by K. V. Wilson
The Knights of Saint Patrick. Had I ever seen them firsthand, or had Nwyfre and Mac Tíre always kept their battles to themselves? I may never know unless I can get us all safely out. And that includes Nessie.
A thought suddenly occurs to me and I decide to put it into words. Might as well, since these two can read me like an open book anyways.
My astonishment must really get the better of me, because Nessie’s next comment is rather condescending.
The spirit snorts.
A surge of serpentine anger flows through my mind, stinging like the tongues of flames.
I gulp as I sense one of the humans getting dangerously close to us.
The dragon snorts, ignoring my warning.
These are the people who killed Greg in his last life. If they can bring down a great dragon with a single weapon, what’ll they do to us – two young avatars, a traitor, and a man who’s spent more than half his life as a bear? Even if we can free Nessie, how will we ever get out of this place alive? It’s become a lot more complicated than a simple spy mission.
As if life didn’t have enough to throw at us, Koyah suddenly nudges my flank with his little rodent nose. I turn back and he jerks his head to the side. Following his gaze, I catch a flurry of movement.
Xera?
Sure enough, I can sense the spirit of the young Yeva’si woman just as she breaks through the mouth of the grotto.
Xera Shifts to human form and I do the same as I rush to approach her. Terror seeps through her soul and into her words.
“Skye. Knights…”
“Knights?” I hiss. “Where?”
“Everywhere. They have the place surrounded. They…they have Ramsey.”
I swear.
Flint groans.
My heart lurches.
The teen is beginning to break down, perhaps remembering how he died the last time. Koyah comes up beside me, back in human form.
“We can make it,” he assures me. “You said it yourself; we’re shapeshifters. If something happens, we can make it out.”
I gulp. “You’re right,” I whisper. “The only problem is Nessie. How do we free her?”
“Let me take a look,” Sejka’s brother replies, Shifting back into mouse form and streaking like lightning across the jagged rocks and into the dank concrete corridor. Xera and I transform and keep pace with him.
The little brown mouse darts into the torchlight, and I stifle a gasp as I step up to the edge of the corridor. Straight ahead is a circular room about the size of a garage. At its perimeter stretches a walkway with a rope railing. But it’s what’s in the pit that makes my stomach turn.
The Loch Ness Monster lies in human form, spread-eagled and sparsely-dressed upon the parched riverbed. Her limbs are held fast with thick chains, nearly as wide as her arms. The woman’s tangled mocha hair reaches nearly to her knees. Within its locks are bits of mud and weeds as if she’d just completed a journey into the depths of the ocean. I grimace at the sight of the scars on her wrists and ankles where she’d tried to yank off the chains.
“Step into the light!” a deep voice commands. “You there. Get out here and face us.”
Before us stands a cloaked figure, face hidden in the purest of darkness. I can feel his piercing gaze seeking out mine.
Flint steps forward so the torches bathe his tiny head in their eerie, flickering light.
He shakes his head, slowly enacting his transformation. I hold my breath, feeling my heart come to a complete stop as he stands as a human once again. I Shift as well but remain shrouded in shadows. Behind me, Koyah and Xáan do the same, ever ready to utilize their bear or puma forms if things escalate.
To my astonishment, the cloaked figure doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he reaches up and removes his hood, letting it fall aside. A sandy-blond stranger stares directly into my eyes. His dark ones are soulless and revolting, yet somehow enticing. The strange man is definitely attractive, and this sends my heart thudding as I await his next words.
“Nwyfre, I’d presume,” the blond stranger whispers as he turns back towards Flint. “The great Welsh Ddraig.”
“That I am.” Flint spits on the cavern floor, eying some nearby doorways where the other humans have begun to converge upon this one small room. “You have me. What do you want with me?”
The stranger laughs. “What do I want? I want you dead, demon. But the problem is you keep coming back.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Flint asks nonchalantly.
“Exactly what you think it means,” the stranger retorts brusquely, pushing a lock of hair behind his ear. It’s cut to approximately the length of Thirteen’s; it hangs down into his eyes, framing them. “You’ve worn out your welcome, Ddraig. What do you think, Knights? Should I give them a taste of my blade?”
