by J F Rogers
“The majority are in the cells and the guard’s quarters. Though some are likely in the wine cellar, despite my orders.” He rolled his eyes. “Miscreants.”
“Have you seen these underground lairs?” King Aleksander asked.
“Aye.” Alastar nodded.
“Then we have another problem. You’re best suited to lead us.” He squinted at me. “Do you need to have been there once before to transport us?”
I tipped my head back and forth. “Uh. Not necessarily. I mean, I can get you there. But it’s not an exact science. It would be better if I’d been there before.”
“Is it possible you might deliver us to the wrong location?”
I didn’t like the direction this was taking. “Yeah.”
“Then it’s settled.” King Aleksander gave a firm nod. “Alastar will lead us.”
Drochaid… taken away? I sucked in a breath. “But how will I communicate?”
“You simply need to be connected to Drochaid to understand us, correct? Even if that connection is through another person?”
Something within me didn’t like being pushed aside. But it made sense. Why had I never thought of that? All those times I could’ve just held Kai’s hand, and I might’ve understood? “I don’t know. It might.” Then I remembered my manners. “Your Highness.”
“Good enough.” King Aleksander clapped so loud, I jumped. “Everyone rest up. I’ll ask the kitchen staff to prepare an early breakfast at sunup. We’ll leave for Turas promptly thereafter. King Abracham and I will remain to work out minor details. Alastar, we could use your assistance for but a few moments, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” He clasped his hands behind his back as the rest of us vacated. I held the door for Pepin, but he remained at the table.
“Is there something I can help you with, Pepin?” King Aleksander’s kind eyes peered down at him.
Pepin tugged on an ear. “We’re delayed in meeting the pech in the Somalta Caverns. I’m concerned they may attempt to attack without us.” He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “And it seems Fallon can use Turas without me.”
Ouch. Why did that sting?
“Are you suggesting we deliver you to the pech?”
Pepin drew his lips into a thin line and nodded.
“Very well. If there are any pech you’d like to bring with you, alert them. We leave in the morn.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.” Pepin’s eyes shone, his solid shoulders loosening. He bowed, smiling as he left the room.
I closed the door after him and sighed, hoping he wasn’t upset with me. I didn’t want him to leave on a bad note. But, for the moment, we had bigger issues.
The battle would begin tomorrow.
Chapter Nine
◊◊◊
I WOKE FEELING AS if I hadn’t slept at all. My legs and shoulders ached, and my head still didn’t feel right. Perhaps it was something in this place.
By the time we arrived at Turas, I felt great. It made no sense. I’d just walked more, but somehow recharged and ready to go… other than the annoying sensation behind my eyes. That remained. But my biggest concern was the bloodsuckers overtaking us, breaking the line, disconnecting me from Drochaid. What would happen if I got separated and had no way to communicate? Or worse, what if I was left behind?
I shook it off. No point worrying about all the possibilities. I couldn’t do anything about them, anyway. God had a plan. He’d see us through this… somehow.
Kai grasped my hand and squeezed. “Be careful.”
“I’ll be fine. God’s got us.” I smiled to reassure him. And myself.
He opened his mouth as if to say something more, but he closed it and stepped back, releasing my hand. His gaze made me uncomfortable. I gave a little wave and entered Turas.
Our army filled most of the circle. Weapons hung at hips or behind backs as everyone linked hands. Pepin’s comrades took up the ends of the row, ready to disengage. Reinforcements awaited our return outside. Hopefully, this wouldn’t take days.
Since our first mission was to transport Pepin to a place no one had ever been and I had the most experience, King Aleksander permitted me to lead with Drochaid. I placed Drochaid in its recess and repeated the date to return us to the time Turas was whole and fully functional. Pepin held onto my arm as he manipulated Drochaid. The second we arrived, I sensed demons. Their presence pressed upon me, and I wanted nothing more than to drop to the ground and wallow in self-pity.
Moans and cries rang out down the line in both directions.
Everything terrible that ever happened in my life flashed before me. It was all God’s fault. He took my brothers from me when I was just a baby. Then He took my mother away and had my father murdered when I was three.
