“Let’s head upstairs,” Brendan said, lifting her up.
Rohl led Brendan into the small living area on the main floor; he pointed to a very puffy recliner where Brendan could deposit the girl. “I’ll get a tea going.” Rohl ran off to the kitchen.
“There,” Brendan said, taking a step back, trying to make her feel more comfortable. “Who are you?”
She tried to answer but her sobbing wouldn’t allow it. “Her name’s Sinead and you better leave her be.”
Brendan looked up and around the room but didn’t see anyone. At first he thought he was either hearing things or having a vision, but when an eighteen-inch tall person hopped onto the top of the recliner and pointed a short knife in his direction, Brendan knew the voice was real.
“My name is Brendan O’Neal. I’m not here to hurt you or Sinead. I’m looking for Bibe.”
“You’re too late,” the little man claimed, his face wrought with anguish. “Bibe’s gone.”
“So we heard, but where did she go?” Rohl asked returning from the kitchen, satisfied that his kettle would soon be at a boil.
“She’s gone!” Sinead shouted with watery eyes. “I don’t know if she ran away or was taken by those guys or was blasted to bits, but she’s gone all the same. ”
“What guys?” Brendan interrupted.
“Two guys. I think they were gods,” the tiny guy answered, patting Sinead on the head. “I’m pretty sure of it.”
“Who’s the spaz with the knife?” Rohl asked, standing next to Brendan thumbing in Fynn’s direction.
“I’m Fynn, and Sinead and I worked for Bibe. As a matter of fact, we were preparing for your arrival.” Fynn pointed at Brendan briefly before looking away. “If only you arrived earlier, maybe you could have done something.”
Brendan felt deflated and guilty. Fynn was right. Maybe he should have gone to Bibe earlier. “I didn’t do too well against a god last time; I’m not sure if I would have been much help.”
“What happened exactly?” Rohl said, hopping onto the arm of the recliner.
Sinead and Fynn exchanged looks as if they weren’t sure where to start. Sinead shook her head back and forth slowly. “I don’t know. I was down in the training room rearranging the place for the 85th time when I heard a lot of commotion coming from upstairs. I heard a man’s voice shouting at Bibe and her giving it right back to him. I was about to go up there and see what all of the fuss was about, but someone was coming down the steps and I could hear Bibe’s voice telling me to hide, so I did.” She shook her head, as if trying to fully comprehend what happened. “It was her voice, but it was calm and soft. The strange part was that I could still hear her yelling at that guy upstairs, so I don’t know if I imagined her voice or not.”
Rohl shrugged. “She is a goddess, and you know what kind of a holy show they can do.”
“What did the man do downstairs?” Brendan asked.
“I couldn’t see him but he was riffling through the weapons and such, making a fine racket. I never came out of my hiding place until I heard you moving around downstairs and Bibe’s voice told me to come out,” Sinead said, pointing at Brendan.
“If you knew it was me, then why did you try to bash me?” Brendan asked.
“She said to come out, and I figured I’d come out swinging,” Sinead replied honestly.
“Was anything missing?” Rohl prompted.
“I’m not sure,” Sinead confessed.
“There is something missing, and I know what it is,” Brendan said, as all eyes focused on him. “They took the Sword of the Protectors.” Fynn and Sinead looked at each other sharing a silent message. “Look, I know Bibe took it just before Dullahan and the Magogs arrived in Corways. I can sense that it’s not here anymore.”
“Mystery solved, but what about Bibe?” Rohl urged.
Fynn piped in. “I saw the gods approaching while I was out in the wheat field. They looked like trouble to me, so I began sprinting towards the house. It’s a long way, mind you, but I eventually reached the door and that’s when I saw… ” he hesitated, trying to find the right words. “To be honest about it, I’m not sure what I saw. One moment the big muscular numpty was trying to stab her with a blue sword and the next there’s an explosion of white light that knocked me clear into the bushes across the way. Once my eyes cleared from the spotting, I climbed from the bush and marched back to the front door and found an empty room. There was no sign of Bibe or the numpty. I then began to search the grounds in the hopes of finding some trace of where they’d gone.”
