The Dominion Pulse

by Brad A. LaMar

  It was silent for a moment, but only for a moment. A single soft clap near the back of a group of Leprechauns and Gnomes was heard. “Way to go, dearie!” Colym yelled. The applause picked up and it soon turned into all-out cheering.

  Dorian raised her hand and the crowd quieted immediately. “I take no pleasure in killing D’Quall or anyone else, but we haven’t accomplished anything yet. We still don’t know what’s become of Brendan.”

  “No word yet, Rory?” Lizzie asked.

  “None yet, except this text Dorian received from Ken,” Rory replied, holding up her cell phone.

  Dorian took the phone and read the text about the two magicks asking about Brendan and the Sword of the Protectors. “I’m not sure who or what these magicks are, but since they know about his sword, I would bet that they are in league with Elathan.”

  “Agreed,” added Garnash. “We have to warn Brendan.”

  “He’s in Scotland looking for Bibe,” Rory said. “I believe he said that he was going to the Isle of Lewis. Not sure if that’s where he is, though.”

  Dorian felt her body involuntarily shiver at the mention of the Isle of Lewis. Terrible things had happened there. It was difficult for her to think about, but luckily Biddy walked in and changed the direction of the conversation.

  “We just received this message from Ardan, Dorian, just before you lot walked out of the megaliths.” Biddy marched over and handed the Queen a piece of parchment.

  Dorian took the paper and opened the small message, the contrast in communication not lost on her. Her face made it clear that she didn’t like what she read.

  “What is it?” Rory asked.

  “King Ardan has declined our invitation to join the new Council of Magic. He says that the death of his father was too much for him and his people. They are going into hiding instead and request I not try and contact them again.”

  “Who’s Ardan?” Frank asked, looking around at the others.

  Dorian tossed the small letter onto the table. “He’s the King of the Sidhes. You would call them fairies in America. Why would they hide? They saw Elathan’s power first hand.”

  “They’re scared, dear. They don’t know what else to do, so they’re going to run.” Biddy threw her hands in the air in frustration at the thought.

  “I’m not sure what they think will happen to all the living creatures on the Earth when Elathan returns, but I can tell you this,” Garnash said, pausing as he tried to think of a nice way to describe it. “There won’t be any place where anyone can hide.”

  “Let’s get back to Brendan,” Lizzie steered the conversation. “What are we going to do about him? If the two magicks Ken talked about know where the sword is, then Brendan may be on a collision course with them at Bibe’s.”

  “Then God help them, because if there is one person on the planet that can take care of himself, it’s Brendan O’Neal,” Frank said. “I think we sit tight and wait for a day or so, and then if he doesn’t send any messages like he promised he would, we go looking for him.”

  “He can handle himself in most circumstances, but remember when he went up against Elathan?” Lizzie said reasonably. “Now that the tether to Otherworld is open, I can only assume other gods can travel here as well. Who’s to say that these two aren’t gods? Who’s to say that they’re not here to kill him?”

  “We don’t even know if these two magicks are anywhere near Brendan,” Garnash added.

  “Brendan’s powers have grown since that fight,” Rory countered. “Besides, we can’t all go gallivanting around the world when we’re still picking up the pieces here in Corways.”

  “But, love, there won’t be a Corways if we can’t stop Elathan and his followers.” Biddy reached out and touched her husband’s shoulder. “Sooner or later our two sides are going to meet. That’s what’s going to decide it all.”

  Soon the conversation and the attention turned back to Dorian. She listened as they debated what to do, but her mind was made up. “You have all made good points, but if we’re going to be successful, then we are going to have to do this together.”

  Garnash stretched out his back, causing little cracking noises. “So, Dorian, when do we leave for Scotland?”

  She looked at her warrior compatriots and nodded. “There’s no time like the present.”

  …

  “The Seeker is the only one who can sense where the dominion pulse of a realm is located,” Conchar said. “What has not been explained to me fully is why it’s so important to Lord Elathan’s plans.”

