The Mirror Sliver (Legends of Green Isle Book 2)

by Constance Wallace

  “My mom said they were,” Toby stated. “Didn’t she, Matt?”

  “Yes, yes of course they are.” Idril seemed to recall a small snippet of conversation about it.

  The banshee floated in between the group. “I’m Makura. I’ve chosen to be protector of the children.” She drew closer. The smell of death surrounded Idril again. Her voice, barely a whisper, trembled. “Save them if you can. I can’t do what is commanded of me. I’ve become different. I’m no longer the person I was three thousand years ago.”

  “What are the warlock’s plans? You must tell us. I’ve got to stop him and Bera from using the ancient spell,” Nimi pleaded.

  “The children. He plans to use them. Unnaturally take their life force for his own benefit. The first part of the forgotten spell has been woven with the blood of innocence and the unicorn horn. The witch is casting the second at dawn. When the twin moons shine with the sunrise, she will begin the ancient spell. She wants me to bring them to her in the Hall of Mirrors. All the ancient machines of the Fomorians have been gathered there.”

  This seemed to bother the elf. He unfolded his arms and took a step closer. “How will the children be used? Do you know the steps of the spell?”

  “Uthal extended an alliance with the Shadow People. Princess Ceridwyn had been instructed to bring a unicorn horn. That’s the first step. It weakens the mirror prison.”

  “I thought they had all been exterminated. How did she get one?” Nimi’s eyes narrowed.

  “There was one stallion left. He was the ancient of ancients and rode the mist around Half-Moon Lake. His power was the greatest.”

  “Then what Queen Erulisse told me is true. Bera and Uthal have been silently murdering all the guardians of light. Without the unicorn king, Green Isle has been left unprotected.”

  “Morrigana is the last great spirit of defense. It’s unfortunate. When the princess ended the life of the last unicorn, the shield over Green Isle and its inhabitants had been broken. Chaos, darkness, destruction…they have been let loose again. Uthal has unchained the demons. Earth will be next.”

  “What’s the next phase of the spell?” The elf seemed upset.

  “When the princess brought the horn, Bera took the blood of innocence that killed innocence. The princess’ life force was extracted and mixed with an elixir that will be painted over the silver mirror glass. It will soften the restraints of Uthal’s prison. The mirror can be broken.”

  “I take this as being a bad sign,” Idril commented. He remembered the wound he saw on the princess’ hand. She was a piece of the puzzle, then. Her blood needed by the Black Warlock. But why keep her around? And unconscious? It didn’t make sense to him.

  “The second phase. The children are to be straped to a Fomorian machine. Once the light of the sun and the twin moons hit the Orb in its center, it will drain their energy.”

  “I knew she was lyin’,” George said. He frowned. “She isn’t a very nice lady at all.”

  “There’s hope though. Uthal can be stopped before he emerges completely from the glass. You have the ancient magic of my people,” she stated, pointing to Idril. “It can be used to stop him.”

  “How do we get close enough without being detected?” Nimi asked. “He’ll be heavily guarded.”

  “And the magic I have, the wand, it doesn’t allow me to wish death on anyone.”

  “He can be destroyed another way,” the banshee replied.

  “What wand?” George asked. His eyes grew wide. “Do ya have magic? Is it somethin’ that can get us home?”

  “It’s a rather long story. Maybe when we get out of here, I’ll explain.” Idril tried to smile, but his face felt tight.

  “I’m ready to go home,” Caitlin said. “It’s been very scary since we got here.”

  “We’ve been here a long time, too,” one of the twins said. “We want to go home to Mama and Daddy.”

  “Gosh. Do ya think the whole town is pretty messed up right now? With so many of us kids missin’?” George asked.

  “I’m sure it is,” Idril replied. Something inside him knew they needed to hear those words. “Hmm… if I remember, they had everyone looking in the woods. That walled garden and…and everywhere.”

  “Idril.” Nimi pulled him away from the others. “We must form a plan. If you’re going to take responsibility for these five human children, then we need to work together. I must follow the instructions of my queen. I must. Green Isle, and most importantly, Ellyllon, has to be protected.”

