A Witch's Quest

by Leigh Ann Edwards

  “But I cannot simply allow you to leave not knowing what will become of you, whether you will live or die.”

  “Danhoul will come with me and he will see me healed... or killed, for sure that will be what is necessary if the evil cannot be stopped from overtaking me. If my powers grow as it has been predicted, if they are ever used to an evil end, then all of Ireland, perhaps the entire world will be in grave peril, Killian!”

  “Collum and Phelum will be able to tell the council of O’Leary’s attempt on your life and of his deceitfulness.”

  “But will they be capable of makin’ them truly believe it Killian? Brendan O’Leary is influential and trusted by a good many. You are respected and trusted as well, Killian, you have a position on the council and are a most persuasive man. You’ve dealt firsthand with the king as few can claim to. You can make them understand, that although the king is despicable, no good can come from Ireland attacking England. They will trust in you. I know that to be true. Your place is in Ireland to see to it the Irish people are kept safe.”

  “My place is wherever you are, Alainn. My duty is firstly to you and to keepin’ you safe!”

  “If I ever harmed you because of this evil that has already begun to seep into my mind and my soul, I would never be able to bear it, Killian. You are my love, my only love.”

  She felt the tears flowing down her cheeks and she felt him touch her cheek and wipe a tear from her eye.

  “And I know you would not be capable of endin’ my life if it comes to that!” She whispered, “And I would never be able to ask that of you.”

  Killian’s own eyes filled with tears and he turned from her clearly knowing she was correct.

  Danhoul realized she was valiantly attempting to fight the evil, but it was sapping her strength in so doing. As he sliced his chest and poured his own blood on her wound, she screamed out in indescribable pain and he realized it would do nothing. He saw how his own blood seemed to sizzle and almost boil upon touching the open wound.

  “It is because you possess white magic, Danhoul. The evil caused by the cursed blade does not want to see me healed. Your magic is benevolent and only used for the purpose of good. The demon must have also placed a spell on the cursed blade so that the more we attempt to thwart the evil, the quicker it spreads,” she tried to warn Danhoul as she calmed him as well.

  Danhoul knew she was correct for now the wound appeared even more angry and red, large blisters had formed and the blackness surrounding it steadily grew faster and faster.

  “You must get me off this ship!” Her eyes glowed from a disturbing red to a dark black as she spoke to Killian in a deep and menacing tone that was clearly not Alainn’s own voice.

  He glanced at her with distress on his face, and Danhoul nodded to him in regretful agreement.

  “I will see to it!” Killian’s voice clearly depicted his anguish as he hesitantly left the room to speak with the captain.

  “Can you continue to fight it?” Danhoul asked.

  “Not for much longer, Danhoul. I must ask you to swear to me you will take my life if it comes to that!” she moaned.

  “I will!” he agreed without question, though Alainn knew how adamantly he despised the very notion.

  When Killian returned he simply nodded to Danhoul before he took Alainn in his arms again and gently placed a loving kiss upon her lips. She smiled up at him through her agony and touched his face.

  “If I am able to make it back to you, if it is within my power as a witch and a woman, I will, my love. I promise you that.”

  “And I will wait for that day, every day of my life, Alainn.”

  “No, Killian, if I am not back with you by the next full moon, you must carry on, for if I am unable to fight it by then, I will become hopelessly consumed with evil. I hope then never to see anyone I have ever known or loved in my life! I pray Danhoul will be true to his word and end my life if it comes to that, for Killian, my only love, I know within my heart, you could not!”

  She noticed his intense green eyes had begun to glisten with tears once more and she felt her own tears falling steadily down her cheeks.

  Alainn saw Conner fight to hold Lily back while Alainn was placed within the small boat. The captain and the others aboard were simply told Alainn had suffered an injury that could not be properly attended to on board the ship. It was believed she and Danhoul were simply rowing back to London where they might consult another physician on the matter and better attend to her ailment.

