Plumface placed a bouquet of blood red roses before his gravestone, its façade sculpted in the shape of a Celtic cross, its stone face braided with intertwining knots. Her tiny hands grabbed her son, Baldtoe, squeezing him affectionately, and then gently kissing his forehead.
“I love you, Skullsplitter,” Plumface sighed, finally calling him the name he wanted to be called.
Skullsplitter beamed, returning the powerful hug. “I love you too, mum.”
Izzy knelt down beside his grave, her bright blue eyes drenched in pain, her body still trembling from the overwhelming grief filling her heart. Fergus’s death was still an opened wound, his love torn away from her so quickly.
My heart ached for her. I wanted to help her with the pain, but I knew there was nothing I could say or do.
Hamish stood beside the burial site, his lower lip quivering, suppressing his tears, mourning the death of his son. Mother stood next to him, rubbing his back, inclining her head, starring into the velvety night, speckled with twinkling stars as she began to sing.
If you wander into the night,
If you’re lost beneath the moonlight,
Be not afraid that you are alone,
Be not afraid for it shall be known,
For I shall sing you a song,
For I was with you all along,
Here me cry to you my love,
Here my voice echo from above,
Into the hills we shall fly,
Into the night we shall arise,
And we shall see it tonight,
And we shall see the light,
Then one day we’ll see the sun,
And then one day we’ll be as one…
Izzy’s eyes glanced up to mother after she finished her song. “Where’s Dad?” she asked curiously.
Mother stumbled with her words, “He...he couldn’t make it.”
Izzy’s head cocked to the side, squinting hard at her. “Dad has the same two indentations that all the Màrmann have.”
Mother shifted her eyes around, trying to avoid eye contact with Izzy’s intense stare.
“Who is he?” Izzy demanded.
Mother’s hands danced around like a true New Yorker, shrugging her shoulders tightly. “I found him down by the river.”
“The river?” Izzy crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes on her.
Mother nodded.
Izzy inhaled and exhaled sharply through her nose, her lips compressed. “He’s a Màrmann?”
Mother began to backpedal with her words, fidgeting with her thick fingers. “Well, not exactly. Lainahwyn just drank his blood. He was one of her favorites.”
“Who is he, Mother?” I asked her, knowing most of the men Lainahwyn had fed on or had changed into a Màrmann were most likely not from our time.
Mother let out an annoyed breath, shrugging one shoulder up. “He’s some warrior from the Otherworld. I believe he was in Queen Maeve’s army.” Her voice rose quickly, “But he is human!” she declared, winking at us with a teenage giggle, “and very cute!”
I widened my eyes along with Izzy, gulping down a large swallow as we realized that our father had been some warrior from the Otherworld all this time. Our whole lives we grew up with a man who was in a spell-binding trance, never really engaging at all in life, all because he was under Lainahwyn’s control. And now, what was he? He was still back in New York. Most likely he had awakened to his true self now that Lainahwyn was gone. Was he aware of who he was and what he had been? Did he know that he was married and had two daughters?
I shivered inside, rubbing my hand up and down my arms to keep warm. Blane reached out to me, holding my hand firmly as we looked into each other’s eyes. We were finally together, united as one.
Blane leaned in slowly, his soft lips meeting mine, his warm hands sliding down to my hips, pulling me closer to his body. My lips parted, yearning for his kiss as he his tongue stroked lightly into my mouth, making soft sweeping motions as he pressed his body against my bosom. My hands snaked around his neck, splaying my fingers into his thick hair, devouring his mouth into mine.
An obtrusive voice from behind us cleared its throat, loudly. “Anabel,” Edgar said flatly.
Edgar had escaped Lainahwyn’s wrath after mother had spliced her head open with an iron slug from her shotgun. Afterwards, he stumbled away in shock once her hypnotic voice was no longer stirring in his head.
I pulled away from Blane, breathlessly, wiping my thumb across my moist lower lip covered in spit. “Yes, Edgar,” I said blushing lightly, raising my eyes levelly to see him, and letting my hair whip around passionately in the Scottish breeze.