Brendan didn’t want to believe it, but the blue sword that Fynn mentioned drew his mind back to his vision in that blacksmith’s shop on Otherworld and Camulos. He had a good idea who had come to take his sword and kill Bibe. “I think I know who one of the gods was.”
“Well? We’re not playing twenty questions with you. Spit it out,” demanded Rohl.
“The one with the blue sword is named Camulos.”
“Heavens, no!” cried Sinead. “The god of war is in Scotland?”
“He may still be here, but I doubt it,” Brendan replied. “I hate to ask, but do you mind if we look around?”
“Honestly, Brendan, this whole place was prepared for your arrival, so by all means see what Bibe has done for you.” Fynn went back to patting Sinead’s head since she looked even more frightened and upset than she did before.
“Thanks. Excuse us,” Brendan said, motioning for Rohl to follow him.
“What’s up, Tec?” Rohl asked.
Brendan stopped and looked down. “Tec? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Like Protector, oh never mind.”
“I can’t explain it, but I feel like there is something here that I was supposed to find.”
Rohl shrugged. “Maybe it already walked off with that god of war and his buddy.” The kettle began its whistle and Rohl headed back into the kitchen.
Brendan stood there a moment longer, working to take in as much as he could with his senses. “I don’t think so,” he mumbled, feeling the tug of something calling to him. It was here and he needed to find it.
…
Ann wn was a massive, challenging place to try and travel over in the traditional sense of the word, and Della had been almost everywhere that there was to be, but traveling with Argona on the tether was a whole new experience. They moved so fast that it was in a blink of an eye that she found herself on the entire other side of the known realm looking out at Arawn’s castle. It sat cold and lonesome and seemed to be growing grayer by the moment. Della looked up at Argona who was snarling as she glared at the castle.
“Let’s go knock,” Argona said.
Della followed the war goddess up to the castle door. Argona produced a coiled whip from a side hitch on her belt, gripping the handle like an old pro, the feel of the leather like a second skin in her palm. She let it uncoil and fall to the ground, a little shake straightening it out behind her. Argona stood there for what seemed like an eternity to Della before she finally screamed and snapped the whip forward, looping it out and up above her head. The momentum carried the line in an arc behind her head hanging it in mid air, frozen and posing in a poetic pause. The goddess’s eyes flashed over with a vibrant turquoise energy that traveled the length of the whip, charging it with the raw powers of Argona’s rage. Her arm shot forward and the energized whip had no choice but to follow. The whip collided with the large wooden door, blasting it off of its hinges.
“Blimey!” Della screeched, dodging the shards of wood. “I guess you’re not much one for knocking.”
Argona ignored the Puck and marched in to Arawn’s home. “Hide if you like, Arawn, but I’m coming for you.”
…
The first thing Conchar noticed about Caer Wydr—or at least this area of the Realm of the Heavens—was the biting wind that threw icy darts around by the millions. The bits battered his exposed skin, forcing him to raise his hood to protect his face from harm. He spoke a quick incantation and
an invisible field bubbled out of his skin to protect him much like a wetsuit covered a deep-sea diver. He glanced over at Warnach and saw that he had done the same.
“Better protect the Seeker, Conchar, or else we may lose him to the freeze,” Warnach suggested, striding away from the ice-glazed megaliths where they had arrived.
Conchar looked at the Seeker; amazingly he wasn’t crying out in pain or passing out from the cold. The effects were still clear on his skin, which was turning all shades of pink and blue and white. The wizard said the spell again and instantly the Seeker was protected from the harsh environment.
Oscar’s human body wasn’t as durable or resilient as his traveling partners, but he bounced back rather quickly and marched ahead, following a beacon that was known only to him. In no time, the Seeker had passed Warnach—even with his giant steps—and strode into a frozen valley flanked by steep mountains with millions of tons of snow and ice delicately clinging upon them.
“Do you really think we should walk this way, Warnach?” Conchar asked, having finally caught up to the fast-walking duo. “It looks like there could be an avalanche at any moment.”