  Alainn felt Killian’s lips upon her own, she felt his hand squeezing hers, and she held tight to the sound of his voice and his words of love in her ears before she fell into a deep sleep.

  Alainn appeared only vaguely aware of him talking to her as the tiny boat was rocked back and forth out on the open sea. When next she finally opened her eyes Danhoul saw by the light of the enclosed lantern he held that they were no longer the unusual light blue, but they remained a disturbing dark black. But for the small flicker within the lantern the entire world seemed black. Not a star shone in the sky and the moon was in the phase which indicated there would be no moon to lighten their way this night. But as dark as the night was Danhoul sensed it was not nearly as dark as the blackness that was overtaking Alainn’s very soul.

  “Danhoul, you must tell me you will truly take my life,” she said once more in the deep unnatural voice. “If we can find no way to terminate this evil within me, please promise me you will not hesitate to take my life, for I could not live like this with this foulness within me!”

  She was now sorely fevered and he was somewhat surprised she made any sense at all in her incessant rambling. She looked up at him with desperation and he felt his heart constrict. He hadn’t thought Killian would actually agree to leave her with him. Yet something in her pleading had convinced her husband he would be of better use back in Ireland. Perhaps he had known he would not be capable of ending her life if it should come to that. Danhoul realized how difficult it must have been for him, and he respected the man for listening to her and abiding her wisdom.

  Now Danhoul knew he may be the one who would be forced to end her life, and he wasn’t certain he could actually carry through with it if it truly came to that. He had been trying most earnestly to contact the gods to ask for their assistance in preventing this travesty. No one appeared to be listening to him or answering his desperate pleas. Though somewhere within his mind he seemed to hear the words being repeated over and over “salt water.” He thought himself on the brink of insanity when the phrase was repeated so often within his head, but when he actually heard the loud and purposeful words on the wind, he took heed. Of course he knew of the healing qualities of salt, but he didn’t believe they would have any noticeable effects on a wound caused by a demon-cursed blade.

  As Danhoul gently bathed her brow with sea water, a small amount trickled on the wound that had now spread entirely across her back and shoulders and was beginning to encircle her neck and chest. She winced and cried out, but he noticed where the salt water had touched the wound it had become far less black and the skin was beginning to return to the pinkish tinge that was normal for her. He hurriedly cupped his hands and poured great quantities down her back until her gown was thoroughly soaked. Noticing how much improved the wound continued to appear, he gently lifted her and held her, cradling her in the icy cold salt water.

  He held her there for several moments until she shivered and shook in earnest. Her eyes grew blacker and wide and round and she attempted to stop him. She hit at his arms and cussed him in a low evil voice. She spat and growled at him, but he continued to hold her within the water. It took all the endurance he had to keep her there while she fought him. Her head finally lagged to the side and she appeared to fall unconscious. When he reasoned he couldn’t hold her there any longer for his strength had been nearly drained, he attempted to pull her back within the boat, but realized how truly weak he was and how much larger and more powerful the waves had suddenly become.

>   He bent over the edge of the vessel so that he could more capably pull her back inside the boat when it was struck by a wave that pulled him over the side and into the frigid water. As he fought the heaving whitecaps he saw the massive waves flip the small boat and it disappeared within the swelling sea. He frantically tried to search for Alainn amid the angry water and when he looked up to see the squall approaching, he realized they were caught undoubtedly at the mercy of a mighty storm at sea.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Danhoul was relieved to finally espy Alainn’s long golden hair within the dark unruly waves. After employing much strength and effort, he nearly made it to her when she was tossed further within the water. He frantically fought the furious billows and dove beneath the water, but could not manage to locate her again. When he finally came up for air, he saw the waves were even higher and that lightning and thunder filled the entire sky. The irregular zigzagged streaks of lightning lit up the sky and the booming thunder could be heard even above the roar of the sea’s fury. In utter dismay, he glanced up to see the hugest wave he’d ever seen before or could have imagined, and he cursed the Celtic gods as he was engulfed by the enormous wave and pulled beneath the endless swirling water.