  “I understand. But I can’t leave them. Especially Toby. He was…is…my brother.”

  Nimi nodded. He didn’t say anything, but Idril knew that the elf felt his conflictions. He would have to explain it to them later. Matt was the boy who existed on the other side of the mirror. Not in this world.

  “There’s a secret passage that leads from this room into the Hall of Mirrors.” The banshee hovered over the two. “This is where the ceremony and spell are to be performed. I’ll show you the hidden door. It opens along one of the walls in the hall. But you must wait until I’ve brought the children. If they suspect anything it could lead to ruin. He mustn’t know I’m helping you.”

  Idril took a deep breath. So, there it was. Just him, Nimi and Olifur to face the witch and Uthal. Would they be able to outsmart the two? Makura said there was a way to destroy him, but Idril had to discover it. Sighing, he realized that his heart’s desire was to do away with Uthal permanently. Could he use the same wish of making him a mouse? He felt that his mouse wish wouldn’t work. The powers of the demon trapped inside the mirror were too great. No, it would require something else. He had to discover what it was before they encountered the evil in the mirror.

  Floating in front of a large tapestry frayed at the edge, the banshee pointed. “Here is the passage. They never knew this was here. It belonged to us at one time. This fortress you know,” Makura said. “I lived here when it was beautiful.”

  “What will be your signal?” Nimi asked. He pulled at the rusted metal. A small section of the rock slid backwards and revealed a small opening just big enough for a single man, or elf, to pass through.

  “I’ll confront him and Bera before she begins the second phase of the spell. When I question their motives, then you need to make your move. They’ll attempt to tie the children to the orb. You must come out of hiding before then, or it will be too late. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. We’ll be there.” Nimi lit a candle from the table and ducked down into the hole in the wall.

  Olifur followed quickly. As Idril turned to go after him, he remembered Toby and turned back. He saw the haunted expression in the young boy’s face. Toby ran and caught his hand. “Don’t forget us,” the boy said, his eyes tearing up. “Okay? Don’t forget.”

  “Don’t worry. We won’t.” Idril smiled briefly. He understood the fear. He felt the same fear when Olifur brought him back from death. Fear also raised its head when he thought of Morrigana’s instructions about his return to Earth. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to return there. But he knew he had to. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

  “That’s what you said before. When we first came to our new house. ‘Member? And we stood outside lookin’ at the scary door. I don’t think it turned out well at all.”

  Idril’s heart sank. The memory. It was one of the first that came to him. The same fear he saw in the boy’s eyes then now materialized again. Did Toby sense in the past that they were both about to be flung into a world of magic and chaos? Had he promised everything would be all right then? If so, he hadn’t lived up to his word.

  “This time? I mean what I say. I found you here, didn’t I?” Toby nodded. For some reason, Idril felt compelled to kiss his forehead and gently placed a brotherly sign of love on the young boy’s furrowed brow and tousled his hair. “It’ll be all right. This time I won’t fail.”

  Without another word, Idril climbed down the narrow stairs into the darkened hole. Setting out after the small
pinpoint of light of Nimi’s candle, he drew out the wand. The wood was warm. It took a moment, but soon he detected the soft murmur of the voices coming to life. It was time, they said. Time to make his legend in Green Isle.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  It was time. The moment that she and Uthal both anticipated for the last three thousand years had finally arrived. Emotions surged within her. They painfully brought to life parts of her soul that had been dead. Motioning to the Fir Darrigs who stood against the far wall, she held her breath as they pulled the heavy chains attached to the ceiling above. Clanking and groaning, the rusted metal gave way as the rat men pulled the canopy open to the pinkish grey of the pre-dawn sky.

  The witch gazed up at the twinkling stars that regarded the world below them. Do they see the drama that had played out in the minuscule lives of this world? Her mind tried to wrap itself around the prison of Black Isle. The eons she had spent here with Uthal. For a second, her heart opened and cried out in anguish. She had wasted it. Her soul screamed. Then hate and anger rose again and she became stone once more.

