by Jake Adler
The woman turned towards Axcil and frowned, “I thought you knew. I’m sorry if I have upset anybody as I am not used to receiving visitors.”
Ragni spoke on behalf of the others, “That’s alright lady,” he smiled at her warmly, “this baby announcement seems to have helped to prevent us making a terrible mistake and possibly attacking one another.”
The woman arched her eyebrows at him in disbelief, then waved an arm towards the small golden building, “You are welcome to rest here,” she said softly as the door to the dwelling swung inwards, “but I must first ask you why you need my help?” her eyes rested upon Jetzan as she began to examine every aspect of his face and body in great detail, causing him shift uncomfortably underneath her intense gaze.
“Are you the witch?” Axcil asked suddenly.
The woman turned towards him and pursed her lips, “Does it matter?”
“What’s your name?” Axcil pressed.
“A Troll guardian is not meant to remember such things,” the woman replied.
Axcil frowned at her in confusion, “You do realise that you are an Elf?”
It was the woman’s turn to be confused, “Are you blind?” she asked as she glanced at him, “I may have been on my own for some time, but I still have my eyes.”
Her gaze became more distant, “You all stand here at the source of creation. The kingdom of Nemedia is fed by the Dragon’s Cup, otherwise known by the ancients as the Cauldron of Dagda. It is one of the four great treasures of the Tuatha Dé Danann and is it this that feeds the land, providing the sustenance of magic that keeps the kingdom alive.”
“It is only because you have brought him,” the woman continued as she glared at the bag that Lady Cillina held, “that the stairwell did not close. Others have set foot upon it before and all of them have fallen to their deaths.”
A rush of surprised murmurs ran through the group.
Lady Cillina rose from where she comforted Ellaminva and stood before the woman, “We need you to free the High Dragon. He must be taken to stand before the Grand Council and admit his guilt. Only then can we hope to obtain peace with the Northern Clans.”
Lady Cillina was about to speak further but paused as she saw what looked to be a mirror that rested against the Eastern wall of the building. She frowned as she approached it and stood silently as she stared into the looking glass, “You have always thought that you were a Troll. I suspect that everyone that looks into this mirror eventually is made to believe the same thing,” she remained still as the woman approached, filling the mirror with the reflection of two female Trolls, looking particularly grotesque and sickly as green pus oozed from sores upon their faces.
“Lies have kept you a prisoner here,” Lady Cillina said softly as tears filled her eyes, “you are a beautiful young Elf woman. In return for the freedom of the truth that I offer, I ask that you release into my custody the High Dragon. I swear that he shall face justice for what he has done.”
The woman continued to stare into the mirror, holding up her hands to touch upon her face, as if feeling it for the first time, “Tricked?” she gasped as hot tears ran down her cheeks.
“Aye lass,” nodded Gizurr, “you are quite the beauty for sure. I’d certainly offer to buy you a beer or two if I ever met you in a pub and that’s a fact.”
Ragni tutted and elbowed Gizurr in the ribs, “Have some respect, she looks young enough to be your daughter.”
“Well she isn’t is she?” snorted Gizurr, “She’s been trapped here for over two thousand years, made to think that she’s an ugly old bird and fooled by some arse wipe into protecting a lump of rock that is perfectly capable of looking after itself.”
Ragni pursed his lips and nodded slowly in agreement.
The woman had watched the exchange between the two Dwarves and realised that it was no act, “Will I die if I leave this place?” she looked at them suddenly in fear.
Axcil grimaced, “Give the Dragon a lock of your hair, he shall fly beyond the range of the magic of these mountains and if it remains unchanged when he returns, we shall know the answer to your question.”
The woman readily agreed and cut off a lock of her hair, to which Vank took immediate flight to travel beyond the boundary of the mountains. It would take him over two days of hard flight each way, but the task was an important one and the group were determined to not leave the beautiful young Elven woman alone for another day inside her prison. Furthermore, they had now garnered the support of one of the most powerful Elven mages in all antiquity, held captive since the dawn of Nemedia’s creation. She would now free the High Dragon and help force his confession at the Grand Council of the Tuatha Dé Danann. As she no longer remembered her own name, she was given the name of ‘Skydda’, which means ‘protector’, in deference to her previous role as the defender of the Dragon’s Cup.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ethan stared at the back of Cara’s head, admiring the way her shoulder length blonde bounced gently in response to each step of her horse. His thoughts and emotions had cleared, now that curse from the Throne of Vines had been removed and he let his thoughts drift towards the night of their first kiss. There was no denying that he liked her but he wondered about the nature of the strange look that she sometimes gave him. It left him feeling uncertain and he was inexperienced in the ways of the heart. He remained uncertain if it was a signal for him to act or if she was just merely attempting to figure out how much she liked him.
He wished that he could ask her but was afraid of learning the truth. He suddenly sensed eyes upon him and turned to find Talina smiling at him with an amused expression. Feeling embarrassed at her gaze, he turned away but moments later he glanced towards her once more to find her still watching him. She suddenly pouted out her lips and made a kissing motion towards the direction of Cara and he felt his cheeks burn bright red.
