Dark Waters (Celtic Legacy Book 1) (20 page)

I bent and lifted the five foot long coral snake up and put her across my shoulders where Luke had been aiming to have his arm. Cora didn’t seem all that taken with Luke either lately, had in fact tried to bite him on several occasions.

Luke snorted and stalked away from us. He was beautiful, I cared for him, wanted him even, but it still felt like a betrayal. And damn it, he knew better than to try and Charm me!

“
More training?” Cora asked as I started to walk again. I nodded. “Yes.”

Shifted her body across my shoulders, her muscles contracting and relaxing until she was more comfortable. “When will you leave?” She asked.

I stumbled to a stop, stared straight ahead at the training field in front of me. “How did you know?”

“
Ha! Quinn, how foolish do you think I am? I have no doubt that you will strike out on your own once you feel you are ready to face Balor.” She said. Her tail flicked around, the red tip stinging my cheek.

“
Hey! What was that for?” I asked, my hand covering the whip she’d given me.

“
You don’t yet know how to kill Balor. So how do you think you will beat him, hmm?” Cora asked. There was a self satisfied tone in her voice that I heard all too well. But, I knew if I didn’t play our conversation right, she wouldn’t tell me what she knew. So, I held off on the questions that burned the tip of my tongue.

I took a step and then another, slowly making my way to the field and the dummy that hung from one of the trees. I’d been working with my innate abilities all day, the ones that allowed me to create power bolts, light fires and raise Barriers. Now it was time for the sword work.

Lowering Cora to the ground, I watched as she made her way to one side where she could work the dummy. Using her innate abilities, she’d make the dummy jump, swing and flip around in order to give me a more realistic workout. Magic, who’d have thought it even existed, let alone that a snake could wield it?

I slid my knife back into its sheath and pulled out the longer swords that rested in the double spine sheath at my back. The bigger swords were Tuatha made, the same as my knife and they too had great abilities and strengths. Though I couldn’t Call them as I could my knife, they were still good swords. One had flames crested down the edge of the blade, the other snowflakes, dainty and pristine in their design. No one would tell me how to use those abilities the swords were forged with. I grit my teeth and set to my practice. Either, someone would teach me, or I would figure it out, one way or another I would master what the swords had to offer.

For the next hour I hacked and dodged, parried and thrust, slicing the dummy from every angle. I imagined Balor in front of me and re-doubled my attacks, removing each of the dummy’s limbs until it was just a bulky torso. The tree from which it hung shuddered under my attacks, leaves falling down around me as I fought. It was in these moments that I let myself think of all the mistakes I’d made, everything that had brought me to this moment. My fears, how they’d crippled me, my mother and her lies, Ashling and her belief in me. Tears streamed down my cheeks, mingling with my sweat. And, then there was Bres. Though I’d done my best to try and forget him, my heart wouldn’t let go of the man who’d followed me into the Labyrinth, the man who saved my life and stole my heart. Even though it had been months, I couldn’t let him go. Nor did I want to. His violet eyes haunted me, but I would rather that then forget him. Even if I now had to call him my enemy.

My clothes were soaked with sweat as I finally dropped to the ground for a break, my body exhausted, my mind still racing with questions. After four months training, I knew I still had a lot to learn. What I’d managed before had been done on pure instinct, the need to survive. What I’d also learned was that Cora knew a lot more about the Tuatha then even the Tuatha realized. They had written her off as an old lady, one who didn’t have it in her anymore to face battles, and one who’d forgotten anything of importance.

They were wrong.

“
So how am I going to kill Balor? I’m training, doing everything the council has asked of me and then some.” I said, I drove both swords into the ground and then wiped the sweat from my face with the edge of my shirt.

“
You understand about the making of Tuatha weaponry?” She asked. I nodded then realized she wanted me to recite it for her. Damn history lessons.

I took a breath and began. “The Tuatha were the first to forge metal into more than what it was before. Using their abilities with earth, they were able to bind certain weapons to their owners, and even bloodlines like my knife. Many of the weapons created have been lost over the years.”

She bobbed her head up and down. “I’ll bet your mentors haven’t told you about the one weapon that will kill Balor.”