  Alainn was only partially aware of being plucked from the wild, raging sea. She vaguely recalled recognizing the long red hair and the familiar angelic faces of the two mermaids Kenisha and Coventina. She had once rescued Coventina from Mac Lir, the Celtic God of the Sea who had held her prisoner for a lengthy time. Alainn had seen her reunited with her family and her beloved twin sister, Kenisha. Afterwards they had told her they would be eternally grateful and they’d sworn a solemn oath, they would come to her aid if ever she should find herself in need. Back then she had actually thought very little of it and hadn’t believed she would see a time when she would be in need of assistance from mermaids, but she was ever-thankful they had been true to their word. She felt them capably holding her above the gigantic waves until their father, a large, powerfully built merman had located the boat. He lifted it high into the air and spilled the water from it, set it right and then placed her within it. She then saw an equally large and muscular man emerge from the depths of the sea. She was relieved to see he had lifted Danhoul from the water. This was not a merman, but Alainn thought he did seem vaguely familiar, though in her ailing state she could hardly be blamed for not being entirely coherent. The mer-people left them soon after they’d seen them safe, and the storm appeared to have died out, but the other man remained.

  Danhoul was now lying on the floor of the boat and by all appearances, he was lifeless. She needed to know if he still lived. She shivered in earnest as she painfully crawled across the boat and made her way to him. She touched her hand to his chest. The magical spark was, as always, both felt and heard. In response, he soon began coughing and sputtering. He spewed a hearty amount of sea water, and gasped when he finally opened his eyes to see her smiling over at him.

  He sat up and looked at her wound immediately. By the stunned, yet relieved expression on his face, Alainn surmised there was no longer any black to be found on her back or her shoulders. She smiled at him again for she was grateful she was no longer experiencing the agonizing pain like before. Her fever had broken as well, and in hearing his thoughts Alainn knew Danhoul believed she was unbelievably nearly returned to health, until she spoke and he clearly questioned whether her mind had been affected by the cursed blade.

  “A guardian to a guardian?” she asked in a bemused tone as though she were talking to someone else. “I did not know such beings existed!”

  “Who are you talkin’ to, Alainn?” Danhoul questioned, hoping the cursed blade hadn’t left her weak of mind.

  “I am talkin’ to Ardal O’Doole.”

  “Ardal O’Doole, the man Diadra, the spirit in the round tower spoke of, the man she claimed she has loved for centuries?”

  “Aye, he’s here with us in the boat, can you not see him, then?”

  Danhoul shook his head, squinted his eyes in the early morning light and looked closely around the boat, certain she must be delusional and perhaps still feeling the effects of the fever caused by the cursed blade.

  “Show yourself to Danhoul for he has apparently not yet met you. He thinks I am imagining you. If you are to be his guardian sure you must meet your charge!”

  “My guardian? ’Tis absurd to think I would need a guardian!” Danhoul commented indignantly as he pulled at his wet garments that clung to his skin.

  “Show yourself for Danhoul now for he will not be capable of understandin’ any of this if he cannot see nor hear you!”

  A large fearsome-looking man appeared in the boat with them, upon hearing her summoning words.

  Danhoul clearly startled, jumped and sat back against the edge of the boat. The man had long brown hair nearly to his waist and he wore very little clothing. He possessed no more garments than Lugh, the Celtic god, and in truth, Danhoul surmised the spirit-man looked very much like a god. Although he had met many Celtic gods before and had actually spent much time in the realm of the gods, he’d never met this being before. Something about him unsettled Danhoul. Perhaps it was the very notion he wasn’t clearly able to distinguish if he was a man, a spirit or a god.

  “It is truth, I am a spirit, and I was, in part, a human man, but I was also of the gods!” the man provided the information after hearing Danhoul’s thoughts.