“I have the same problem,” said a voice behind him.
Ethan twisted in his saddle to find Roban approaching him upon a chestnut mare. The young mage pointed towards the daughter of Lord Acheron whose name Ethan couldn’t remember, “but I also have the added problem of having to adhere to complex social protocols.”
Ethan looked at him blankly, “Does she know how you feel about her?”
Roban shook his head, “Not sure, we have exchanged a few short glances, but it could just be wishful thinking on my part,” he pursed his lips then smiled sadly, “besides, her culture is very negative about the inclusion of outsiders.”
Ethan frowned, “If she likes you in the same way, surely there must be a way?”
Roban smiled at him then nodded, “I was thinking the same thing about you.”
The two young men grinned at one another as their horses entered port Milvin. Their eyes widened in amazement as they stared at the transformation that had already taken place. For the past several days following their victory against the Demons, the soldiers had been busy in securing the island against the possibility of a further attack. Barriers made out of wood and barbed wire surrounded the town that extended as far as the Eastern shoreline. Huge watchtowers made out of timber from the surrounding forests and heavily armed entranceways were the only access points into the port, although their wood had been crudely crafted each plank was reinforced with strips of iron that were secured with metal ingots. Lord Acheron had remained true to his word. The island was rapidly being fortified and it was already now with great difficulty that it could ever be conceivably be retaken by the Demons.
On the seventh day following their victory, a fleet of ships arrived. They came fully laden, with their hulls resting low in the waters as they slowly sailed into the harbour. Their cargo contained a wealth of building materials, ammunition and food supplies, to further supply the fortification of the island as well as to feed the hard-working soldiers who were rapidly depleting the current food stores of the town. They also brought with them additional canons, of the same type that had been used so effectively by the armada, but this ti
me they were unloaded from the ships and placed both inside the town’s main port and around the perimeter of the library of the College of Mages.
The Grand Mage had remained aloof during the past week, often spending time alone or only speaking with Molgarth. As ever, he kept the Book of the Seer close to him at all times but he was also often seen reading the tome of the Wizard Manannán. Ethan did not doubt for a moment that the delay in their departure to the Thirteenth Tier was due to a very good reason and he did not press the Grand Mage on the matter.
He sighed as he slowly ambled towards one of the campfires where Cara was busily adding more wood in preparation for heating some broth for the evening meal. She glanced towards him only momentarily, before continuing on with her activities but despite the fading light, Ethan noticed that she seemed to behave more nervously at his approach. He had noticed her behaviour change towards him over the past couple of days, often wondering if it was his over-active imagination that was at work or if indeed, she seemed keen to make an excuse to get away from him, whether it was to rush her words to end speaking with him or to suddenly remember a task that she needed to do.
He had angrily kicked at a dried stick upon the ground as he saw Talina wink at him from across the other side of the campfire, “May I have a word with you please?” he said sternly as he motioned for her to take a walk with him.
Talina nodded silently as her eyes twinkled mischievously.
They walked in silence for some time. Slowly, the orange glow of the many campfires inside the port grew smaller and the sound of voices grew fainter. It was then Ethan turned towards her, “What have you been saying to Cara?” he growled as he felt his face flush with the heat of anger.
“Just that you fancy her,” Talina replied calmly.
Her lack of emotion him even angrier, “Is this what is making her so nervous to be around me now?” he spluttered as he flapped his arms in frustration.
“You’re a fool sometimes aren’t you?” Talina laughed warmly at him.
Ethan blinked.
“She fancies you too,” Talina said, “but she is afraid that the two of you may become distracted and put the lives of others in danger.”
“She really likes me?” Ethan smiled at her awkwardly.
Talina nodded slowly and remained silent.
Ethan began to pace the ground, “She is probably right, we must-”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Talina interjected in irritation, “life is short, so kiss her.”
Ethan stopped pacing and nodded, “I will,” he said as he turned on his heels and strode back towards the camp. With each step he increasingly doubted his resolve, but he knew that the eyes of Talina were now upon him and if he backed down now he’d look even more foolish.
Cara had her back turned to him as she was crouched down, busily arranging the bowls in readiness for serving the hot broth. Ethan ignored the rush of excited whispers from the trainee mages that were seated around the campfire as he strode determinedly towards Cara. Without pausing, he grabbed hold of her left elbow, spinning her body around and pulling her toward him as he planted a kiss firmly upon her half opened mouth. At first, her body stiffened in shock then softened as she as she returned his kiss. After several long moments, the two breathless sweethearts came up for air to a loud round of applause.
It was then that the camp saw the approach of Master Bedwyr. The applause immediately died down as they saw his sombre expression, “It is time,” he announced softly as he stared at the worried expressions of those around him, “we must enter the Thirteenth Tier tonight.”
Lord Acheron and Bruja stepped forward from the shadows, “A small group is needed to minimise the chance of discovery,” his light grey eyes suddenly hardened as they locked upon those of his daughter, “Bruja shall join this group.”
“Then I’m coming too,” interjected Roban as he jutted his chin forward and stood protectively beside Bruja.
