The Screaming Stone: The Otherworld Series Book 2

by N. K. Vir

  “The problem is we don’t have enough information,” Robert finally conceded.

  “Aye,” Knackers agreed. “The only thing we know for certain is that Annie must be reunited with the Battle Crow an’ Battle Queen ta strengthin’ an’ renew the veil.”

  “That does no’ mean splitting Annie in two!” Duncan argued.

  Annie sighed in exhaustion. The physical demands of forcefully restraining an ancient goddess were beginning to show. She could feel the dark circles that had begun to form under her eyes as the exhaustion of the day was beginning to build along with the mounting pressure to let the goddess out. The only thing that seemed to ease the building pressure inside of her was the comforting touch of Duncan. It was something she could not afford to do or she feared the scales would tip in favor of Duncan’s group. After her conversation with the wise woman a few days ago she was convinced that the Lia Fáils was her only hope. Only Fiona had been present when her “grandmother” had spoken to her and had pleaded with Annie to follow through and make the trip to Ireland and the ancient site of Tara. She had promised her that there were answers in Ireland that could not be answered in Salem. She had promised the wise woman that she would not repeat what she had been told. Although right now she was quietly debating going back on that promise.

  Silently she pleaded with Griffin to agree with her. She needed the uncertainty to be over. Time was quickly ticking away as Midsummer’s Eve was rapidly approaching. A decision had to be made tonight or else she would take drastic steps and set out for the Lia Fáils on her own. Her mind began to spin as it raced through a variety of options; but each one seemed as impossible as the next. Images and thoughts from her human life and its Sidhe counterpart screamed in unison for her attention; until after minutes of senseless images, and a blossoming headache, she focused on one seemingly outrageous idea.

  “Sam,” she whispered out loud.

  As each group had continued to highlight its pros and the other pointed out the cons, Griffin remained immune to every word spoken and shouted but somehow he heard her one whispered word.

  “Sam,” he agreed nodding his head. Annie wondered silently if he had been waiting all this time for her to make the suggestion. It was something she would not put past him.

  The name worked like a domino as it fell first from Annie’s lips, to Griffin’s, next to Kat’s and finally Robert’s until everyone in the room stood quietly waiting for Sam to either be explained or reveal himself. The humans in the room continued to silently converse through brow and facial movements as they argued without words, the idea, amongst themselves.

  “It’s been so long since I’ve talked to Sam though,” Robert whined seemingly uncomfortable with the suggestion.

  Annie barely hid her amusement as the Fae tried to follow the silent argument and failed leading a frustrated Duncan to bark out the question no one else seemed willing to ask.

  “Who in the hell is Sam?”

  Kat arched a humorous brow at Duncan. “At least he’s starting to talk like us,” she admitted with the shrug of a shoulder.

  Duncan growled in response.

  “Remember laddie she’s on our side,” Knackers reminded him as he laid a calming hairy hand on Duncan’s shoulder.

  “Sam’s a- uh-,” Griffin stuttered as he searched for the right word to describe Sam, and having failed looked to the others for help.

  Kat shrugged her shoulders and Robert went uncharacteristically mute. Annie gave Robert a quick glance and saw his normal mocha colored skin tone bleed out to a pale shade of gray. Realizing no one was willing to explain Sam, she spat out the first thought that came into her mind.

  “Sam is an oracle.”

  Every face, save Robert’s, quickly snapped in her direction. A warm flush crept up her cheeks under the scrutiny and irony of her situation. Annie was, or rather had been, the hardened skeptic in the room. Using the word “oracle” in a sentence without any hint of condescending tone was something she never had imaged herself saying, ever. So using the word out loud was akin to verbally pinching herself to make sure she was still awake and not dreaming. It was almost as painful as the physical pinch Fiona had given her the other day. She still sported a fading bruise on her backside. Once again she was faced with the very real and otherworldly turn her life had taken.

  “Never mind them, from what you’ve shown me you spoke true. Sam is indeed an oracle. Tis a word they all understand,” reassured the normally silent goddess within her.

