The Forgotten Spell (Legends of Green Isle Book 1)

by Constance Wallace

  “There’s a secret mechanism Prince Finley instructed me to devise. It’s a trap door right where we’re standing. I just didn’t know at the time that it was Finley’s plan to place the sword here.”

  Muddied with moss, dirt and age, only partial bits of the sculptures remained visible on the door. Reaching out, Keltrain caressed the engravings with his leather glove, searching for something familiar. The same flying machines etched on the domed ceiling of the Keep’s ruins were also etched into the space above an ocean filled with dolphins and other sea creatures. “I saw these same pictures back at the ruins,” he exclaimed.

  “Many surviving Fomorian artists were commissioned to create portraits and sculptures throughout the providence. Finley wanted to preserve their memories of their home that fell into the sea.” Keltrain’s fingers felt along the carvings again until he found a specific symbol. When he pushed on it, the door mechanism clicked and a rumbling came from under the stone steps. Matt jumped back just as a corner section fell and careened into a cavernous hole that suddenly opened beside him.

  “Ahhh, definitely not that one,” Keltrain said quickly. The wizard dug dirt from around the chiseled indentations, exposing more detail to his eyes, then blew it away. Drawing back, he regarded a section of the door, his brows furrowed in concentration. “Thomas, please retrieve Sonya. We’re going to need her once we’re inside,” he instructed as he continued his study of the doors.

  Matt could hear her high-pitched growls when Thomas picked up the bag. “How dare you treat me this way?” she cried. “I saved your life once, don’t you recall?” When the older boy untied the bag and turned it upside down, the cat fell out, wet and disheveled. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at Keltrain. “You’re so ungrateful, wizard. I wouldn’t have done anything to hurt anyone.”

  “You may have saved my life, and for that I’m grateful. But at what cost? I had to become a fish and you a cat. All because of your treachery,” he retorted. “It’s too bad that I discovered your true self a little too late. I can’t trust you anymore.” He motioned to Thomas. “Catch that feline by the scruff of her neck before she disappears.”

  “I told you I would help you, Keltrain,” she cried as Thomas grabbed her, lifting her from the ground. “There’s no need to treat me like this.”

  Hearing the pitiful cry, Miranda reached out for the cat. “Give her to me. I’ll carry her. DaGon asked me to be responsible for her anyway.”

  “Thank you.” Keltrain nodded slightly. “But be cautious. Hold her tight. We’re too close to retrieving the sword and can’t afford any misfortunes right now.”

  “We should hurry. Before we’re spotted,” Lily reminded the wizard. She darted about, anxiously scouting the valley below.

  Adjusting his glasses, the wizard resumed his study of the carved stone until a slight sound escaped his lips. “Aha,” he whispered. Matt watched intently as Keltrain counted several inches towards the other side. The wizard wiped at the mud and exposed etchings of a crypt set into a hedge maze. When he pushed at the crypt with his thumb, Matt saw the symbol sink into the granite and disappear from view. The action caused a whirling noise to echo from within the frame. It was a surprise to them all when an engraving of a dolphin popped out in the middle of the two doors.

  Reaching out, Keltrain turned the mammal counterclockwise several times until there was a screech and a loud click as the door swung open. A gust of stale air rushed out, toppling the wizard’s hat from his head. He chuckled, picking it up from the ground. “I’m amazed it still operates, but then again, I did construct it for endurance. DaGon, put your strength to use and push it open further, my friend.” The dragon complied and braced his shoulder against the six-inch-thick door, straining against the weight until the door finally gave way.

  “I be watchin’ out here, if you don’t mind,” Lamfada stated warily. Pulling out his pipe, he chewed at the end. “Besides, I be in need of a good smoke.” The leprechaun lit the tobacco and squinted at the bottom of the mountain. “Never know what be out there.”

  “Try to keep out of sight,” Keltrain warned kindly.

  “I be lettin’ ya know if I spot anythin’,” he said with a wave of his pipe. “Or yell for ya if it gets to comin’ too close.”

