The Legends of Orkney

by Alane Adams

  “I went there to kill him!” he shouted. “Odin is dead. Asgard is gone, destroyed. By me!”

  “Catriona poisoned your mind. She’s to blame— “

  Catriona’s ice block splintered with a loud crack, and panic rose up in Keely. The witch would be free any second, and she still hadn’t changed Sam’s heart.

  She grabbed Sam by his chest plate, dragging him close, braving an up-close look at those yellowed eyes. “Look, you, I faced troll-hags and frost giants to bring back the Moon Pearl, but I realize now, it won’t save you. That’s not what this was about. Odin could have gotten the Moon Pearl anytime he wanted, but he sent me because somehow he knew, I needed to face my past. And when I did, I was finally free. That’s what this is about, Sam. You have to face the past and deal with it.”

  “Yeah, bro,” Howie chirped up. “I’ve been scared of my shadow my whole life. I thought it was a joke when Odin chose me as Protector, but look at me now.” He flexed newly formed muscles. “I’ve taken down Balfin ape-men.”

  Then it was Leo’s turn. His chocolate brown eyes were warm as he looked at his friend. “I thought I had no honor because I wanted to run away from my tribe, but I was willing to sacrifice everything to save this realm. That’s all the honor I need.”

  Kalifus-Sam only looked angrier, his cheeks flushing scarlet. “Great! You all did smashing! But Odin told me I failed his test. Get it?” he shouted. “I. Failed.”

  “No.” Keely shook her head. “No way. Odin didn’t do all this so you would fail. Come on, Sam, use your brain. He would have never let you get close to him unless it was the outcome he wanted.”

  “So what,” he sneered, “he just let me stick a blade in his heart?”

  Keely threw her hands up, exasperated. “Who knows? What do you have to face in your past? Did you ever forgive yourself for what the red sun did? Or for not saving your father? Maybe Odin wanted you to learn how to forgive yourself, so he gave you the ultimate test.”

  Perrin pushed Keely aside. The lanky witch thrust a finger in Sam’s chest. “Look, if I can forgive you for putting a spear through my chest, I think you can lighten up a bit. I wish I had friends like this.”

  Kalifus-Sam remained silent, but his eyes flickered left to right, as if he were processing their words. Before Keely could plead her case more, Catriona’s ice exploded into a burst of stinging ice shards.

  “Wretched child, there will be no mercy for you!” Catriona was livid. Ice dripped from her hair. Her chest heaved up and down. A fireball instantly appeared over her hand. “You dare test me with Odin’s magic? You will burst into flames and burn for eternity.” She drew her arm back and launched her projectile at Keely.

  Keely braced herself for the impact when a funny thing happened. A dome of energy sprung up around them. Catriona’s witchfire bounced off the defensive shell back at her, zinging her and making her shriek in pain.

  Keely’s eyes flew to Sam’s, and he winked at her. Joy shot through her.

  Sam was back.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Sam cracked his neck. “I have been wanting to do this for weeks.” He clapped his hands sharply and then threw them out, sending Catriona flying backward, tumbling head over heels. Keely’s words had finally sunk in. And not a second too soon. There was so much truth in them, he didn’t know where to begin.

  Catriona was on her feet in an instant. “Traitor!” she screeched. The old witch flung her arms out and clapped her hands together, sending another bolt of lightning out of the sky straight down at him.

  Sam pushed the sizzling burst away, turning it back at Catriona. The impact sent her rolling across the paving stones, leaving her crumpled and broken, stringy gray hair strewn across her face. He waited for her to get up, but for the moment, she lay motionless.

  He dropped the energy bubble that encased his friends. Keely rushed forward, throwing her arms around him. “Sam!” she shouted.

  “Hey, Keely, took you long enough to get here.”

  “Is it really you?” Her eyes searched his face.

  He smiled wryly. “I thought Sam was gone forever. But what you said, it finally made sense. Not that I don’t think you make an awesome Protector, Howie, but we both know he should have chosen Leo.”

  Leo just grinned. Howie tried to look offended, but then he high-fived Sam. “Dude, you are so back. I love it!”