  Dewi watched the human tracker stroll ahead of he and Conchar, meticulous and observant, but silent the entire time. “The pulse is the very soul of a realm… ”

  “Yes, I know that, Lord Dewi, but I still don’t… ”

  “Careful with your tongue, wizard,” Dewi snapped, his own tongue writhing like a snake’s. “Do not interrupt again.” Conchar grew as silent as the Seeker, so Dewi continued. “Since we are going to place Elathan’s token in the very heart of each pulse, our master will gain control over all beings in the realm with the exception of the higher-thinking species. For example, once the Seeker finds the pulse and plants the coin, Elathan will have control over Kelpies, niseags, and any other lower forms of life. Just think of the army that will be under our control.”

  Conchar raised his hand. Dewi looked at him curiously so he went ahead with his question. “What of the sentient beings like Brownies or giants?”

  “Those beings will have to be convinced by the Watcher of each realm. I will be the Watcher of Brugh, so I doubt any will oppose me.”

  “Look,” Conchar said, pointing ahead at the Seeker. “I think the dominion pulse is nearby.”

  …

  “Brendan…” groaned Nuada.

  Toren paced the floor trying to understand why his master had fallen into sickness. Gods didn’t get sick, did they?

  “Hang in there, Nuada,” he urged. “Hang in there.”

  …

  Griffin sat down gently near Bibe’s house and Brendan immediately dismounted, striding towards the front entrance. The door was slightly ajar and he could see a flickering beam of light dancing from somewhere inside.

  “What’s going on?” Rohl asked, hopping next to Brendan.

  “The door’s already open,” he replied. “Could be a bad sign.”

  The Púca’s eyes grew large as he considered the possible reasons. He slowly maneuvered his head to try and peek through the door. “I’ll let you go first.”

  Brendan pushed the door open and cautiously entered, his hands glowing softly. “Hello?” he called out to a silent room. “Anyone home?”

  “It’s quiet in here,” Rohl observed, shaking as he pressed up against Brendan’s leg. “Too quiet.”

  Brendan shook his head and moved further into the small living area. Dollies, knickknacks, and throw pillows cluttered the space, making it homey and stereotypical. Everything in the living room seemed to be in order.

  “Hello? Bibe?”

  “Looks like she’s not home, oh well, let’s go,” Rohl began making his way to the door.

  “Shhh, do you hear that?” Brendan said, his ears straining to hear what sounded like soft sobs.

  “Aye,” the Púca replied.

  They walked as gently as possible around the perimeter of the room past the kitchen, a connecting bedroom, and finally saw a long hallway. Brendan pointed down the hall and then held his finger to his lips to keep the yappy Púca from saying anything. They stalked down the hall passing three more small bedrooms, a bathroom, and a pair of closets until they finally came to a heavy wooden door at the end of the hall. It was cracked open so Brendan and Rohl leaned closer to it and sure enough they heard soft sobs somewhere beyond the oaken door.

  …

  It was dark in the cave, the only light coming from a scattering of crystals on the walls, ceiling, and floor. It didn’t really matter if Oscar was able to see all that well because his eyes were not guiding him, in fact,
none of his human senses were. Oscar was being led by something much more perceptive, much more primal.

  Lub-dub!

  He felt it in his chest, vibrating his organs, pulling him in the right direction. He was deep beneath a massive mountain in Brugh, alone with a powerful wizard and a massive god of dragons, but he didn’t notice them any more than he noticed the insects crawling in and out of the cavern’s cracks. He was close, so close.

  Lub-dub!

  The pulse’s call was so strong it assaulted his being and he stumbled backwards, barely managing to stay on his feet. The dominion pulse was here and the words began to repeat in his mind, as if he could ever forget them.

  “Nochtann do chroí! Reveal your heart!” he commanded the pulse.

  The warmth of the small dot of light popped into view hovering at chest level. He repeated his order a few more times until it had grown as large as the pulse in Mag Mell. Muffled words and the shuffling of someone’s feet briefly caught his attention causing him to snap his fingers and hold out his palm. A small token with the visage of a golden god appeared in his grasp.

