then came to a stop just feet in front of Dughall.

  “Sire,” Macha said in her soft but brittle voice. “He has been kissed by the Lianhan Sídhe, Sire,” she said.

  “Creature, explain,” Dughall barked.

  “She is a powerful spirit. Lianhan Sídhe is quite beautiful to human men and irresistible. She lures men to her then ‘kisses’ them. But her kiss removes most of their life essence, and they become addle brained or kill themselves.”

  “So this hapless soul was already dead,” Dughall said flatly as he nudged the now lifeless head lying on the ground with his toe. “This is all very interesting, Macha, but how can we defeat this creature?”

  “I don’t know, Sire,” replied Macha.

  Dughall spun toward her, his eyes ablaze with fury. “You drag me all the way out into this wood claiming you can gain entry to the Grove, and now you’re telling me that you don’t know how to defeat this creature that stands in my way?” Dughall bellowed.

  “Sire, no one that has ever seen the Lianhan Sídhe has been able to say what they saw. No one knows exactly how she holds sway over men. We must send another scout, but this time, be close enough to see what happens,” offered Macha.

  Dughall’s face softened ever so slightly. “You mean send another of my men as bait, is that what you are suggesting?” asked Dughall.

  “Well, yes, Sire. I think it is the only way,” answered Macha.

  “Yes, Macha, I think you are right. You are a detestable little creature, aren’t you? So devoid of feelings for human life. I do believe I’m starting to like you.”

  Macha brightened a bit, and her wings became an iridescent coral color as she received Dughall’s compliment. Together they came up with a plan for finding at last the secret of the power of the Lianhan Sídhe.

  10. Lianhan Sídhe

  Dughall and Macha were in position. They followed a safe distance behind the soldier who they tapped to be the scout then scampered to the top of a small hill where they would have a view. The poor soldier had seen his mate come back from the last scouting trip addle minded and knew that the other had not been seen again. His legs quaked as he entered the area around the Sacred Grove.

  As Saorla had observed all those years ago, when one got close to the entry of the Grove all was still. No breeze. No birds chirping. No sound or movement at all. As the soldier approached, the stillness made him quake even more. The preternatural quiet made the area around the Grove eerie.

  Suddenly the scout felt a slight breeze and a chill come over him. He turned and saw before him the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her hair fell around her shoulders in waves of gold. Her eyes were the brightest blue – like two radiant sapphires. Her full, rosy lips were parted slightly. But it was perhaps her skin that was the most striking. Pale and luminescent, it almost glowed. The soldier was so immediately enthralled with her beauty that he didn’t notice that she was, in fact, hovering before him, held aloft by her large faerie wings.

  From afar Dughall and Macha watched the whole scene. They saw the soldier immediately enraptured by the beautiful creature. They saw the scout move closer with a wide smile on his lips. He held out his hands to her, and she held out her hands to him. Then they heard, very faintly, music. She was singing to him. The Lianhan Sídhe sang to the soldier, and it was the so
ng that lured him ever closer to her.

  Macha told Dughall, “Don’t listen! Muffle the sound so you can’t hear her song.”

  Dughall did as she said and wrapped a cloth from his saddlebag around his ears. Now he could see the Lianhan Sídhe but could not hear her beautiful song.

  What he saw was totally unexpected. The Lianhan Sídhe smiled in a most beguiling way and continued to sing her song and lure the man closer. At last, their hands touched. She bent to kiss him, and he offered his lips to her. As soon as their lips touched, Dughall could see the man’s body go rigid, and for a split second, he opened his eyes wide in terror.

  The Lianhan Sídhe was no longer the beauty that had lured him to her. Suddenly her eyes were as red as flame. Her fingers ended in sharp talons rather than neatly trimmed nails. Her wings, seconds ago light and glittery were now the scaly wings of a dragon. Her body and face, previously all light and luminous, were now covered in reptilian scales, her lovely blue billowy dress replaced with rags.

  As she drained the life force from the man, his eyes became vacant. The Lianhan Sídhe’s beautiful song was replaced with a loud cackling. The life force of the man seemed to have made her even larger and more powerful. As quickly as she had appeared she disappeared with a loud crack as she flapped her large dragon wings and disappeared into the waning light of day.

  Dughall and Macha stared in wonder at the spot where the Lianhan Sídhe had just been. It was Macha who broke the silence.

  “You know Sire, legend says that if a man can resist her kiss, that she is defeated and doomed to wander the earth as a ghost for a thousand years, unable to take any more victims.”

  “You mean, if I can resist her. . .”

  “If you can resist her, you will defeat her. She will be powerless,” Macha replied.

  Dughall’s lips curled into a sneer. He had discovered the secret of the Lianhan Sídhe, a secret unknown to any man in history until now. He would defeat her. She would not stand between him and that which he most desired.

  “You know Sire, that ordinary cloth will not be enough when you get close to her. Her song will pierce right through it,” said Macha.

  Dughall had not thought of that. He would need something stronger.

  “Do you have magic that will protect me?” he asked.

  “No Sire, but I know of one who does,” Macha answered.

  Macha summoned Cian, a Dark Wizard. She told Cian that Dughall needed a potion that would render his ears useless for a time.

  Cian eyed both Macha and Dughall warily. “I owe you nothing, Macha. Why should I do this for you or for this one?” he said as he gestured toward Dughall.

  At that Dughall quickly grabbed the old wizard and put his sword to the man’s throat. “This, my dear man, is why you should help me,” Dughall hissed.

  “Ah, you are all about might then. You fighting men, you think that piece of metal makes you superior,” the wizard replied.

  “Who is in a position to die now, old man? You will help me, or I’ll run you through.”

  The wizard had been caught off guard and was not in a position to use his magic to defend himself. He found himself with no choice but to give into Dughall’s demands.

