The Dominion Pulse

by Brad A. LaMar

  He turned and marched back to his horse. He often asked himself the same question. Arawn always had a hard time justifying his visits to the captured gods and Warnach. He could argue he had to make his rounds to ensure their cells were still intact, but he knew deep down that wasn’t the only reason. Was he searching for companionship? Had Argona not sided with Elathan… but their relationship was not to be. Arawn was alone guarding some of the most deadly and powerful beings in any realm—he was bound to a promise he made to an absent god an eternity ago.

  “Where’s Nuada? Where’s his lapdog, Toren?” yelled Dewi at Arawn’s back. “Nowhere, Arawn! They have either abandoned you or faded from existence. You are alone, and that’s a very bad thing for you.”

  Arawn kept walking until he reached his skittish ride. “Easy, girl. He can’t hurt you.”

  “You know why she’s nervous, Arawn. You know that Elathan has arrived in Otherworld, and he’s coming for his loyal followers.”

  Arawn tried not to show his surprise, but the adrenalin that was coursing through his veins must have given him away.

  Dewi drew in a deep breath and snickered. “You at least recognize the peril of your situation; I can smell your fear.”

  Arawn mounted his horse and began to sprint away, trying his best to ignore the cackles from the dragon god.

  “Elathan comes for you, Arawn!” He laughed again. “You will die, and Otherworld will be ours!”

  Arawn had to find out what was going on, and there was only one way to speak with Nuada. He hoped Dewi was lying, but something told him that the dragon god wasn’t. Arawn understood he was about to begin the fight of his life.

  “And here I was longing for battle and the days of glory,” he mused as he rode. “Be careful what you wish for.”

  …

  The sounds of the crackling fire lake outside Elathan’s mountain castle were beginning to unnerve Conchar. Many things about Tech Duinn were off-putting, especially for a Druid. Elathan had given Conchar’s ancestors powers and knowledge, and he had grown up with privileged standing above the refuse that was humanity. Secrets and spells were passed down through the generations until they finally reached him. Conchar was brilliant, talented, and without a conscious. That made him a deadly force; that made him valuable to Elathan.

  Even so, as a Druid Conchar wasn’t originally from Otherworld, and the constant roar of the blazing lake grated on his nerves. He finally had to get up from his seat at a long table in the library and latch the shutters. The silence that followed was deafening. His boot heals clicked on the smooth black floor on his way back to his seat. What is bothering me so much?

  “I can tell you,” Elathan said as he entered the library. “You’re a man of action, Conchar, and for too long I have kept you in waiting.” The golden god pulled a token from his cloak and flipped it to the necromancer.

  Conchar snatched it out of the air and gazed at it with reverence in the palm of his hand. “Master?”

  “Take the Seeker and go to Brugh. Find the dominion pulse. I will send the Watcher to Brugh, and when the task is complete return the Seeker here. This is your purpose.”

  Conchar bowed and left immediately, leaving Elathan to linger. The Bringer of Death moved to the window and pushed the shutters open to peer out at his fire lake. The flames licked at the air above the surface, a violent dance of a million tongues. Elathan began to manipulate the dance and pulled some of the fire into a single figure: Arawn.

  “We have been at war for centuries, Arawn, but we’ve never met,” Elathan whispered to the fire statue. “Perhaps it’s time I introduce myself.”

  …

  Brendan rubbed his eyes. He was seeing black dots dance across his vision, having left his eyes open for the first time as he traveled through the tether.

  “Idiot,” he admonished himself, blinking frantically to clear his vision.

  A full moon illuminated the broad green landscape showing off the character of the land. Thirteen tall stones surrounding him bore the dim evidence that he had just used their port as cooling symbols receded back into the stone surfaces. Brendan noticed a path of stones that sprouted out of the grassy area in the four compass directions and he realized that he was standing in the middle of a large stone cross. This set of megaliths stood tall in the middle of nowhere as far as Brendan could tell. Green hills, ancient rocks, and a view of the sea bathed in silver moonlight filled Brendan with a sense of peace, but he knew he wasn’t on this trip for pleasure.