  “An oracle?” Finn asked in bewildered awe as his amber eyes landed on Robert.

  “An oracle,” Griffin reaffirmed nodding in appreciation at Annie. She slowly and loudly exhaled as she and the goddess within grew more enthused by the idea of consulting Sam.

  “Why is this the first we’ve heard about Sam?” Duncan questioned with heavy skepticism.

  “Because Robert’s the only one who actually talks to Sam,” Kat answered as if that explained everything.

  When Duncan opened his mouth to reply Griffin quickly cut him off. “Because oracles are not to be consulted unless all other options are exhausted; because delving into worlds humans don’t comprehend can and has led to dangerous consequences.”

  “So why speak to the oracle now?” Duncan asked squinting at Griffin.

  “Because,” Annie said before Griffin could. “We both think it’s a good idea.”

  Any further argument died with that statement as it became clear to all that both human and goddess agreed and no one had a counterpoint to the two beings that inspired two separate, yet equally devoted followers.

  After a limited amount of debate two ambassadors were chosen one from each side. Although this was the simplest thing that had been discussed all night, Rian disagreed with the chosen ambassadors. “I see that Annie should go as this all concerns her an’ wit Duncan on our side both are obvious choices.”

  Everyone had quickly agreed that Duncan and Annie would and should represent the opposing factions within the Derby Nine. The irony of course did not escape anyone’s notice. As two beings that had fought the monsters of time and hindrance to be reunited the fact that they still remained separated by similar obstacles now saddened everyone. The division had not gone unnoticed by Annie either. She knew that Duncan had fought, hard, to recapture the love that had been stolen from him by Bres. It upset her that they could not agree on the best way to reunite him with his lost love. Although they had grown close over the last few days she could not even hope to replace a woman who had inspired centuries of searching.

  Griffin was to be the neutral party, the deciding vote, and so his presence was essentially a given. It was Robert that Rian had a problem with. His presence tipped the scales of balance and that was what was bothering Rian.

  “I assure you Rian once Robert speaks to Sam any opinion he may have will be lost,” Griffin finally explained.

  With Knackers starting to back the usually quiet Rian the groups began teetering on the verge of further dissension as the Fae on either side began to fight amongst themselves again. The air in the room grew thick with negativity and tension as both sides battled to gain ground and seal their own personal victory.

  “Enough!” shouted an exhausted looking Kat. “Here’s what will happen. Robert will go and get Sam. You will all get to meet Sam and then Robert will talk to Sam in the presence of Griffin, Annie and Duncan. Or so help me…,” she threatened pointing a shaking finger at everyone in her group. “I will side with them and this whole thing will be quickly decided.” Kat was terrifying in her angry glory. Her usually cherub looking face transformed into an angry and terrifying sculptural mask that could frighten a Christian demon back to the comforting depths of hell. This time was no different as every head nodded instantly in agreement with her violent proposal.

  Once again Annie had to hide her amusement; albeit not her own. “I like that feisty one. Always have,” acknowledged the faerie princess. Annie silently agreed with her. If Kat were ever to gain a positi
on of power things would get done, fast.

  With the terms of Sam’s introduction to the group finally decided Fiona prepared a late, late night snack during which newly created party lines were crossed and old ones reinstated. The three diminutive Fae chose to remain with Fiona in the kitchen while Finn and Duncan sequestered themselves in the back room while Annie retreated to her last safe spot in the world, her garden.

  The mid-June evening air was unseasonably warm even though there was steady breeze that skimmed off the ocean inland bringing with it the taste and smell of the cool Atlantic. Annie inhaled deeply drawing the mixture of calming seaside air and perfumed flowery earth deep into her lungs. It was a scent unique to this one particular spot on the earth, and she loved it. She allowed her senses to experience and imprint the memory upon her frail psyche. She indulged herself one last quiet moment at night in her garden with only the waxing moon as her witness.