The eyes of the Grand Mage rested upon those of the young man, flitting briefly between his face and that of the young woman’s as he studied their expressions closely, “Very well,” he nodded, “but the others shall be of my choosing alone.”
“What have you learned?” Ethan enquired as he reluctantly pulled himself away from Cara.
“An intelligent question,” the Grand Mage moved his gaze towards him, “we must contact the rebellion. They fight against the blood lust of their High King and our best hope to help us to sanctify the portal.”
Molgarth stepped forward, “Although I do not remember my past, I sense that I somehow had a connection with the rebellion,” she raised her eyebrows as she stared down at the current form that her body had taken, “whatever I am, I know that I am different to the Demons and the answers that I seek lie inside the Thirteenth Tier.”
“How do we even get there without running into thousands of Demons along the way?” Ethan grimaced.
“That was a danger that took me many days to solve,” held forth the tome of black leather, edged in gold leaf that belonged to the Wizard Manannán and tapped his right index finger upon its warm leather cover, “inside there is a powerful incantation that will enable us to travel directly there, although where it takes us remains unknown.”
“What if we land on the Eleventh Tier, or First Tier?” Cara asked in alarm.
“Then we’re toast,” Ethan replied.
The Grand Mage shook his head quickly, “We shall land on the Thirteenth Tier, of that I am certain, but beyond that I know nothing else.”
Silence descended upon the campsite as everyone considered the weight of the Grand Mage’s words. The group that was chosen would arrive upon a strange, dying world with no maps to guide them and no way of knowing how to contact with the rebellion. They would be forced to travel blindly, in the heartland of the enemy in the faint hope of stumbling upon the rebellion, to gain the help from one of its members to sanctify the portal.
“Molgarth, do you remember anything that could be of help?” Cara asked.
The woman nodded faintly, “I think that when I arrive there, sights, signs and places may help us find the rebellion.”
Ethan ran his fingers through his short, dark hair, “It’s not much of a plan,” he sighed, “but it seems that it’s the only one we have at the moment.”
Molgarth’s blue eyes fixed upon his with an intensity that he found strangely comforting, “We shall find the rebellion,” she nodded towards the Grand Mage, “and Master Bedwyr can use spells of illusion that can help you to travel unnoticed amongst the Demons, at least for short periods of time.”
With heavy hearts, it was that very night that Ethan, Cara, Master Bedwyr, Bruja, Roban, Talina and Molgarth bade their farewells to the rest of the group. The soldiers were to remain under the command of Lord Acheron, who had already been appraised by the Grand Mage of the necessary incantations to remove the curse upon his people. It was agreed that he would also guide the activities of the trainee mages until the return of the Grand Mage. If the Grand Mage had not returned after five days, Lord Acheron was given permission to proceed to enact the spell that could free his people on his own. The man had remained tight-lipped about what he had traded with the minions of the God Odin in return for their initial guidance of his path that enabled him to obtain this help. There was something in his behaviour and mannerisms that seemed to portray to Ethan his sense of surprise about how recent events had turned out. However, although Ethan found being in the man’s company uncomfortable, the man had so far remained true to his word and he had no known reason to mistrust him.
Their arrival upon the fabled Thirteenth Tier was disturbingly swift. Master Bedwyr asked them to move close together in a circle then had drawn an image of a pentacle upon the ground around them in salt, mixed with the blood of one of the corpses of the Demons. He then opened the tome of the Wizard Manannán and began to speak the words of power. Ethan did not recognise the language spoken. It was not Latin, nor of any other recognisable tongue, with vowels an
d consonants that were more like a series of spits, grunts and hisses than anything human-like in origin.
Their surroundings suddenly shifted, as if hit by an unseen powerful force. Then a blinding blue-white light that filled the air was quickly followed by a deafening clap of thunder. The companions arrived, dazed and blinking against the glare of angry orange skies above their heads as an uncomfortably hot wind swept across the lands of the Thirteenth Tier. The grasses beneath their feet had died long ago, leaving behind nothing now but their whispering charred remains that broke and scattered beneath their leather boots, sending dark shapes and dust that swirled around them, almost choking them as they lifted the folds of their cloaks against their faces to protect their lungs against the polluted air.
They saw that they were stood atop a large hill, most likely closest to the uppermost Tiers of the fires that raged above them. Further below there remained signs of life and greenery, so they quickly began to descend towards what looked to be the heart of a valley. After a couple of hours of steady travel, the air began to feel more bearable, although it still retained a strong scent of smoke.
As they entered the valley, a small creature suddenly shrieked in alarm, flapping its dark wings quickly as it leapt from the ground behind a bush and rose into the air. Its behaviour struck them as odd, as instead of flying away, once in the air it kept a constant distance between them as its dark eyes studied them closely. After what seemed like an eternity as they stood staring at one another, the creature finally turned and swooped down low, remaining close to the ground now as it adeptly weaved its way in between spindly-looking shrubbery, before finally disappearing off in the distance into more dense foliage.
The eyes of the Grand Mage narrowed, “It seems that our arrival has already been noted and we have no way of knowing if that creature was friend or foe”.