  Digging into his inner pockets, Keltrain retrieved the crystal he had used at the ruins. He muttered the lighting incantation and the round orb flared brightly. “Be careful. This mountain cavern hasn’t seen a soul for three thousand years.” He disappeared into the shadows. Matt and the others followed cautiously. It was cold inside. The winter had penetrated the tomb enclosure, and covered everything with ice. DaGon blew a gust of fire at one of the coffins, slightly melting the frozen earth.

  Keltrain motioned for Miranda. “Come, bring Sonya.”

  She brought the cat forward. “I believe in you, so please don’t let me down and all,” she whispered.

  Sonya purred. “I saw your three tears. No one has ever given me a gift like that.” When she jumped to the ground, she stretched and licked herself. “Look at my fur. It will never be the same again, dragon, and I hold you personally responsible.” She looked up at the wizard. “I’ll keep my word because of the girl, and only because of her,” she remarked. “I didn’t deserve such ill treatment.”

  “Then lead the way, great sorceress.” Keltrain motioned with his hand. “But know I’m only keeping you alive because of the girl, and only because of her,” he responded stiffly.

  Sonya darted off. “What you’re looking for is down this way.” Her voice echoed in the icy confines of the caverns.

  They carefully followed the cat through many twists and turns. Keltrain held his light high above his head, illuminating their path until Sonya entered an elaborately carved arched opening and disappeared from view. When they followed her into the enclosure, they found themselves in a round room, illuminated by a mysterious blue light. Matt stared at his reflection in an enormous ice mirror on the far wall.

  “What’s this?” Keltrain demanded irritably. “I didn’t design this for the tombs.”

  “No, but someone else did. Finley didn’t trust even you,” Sonya sneered. The cat laughed hard. “While you may have known the secret to the tomb’s door, Finley had me plan the secret to King Balorn’s resting place, and his sword. I knew about all it...even before Queen Erulisse.”

  “What have you done to us, you vile feline?”

  “Finley didn’t want the secrets of the tombs entrusted to just one person. And as you so eloquently put it earlier, this is why you became a fish and I, a cat—betrayal. Your desire for vengeance put yourself in a position for me to take advantage of you. Finding the spell for your visions was no easy task, but getting you to use it was simple.” Sonya sauntered past the wizard. “Finley knew it was only a matter of time before Uthal broke through from Earth to seek the Sword of Balorn, and kill the rest of the Fomorians. Unfortunately, he died before his plan could take place. I had to finish it for him. We needed to know how to destroy the Black Warlock.”

  “So you used me?”

  “If you want to put it like that? Then, yes. I used you.”

  Matt’s heart sank when he saw the thick ice mirror. The reflection that gazed back at him was distorted and unclear. “How are we supposed to get through this to retrieve the sword?” he asked the cat. He couldn’t hold back his contempt.

  “Only the one who unconditionally gave three things out of love can cross to the other side and bring the sword through the ice. Otherwise it stays there forever,” Sonya replied. “I placed a spell on the mirror to select the sword’s Champion as King Balorn requested before his death. He was a friend to me, also, or do you forget?”

  “Thank goodness he wasn’t here to see your surrender to the other side.”

  “There were more things afoot, than you know, wizard.” Sonya sat down at the edge of the ice mirror. “And there still is.”

  “Who’s the Champion then?” Keltrain demanded.

  “Mir
anda. Her three tears shed in love and compassion gave her the heart needed to possess the sword. A heart like that of King Balorn.”

  Miranda’s foot involuntarily moved a step back. “Not me. I’m not brave and all. It’s supposed to be Matt, huh?” Her voice shook and she nodded towards him. “He’s the one to rescue the others. Not me. I don’t have the courage to.”

  Lily flew to Miranda, her voice soothing. “Remember, in Keltrain’s vision, he wasn’t able to see who would wield the sword, dear one.”

  “It’s time, Miranda. You and I need to cross over.” Sonya stood poised at the glass.

  “Wait a minute.” Matt put a foot in front of Miranda’s path, and glared at the cat. “I don’t trust you for one second. You haven’t been exactly kind to any of us, and you’re always disappearing. Who knows what kinda of stuff you’ve been up to?”

  “You don’t have a choice,” Sonya hissed. “The sword’s Champion is chosen. Either Miranda comes or the others die. Which would you have, stupid boy?”