  A sound caught her attention. It came softly at first. Then more familiar as it drew nearer. It was the sound of liquid in motion. The rhythmic movement of waves. Peering at the grand door at the other end of the hall, she saw a black mass of ooze flow under the door and into the room. Undulating toward her, it morphed into a black creature with empty eyes and pointed teeth. “They come, missssstresssss.” It hissed and hunched down in front of her.

  “Take another form, Bodach. You know how I detest gazing at a pool of black sludge,” she commanded.

  The shimmer of glistening coal turned into the familiar figure of a young man. It was Matt.

  “Did you accomplish your task?” She remained aloof from the form.

  “The three left of four is now two.”

  “Was it the sword bearer? Did you trap the champion?”

  “I sssssensed magic on him. Very old magic. It wasssss him.”

  “Where did you take him?”

  “The lake of the Fomorian dragon.”

  Laughing with glee, her evil heart relished the emotion of satisfaction. It washed over her like a flood of spring water melted from the coldness of winter. Giddiness, elation, overwhelming joy filled her body. Nothing could stop them now. Nothing at all. She would be free soon. A feeling she hadn’t felt in three thousand years crept into the back of her mind. She began to feel its power. Perhaps she would be free of him, too.

  “But there are othersssss,” the Bodach stated quietly.

  His words made Bera stop her revelry. “Who? What others?”

  “Men from the sssssecond ship.”

  “We’ll deal with them when they get here. How many are left?” Her words rushed out.

  “Only eight. Only eight.”

  With a smug laugh, Bera brushed off the news. “Eight won’t have any power. It’s suicide for them to be here. The warlock will be free from his mirror and will deal with them accordingly.”

  Glancing at the silver glass, she was surprised that Uthal’s face wasn’t pressed against it. His absence confused her. It was strange that he didn’t make himself known at this pivotal place in their time of victory. What was he up to?

  Before she could dwell further on the missing warlock, Bera was surprised to see a large swarm of ravens making their way through the opening in the roof. It had to be Babda, the raven queen. Bera had sent word by messenger the day before, letting her cousin know about the princess’ journey and the success she had with the unicorn horn. As the black winged creatures settled around the hall, the largest one flew to where she stood. Its clawed feet touched the floor and then transformed into an old hag dressed in tattered rags. Babda hacked and coughed. Her spittle dribbed down her chin.

  “Wipe your mouth. You’re so disgusting.”

  “I don’t have the magic to make myself look as pretty as you do,” Babda screeched. She sauntered over to Bera and slowly looked around. Her head bobbled and twisted as she regarded Bera. “We feast tonight?”

  “What are you talking about?” Bera hissed in agitation. She turned away, repulsed by the sight of her relative. Magic had taken its toll on her cousin. She pretended to be engrossed in the pages of the ancient Fomorian manuscript. “Are you speaking of the eight men headed this way?”

  Babda answered her question in a mocking tone. “I know of them. I know they are here. My powers haven’t left me entirely.”

  “You can have them, then.” Bera flipped another page.

  “No. Not the weak Nuada Findi men. The others. The ones who bring the ancient sword.”

  “The sword bearer is trapped. The prophecy won’t be fulfilled. So you can dine on the others. If you must.”

  A sudden cracking noise filled the air. Both Bera and Babda jumped as the mirror frame split at the top. A zigzag line appeared in the silver glass.

  “The elixir is working.” Bera couldn’t tell if she was elated or scared.

  She watched in anticipation as dark smoke swirled within the confines of the silver glass. Soon the face of the demon appeared. She flinched when she saw the anger on his face.

  “Silence,” he yelled when the ravens all began to squawk at once. “You’re wrong,” he bellowed. “The sword bearer comes. The power of Balorn’s sword is close. Very close.”

  “What? How can that be?” She swung around and stared at the Bodach. “I’ve been misinformed, then.”