  “Did you really call me a dork-face?” Sam said, fake punching Howie in the stomach.

  Howie batted his hand away. “Did you really call me a traitorous worm?”

  Sam reached out to clasp his shoulder when a bundle of skirts hit Howie and knocked him aside.

  “Howie, you all right?”

  Sam watched as the girl he had threatened earlier took Howie in her arms and hugged him. But Howie didn’t seem to mind. Not at all.

  “Hey, Selina. It’s cool. My man here, Sam, is back among the living. Everything’s going to be okay now.”

  “Really? Because he looked like he wanted to kill you,” she said with disdain as she looked at Sam.

  Sam laughed. “Trust me, the longer you know Howie, the more you want to kill him.”

  The two friends grinned at each other.

  “We still have to deal with Hestera and the other witches,” Sam said.

  “Uh, I think we have that covered,” Keely answered.

  Sam’s eyebrows went up. “Do tell.”

  She looked proud as she saucily announced, “Well, while Leo and I were keeping you busy, Gael led his Eifalian troops to help man the ramparts. Look.”

  Sam followed her gaze. At the top of the ramparts, Gael stood gazing down at them. Galatin stood at his side. Over their heads, black-winged Omeras took flight with witches clinging to their backs. Hestera had led the coven in full retreat.

  “Well done, Keely!” Sam said.

  The sound of Mavery’s muffled squeaks and shouts sent them running to the blacksmith’s. Sam blasted the rope to shreds, and the cocoon dropped to the ground. Arms flailed as Mavery wriggled out of her coils. She immediately began to pound Sam on the legs. He deflected her blows as he knelt down in front of her. “I take it you’re mad at me?”

  Tears streaked her muddy face. “You nearly blasted me to pieces.”

  “But I didn’t. Hey, I told you a million times, I can’t figure this witch stuff out without your help.”

  Her lips quivered as she tried to stay mad, and then she relented and threw her arms around his neck. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  “Me, too.”

  A blast of witchfire spat into the ground next to them. Sam sighed. Without even turning, he knew Catriona had recovered.

  “Guys, this is my fight. Leo, Howie, go see what Gael and Teren need. Keely, you keep Mavery out of trouble.”

  “Let me at her,” Mavery argued, wriggling to get free, but Keely dragged her to the shelter of the blacksmith shop.

  Sam turned. The gray-haired witch stood waiting, hands planted on her hips. A streak of mud creased her cheek, and her hair was askew. But a raging fury made her bristle with energy. “We are not finished, Kalifus. You think you can just walk away from me? You are mine. My son. My creation.”

  “My name is Sam. And I am most definitely not your son,” Sam said, taking a stance to face her. “I just forgot who I was for a while. But I had good reason. I thought it would save my friends, but turns out, they didn’t need saving at all.” Her toxic magic burned like acid in his veins. He would do anything to rid himself of it.

  She stalked forward, pointing an accusing finger. “You killed Odin. You did that for me!” She thrust her hands out, blasting him with a violent tirade of witchfire, rolling him over and over across the paving stones.

  When she stopped, his whole body was numb. Getting zapped was like sticking a finger in a light socket. He was really tired of Catriona calling all the shots. He pushed himself up to a sitting position. “I killed Odin because I had to choose between him or me,” he said. “And I chose me. But eno
ugh of this child’s play.” He climbed to his feet. “I command you to end this.”

  “Command me?” Her face was a mask of contempt. “Foolish boy. Who’s going to stop me? I made you. I can destroy you.”

  Sam focused on calling on his Volgrim magic, trusting he could control it. He sent three balls of witchfire at Catriona in rapid succession. They were different than the others, their fiery green edges tinged with a malevolent shade of bruised violet that hinted at the deeper power he now carried. The first two missed, but the third one hit her on the shoulder, sending her reeling backward. “You can’t beat me,” he boasted, moving closer. He drew two more balls of the powerful new witchfire he possessed and launched them. “Remember? You gifted me with your putrid Volgrim magic. Like it or not, my powers are as strong as yours. So go ahead and try, but I will beat you.”