“I’m going to need a taxi to the ferry,” Edgar said directly, dropping his “Star Trek: Enterprise” suitcase to his side, his greasy hair tousled about from his run in with the Màrmann, his thick glasses broken in two, hanging loosely off the bridge of his nose.
“Of course, Edgar,” I said nodding in agreement.
Hamish stumbled down the hillside. “Is it a taxi you be needing, lad?” he called out amiably, outstretching his hand toward, Edgar.
“Yes, that would be greatly appreciated, sir,” replied Edgar, his leg twitching uncontrollably from his nerves.
“I’m sure Fergus won’t mind if I pick up his day job,” Hamish snickered, smiling broadly with a few teeth missing as he turned to mother. “I could sure use a back seat driver.”
Mother cackled, “Sounds exciting!” She linked her arm through Hamish’s elbow and sauntered toward the driveway.
“Mother?” I called out, my eyes bulging, “what about dad?”
Mother shrugged. “Don’t be silly,” she chortled innocently, flapping her hand down to dismiss me. “We’re just driving Edgar to the ferry that’s all.”
The sun rose over the cresting hillside, the first flames of dawn painting the sky a warm orange and pink color as we welcomed in the dawn’s first light. The sun’s shifting rays of light, beamed toward Leigheas, curled up into a tight ball beside the wild mountain thyme blooming around the purple heather. The sun’s rays glowed around her pale skin, transforming it into a bright light, rising to her feet she headed toward Izzy.
Izzy and Leigheas’s eyes both met silently brimming with pain and sorrow. No words were spoken only Leigheas’s gnarled hand clapping against Izzy’s back, acknowledging her loss and Leigheas’s limitations.
Izzy sighed, rising to her feet.
All of us traveled back through the rocky hillside, scraping past the fragrant heather heading back toward Dunvarghan Castle in the radiant morning’s sun.
♦♦♦
Izzy
I kept my mouth sealed as we entered the Great Hall, rehashing over in my mind what had just happened the night before. All I knew was that Fergus was gone and now I was the Guardian of the Moon Pendant. I had failed to close the Portal and to save Fergus’s life, torn away from me by that heartless meat-head, Vyx. I’d give this damn Moon Pendant up in a second just to have him back.
I headed over to the stone fireplace, still in a complete shock, unaware of what was happening all around me. I chewed on a loose piece of skin on my inside lip, causing it to bleed. The pain felt good, helping me forget Fergus.
“Guardian,” Blane called out, sitting on the edge of a chair, placed on the opposite side of the crackling fire.
I raised my eyes up, once I realized that he was actually talking to me.
“Yeah?” I said nonchalantly.
Blane straightened in the chair, his elbows pinching into his thighs, his fingers templed together. “We must place a watch on the Portal now. Night and day. We doona know what Fae may cross over into the realm of man. Now, it has opened,” he said directly to me. “They could be good or bad, but we will have to stand guard and be prepared for their arrival. It is inevitable.”
I leaned my hand against the stone mantle, feeling the intense heat from the blazing fire, its warmth thawing my cheeks, wishing it would envelope me and take me away from my duties. Perhaps, A
nabel could take it back? I glanced over at her, standing behind Blane, her arms draped around his shoulders, her emerald eyes filled with love.
I shook the image of her out of my head. Anabel had finally found love, who was I to take it away from her? She’d feel the same pain as I did now, yearning for Fergus. My jaw tightened, pivoting to Blane.
“Ok,” I answered, hearing a squeaky gate close down one of the hallways. My head shot toward the dim corridor, my heart thundering in my chest.
Slu emerged out of the darkness, hobbling into the room on one foot, dragging in a few rusty chains along the flagstone floor. The heather pixies zoomed past him, zigzagging in the air, settling their flittering wings above Anabel and Blane.
“Where’d those come from?” I inquired, gesturing at the iron chains.
Slu’s face dropped, his eye bulging, darting his iris over toward Blane to answer the question for him.