“Pfft.” Flint takes another step forward, staring the Knight down. “How old are you? Twenty-five? You think yourself trained in the art of war?”
“Ha. I could say the same about you. Barely hit puberty and already you stand before me, thinking you can take me and my Knights down. Remember what happened last time, Nwyfre?”
“You were still a snivelling child the last time I faced this castle, boy,” Flint sneers. “I’ve lived thousands of lives before your ruddy excuse for a mother let you tumble arse-first into this cruel world. Get out of here and leave us be, or you’ll be sleeping with the fishes, mate,” the dragon snaps, stretching his arms out to either side. Flames unfurl across his palms, licking hungrily at the dank air.
“Strong words for a little boy,” the stranger chuckles. “I have some for you, now, mate. I said this to Mac Tíre once. Hmm, how did it go again? Ah,
I think I remember. And thus the sacrilegious magitian descends.”
“And we all know where he’s going,” another of the Knights pipes up. I gasp as I realize there are more spirits than I’d thought. They have us entirely surrounded.
Have they found a way to mask their presence? And, what’s more, how have they been concealing Nessie here this whole time? Otherwise, wouldn’t she have tried contacting the other Earth spirits for help?
“Not to Hell just yet, James,” the stranger replies, breaking into a bone-chilling grin. “What purpose would that serve? He’d just respawn.”
“Patercius,” Flint breathes, and the flames in his palms flicker as he processes the Knight’s words.
“Not exactly. I carry out Saint Patrick’s legacy just as you carry out yours. But for one difference: I fight for the light, for the good. I was born and raised a warrior, a dragon-hunter, an assassin. And I’ve been trained since birth to hunt down the Three and capture them. Keep them from corrupting the earth with their tainted ideals and murderous ways.”
“Murderous ways!” Flint scoffs. “And yet you’ve just about rid the world of our Druids, the peaceful, nature-loving—”
“Demons don’t belong here. They don’t belong anywhere. But enough talk.”
The blond stranger unsheathes his sword, and my memories flash to life with the glint of firelight on silver. The familiarity of the blade penetrates my mind like the teeth of a grizzly upon flesh.
“She remembers too, I see.” Patercius’ pawn snorts, jutting his chin in my direction. “Hard to forget the likes of this blade, isn’t that right, Ru-Yeva?”
I have met this man before. Back when I was Sejka and he was…someone else.
No. Not now. Please not now. Concentrate, Skye.
“I knew the lot of you would come. You’d eventually return for this monster, and I would have you in my clutches at last.”
Before I can stop myself, I sink against the floor. Gritting my teeth, I cling to the cold, wet wall of the cave as I struggle to pick myself up again, but it’s no use.
The memories of my past life are resurfacing stronger than ever before.
51
THE SECOND BATTLE OF CONWY
Aelshen
The intensity of Flint’s call nearly sends me off the edge of Miss Rhys’ sofa.
“Excuse me,” I mumble, lifting meself up and withdrawing from the meeting the Lìog Airgid had been coordinating. At least, the members of the League who hadn’t betrayed us. All grows silent and all eyes are on me as I hastily exit the room.
A wave of immense fear and determination floods me mind, flowing freely from Nwyfre’s consciousness.
The rugged face of a young soldier locks eyes with mine. My heart pounds against my chest. It is not Patercius himself, but as I peer into those deep, dark pits he calls eyes, I can sense the familiar soul of a foe I’d thought long-dead.
The great Ddraig roars.
Me words fall short as I catch a glimpse of the Guardian of Nature herself.
Skye is slumped against a far wall, her eyes clenched shut and her mouth twisted into a grimace. Sejka’s brother squats at her side, gently shaking her in an attempt to wake her from her reverie. Tears trail down the young Guardian’s face.
I chuckle.
Me heart sinks as the boy sends another vision my way.
A dark-haired woman is bolted to the bottom of the riverbed like some sort o’ wild animal, her limbs splayed from her body and her face contorted into a picture of pure fear.
A feeling of immense appreciation flows through our spiritual link, and I know that Flint is also going through a different sort of transformation. Nwyfre knew the Loch Ness Monster in a past life. And…he loved her!