  He chanted in that strange language Catriona had given him. The language of her dark magic. He drew his hands around him, planting his feet firmly. “Mordera, mordera senvindium fray.” He repeated the phrase, his voice rising to the last word, then raised his leading leg and stomped down hard, thrusting forward at the same time with his palms. The ground cracked beneath his feet, zigzagging straight for Catriona. A sound like a thunderclap split the air.

  Catriona was thrown off her feet. Rocks tumbled from the wall. The queen of evil looked shaken, but a crafty light came into her eyes as she sprang back up. “So arrogant. We’ll see how you feel when I strip my beautiful magic away.” She flung her bony fingers forward and proceeded to barbecue Sam, searing him with matching sizzling grape-colored fire shooting from her fingertips. Sam screamed in agony as smoke rose from his limbs. He dropped to the ground, rolling from side to side to escape her retribution.

  “Mordera exodiam,” she chanted.

  Smoke the color of rotted jookberries began to filter out of Sam’s nose. He gritted his teeth against the pain, willing himself not to fight back. The smoke pooled in a cloud over his head, draining the poisonous magic from him. Catriona inhaled deeply, drawing the cloud toward her and sucking it into her greedy lungs until every last drop of the tainted smoke was completely gone. She lowered her hands and sighed contentedly, as if she had just eaten a fine meal. “Now, you are nothing.”

  Sam lay on his back, still and motionless. He blinked, looking up at the sky. The sun was yellow, the blue sky cloudless. His head felt clear for the first time in weeks. He wanted to shout with joy. He sat up. “Phew, that’s better.” He pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly. “Now that I have your nasty, disgusting, revolting magic out, I can get back to being me.”

  “You tricked me,” she said, gasping in disbelief. “You wanted me to leech it from your system.”

  He grinned at her, shrugging impishly. “I have all the magic I need from my mother and father. So let’s do this.” Instinctively, he reached for his leather pouch, the one that held the ground-up dust of Odin’s Stone. He opened it, about to pour the last grains of sand into his hand, but instead the original shard rolled out. He stared at it in shock, and then a grin crossed his face.

  Leave it to Odin to surprise him once again.

  He put the shard back in the pouch, sealed it, and swung it around his head. He closed his eyes and called on his deepest light magic. Wind whirled around him. “Fein kinter, testera, testera, Catriona, venimus. Dispera, dispera, mora nae mora,” he shouted.

  Catriona held her arms up to block the wind, holding her position. Using her magic, she picked up a pitchfork from a hay wagon, sending it straight for Sam’s heart. Sam raised his hand and stopped it, sending it into a wooden post with a loud thunk. The old witch sent a pair of oaken barrels next. He couldn’t move fast enough and they knocked him off his feet, bruising his ribs. He rolled to avoid another blast and sent a bolt of green fire at her head. She dodged it easily and flung him backward with a flick of her wrist, sending him crashing into the wall. Sam saw stars, and his left shoulder sent out shooting pains. She sent the pouch flying from his hands to skid across the paving stones.

  Catriona looked bored. “You are nothing but a weak and pathetic boy. You have all the power of a toddler.”

  Sam forced himself back on his feet, ignoring his aching ribs and throbbing shoulder. He saw a short double-headed axe embedded in a post. He called it to his hand, gripping it tightly, then heaved it at Catriona. It spun across the open space, spinning head over tail. A foot away, she clapped her hands, turning it into a cloud of dust.

  Catriona stalked closer like he was prey. “You should have never given up your dark magic.” She thrust her palms out and trapped him in a blaze of emerald and amethyst witchfire. Shooting pangs of agony made him arch and writhe.

  Sam fought to push back her magic with his own, but his arms were starting to shake. She was right. Without the aid of Catriona’s dark powers, he was quickly running out of gas.

  Mavery ran out of the blacksmith shop and sent a blast at Catriona. The hag was forced to turn her attention from Sam to send the little witch flying head over heels across the square until she tumbled in a heap in front of a spice shop. Keely emerged, running to help Mavery to her feet. They took cover behind some casks in front of the shop.