  As much as she yearned to leave her garden and sprint to the comforting sound of gentle waves upon the small rocky shore of the Wharf she held herself still. The Wharf held too many ghosts and it could never offer her comfort as it once had. This spot, this tiny square space of land was all she had left. It held no ill memories, only happy ones. This space knew nothing but joy and laughter. Everyone had a happy spot, at least she hoped everyone had one, she was just lucky that she could physically visit hers, at least for now. Whether it was tomorrow or the next day, soon, all too soon she would have to leave it behind, unsure if she would ever be able to return. Doubt painted with negative thoughts threatened to taint the joy that surrounded her as a single tear fell from her tightly sealed eyes. Roughly she swiped away at the sorrow that threatened her. She refused to taint the ground beneath her feet with such ill will and sadness. There would be no tears falling on her garden tonight or any other night she silently promised herself.

  The squeaking of her garden gate coupled with the creaking of her screen door alerted her senses that she was not alone. With one last deep breath she inhaled all the past happiness she had surrounded herself with, held it in and allowed it to permeate every cell in her body both Fae and human. With nothing but black blank thoughts present in her conscious mind she opened her Sidhe colored eyes ready for whatever Sam would tell them.

  Chapter Five

  Death Has a Voice

  Duncan’s conversation with Finn was cut short. Not that much had been resolved between them. Finn was and always had been the Captain of the Green Riders of the Sidhe; who had sworn an oath to protect the royal Sidhe of the Seelie court. His oath and loyalty drove his opinion on the matter at hand regardless of whether or not he had been at one point, human. He was a hero to a nation and a hero to the Tuatha de Danann, nothing would sway him from an order issued by the Queen and her High King. Although Duncan had taken a similar oath he could not so easily ignore his own past. He was once a human, a man, who had been taken from his home and made, no forced to become what he was now; a Faeriedae. He refused to see another light of humanity taken from the world of man to bolster an ancient dying race. The Sidhe, Seelie and Unseelie had chosen their path long ago. His oath to the Seelie compelled him to help them but his consciousness, his lingering humanity and his heart pushed him to find an alternative means to reach that goal; and so he might never agree with Finn again.

  “Robert has returned,” Finn said quietly.

  “Aye,” Duncan agreed as an excited chorus of mingled voices filtered through the closed door.

  “We can only hope this new oracle gives us the direction we so desperately need.”

  “Aye,” Duncan replied again.

  A chill filled the room as both men silently accepted the familiar presence of death as it soundlessly stalked the night air in search of prey. Duncan knew that neither he nor Finn feared their own death. Both men knew that one day they might see a Beansidhe washing their armor clean of blood before the battle had even begun signaling their death was eminent. Neither feared the omens of death that would one day come to seek them out. What both men feared above all else was the death of the company they were sworn to protect. Duncan rose to his shaking legs feeling ill prepared for what was to come. He had a strange feeling that death was shadowing the Derby Nine. Several lifetimes had passed in time as he had hoped and prepared for the day he could bring her home. Now, upon the eve of that day, he hesitated unsure of what he really wanted. Once again fear seemed to paralyze him as his feet felt rooted to the ground unable and unwilling to face what he must face just beyond the thin barrier of the door in front of him.

  “Duncan,” Finn’s voice said soothing his nerves as much as the steadying hand that came to rest of his shoulder. “Never have I fostered such a son as you. You are brave and loyal almost to a fault. They will need that before this is over.” Without acknowledgement and filled with more bitterness than love, Duncan opened the door and steeped into the dark.

  Robert had followed Annie into the house with a box wedged under one arm and a large paper bag clutched in his other hand. He was alone and Duncan was confused. Where his words failed Knackers’ did not.

  “Do ya harbor a wee pixie in yer box? Or has Sam decided no’ ta show himself?”

  Robert silenced him with an uncharacteristically evil glare. “I have everything I need but an egg and some sugar,” he explained to Annie.

  “I think I have both,” she reassured him with a quick nod.

  “Already on it,” chimed in Kat as she seemingly magickally provided both items. When Robert stared at her questioningly she simply shrugged her shoulders. “You always eat out. I’m surprised you have sea salt.”