“Fallon!” King Aleksander doubled over.
“No one let go.” Wolf dropped to his knees.
If it weren’t for God, I wouldn’t have been left with my grandmother, and she wouldn’t have hated me so.
Pepin’s grip was like a tourniquet around my arm, cutting off the blood to my hand holding Alastar. “Get us out of here!”
I fought to capture the rogue thoughts. Part of me knew it wasn’t God’s fault things were so bad. But my heart wasn’t getting the message. A prick of light pierced the looming darkness. You are loved.
Was that God? Only He could love me even as I blamed Him for everything horrible in my life. I held on to those words. “Pepin, help.”
Pain twisted Pepin’s face. He looked up, tears welling in his eyes.
“You are loved, Pepin.”
His face twitched. Understanding crept into his eyes, overtaking the fear. He set his jaw, nodded, and swirled the stone face, and I imagined the redheaded pech huddled together, awaiting their retaliation in the Somalta Caverns.
The vice of misery lost its grip.
Everyone took a moment to get their bearings after the spiritual onslaught.
We appeared in an underground cavern full of redheaded pech.
Pepin released my arm. A few pech spotted him and gasped. One fell out of his chair garnering more attention. Awareness spread until all eyes riveted on Pepin.
“Pepin?” An elderly pech with long white hair and a sparse beard approached with a wide smile and open arms.
“Annar.” Pepin closed the gap and gave the man a hug.
So, not all the pech from Pepin’s past were bad. Then again, he didn’t talk about them much. I only knew they’d sentenced him to the death penalty for believing in God. But he survived somehow, so they had to release him. And, though he traveled a lot, he was in the Tower of Galore when we found him last year. So it couldn’t be all bad.
“When I caught word we were joining forces with the gachen to fight the fasgadair, I wanted to help. Then, when I learned my former student and charge was leading the pech, I joined the council.” The old man’s toothy smile grew wider still as he clasped Pepin’s upper arms. “We’ve been waiting for you… somewhat impatiently, I might add.” Annar leaned in as if whispering in Pepin’s ear, but loud enough for me to hear. “I can’t wait to see Magnar take orders from you.” He winked.
Pepin snickered, giving a feeble attempt to hide his laughter behind a fist. What was that all about? An inside joke? I’d never seen Pepin like this. He collected himself. “I’ve brought others.” He motioned for the dark pech to join him.
The dark pech released their hold, severing the connection. Whether it was their sudden or physical appearance, or both, the red-haired pech gasped again.
“Torsten’s beard!” someone cried.
King Aleksander broke away from us and bumped his head on the low ceiling. He stooped and addressed the gawkers. “I’m King Aleksander of the Ain Dìleas in Bandia.” He pounded his chest twice as Pepin had taught him. “We thank you for your patience and apologize for the delay. Fasgadair overtook Bandia. Pepin can explain further. We are returning to reclaim the kingdom. Once Bandi
a is secure, we will join you to purge the fasgadair from these lands as well. We have new weapons, which Pepin can also share. Until then, forgive our departure. I trust you will continue to await our arrival.”
The pech responded with gaping mouths, unblinking eyes, and slow nods.
“Very good, Pepin.” He thumped his chest twice, then grasped the hand at the end of the line, disappearing from their view. “Fallon?”
“Right.” Time for the battle.
Chapter Ten
◊◊◊
ALASTAR GRIPPED MY WRIST while I manipulated Drochaid and imagined the fortress rooftop in Bandia. A bird swooped down at us. Maili broke formation and shot the bird from the sky. She then slung her bow over her head to free her hands. She, Wolf, and another male gachen with a shock of red hair eyed one another and nodded. Silent and stealthy, they darted across the roof and paused. Once each was in position on three sides, they flipped from the roof into the windows below ninja style. Thuds rang from below us, then a whistle. My cue. I imagined us down inside the fortress.
Maili stood over a jaguar. Blood dripped from her knife and seeped from the cat’s wound. “There was only one.”
“That we saw,” Wolf added.