  Oscar walked forward and without a second thought plunged his hand deep into the heart of Brugh, turning the pure white light into the shiny temptation of gold. Oscar hardly responded when the dominion pulse released its energy and helped Elathan lay claim to the entire realm. By that point, he was too busy extracting the blood of the god of dragons, causing the beast-man to howl in pain and fall to the cavern floor. The sickening mixture swirled within the heart of Brugh until the second pulse of energy was released. The Seeker had implanted yet another Watcher of Otherworld, tightening Elathan’s grasp and spurring on his dominance.

  …

  The sobbing grew fainter and at first Brendan thought the person must have been trying to stifle their tears, but when the ear-numbing beat of a distant heart banged to life in his ears, he knew the real reason. He could feel his pupils contract and dilate involuntarily as he stood there captive to the sensation.

  “Let’s see what’s down here,” Rohl said, pushing the door open in front of Brendan.

  The Púca’s words were drawn out and stretched in Brendan’s ears and the basement view was confusing to look at. It was an expansive tunnel in Brendan’s perception, a cavern almost, that was speckled with tiny glints of light on the wall and ceiling. In the distance he could see a trio of figures. Two of them were blurry but Oscar O’Neal’s figure was easy to make out. He was standing next to a white light that held an inky red substance like a super bright lava lamp, swirling and blobbing up as the light churned, apparently at Oscar’s command.

  Lub-dub!

  The hammering of the beat made Brendan wince and close his eyes for the briefest of seconds but that was enough time for the images to fade away. The beating softly thumped one last time before trailing off to silence.

  Brendan stood before an opened door to the basement once more, soft tears were being shed somewhere in the darkness below, but now he wasn’t sure if it was a person hidden somewhere below or his own heart breaking for his father.

  …

  “Master,” Conchar said, entering the chamber. “The Seeker has claimed another realm for your glory.”

  “I know. I can feel my powers growing.”

  Elathan stepped down from his obsidian throne and crossed the room to a large smooth wall, passing both Conchar and the Seeker without a glance. The wall looked like a viscous fluid sporting tendrils of smoke that wafted about beneath the surface. Elathan touched the center of the wall causing ripples to spread out, further highlighting its aqueous characteristics. The smoke shifted and zoomed beneath the surface until a picture of the realms took shape. Two of the realms were glazed over in gold leaving the other four pearl white.

  “You will next take the Seeker to Caer Wydr,” Elathan said, pointing to the realm highest on the wall.

  “Am I to become the Watcher of Caer Wydr, Lord Elathan?” Conchar asked with a lust for power in his heart.

  “No,” the golden god replied. He pointed toward the massive entrance doors at the other end of the corridor as they swung open to reveal a gargantuan individual. “That will be Warnach’s honor.”

  Conchar studied the Magog as he strode directly towards Elathan and knelt before him. The Magog was the size of any other giant, but the wizard felt the magic radiating off of him.

  “Your return is welcomed, Lord Elathan. How can I serve you?” Warnach asked piously.

  “I am giving you the honor of being the Watcher of Caer Wydr, the Realm of the Heavens. Go and make it mine.”

  Warnach, Conchar, and the Seeker left straight away, leaving Elathan to his thoughts and schemes.

  …

  The Realm of Arawn was in a state of panic—at least that’s what Della perceived—after Elathan’s arrival and the release of Lir, Argona, Dewi, and Warnach. The Puck was feeling the heavy burden of guilt at having released the prisoners, and what made it worse was that the other Pucks from her clan weren’t speaking with her any longer. Only a handful had spoken with her since she began to associate with Argona and the others anyhow, but they didn’t understand that she had no choice in the matter.

  Now she found herself sitting in silence near Argona in the depths of a forest that she was barely familiar with. The last few hours had been filled with the rantings of the angry war goddess—mostly about Arawn—but then once the conversation turned to the task that Elathan had set for her, Argona fell silent and began to contemplate her next move.

  “Where is Caoranach being kept?” Argona said finally, casting a sideways glance at the little messenger. “You have roamed all over this realm so you have surely come across all the prisoners.”