“Then I suggest you keep your voice down,” Warnach whispered harshly. “Only the Seeker knows the way.”
They walked for a while without seeing a single living organism. Conchar wasn’t sure what could survive in this type of climate, but Earth animals seemed to find a way so he had no doubt that Otherworld beings could do the same.
“What sorts of creatures live in Caer Wydr?” Conchar asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.
“Are we growing fearful, wizard?” Warnach asked with an amused grin.
“Of course not,” Conchar said a little too loudly causing an alarming creaking noise to sound high above their heads across the mountaintops.
“Shhhhh!” Warnach warned. “There is enough snow and ice on these mountains to put us under so deep that no one would find us in a million centuries.”
“Do not question my courage, giant,” Conchar commanded.
“Just your intelligence,” Warnach snapped. The giant kept walking, staring down at the wizard for a few silent minutes. “Most of the creatures in Caer Wydr are harmless and mindless things that operate on the very basics of brain processes, but there are a few predators out there to concern yourself with, Conchar. These parts spewed forth the abominations that are the fachens, after all.”
Conchar barely stifled his laugh before he said, “I’ve encountered fachen on Earth and they are harmless, ugly, half-bodied creatures that are hardly worth worrying about.”
“As you say,” Warnach smirked, leaving the conversation to hang on Conchar’s assessment of fachens, no matter how misguided they were.
…
“Can you give me any idea of what you’re looking for? I mean, it’s a lot easier to search when you have an actual idea of what you’re trying to find,” Rohl complained to Brendan from the top of a heavy wooden hutch in one of the bedrooms.
Brendan glanced up and shrugged. They had been searching Bibe’s house for the last two hours aimlessly. The shock had ebbed a little for Fynn and Sinead and they had joined Brendan and Rohl in the hunt for the elusive whatever that Brendan still couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“He’s right, Brendan, it feels like we’re wasting our time here,” Fynn concurred with Rohl.
“If you can give us any clue, then we will probably know where to look,” offered Sinead.
Brendan was beginning to grow frustrated as well. Rohl, Fynn, and Sinead would grab objects and hold them up for him to see and constantly ask if they found it. It was making it hard to concentrate on the little tug he was feeling.
“Describe this sensation you’re having,” Sinead prompted.
“It’s a small, warm, bubbly sort of thing. It’s very elusive, but there’s something about it that makes it feel wise and welcoming.” Brendan closed his eyes. “It’s all around here but at the same time isolated. I just can’t find where.”
“Sounds to me like you can sense Bibe,” Fynn offered.
“Why don’t you sit down, close your eyes, and we’ll leave you be for a while. Maybe then you’ll have it sorted out.” Sinead led the others towards the hallway.
“Be sure you figure it out,” Rohl warned. “I’d hate to think we spent the last couple hours scavenging around this house when all you had was indigestion.”
…
“Hey, look. A visitor’s center,” Frank said as he, Dorian, Lizzie, and Garnash stepped out of the megalith.
“And pretty much nothing else,” Lizzie added.
“Shhhh. Quiet now,” Dorian ordered. “I heard something.”
Dorian scanned the area around the Standing Stones of Callanish carefully. Her father had told her all about the horrors that happened at Callanish during the third war of magicks thousands of years ago and that alone put her on edge. She looked one of the giant stones up and down and took a measured breath to calm her nerves.
“Dorian,” whispered Garnash, causing Dorian to startle. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out or anything, but shouldn’t we start moving?”
“Yes, of course,” Dorian stepped out of the cover of the stones and led the group towards the visitor’s center, her hands carrying a soft red glow.
“Dorian, are you alright?” Lizzie asked. “I noticed that you stiffened up back in Corways when Rory said Brendan came here. What’s up?”
“Keep your eyes peeled,” she replied. Dorian and the others walked on, everyone on edge because of her curious response to being near the stones.
“What are you not telling us?” Lizzie demanded.
“It’s this place, Lizzie. It’s seen so much blood spilt on this soil.” She took another measured breath. “We’re walking on unholy land.”