  Sam gasped for air, grateful for the reprieve. But a loud rattling came from the armory. The door flew open. Metal objects began to hurl through the air. A sledgehammer flew out and came straight at his head. Sam ducked, but he couldn’t avoid the pair of flying shears that cut across his thigh, splitting open his skin. Pain fogged his head. He felt warm blood run down his leg.

  Catriona conjured more objects, sending a spinning helmet that struck his temple, making him see double. A stack of metal shields came at him like flying saucers. He flung his arms up, and they banged and bruised his forearms. And then the swords came at him. One after another, as if she were emptying the armory. Sam blasted the first two away. The third he leapt over. The fourth he couldn’t avoid. It embedded in his thigh, bringing him down to the ground. He yanked it out, his whole body in agony. His father’s pouch lay on the ground a few feet away. He tried to drag himself forward, to use the precious magic in it to help him. His fingers closed around it, but before he could swing it, Catriona ground his wrist into the ground with her pointed boot.

  Her face was gloating, eyes shining with victory as she stood over him. “Now I will do what I should have done that first day. Erase every trace of your existence!”

  Sam braced himself for the burst of witchfire that would turn him to ash, but before Catriona could raise her hands, a puff of smoke exploded in the square. A woman appeared in a heavy cloak, sending crackling blue fire at Catriona. “Get away from my son,” the woman commanded.

  Through the haze of pain, Sam’s heart leaped into his throat as he recognized her voice.

  “Mom!”

  It was his mother. Here in Orkney. How was that possible?

  Catriona turned her fire from him toward the newcomer. “How dare you attack me!”

  “I’m his mother,” Abigail said calmly, releasing a torrent of blue fire at the old witch. “His real mother. So get away from him before I send you back to the dark hole you emerged from.”

  “He is mine!” Catriona screeched, blocking Abigail’s attack with her own.

  Their magic met in the middle, sending a wall of flames shooting up fifty feet high. The blue and purple magic intertwined. Abigail was strong. But even Sam could see her arms were trembling. He struggled to get to his feet, but his leg wouldn’t hold him. Then Keely was at his side, running a pink crystal over his wound.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  But she ignored him. She probed with her fingers. He felt a tingle, and then the crystal glowed a faint pink. His eyes bugged out. Did Keely just use magic? But the wound, while still painful, was better. She tied his leg off with a strip of fabric and lifted him to his feet.

  “She needs you,” Keely said. She helped him limp over to Abigail’s side. His right leg throbbed, but it was bearable. Sam ra
ised his hand, joining his witchfire with hers. At his side, Mavery took a stand. The girl had a scrape on her cheek, but her chin was determined. Her magic was small, but every little bit helped.

  They were holding their own, but Catriona seemed to be getting stronger, while they were using up all their strength. The smell of crackling electricity and sulfuric heat filled the air. And then Catriona unleashed another wave of magic. Did the witch have an unlimited reserve? They were losing, slowly being driven back. They needed more magic. They needed another witch on their side.

  “Need some help?”

  The voice came from Perrin. Revenge fired her eyes as she joined them. She tilted her head and rubbed her hands together and then flung them outward. Instantly their tongues of witch-fire strengthened as she joined them. Perrin was powerful, Sam realized, especially when she was angry.

  They were gaining on Catriona, driving her backward.

  Sensing she was losing, Catriona suddenly directed all her power skyward.

  “I call on the father of witches, Rubicus. Send down your guardian Safyre Omera to defend me,” Catriona shrieked.

  A blast of crimson lightning split the sky. A distant figure unfurled from a curl of black smoke that streaked across the horizon. They heard the beating of wings as the creature descended over the ramparts. It was an Omera, a giant one, ancient-looking, with battle scars crisscrossing its chest. Its eyes glowed ruby red as it blasted the way in front with fire, searing everything in its path.

  “What is that?” Keely asked.

  “That looks like a fire-breathing Omera,” Sam supplied. “We should run.”

  “No,” Keely said calmly. “No running.”

  She scrabbled in the dirt, getting down on her hands and knees as she searched.

  “What are you doing?” Sam eyed the approaching monster. Had Keely lost it?

  “There!” Shouting with triumph, she opened her hand. She held a large white pearl. It was muddied, and cracked, but it still held an opaque glow.