  “I don’t know,” Della claimed, her eyes widening at the accusatory tone in the goddess’s voice. The look she received prompted her to continue to defend herself. “I swear to you, mistress, I have never seen any other prisoners in Ann wn.”

  Argona scowled at the mention of the realm’s name. “You know that if you are lying to me, I will kill you.”

  “Of course,” Della cried. “I have no reason to lie to you!”

  Argona considered the whole situation and decided on the only course of action left to her. “Come, Della, we are going to find Arawn and force him to tell us all about his realm.”

  …

  An exposed bulb dangled from the ceiling and cast just enough light for Brendan and Rohl to avoid any missteps. Brendan took the stairs slowly since they were steep and creaky. Right away he noticed that the crying stopped and there was a little bit of movement, like someone was trying to hide. That could mean an ambush, so he readied himself for it. When they reached the bottom of the stairs they were surprised to see how wide open the space was beneath the modest cottage.

  “This basement must be a few square acres, Rohl.”

  “It probably even stretches beneath a few other houses,” the Púca replied.

  “Be careful; I think someone’s hiding down here,” Brendan warned. “Let’s spread out and see what we can find.”

  Rohl began to morph, elongating his hands and feet into nasty black claws, stretching his body vertically so that he became a slender, bony beast with a long snout filled with teeth as sharp as a sharks and a comb of feathers like a rooster. His orange eyes blended into a single orb, bright and ominous.

  “What are you supposed to be?” Brendan asked.

  “I am a fachen at the moment, for your information,” Rohl huffed, putting his hands on his hips in a manner that was the exact opposite of the fear he was trying to invoke.

  “Wait, I’ve read about them and they usually have like one leg, one arm, and pretty much half of a body. You’re all buff and ripped, Rohl.” Brendan pointed to the two arms and two legs that Rohl still had.

  “Those stories are about runts of the litter. Fachens are brutally strong and vicious with a full body, I can assure you,” Rohl stated plainly. “I accidently teed a big one off three years ago and had to hide
behind Tevis and Fergus, and they were even shaking at the sight of the bugger.”

  Brendan waved off the story. “Great, just start looking around. I have a bad feeling about this.”

  Brendan watched Rohl walk off to the east, mumbling and groaning about fachens, so he took the west side of the enormous room. At first he wondered what this room was supposed to be used for, but it became obvious as he walked closer to the wall. There were dozens of weapons hanging on wooden racks that had been bolted in place. There were glass containers stacked neatly on a heavy table that reminded Brendan of his high school chemistry class with Ms. Wright, although she never had things like niseag blood or crushed bones of a Kelpie in her cabinets.

  He stood by the table and read a few more of the container labels when he heard the subtlest of sounds behind him as he felt the sensation of something being thrown at his head. He sent out a small pulse to deflect whatever it was, causing it to clang noisily against the hard floor, breaking the silence of the room.

  “Crimeny!” a hoarse voice cried.

  Brendan turned around and spotted a pretty young Dryad shaking the sting out of her hands. Her eyes were red and her face was flushed—a clear sign that she had been crying.

  “Relax,” Brendan said, holding his hands up to demonstrate his calm. “I’m Brendan O’Neal and I am searching for Bibe. Is she here?”

  The girl looked at Brendan with doleful eyes. “No. She’s gone.”

  Chapter 11

  Answers

  “What do you mean by ‘she’s gone?’” Brendan asked, trying to coax the answer out of the pretty, young Dryad.

  “What’s going on?” Rohl called, bounding in from the east.

  “Ahhhhh!” the girl screamed as she dove behind Brendan.

  “Whoa! Relax,” Rohl said, realizing that he was still in the form of a fachen. He changed back into his normal, tiny self. “Sorry about that, lass.”

  Brendan waved off the Púca and turned back to the girl. “Who are you? What happened to Bibe?”

  “I… I,” the girl stammered before breaking down into tears. She was collapsing to the floor but Brendan reached out and grabbed her. She pulled into his chest and sobbed.