“Slu brought them up from the dungeon,” Blane answered, walking over to Slu, his hand raking though the patch of blue hair on Slu’s head.
I cocked my head to the side. “What dungeon?” I asked, lifting an untamed eyebrow.
“We’z found a new room, hidden,” Slu spat with cobalt saliva, nodding his head up and down repeatedly.
I spun around on my heels, racing toward the dungeon’s gate.
“Guardian!” shouted Blane at me, “Who will take the first watch?”
I whipped my head around. “Slu!” I replied, spotting him first. “Tag you’re it! Sorry, buddy.”
Slu’s face frowned, his lower tooth hooking around his upper lip in a pitiful pout.
“Guardian!” Blane called out again.
I let out a loud aggravated breath, spinning around again; wanting to see what was in the dungeon. Curious to know if Lainahwyn’s book of “truths” was really down there.
“What?” I snapped.
“You will need a torch.”
I cupped my hand up, and with just a simple thought, a flame emerged within my palm, lighting my way. I smirked at Blane. “I think I’m good!”
I headed down the shadowy corridor, a wave of flames lighting my way, my feet shuffling along the floor, past the dusty library and kitchen, and then spotting a large wooden door with a wrought iron bar window, leading down toward the dungeons. I waved my hand, sliding the rusty padlock off, the door’s hinges squeaking open on its metal frame.
I nudged my head through the arched doorway, catching a whiff of the dingy damp air. A brilliant flare of flames descended down the spiral staircase, each blaze of orange and red suspended above my head, lighting my way. My hand slid along the rough stone walls, my boot heels echoing against the concave wall, following the uneven curving steps. The heavy door grinded shut behind me in a deafening thud. An eerie chill swept over my body, exploding into a million tiny goose bumps popping up all over my skin.
I exited the spiral staircase and was surrounded by three long dark passageways, one darting out to my left, another to my right, and yet another in front of me. I followed the murky tunnel to my left, its walls lined with medieval torture cells, each one barred with wrought iron. My heart pounded inside my chest as I traveled deep into the dungeon’s gloomy catacombs, poking my head through fashioned iron bars which framed the chamber’s door. I examined each stone-lined room, one by one, observing each one had a trickling stream of rainwater dripping into its chamber, leaving a corroded residue behind, the walls were lined with rusty shackles where the prisoner would be chained to.
My boots splashed through damp puddles, keeping me light on my feet. I knew I didn’t have anything to worry about. Now that I was the Guardian of the Moon Pendant, but I think it’s pretty natural for your heart to drum fervently in your chest when you’re scared.
I believe I must have peeked into a hundred cells, all were empty, and all were not what I was looking for. My eyes flinched noticing a trap door burrowed at the end of the last corridor I was in. I stood above it, tapping the tip of my boot against its rusty padlock, wondering what secrets it held.
My fingers flickered in the air, unlocking the bolt and popping the wooden door open in a thunderous bang. Another narrow staircase curved downward into a black abyss.
I took in a long deep breath and began my descent into the gloom. A fiery path of flames lit my way into a massive room underneath the upper dungeons. Torches were placed in steel sconces along the stone walls, bursting into flames at my command, illuminating the room clearly.
There in the center was a massive iron cage, iron bars knitted tightly together so that no human hand could slide through it. I circled around it, sizing it up, it was at least 30x20 feet, and yet it was minuscule presence in this great room. I peered up, noticing a small crack in the high wall allowed a delicate shaft of light in.
I flicked my hand up, trying to use the power of the Moon Pendant to open the heavy iron door, it creaked open slowly. I cautiously stepped in, my eyes scanning the area for clues as to who could have been so powerful as to be imprisoned here. My eyes stopped abruptly on a light stone on the floor, a single copper vein ran through it. Crouching down, my fingers softly pressed between its hard edges, feeling a groove between the other stones. I wedged my fingers in the space, dislodging the stone, its weight too heavy for me to lift.
I tilted my palm up, slowly the slate rose from its place, floating above a hollowed opening, its slate landing safely beside it.