A feeling of gratitude, washed over by unbridled fear and anger, seeps into my spirit as Nwyfre withdraws his consciousness from mine. I pray to the earth that the scrawny Flint boy makes it out o’ there alive. I’d better get there as soon as flippin’ possible if I am to secure his fate.
“Alright, listen up, Lìog Airgid!” I bellow, re-entering the room and peering at the wide-eyed mass of Lycans, Yeva’si, and Ddreigiau. “The Knights of Saint Patty and the Soldiers of the Covenant have me friends and allies surrounded. They’re deep below the river, an’ we’ve got to get to them before they’re gone fer good. Who’s with me?”
A rowdy cheer rises up from the gathered members of the Silver League.
I cross me arms, tapping me bare foot in thought. “An’ someone has to go an’ warn Todd Matthews an’ Duncan MacLarty, as much as I hate to say it. Since Matthews’ daughter is involved, he’ll be sure to lend a paw towards this upcoming battle.”
“I will go,” Xunnu offers. “Todd respects me. And, as you said, he’ll be sure to come to his daughter’s rescue.”
David steps into view, Margo at his side. The chemistry professor rubs his hands together nervously. “I will do anything to save my niece and her friends. The problem is we don’t have enough air power to get there in time, do we?”
I rub me eyes, wishin’ we’d have made camp somewhere closer. Mayhap Matthews did have a point in moving us closer to the fray. It was a failure on my part if I must admit. I should’ve seen somethin’ like this coming, especially with the Knights o’ Saint Patty back in the picture. But Patercius reincarnate? No one saw that coming.
“Lycans, allies,” George, the Lìog Airgid’s new alpha, begins, “we leave at once. Dragons, would you mind…?” He glances at Elspeth and Quinn in turn.
Elspeth clears her throat. “Not sure how many I can carry, but I’ll fly ‘em swiftly an’ surely. As long as me dear husband’s in danger, I’ll be rippin’ out some throats!”
I shudder, nodding at the she-dragon in gratitude.
Quinn steps up beside me. “I will fly back and forth as many times as possible, but I, too, would like to give the soldiers some tooth and claw today.”
“Can’t Skye and th
e others get out without fighting, though?” Thirteen pipes up. “I mean, they can all Shift, so—”
“Because there’s something I didn’t tell ye,” I begin, clearing me throat fer emphasis. All eyes are on me again. “Two things actually.”
“And what are they?” George prompts.
I gulp. “Well, fer one, Skye’s subject to her own memories at the moment. She’s rememberin’ a past life – likely a memory triggered by the actions of the Knights. She’s vulnerable fer the time being, but once she awakens from her revelation, she’ll be stronger’n ever. She’ll have the awareness of her past life to guide her and perhaps be more able to understand Saint Patty himself. I’m hopin,” I add nervously.
“What?! She’s down? They’ll kill her!” Thirteen sputters, running for the door. “Quinn! Take me first! I need to get to her!”
“Coming,” the dragon replies fiercely. “Who else would like to go with me?”
A few Lycans follow on her tail, and a few more Yeva’si join up with her outside. The rest of them stay where they are, eyes trained upon me.
“And the second thing, ye old coot?!” Elspeth demands, hands on her hips.
“Right. Hold yer horses, Mrs. Andarsen. They’ve got Nessie and Ramsey imprisoned there. Nobody can leave until they’re freed.”
“Ramsey!” Elspeth screams, bolting out the door after Quinn. “Let me at ‘em!”
“Nessie? The Loch Ness Monster? She’s real after all we’ve been through?” Ace inquires, his eyes sparking to life. Damian echoes his twin’s curiosity, staring at me wide-eyed.
“Nessie is yer friend Flint’s true love, Ace.” I wink. “An’ let’s keep it that way.” I raise me voice, bellowing, “All who can fit upon the backs of the dragons, and all who can fly themselves, we are heading out now!”
“What about the rest of us?” a nearby Lycan asks, eying the crowd that’s gathering outside with the two dragons.
“We’ll be back for ye!” I tell him, stepping o’er the threshold and into the midday sun. I rip the clothes from me body, initiating the transformation.
It’s been decades since I’ve switched to dragon form. I hope I don’t mess it up in front of a crowd this big, but I don’t have much of a choice, now do I?