  He had to find Bibe, but he still had no idea of where to go next. Magical energies bombarded Brendan’s senses and he was having some difficulty sorting them out. Brendan had to decode and sift through all of the environmental energies that he could receive as well as his own visions—and now he had a new heart sensory tied to Oscar’s heart in a place far from Earth. He emerged from the megaliths and spotted the lights on a small building nestled between a loch and a small road. Brendan walked down the path until he reached a metal sign that read: Calanais Visitor Center.

  There was an outdoor sitting area planted in the center of the complex—which was much bigger than he had expected—an empty parking lot, and a brochure stand leaning against the wall by the entrance. Brendan walked over to the stand and started looking through the titles. Most of the tourist literature was about other local sightseeing attractions, but Brendan selected one titled The Standing Stones of Callanish.

  “Out seeing the sights, eh?”

  Brendan spun around quickly, on high alert, to face the speaker but there was no one there. “Hello?” Brendan called.

  “It’s not a good thing to be out on your own in the dark, human,” a second voice declared, much deeper and louder than the first.

  “Didn’t no one tell you that these parts is dangerous at night?” the first voice asked.

  “I’m not looking for trouble,” Brendan said, his hands held up signifying his desire for peace.

  “Well you found it, pip,” the second voice answered.

  Two extremely large giants stepped out from around the cover of the visitor’s center, pounding their fists into their palms and licking their chops for a fight.

  “Look, fellas, I’m here to visit a friend, all right? I’m not here to fight giants,” Brendan stated as he began to walk away.

  “You think it’s that easy to walk away?” the owner of the first voice said, leaping over the wall to cut off Brendan’s escape.

  Brendan stopped and looked up at the giant. He had a large, bushy mop-top that sat on top his head like an eagle’s nest, scattered broken teeth, and piercings all over his face. Brendan heard the other giant step in behind him.

  “This land belongs to us after dark, boy, and intruders are to be punished,” he heard from behind.

  Brendan glanced up at the second giant and couldn’t believe that this one was even uglier than the first. Dark blonde hair covered the giant’s head with a horseshoe mustache decorating his face. Brendan sighed and shook his head, hoping that he wouldn’t have to deal with them harshly.

  “Fine, but remember that I tried to let you out of this,” Brendan warned.

  Bushy Hair laughed and jumped into the air intent on squishing Brendan, but Brendan caught the behemoth with his telekinetic power and tossed him out into the lawn. He landed hard on his face and sat up with a mouth full of dirt.

  Horseshoe Mustache was shocked—and irate. “You can’t do that to my brother!” He pulled a club from his back and brought it down at Brendan.

  Brendan stepped into a hook kick and shattered the club as if it had been made of balsa wood. Horseshoe Mustache was speechless at that point, but it didn’t stop him from trying to punch at Brendan’s head. The human held up his palm and stopped the punch short with a power the giant could not have expected. Brendan twisted the giant’s hand around making the monster wince, and then he flung the giant’s fist back into his own face. Horseshoe Mustache stumbled backward and was about to crash into the visitor’s center when Brendan
reached out telekinetically and caught him. He tossed the giant towards the lawn with a single thought, making him land on top of his brother.

  “Are we done?” Brendan asked.

  Cackling laughter erupted from the roof of the visitor’s center as a pair of glowing orange eyes began to shine and bounce. “That was so hilarious!” shouted the dark little figure. “You should have seen your faces, Tevis and Fergus! Simply priceless.”

  “Shut up, Rohl! This is your fault!” shouted Tevis, also known as Bushy Hair.

  “What’s going on? Who and what are you?” Brendan demanded.

  The little guy finally stopped his laughter and hopped from the roof onto a table in the courtyard. He cleared his throat and motioned for Brendan to come have a seat.

  “No thanks, I’ll stand,” Brendan said.

  “I was just having a little fun with my friends over there, that’s all. I knew you wouldn’t kill them, just embarrass them some—which you did a bang up job of, Brendan.”