“What happened here?” Frank asked.
The group reached the welcome center and stood in the light of the auxiliary lamp over the courtyard. They looked around for anything weird or out of place. Frank cleared his throat.
“Hey, check this out.” Frank waved the others to him and waited. “That is one big footprint.”
“There are more over here!” Garnash exclaimed. “And horse prints, too.”
“You look surprised, Dorian,” Frank pointed out. “Tell us what’s going on.”
“I’m shocked to see that giants are still in the area. There was a clan of them that lived in these parts, different from Magogs, but they were still giants, uncouth, hungry all of the time, reckless. Eventually, war reached these lands and the giants were forced to choose a side. Thousands of magicks died in that war spilling blood foolishly for a world that wasn’t theirs. The worst of that war happened here at Callanish. Giants, necromancers, and Súmaire served the demon mother, Caoranach, who was set on overrunning the Earth with the demons she spawned. If it hadn’t been for Arawn the Celtic warrior and Argona the war goddess, then Caoranach might have gotten away with it.”
“I’ve heard this story as well,” Garnash added. “After Caoranach was defeated, the necromancers blamed the giants for forcing them onto Caoranach’s side and promised to rectify their poor choices by turning the giants into stones and arranging them for the world to see as a monument to their penitence.”
“So classy,” Frank said sarcastically.
“There’s just something about this place that has always given me the shakes. It reeks of evil,” Dorian stated.
“You left out how those miserable necromancers have gone back on their word time and again,” a booming voice said from over the rooftop.
“Yeah, they’re downright dirty, they are,” a second booming voice replied.
Dorian’s hands burst over with red energy and she cried, “Who’s there?”
“Whoa! Look at that, Fergus,” the first voice called.
“More magicks, Tevis. We should have figured.”
The two giants stepped out from around the side of the building and came into the courtyard. Dorian held up
her hands and the giants stopped.
“We are looking for… ” Lizzie began to say until Fergus interrupted her.
“Bibe, right? You’re looking for Bibe.”
“Indirectly,” Garnash corrected. “Actually we are looking for someone else, someone who traveled through these megaliths earlier.”
Tevis and Fergus exchanged curious looks. “You’re going to need to be more specific,” Tevis answered.
“Yeah, this port has been used a lot recently,” added Fergus.
“Really?” Lizzie said for her group. “We’re looking for a young man, brown hair, muscular frame. Have you seen him?”
“You mean Brendan O’Neal. Oh, we saw him earlier,” Tevis confirmed, rubbing his bruised head. “Our friend, Rohl, is taking him to Bibe’s place.”
“They should be there by now, I would think,” Fergus assumed.
“Can you take us there?” Dorian asked, her hands only glowing softly.
“Sure,” Tevis said excitedly.
“Rohl and Brendan wouldn’t let us come earlier,” Fergus said. “On account that we might draw too much attention. Bullocks! We’ve lived a right long time and have never been seen by humans.”
“Hey, I’m Frank. I’m a human, but I’m getting used to all this crazy magic stuff, so I’m not sure I would count against your perfect record.”
The giants shrugged and turned. “This way,” they said in unison.
“By the way,” Garnash said, climbing up Tevis’s clothes to sit on his muscled shoulder. “Who else used the megaliths besides us and Brendan?”
“Not sure of who they were, but I could feel the power coming off of them, that’s for sure. We stayed hidden and let them pass through,” Tevis answered.
“Yeah, they were way scarier than that fachen Rohl riled up a ways back,” Fergus said with a shiver.
Garnash looked down at the others and he knew they were thinking the exact same thing: the two magicks had indeed made it to Scotland.
…
The silence was magical in its own way to Brendan. The constant questions and banging around made the soft beacon almost untraceable, but in the silence he could perceive it so much clearer. Whatever it was that was beckoning him was close. He stood up and crossed the room to the hallway. He glanced down towards the living room and saw that Rohl, Fynn, and Sinead were having tea and talking quietly.
The Dominion Pulse Page 14