  “It appears I have no choice but to aid you, oh dark one,” Cian croaked. Dughall released him, and the old wizard stumbled. “I’ll need time to gather the proper ingredients,” Cian said as he rubbed his throat where Dughall’s sword had been.

  “It grows dark. You shall have the evening, but no more. I want your potion at first dawn old man.”

  Cian went to the woods surrounding their camp and worked feverishly through the night with only the light of a torch to help him find the forest herbs and fungus that he needed for his potion. By dawn, the potion was ready for Dughall.

  “Here it is, as you demanded,” Cian said as he handed the tankard to Dughall. “Drink this – all of it – and you will not have use of your hearing.”

  “I won’t be able to hear anything old man?” asked Dughall.

  “You will not be able to hear the loudest thunder,” replied Cian.

  “And it is only temporary, right?”

  “It will wear off after a few hours,” said Cian.

  Dughall took the cup and drank the potion down quickly. He gagged a little because of the vile taste. Then began an excruciating pain in his ears and a rushing of blood through all his veins. He held his ears and fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

  “I’ll kill you old man,” Dughall bellowed as he held his ears. He would have too if he could get up and to his sword. But soon the pain began to subside, and as it did, he realized that he could not hear. He clapped and then spoke and then let out a loud yell but could hear nothing. He smiled wide, a most unsettling sight.

  “My hearing will return, old man, as you said, yes?” asked Dughall. The old wizard nodded yes.

  Macha accompanied Dughall to their spot within sight of the Grove. Cian stayed behind as being a human man, he was susceptible to the Lianhan Sídhe’s song.

  As Dughall approached, he felt the same stillness that the soldier had felt followed by the same slight breeze and sudden chill in the air. Then she appeared. Even more beautiful up close. He felt drawn to her even though he couldn’t hear her song. For a moment, he was worried, an emotion not common for Dughall to feel. He was drawn to her. Stupid Macha! He had been tricked.

  But as he got closer he saw her lips moving. She must be singing, but he couldn’t hear her. Her beauty drew him to her, and he wanted to kiss her lips, but he kept his wits about him. He knew that giving into this one desire would doom his quest so he resisted her. Just as she bent closer with the softest rose petal lips to kiss him, Dughall shouted at the Lianhan Sídhe, “I rebuke thee! You do not charm me, woman. Be off with you.”

  Just as her lips were about to meet his, as she heard these words, her beautiful visage changed instantly. Her eyes were again as red as flame, her hands talons, and her wings like a dragon’s. She screeched loud and piercing for just a moment then fell silent. She was still visible but became as a ghost, there but barely. Her ghostlike image wandered off into the wood, her face sallow and her mouth open as if in a scream.

  Dughall still could not hear so he didn’t know that no sound came from her horrible open mouth. But he knew that he had defeated Lianhan Sídhe and that she would no longer stand between him and the torc.

  11. Battle For The Sacred Grove

  “Now what Macha?” asked Dughall.

  “We must find the gate,” she replied.

  “There's nothing here but vines and trees,” replied one of the soldiers.

  “It’s an enchantment you imbecile,” sneered Dughall. “All of you, earn your keep and start hacking away at these plants,” he barked.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” interrupted Macha.

  “And pray tell, why not dear Macha?” asked Dughall.

  “Because those vines and trees aren’t ordinary.”

  “Yes, yes, they are under a spell. I know. So we’ll just break that spell,” said Dughall.

  “It’s not just a spell. The vines and trees – they are alive. They will defend themselves. You can’t break the spell by cutting them,” said Macha.

  “Macha, I have over one hundred men here with axes, maces, swords and hatchets. These spindly vines are no match for the magic of steel. You heard me then, CUT!”

  The soldiers hesitated. After seeing one of their own come back from the Lianhan Sídhe addle minded, they were becoming believers of the magic of the Sacred Grove. But their fear of Dughall was greater, so they began to hack away at the vines and trees thickly covering all of the walls and gate to the Sacred Grove.

  At first it seemed to work but then, suddenly, the vines grew thicker. The trees, too, seemed to grow larger and bigger. Before they could see it coming, vines wrapped themselves around the men, axes and hatchets and all. Within minutes, all of the soldiers near the thicket were totally engulfed, swallowed alive by the li
ving thicket. Their screams were loud and agonizing, all sounding at the same time. Even Macha covered her ears.

  As their screams faded, the vines and trees returned to normal. The remaining soldiers stood still in their tracks, dumbfounded by what had just happened.

  Dughall was beyond angry.

  “Okay Macha, we’ll do it your way. What do you suggest now for getting through these evil branches?” asked Dughall.

  “We need a spell to break the spell,” she said.

  “And so say it. Say the spell,” Dughall hissed.

  “I don’t know it,” Macha replied.

  Dughall’s hand moved to his sword, and he was just about to slice the little faerie in half when the Dark Wizard stepped forward. “I can recite the spell,” he said. “But it will take time to gather the information needed to determine the right spell.”

  “You have five minutes,” snarled Dughall.

  Cian walked the perimeter of the thicket. He picked up leaves that had fallen and rubbed them between his fingers and tasted them. He held them to his ears. Then he stood quietly along the perimeter with his eyes closed for several minutes.

  Dughall was losing his patience. “Your time is up old man. Say a spell now or so help me, I’ll run you through.”

  “If you live a thousand lifetimes, it won’t be enough for you to learn patience Dughall,” Cian replied. Then he closed his eyes and circled his arms wide and held them above him as he cited the incantation.

  “Holy Hawthorne, oak and ash

  Twisted and gnarled, wound tight

  Pray let these servants of Brighid pass

  Through this gate to the Sacred Grove