  “So you knew who I was and you thought that made it okay for them to try and kill me since you knew I wouldn’t kill them?” Brendan asked, ready to chastise the dark-green skinned little creature.

  The stranger shrugged. “Honestly, I didn’t know you had powers until you began tossing them around like toys and then I knew who you had to be.”

  “What’s your problem? If I hadn’t had powers they would have crushed me.”

  “Turns out you had them, so no biggie,” he replied.

  “Who are you?” Brendan asked.

  “My name is Rohl and I am a Púca,” Rohl replied with a bow. Rohl read Brendan’s face and explained a little further. “Come on, you have to know what a Púca is, right?”

  “Ooh, I do,” Fergus said, his hand raised like he was a student in the front row of a second-grade class.

  “Shut it, Fergus,” Rohl barked, his eyes rolling before he looked back at Brendan. “Anyway, my clan are shape-shifters. Watch.”

  Rohl jumped to the ground as his body began to change rapidly. He grew five times his normal size and sprouted hair all over his body. When he was done, Rohl had taken on the look of a horse with green hair and flowing mane so dark that it looked black in the moonlight. His eyes remained a bright fiery orange like torches planted in the horse’s skull. Brendan briefly thought of Dullahan’s horse.

  “That’s just great,” Brendan sighed. “But listen guys, I need to find someone,” Brendan tried to move past the pranksters.

  “Ooh, is it a girl?” Fergus asked.

  “Maybe he’s got himself a date,” Tevis added.

  Rohl swiftly switched back into his normal form and popped onto the table. “Are they right, because I’ve seen some fine lasses in Stornoway, but that’s a bit of a walk.”

  “I don’t have time for this,” Brendan began walking past the trio.

  “Wait,” Tevis called after Brendan.

  “Don’t be like that. We can help you,” Fergus echoed.

  Rohl jogged quickly and got in front of Brendan. “I know, you’re looking for someone very special. Perhaps from Otherworld?”

  Brendan stopped and looked down at the Púca. “What do you know about Otherworld?”

  “Look at us, Protector,” Rohl said, gesturing towards his giant friends. “Do we look like we are really from around here?”

  “We are from around here, Rohl. Ain’t we?” Tevis asked.

  “I think so,” answered Fergus.

  Rohl shook his head and mouthed that he was sorry for the brothers. “The point is that we Otherworlders know where to find other Otherworlders. So, what sort of Otherworlder are you seeking?”

  Brendan considered the Púca’s words and weighed his options. He could ignore them and search on his own, but as it was, he had already lost so much time that he decided to take a small risk and trust Rohl, Tevis, and Fergus. “I’m looking for a goddess,” Brendan said, trying to steer the conversation back to something sensible.

  “I’m not sure I’d call any of them goddesses, but beggers can’t be choosers, now can they?” Rohl said offhandedly.

  “No, seriously, I’m looking for a goddess named Bibe. Do you know where I can find her?”

  “Oh sure, I know her. She used to lecture me about playing pranks on humans. One or two die and all of a sudden it’s wrong,” the Púca said with an air of annoyance. “You’re on the wrong part of the island, but I can take you there.”

  “Really?” Brendan asked skeptically.

  “Why not? How often can a Púca hang out with a Protector of the Earth?”

  “Can we come, too?” Tevis asked.

  Brendan didn’t say anything at first. Even though there was a definite difference between D’Quall and these two, traveling with giants might draw too much attention and he wasn’t sure he could trust their loyalty. “I don’t think so guys. We need to get there without everyone and their mother looking at us.”

  “Yeah, so scram!” yelled Rohl.

  “Fine, but we’re gonna get even with you, Rohl!” Fergus declared.

  While the giants strolled away, pushing and punching each other the way kid brothers do, Brendan and the Púca started their own journey to find Bibe.

  …

  “Do you really think we’ll find them, Garnash?” asked Frank.