  “You clearly hear my thoughts?” Danhoul was taken aback at this. “Even Lugh whom I spent much time with during my stay in the realm of the gods, one of the gods who trained me, is not often capable of hearing my thoughts.”

  “Aye, well I clearly hear your thoughts lad, and it was your desperate thoughts and this young witch’s dying wish that brought me here to you. I attempted to reveal myself to you earlier but needed the witch to speak the summoning words to me for spirits cannot always show themselves without magical assistance.”

  Danhoul remained deep in thought regarding this information as the spirit-god spoke on.

  “I also tried to alert you to the use of salt to thwart evil from a cursed dagger for salt is often beneficial in resisting evil. I see you were capable of hearing my words for the young witch is much improved. Now I will instruct you further as to what now must be done to ensure the darkness from the cursed blade is truly extinguished and forever undone.”

  Danhoul observed the seriousness in the spirit-god’s face as he spoke, and he listened on without question to his certain wisdom.

  “You must take young Alainn’s own charmed dagger and cut the recent wound considerably deeper. When that is done you must cleanse the wound further with salt water and together the three of us will speak a vanquishing spell to drive the evil entirely from within her body.”

  “How do you know of this?” Danhoul quizzed.

  “I was sired by a great Celtic High King who in truth was a god. My mother, though human, was a druid high priestess with great magical abilities. She bore me and my brother and died bringing us into the world, but her knowledge was passed to us through her blood and her spirit. Our father taught us much as well. Although he remarried and had eleven more sons, my brother and I were the only ones who possessed the numerous supernatural gifts and powers liken to the gods.”

  Danhoul listened to the words the spirit spoke but all the while he tended to Alainn’s maladies with swift and concise movements. When he was about to place Alainn’s dagger to her wound, he hesitated for a moment. Ardal touched Alainn’s shoulder. She immediately closed her eyes and her breathing slowed.

  “What have you done to her?” Danhoul questioned in alarm.

  “I have simply ensured she has fallen into a deep sleep so she will feel no pain while you use the charmed weapon upon her.”

  “I am grateful for your assistance.”

  The stern looking face softened at his words, and a slight smile crossed his face as he nodded.

  “Are you really my guardian?” Danhoul asked once more.<
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  “Aye, I am and I know it to be truth as do all the Celtic gods. There is no doubt both you and this witch...”

  “Her name is Alainn,” Danhoul interrupted.

  “You and Alainn,” he re-spoke, “will be of great importance in the battle of good and evil that will be fought sometime in the future. It has been said for centuries.”

  Danhoul felt the color drain from his face for although the gods had certainly never hidden the fact from him, that he and Alainn were necessary to them. Even though they had relived this life many times, always with that purpose at the core of their existence, it disturbed him to think, the gods had known for centuries, it would come to pass, they would be of such importance to a battle between good and evil and the very existence of this world and human kind. He shuddered and the god apparently noticed.

  “Do not be fretful, lad, for I am confident, we on the side of benevolence, of white magic and goodness will prevail. We were victorious once before, so many centuries before. With you and Alainn on our side, so we shall be again.”

  “You were there that day so many centuries ago, when the first battle was fought?” Danhoul queried.

  The god nodded. His already solemn face grew more serious, and his spectral eyes took on a far off look as he surely brought to mind that long ago time and that fateful day.

  “I lived thirteen hundred years ago and as youngsters my brother Odhran was as dear to me as any other. We were given many godly powers not known to man. But when Odhran became a man, he was never content. He wanted more, always he wanted more. He wanted more power, more wealth, more land, more women. He could never understand why I was content with so little. Daily he would ask the gods to be granted more. They soon lost favor with him and his constant greed. They turned their back on him and before long he went to the dark lords and to the Unseelie Court to find ways to make his magic stronger. He dabbled in the dark arts and soon became well-schooled in practices I would not care to think upon. The gods in turn, placed more powers of goodness within my hands in order to be capable of battling him.”