  The Bodach slinked back into a dark corner. She heaved an exasperated breath. For a moment, she tried to focus on the words of the book in front of her. This had to be wrong. The Bodach trapped the champion because he sensed an ancient magic artifact. It was then that she realized there were more Fomorian artifacts at work. “Damn Morrigana.” She knew in an instant that the ancient being had outsmarted her.

  Stomping over to the changeling, she gritted her teeth. “Obviously, you’ve trapped the wrong child. The information you’ve brought me is false.” She seethed.

  “Much like yours,” Babda said quietly as she followed Bera. Her eyes darted to the other mirror at the far end of the hall. “Could we expect a subplot in your play, cousin?”

  Bera’s eyes glowed in anger. She turned to the raven queen. “Watch your mouth or I’ll clip your wings,” she whispered. “And mask your mind or we’re both doomed.”

  “Prepare the children,” the warlock roared. “Dawn is almost here.” The crack in the frame grew wider.

  Motioning to one of her rat men, Bera quickly instructed the hairy beast to go find Makura. She knew the banshee should be on her way. But just to be sure there weren’t any delays, she told her minion to take another with him. The two Fir Darrigs disappeared out the door.

  “Roll the orb down,” she commanded to the others that were gathered around her.

  “Make sure you position it right,” Uthal demanded. “It needs to be precise. I want to make sure the light hits it perfectly.”

  “As you wish,” she replied. “As you wish.”

  When the orb had been lowered to the floor, she pulled off the drab grey wool cover. The small light of the rising sun hit the milky glass. The machine seemed perfect. Its metal gleamed. It had not aged at all. Not as she had.

  “Do we need to sedate the children?” the warlock asked. “Or do you think Makura has done a good job of keeping them quiet with her songs?”

  “She sings to them often. The spell of the music calms them. But I believe I have them fooled. I’ve promised them they could go home after this. So hopefully not too much whining to deal with.”

  Uthal laughed loudly. The sound was hollow. “Promised them to go home? If only they knew what was in store for them.”

  “If they did, this wouldn’t be an easy process.” Bera expelled a slow breath. She pushed against the glass orb and heard a small squeal as it began to move. The mechanics were still operational. It was functioning. Good. One less thing to worry about.

  Babda and her flock fluttered and screeched in excit
ement when they heard the orb’s motion. The chaos of their noise reverberated in the hall, causing the mirrors to shudder. Bera closed her eyes against the sound. She disliked the birds. Perhaps just as much as she disliked her relationship with the warlock. Running her hand across the cold steel of the machine, she marveled at its construction. Intricate and precise, the way a weapon should be. The ancient relic stood out in stark contrast to the organic elements of stone and wood. Its metal frame was a symbol of eons past. She remembered the day she first saw it on Earth. Its power had been mesmerizing then, as it destroyed a whole continent, sending the land beneath the waves.

  “Did you combine the ingredients?” the warlock asked.

  “Yes. They have been fused together with the words of the spell,” Bera replied. She glanced again at the other mirror. Would it be too difficult to weave another layer into the spell? Could she change the direction of the future? Her mind played with the ideas as she hid behind her wall of disguise from Uthal.

  Glancing to the sky above, Bera could feel the air begin to charge. Knowing how impatient Uthal was, she took the bowl with the horn and blood mixture and stepped up on the small ladder the Bodach had placed against the control platform of the orb. She poured the contents into the top of the round globe as it slowly turned. The red liquid began to swirl on the inside of the milky glass. When the blood reached the bottom, a small hum started deep in the machine. It clicked softly at first, then grew louder. A light filled the globe. The red had completely wiped out the milk white and when the crystal cell in the interior came to life, it bathed the room in a deep crimson.

  Stepping down off the ladder, a sickening smile spread across Bera’s face. Her eyes slanted in wanton abandonment when she saw the machine in the orb’s pedestal unfold itself. Five small thin blades bloomed from the metal. They twisted themselves into legs. Once the legs touched the floor, they raised the orb up and at the base of the legs were small indentations. Space for each of the children.

  “See, my love? See how pretty the machine is?” She looked at the warlock briefly before turning back to the machine. Its spinning took on a new form. Small jolts of electricity arced across the ceiling.