Cahal poised his battle-axe over his head, ready to strike. The feline jerked, and Cahal’s triceps twitched.
“Hold your position.” King Aleksander held up a fist.
A breeze swept through the wide, open windows, rustling the leaves, carrying a faint whiff of electricity.
The animal writhed on the ground, its tongue lolled out. Then it stilled.
I held my breath. With each second ticking by, I doubted it would revive. I stared as if watching a pot, waiting for it to boil, not breathing. It jerked, and I jumped, then loosed a nervous laugh. The jaguar shuffled to its feet, blinked, then cowered from those not linked, standing over him. He skulked backward into a corner and bared his teeth.
One man pulled a cloak from a sack and threw it at the animal.
The jaguar jumped back from the covering, eyeing it as if it might attack. Crouched low, he crept nearer, keeping an eye on those he could see. They backed up, giving him space. The jaguar snatched the clothing in its teeth and tromped down the stairs. Within seconds, a boy of around fifteen reemerged wrapped in the cloak, inching his way up the stairs. “Who are you? What’s happened? I’m not a fasgadair anymore?”
Maili smiled. “God has redeemed you.” She turned to us, her eyes shining. “That was Wolf’s blood. It worked.”
Thank You, God! That must mean the blood of all the redeemed could convert fasgadair. Even in animal form.
“How? Why?”
“We can explain later.” Wolf fingered his sword hilt. “This is their land.” He motioned toward King Aleksander. “And we’re taking it back. Care to help?”
“How’d you get in here?” The boy glanced around as if he expected to find a portal.
“The bird is gone,” the red-haired ninja said.
A crowd shuffled to look out the window.
“There’s the arrow, but no bird,” the same gachen said.
“The dust might’ve blown away.” Wolf backed away from the window.
“Or there’s a redeemed out there among the fasgadair.” Why’d I always have to imagine the worst possible scenario?
“Let’s continue with our plan.” King Aleksander tipped his head toward Maili and the red-haired ninja. “The fortress is in your hands. Stay alert.”
Maili bowed. “God be with you.”
“And you.” King Aleksander fixed his gaze on me. “As we planned?”
I placed Drochaid around Alastar’s neck. A surge of electricity shot through me as we touched, just like with Declan. I looked around, making sure Declan wasn’t too close. I didn’t want to start the triplet fire accidentally. But he stood a few people away. I held my shaking hand out to Alastar. “Don’t let go.”
Please, please, please, don’t let me get disconnected without a language translator.
“Not to worry.” Alastar grasped my arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Once everyone attached, I swirled my finger along Drochaid’s face for the next jump.
He closed his eyes, and we reappeared in a dim cave. It reeked of mold and electricity—fasgadair. They slept like dead bodies on the stone floor. On their backs, hands folded over their chests. They didn’t even appear to breathe. They all wore the same dark cloaks that blended in to the stone floor. The stark contrast of their white faces made the ground look like a sea of disembodied heads.
Our men broke off in formation. Four stood in front of the king, Alastar, Declan, and me. The rest crept toward the sleeping demons. Alastar kept his grip on me and Declan hovered close by, should we need to ignite our fire.
The crew between us blocked my view. Slashing knives and gurgles broke the silence. Screams of rage and cries of surprise. Then thumping shook the cave. I imagined human-sized fish flopping against the floor. The second battalion pushed back, squeezing us in, probably to give the fasgadair room to flounder.
Our men gasped at whatever they were witnessing. I craned my neck. But they blocked my view. Perhaps it was better that way.
“Well done, men.” King Aleksander spoke in a hushed voice.
I understood him. Was it because I was linked to Drochaid through Alastar? So, King Aleksander’s assumption was right.
“What happened?” a bewildered voice asked.
“God has healed you,” said someone else.
Similar conversations muffled into the background as Wolf approached, parting the crowd. “I’m uncertain of the death toll. The dust was disturbed in the skirmish. But there were only about fifty fasgadair here to start.”
“How many were saved?” King Aleksander asked.
“Twelve.”
“Out of fifty?” My heart compressed and my lungs refused to draw in air as though an elephant sat on my chest. “That’s all?”