  “Are we baking a cake?” Finn asked sarcastically.

  “Shh,” Robert hissed. “Sam is- touchy. Unless given the proper respect Sam won’t help,” he explained.

  “Do you need anything else?” Griffin inquired.

  “Red Brick dust,” he said. “But seeing as how we’ll be talking to Sam here and since Annie’s foundation is made out of brick I thought it best to use her brick dust instead of mine.

  “What does talkin’ ta an oracle ‘ave ta do with the dust o’ a brick?” Asked Knackers as his hand crept towards the large box Robert had just placed on the kitchen table.

  “Everything,” Robert snapped as he slapped Knackers sooty hand away. “Don’t touch that. Griffin, I leave you in charge of the – uh, box,” he stated. “Sam always did like you best,” he muttered as he snatched the egg from Kat’s hand and headed towards the bathroom. “Kat, Griffin you know what needs to get done,” he called over his shoulder before he slammed and locked the bathroom door. Kat took quickly to her cue and began shooing everyone out of the house.

  “An’ just where are we ta go?” inquired a surly Knacker.

  “To my rented rooms,” Duncan answered absently as a sudden unease seemed to settle over him. The feeling emanated from the innocent looking box on the table. His eyes were not the only ones that felt drawn to it and as much as his curiosity beckoned him to open it caution warned him not to.

  “I do no’ think I want to meet Sam anymore,” whispered Fiona nervously. Rian was even more upset by the mysterious box and quickly agreed with Fiona by nodding his head rapidly.

  Duncan spared them a quick glance but remained silent for the moment. Rian was nervously clutching Fiona’s apron strings, all of his newfound bravery stolen away from him by the sight of an ordinary wooden box. Fiona was no better as she began wringing her red plump hands while she chewed on her bottom lip. Duncan felt their fear just as surely as he was beginning to feel his own. The only Fae in the room who seemed unaffected by the deathly energy emanating from the box was Knackers. His hand had begun creeping towards the box again; he stopped suddenly when he realized Duncan was staring at him.

  “An’ just how are we ta get into yer rooms?” Knackers asked crossing his arms across his chest in childish display of stubbornness. His cat-like eyes squinted up at Duncan as he started tapping his toe in a poor imitation of the High King. Th
e posture did nothing but make Duncan angry.

  “Are ye made o’ magick o’ no?” He barked back. At his answer he could have sworn he heard laughter emanating from the box. He quickly glanced around the room and was relieved to see he was not the only one to have heard the sound. Finn stood shocked and wide-eyed, staring unblinkingly at the box.

  Knackers huffed in exasperation before he, Fiona and Rian winked out of sight.

  “You too Finn,” Kat ordered.

  “If it bothers no one I’ll leave with you,” he replied quietly, his eyes never leaving the box.

  Kat seemed to contemplate the statement before deciding she had other things to do. She grabbed Annie by the arm and dragged her through the door into the basement. “Come on girl, we got brick dust to collect.”

  When the room held only Finn and Duncan, Griffin spoke up confirming what they had both heard. “Yes you heard laughter; and, I think Sam knows you Finn.”

  “What’s in the box, Griffin?” Finn asked, his voice barely reaching the sound of a whisper.

  Griffin was saved from answering as Robert re-entered the room, “Samantha, my ancestor and as I have come to learn, by a little good old fashioned research, an old acquaintance of yours Finn.”

  “How does your ancestor fit into a box?” Duncan asked with a shaky edge to his usually steady voice as his curiosity barely beat out his trepidation.

  Robert didn’t answer and instead began emptying the contents of the crumpled brown paper bag that had accompanied him and Sam. Duncan shot Finn a sideways glace. Finn’s usually stony face was gone and in its place was a look Duncan had never seen on him before, fear. The amber color of his irises where almost completely consumed by the inky black of his pupils. His rigid posture carried across every muscle in his body as he appeared more stone than man. Duncan shot his eyes back to Robert who was arranging an assortment of clear packaged herbs and resins on the table.