  Garnash was perched on Frank’s shoulder scanning the area where the sessile oak once proudly stood as a beautiful symbol of Gnome pride and strength. D’Quall and his alphyns had done their best to totally destroy the Gnome’s home, but they had failed to bring it down. It was soot covered and beaten up but it was rooted in defiance and tradition. Garnash felt a rush of emotion as he took the sight of it in. He was grateful to Frank and Lizzie for joining him on his search for surviving members of the clan. Luckily, a few of the healthier Gnomes that he had picked up before escaping to Corways were brave enough to come along on the rescue mission as well.

  “We have certain safe locations that we can run to if trouble happens so that’s where we’ll search.” Garnash pointed to his clansmen and directed them to work in pairs and to go to a specific location. “When you find our brethren, take them straight away to Corways.”

  “What do you want us to do?” Lizzie asked, her purple staff in hand.

  “The three of us are going Magog hunting,” Garnash said flatly.

  “I’m not sure that’s a great idea,” Lizzie said.

  “I understand why you would say that, but he’s got to be brought to justice. He’s got to be stopped,” Garnash argued.

  “I just don’t like the idea of hunting someone down to kill them,” Lizzie said, her head shaking.

  “We’re at war, Lizzie,” Garnash countered. “Sometimes there isn’t a choice. He’s already murdered Brett and Vivian and the majority of my clan. I cannot sit idly by and let him kill us all!”

  Frank nodded. “I have to agree with Garnash, Lizzie. D’Quall is a psychopath. He has to be stopped.”

  Lizzie nodded grimly. “Where do we start?”

  “D’Quall came to Flumshire without a thought of mercy for my clan, so I think we go to the Village of the Magogs,” Garnash said as defiantly as the oak did with its mere stubborn existence.

  Lizzie shook her head slowly as she followed Garnash and Frank. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

  …

  Ken had just closed his eyes when the voice of one of the Smith sisters called to him from outside the window. He had flopped down on his bed inside the Celtic Heritage House on the campus of Syracuse University after a grueling, beat-down of a soccer practice ready to close his eyes for at least ten hours. Coach often ran that type of punishment practice after a bad loss.

  “How was practice, sweetie?” Patti asked Ken.

  “Yeah, anyone throw up today?” Wanda wanted to know.

  “Go away.” Ken rolled onto his side and away from the sisters.

  “Well, ain’t that a fine thanks for telling him that two creepy magicks are coming through his front doo
r as we speak.” Wanda crossed her arms and turned her head away like a five-year-old.

  It took Ken a moment to register what the Fairy had said, but by then it was too late. His door swung open and a very muscular man barged into the room, yanking him off the bed by the throat. He tried to pull out of the man’s grip, but it was like a vice.

  “You leave this boy alone!” Pattie shouted.

  “Yeah, ugly, put my boy down!” Wanda added.

  Camulos scowled at the Fairy sisters with daggers in his eyes. The sisters zipped away knowing that there was nothing that they could do.

  “Well?” Camulos said over his shoulder to Tannus.

  “Yes, a Protector lived here for a short while, although his presence here has diminished. He hasn’t been here for quite some time.” Tannus looked around suspiciously, taking in the walls, the floor, and the construction of the CHH. “There’s something about this place, Camulos, but I can’t quite place it.”

  Camulos turned back to Ken. “You know a Protector of Earth?”

  Ken did his best to nod his head, but it was hard when he was about to black out. His captor dropped him unceremoniously back onto the mattress.

  “Humans, so weak,” Camulos chuckled to Tannus.

  “What’s the Protector’s name?” Tannus inquired with a devilish grin.

  Ken sat silent, rubbing his throat. “His name is Brendan O’Neal.”

  “Look how quickly he gave up the information about the Protector, Tannus. Where’s the loyalty?”

  Ken smiled even though it was a struggle. “It doesn’t matter. Brendan will whip you both if you find him.”

  “There’s the arrogant nature of man that I so admire.” Camulos sized Ken up. “Tell me, boy, did this Brendan have a sword?”

  Ken shook his head. “I never saw any swords.”

  Tannus studied Ken’s face. “He’s telling the truth. Did the Protector mention a sword?”

  “Not to me. Look, I have no idea who you guys are or what you want with Brendan, but I hope you find him. I’m sure he would love to have a conversation.”