  Matt didn’t know what to say. His mind was torn. Both Toby and Miranda were equally important to him, so it was an unfair request to make him chose. He couldn’t understand, though, why she was chosen instead of him. Maybe it was a mistake and Sonya was wrong. Turning to the wizard, Matt searched for help. “What if she’s leading Miranda into a trap, giving her over to Bera, or worse, the Slaugh?” His arm rose to shield Miranda as he looked into her eyes, his voice pleading. “She’s already betrayed you in the past by disappearing without any word to you, so what’s stopping her from hurting you now? I care about you and I don’t want anything to happen to you. Don’t listen to her. Please.”

  “We’re not in a position to argue with her,” DaGon replied angrily. Wisps of smoke swirled between his scaly lips. He stared intently at Sonya. “We need that sword. If the Champion is the girl, then she has to go with the cat. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it’s got to be.”

  “No. It doesn’t,” Matt insisted. He looked at Miranda. “I am afraid for you...of losing you to...to the unknown.”

  “Yeah,” Ned chimed in. “What if Matt’s right? What if Sonya gives you over to the Slaugh?”

  “Listen to what your heart tells you,” Sonya said softly. She rubbed against the girl’s leg. “You know I’m speaking the truth. It’s time to get the sword. Let’s go.”

  Miranda hesitated and Matt noticed a change in his friend's demeanor. He knew she had made her decision. “Miranda?” he cried. “Don’t go with her.”

  “I’ll be okay,” she assured him, her tone soft and gentle. A strange look passed over her face, and before Matt had a chance to stop her, she lunged into the mirror, disappearing into its icy grasp with Sonya.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Numbness gripped Miranda, the feeling inescapable as she reeled from passing through the ice. Its cold penetrated her skin, hurting like a thousand pins pricking her.

  “Open your eyes,” Sonya instructed calmly.

  Easing her lids apart, Miranda noticed she was only two steps away from the mirror. She pivoted, facing those on the other side. “Can they see us?” she touched the icy surface lightly.

  “No,” Sonya replied, flicking her tail.

  Matt, Thomas, and Ned pounded on the mirror, their mouths open in silent screams. Keltrain’s face showed alarm at her disappearance. She could see him trying spell after spell in an attempt to break the mirror.

  Sonya laughed wickedly. “That wizard never liked surprises.”

  DaGon, with Lily perched upon his brow, watched the commotion with interest. Miranda wondered why they didn’t seem upset.

  “The dragon and fairy are the only ones who truly understand,” Sonya said thoughtfully. “Don’t worry, the mirror is impenetrable. My spell only allows the true Champion of the sword, and myself, of course, to pass its threshold. I would never do anything to harm you. I hope you believe that.” Sonya sat down next to Miranda, and gazed at the boys and Keltrain. “I’ve made my mistakes in the past, but not now. I’ve not been a complete nitwit like the wizard thinks.”

  “I know. I do believe you and all. It’s just...I don’t know exactly whatcha done, but it’s okay.” Miranda sighed. She saw Matt beating the mirror with his fist, and it affected her. She knew that she cared for him and felt he cared for her, too. But how could she make him understand that even though she hadn’t wanted this, it was something she felt obligated to do? Her heart understood it, and she couldn’t explain it. This was her path.

  “Where are we?” she asked, hoping to take her mind somewhere else. Her steps pushed dust into the air as she walked down a corridor leading away from the back of the mirror.

  “We are in King Balorn’s tomb.”

  “This is where the sword is?”

  “Yes,” Sonya replied, slowing her pace. “King Finley didn’t trust anyone with the knowledge of the sword, except me. The wizard was instructed to devise the secret locking mechanism for the front entrance at the same time I was procured to create the magic of the crypt. This way, Finley figured neither one could get in here without the other. Sort of a system of checks and balances. Keltrain always believed he was superior in every way. Ha! Little did he know that King Balorn understood the strength of my magic. It had always been greater than Keltrain’s.”

  “What would’ve happened if we hadn’t met up with you and all? How didja ya know to be there on the road?”