A draft of icy air kissed the back of my neck as I plunged my hand into the hole, my arm disappeared into the darkness, my fingers fumbling aimlessly in the murkiness until I clasped onto a thick book, yanking it out.
Sitting Indian style, I laid the book onto my lap, gliding my fingers slowly along its spine. I raised the ancient book up to my lips and blew hard, expelling a thick layer of dust. Nestling it back into my lap, I licked the pad on my thumb, smearing off its residue, exposing elaborate intertwined shapes, woven together. It reminded me of the shapes carved into Fergus’s Celtic cross, braided shapes knotted together beautifully.
I used the tip of my finger to crack open the cover, releasing a dry aspiration of air as if the book were alive. I turned to the first page, glancing at more symbols swirled across the page written in some magical language.
My eyes blurred, feeling the Moon Pendant altering my vision, changing the writing from illegible to legible, and the words twisting and unraveling into English.
The inscription read:
Evil is not born into this world of man,
Evil is created in this world of man.
I took in a slow breath, trying to figure out what the words truly had meant. I flipped open to the first page and began to read what looked like a diary.
It read:
Date: 21/07/519
Dear Sister,
It has been too long since I have last seen the sun’s brilliant rays and danced barefoot in the flowered meadows near the river.
I must write these accounts down as quickly as I can for my captor will return and punish me if he finds me writing in this magykal book.
Last night, a strange visitor arrived in my cell. He appeared out of the shadows as if he were a shadow himself. He was from our realm and kindly gave me this book to write into to communicate with you. I fear that he is not one of the Light, dear sister, but since I have been here for so long. I am willing to hear what he says. He knew that we both stole the Moon Pendant and I fear he may come after you, to punish you dear sister. You must be vigilant and aware of this danger.
He did not give me his name, but I dread he is one of the…
Signed,
Lainahwyn, the Light One…
THE END
Or
THE BEGINNING…
The Fae:
Ankou:
In Celtic folklore, the Ankou is considered to be the equivalent of the Grim Reaper. He rides around on his smoldering motorcycle with his skeleton sidecar, collecting the bodies of all who have been touched by the Otherworld.
&nbs
p; Baobhan Sith:
[baa'-van shee] A vampiric faery from Scottish folklore. She uses her seductive voice to hypnotize men into her lair, using her razor-sharp fingernails to suck out her victim’s blood. But, if she injects her prey with her toxic venom, they turn into a Màrmann.
Dryads:
[dri-adz] Dryads are beautiful tree nymphs. They are spirits dwelling within the trees, groves, and forests of Scotland.
Fachan:
[fah-shan] A Fachan is a faery from Scottish folklore. He has one bulbous eye, one arm, one leg, and is covered in bristly hair and dark blue feathers.
Ghillie Dhu:
[gil-ee-du] A Ghillie Dhu comes from Scottish folklore. He is the guardian spirit of trees and harnesses the elemental of earth.
Heather Pixies:
Heather pixies are speedy winged faeries, covered in blooms of purple heather. They have the ability to spring vines from their hands and feet, making them able to carry and restrain anything a hundred times their size.
Leigheas:
[lay-huss] Leigheas is a faery who has the ability to heal men and the Fae. Once her powers are used, she’s helpless and can only regain her powers from the rising sun.
Màrmann:
[mar-mhen] Zombie-like warriors whom the Baobhan Sith’s has inflicted her poisonous venom into, changing them from regular men into her undead army.
Nuckelavee:
[knog-gul-vee] Nuckelavee is a creature from Scotland’s Orkney Island folklore that is known as the devil of the sea. A vile hybrid of half-man and half-horse, its skinless body is covered in raw living flesh. Its horse’s head has only one eye. Centered on its back is a thin rider with no legs, but has long ape-like arms.
Red Cap:
A Red Cap is a murderous faery found in Scottish folklore. He is an old hunch-backed man, carrying an iron-pike, donning iron-clad boots, who is fast as lightning. He dwells in castles and towers, killing travelers regularly to keep his red cap drenched in blood, for if his cap dries out, he will turn to stone.
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