Cahal grimaced. “’Fraid so, lass.”
So not a good ratio.
King Aleksander cleared his throat. “Remember the plan. With each attack, we’ll leave behind two men with the redeemed. Give us time to clean out the other lairs before moving up into the main floors.”
A bloody person I didn’t recognize, probably one of the transformed fasgadair, stepped into my view. “You plan to leave us here? With no weapons?”
“I assure you, you have the ultimate weapon. Should a fasgadair attack, your redeemed blood will protect you. I’ll leave Faolan to explain.” King Aleksander eyed Wolf, who nodded. “We have God and surprise on our side.”
Wolf signaled a man to stay behind with him and the redeemed.
King Aleksander swiveled to Alastar with his hand out. “Ready for the next attack?”
“Aye.” Alastar gave a firm nod.
Ready or not, here we come.
Chapter Eleven
◊◊◊
HOW MANY UNDERGROUND LAIRS did this castle have? By the time Aleksander was satisfied that we’d cleared every possible hiding spot, only Alastar, Declan, King Abracham, King Aleksander, and I remained. Every attack played out much like the first. But I was tiring. My stomach growled.
“Time to return to the selkie lands for our reinforcements. Then we will finish this battle and reclaim the castle.” King Aleksander looked tired and giddy at the same time. Eyes wide, he vibrated as if he’d just emptied his third bag of an intravenous coffee drip.
Alastar held Drochaid’s cord out to me as the amulet remained in its depression in Turas. “You know where you’re going now, right?”
“Right.” I threw the cord around my neck. “Thank you.” Tension eased in my shoulders as Drochaid returned to its rightful place. No more worries about getting disconnected without being able to communicate. I snuck as big a bite as I could manage from the jerky in my pocket, grabbed Alastar and King Aleksander’s hands, and waited for the word that everyone was connected.
&
nbsp; When we arrived at Turas’s home in the selkie lands, the sun hung high in the sky. The wall came to a grinding halt.
The awaiting battalion stood with bulging eyes and gaping mouths, weapons ready. From their perspective, we’d left Turas with a full enforcement of soldiers. Now, six haggard and blood-splattered people stood before them.
“What happened?” A selkie man pushed forward.
“All played out according to our plans.” King Aleksander approached the troops. “We’ve decimated the fasgadair army. We have one hundred and two warriors lying in wait, ready to storm the castle from below. Our men have the fortress secured. If Alastar’s calculations are correct, we now outnumber the fasgadair in the castle. Once the castle is recovered, we’ll fan out to where his former troops are stationed throughout the kingdom.”
The man waved his troop forward. Once again, we filled Turas’s inner circle.
But what if demons awaited us? My heart wrenched, and I shuddered at the complete despair that had met us on the last trip. I never wanted to experience that again.
“All joined!” someone shouted.
My hand hovering over Drochaid shook. Part of me wanted to remove the amulet and refuse to use Turas ever again. But we’d left so many men in Bandia, waiting for us.
Kai. I glanced behind me to where he stood, near the end of the line. His smile and nod reassuring me, I took a deep breath. God, help us. I squeezed my eyes shut. “April 24, 1521 BC. April 24, 1521 BC. April 24, 1521 BC.”
We returned to the past, and despair pressed in on my soul. I couldn’t let it take root. I remembered God’s words—you are loved—and let those words tumble around in my mind as I pictured the underground lair where we’d left Wolf. He snapped to attention at our arrival.
King Aleksander broke the connection. “Greetings, Faolan.” He eyed the redeemed fasgadair standing to attention. “Ready to fight?”
“Bandia will submit to your rule before the day ends.” Wolf bowed.
“Ha! I like your enthusiasm, Faolan.” King Aleksander smacked Wolf on the back. “I believe you’re right. And I leave you with more soldiers. Keep them at the rear. They don’t have redeemed blood to protect them. We’ll reconvene at the bottom of the main stairwell to the kitchens. Hold your positions until then.” He swiveled on his heels back to me. “Do you remember the next one?”