  “I knew DaGon and Lily would bring the chosen four through the portal soon. Signs of your arrival were all around. I just waited for a couple of days and, well, the rest you know.” The cat moved down the path. With each step, crystal lights, placed within the cavern walls, flared into brilliance. They poured soft light on the dusty and polished marble floor.

  After a few meters, the corridor opened into a high vaulted room. The floor was covered with fine granules of sand and glowed with an unearthly light. “This sand’s so warm and all,” she exclaimed excitedly and sank her feet into its depths. “Feels so good after that long night in the cold. We don’t ever get much snow in the south. At least, that’s what Momma says.”

  More crystals lined the midsection of the four walls, softly ebbing light onto an ornate crypt in the center of the room. She could see beautiful paintings of the ocean and tall crystal towers painted on the ceiling and walls. “There’re so beautiful and all,” she said. Slowly, she traced her fingers along the colorful paintings on each wall, studying the images. “Is this the old land Keltrain always talks about? The lost land of the Fomorians?”

  “Yes, this was our home,” Sonya replied, jumping on top of the crypt. “The sand beneath your feet was taken from it before it sank beneath the sea and we were forced to relocate here.”

  “But that would make you...”

  “Very, very old. Keltrain and I... let’s just say we knew each other then. There were greater issues that caused the relocation of magic and its creatures to Green Isle, you know. More than Uthal. Don’t let the Elf queen’s politics fool you. He was just part of the problem.”

  “Are you and Keltrain Fomorian?”

  “No. We lived among them during the time of their empire. They gifted us with the extended life the elves and fairies have.”

  Miranda examined the crypt were Sonya sat. The alabaster covering was molded to the King’s image. She gazed down on his strong features. “He’s so very tall and handsome.”

  “He would have liked meeting you. You both are very similar in many ways.” Sonya rubbed her head under Miranda’s chin and purred. “It’s time to get the sword. Are you ready?” The cat leaped from the crypt and scurried to the back of the tomb, where a small narrow door lay hidden. On it were words etched in the ancient language from the map.

  “What does it say?” She drew closer to see the inscriptions.

  “Wait. You’ll see.” Sonya’s voice waned low and deep in her throat when she read the inscription. Miranda stumbled back as the power of the language roared in her ears like a strong wind. The le
tters caught fire as Sonya said each syllable and reappeared in English.

  “Read the spell, Miranda. It has to be said in your voice,” Sonya gently commanded.

  “Three acts of love unselfishly gifted shall this one the sword be given. Light to conquer and to vanquish the darkest deed so selfishly taken. Give to me the weapon and seal within me its fire.” Upon the last word, the door opened. Miranda glanced down at Sonya as they entered the small room. Even though fear encased her soul, she followed the cat inside. She could hear muffled singing coming from the walls. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, straining to hear the words. “Who is it?”

  “It’s the ancient ones,” Sonya explained. Her ears flicked at the ghostly song. “They stayed with the sword, waiting for its Champion to return. They sing of you.”

  The song continued, getting stronger and louder. Startled, Miranda saw wisps of spirits emerge from the walls. The apparitions flowed around her, their force driving her closer to a pedestal in the center of the room. “These ghosts?” she asked in terror. “What do they want?”

  “They can’t hurt you. They’re just the memories of the people who once walked the Fomorian lands. Don’t be afraid. It’ll be over quickly.” Sonya padded to where the pedestal stood.

  When Miranda got closer, she saw a gleaming silver sword encased in glass on the pedestal. She reached for it and felt a strong energy surround her. “I feel funny,” she said, and held her stomach. “And there’s a strange voice in my head, calling my name. What’s happening?”

  “Take the sword,” the cat instructed. “Only you can claim it. You’re innocent and without magic, and it needs you. Raise it from its slumber.”

  Miranda pushed the glass open and exposed the sword. A powerful feeling overtook her as she stared down at its glowing edge. Her eyes drifted over its length and she saw the jewel-encrusted handle. She hesitated, but only briefly, before she clasped the hilt. A strange energy course through her, electrifying her arm when she picked it up. It hurt. Whatever magic possessed the metal, now wanted to possess her. She moaned and tried to let go of it, but her fingers wouldn’t loosen their grip. “Help me, Sonya,” she cried. “I can’t let go.”