I stared at her, my mouth open and ready to catch flies. Dropping to my knees I stuck my face in hers. “Tell me Cora. I know you want to, I know you want me to have this weapon otherwise you wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

She shrugged, a rippling of her muscles, blue scales catching the sunlight. “It is part of your destiny to have the weapon, sword as it were. But there is a catch.”

Always, there was always a catch. I let out a sigh. “Tell me.”

“
It’s missing. Has been for some years now.” She said. Her tongue flicked out to taste the air and she pulled her tail around to point the tip at me, if a snake could grin, she was. “Guess what sword it is.”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “How the hell am I supposed to know about a missing sword?”

Cora snorted. “You young ones aren’t taught anything these days. You mean to tell me you know nothing of a legendary sword, one that a king held, that he pulled from a stone? One that went missing and was never to be seen again?”

Chills rippled through me, the breeze seeming too cold now on my sweat laden body. She couldn’t mean what I think she did. Did she?

I stood and leaned on my swords handles, feeling the groove of intricate patterns on my skin as my mind worked over the possibilities.

There had to be another sword, she couldn’t possible mean . . . I took another deep slow breath and slowly let it out.

“
Please tell me you don’t mean that the legends are true?” I asked, the spoken denial all I had left. Too much had happened for me to truly believe that she would make this up.

She nodded. “Yes, Quinn, they are very real, not the myth that humanity has made of it.” If snakes could smile, she certainly was now.

“
You need to find Excalibur.”

~~

Acknowledgments

Dark Waters
has been an interesting ride for me, and as always, I know I wouldn’t have been able to complete it without a team of editors, beta readers, friends and family. Jessica Klassen and Melissa Breau have been the best two editors a writer could find, always pushing me to improve my craft.

Thank you to my husband, Terry, for your love, support, and patience, I couldn’t ask for a better helpmate on this journey of mine.

Finally, but far from least,
Dark Waters
is dedicated to the bonds of sisters, siblings and friends who should have been sisters. You all know who you are, and I love each and every one of you.

~~

Looking for MORE of Shannon Mayer’s writing? Check out this excerpt from her bestselling book,
Sundered.

“
Sebastian?” I called out, Nero sound asleep in my arms. I wanted to apologize for being a jerk.

“
Here.”

I clutched Nero close and kissed the top of his down-soft head, and made my way to the living room where Sebastian sat glued to the TV.

“
Really? After the talk you just gave me about not wallowing and being out in the sunshine?” I said, tapping him on the shoulder. “I can’t believe you bought me a—”

“
Shhh,” he cut me off and pointed to the TV.

On the screen was a reporter standing in front of VGH, Vancouver General Hospital. “It appears that the miracle drug, Nevermore, wasn’t such a miracle after all. Early reports are that the toxins thought to be strained out of the main component of the drug—cystius scoparius, better known as scotch broom—were not eliminated.” The reporter choked up, her eyes misting over and I wondered if she had taken the drug or knew someone close to her who had. “The toxins attack the part of the brain that makes us human, whole sections of the cerebral cortex are eaten away until there is nothing left but a base animal instinct.” Someone stumbled out of the hospital and the reporter turned and ran towards the man who clutched at his stomach. “Sir, can you tell us why you’re here today?”

“
I’m so hungry, I can’t stop eating. Nothing fills me up,” He said. His eyes were glazed and his skin had a strong golden yellow hue to it, as if he were jaundiced.

“
Sir, did you take the drug Nevermore?” she asked, sticking the microphone close to the man.

He stared at the microphone for a moment, opened his mouth to answer, and chomped his teeth around the fuzzy piece, growling and snarling. The sounds sent chills all over my body. The reporter backed away, the cameraman keeping tabs on the man attempting to devour the microphone. Then he looked up, right into the camera. His pupils twitched as the camera focused in on them, sliding from a perfect, human round, to a horizontal rectangle, reminiscent of a goat’s eye.

I gasped and grabbed for Sebastian’s hand. He gave it to me and I clung to him. That could have been me if I’d taken the shot—would have been me if not for the main ingredient. I pressed my nose into Nero’s fur and breathed in his scent as Sebastian’s hand went clammy in mine.

The man stood and opened his mouth. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to speak or if he was roaring at the camera. By the cameraman’s reaction, he was roaring. The scene jigged and jogged as the cameraman and the reporter fled, but in her heels and tight business skirt, the reporter wasn’t fast enough. The camera turned in time to see her get tackled from behind, her body slamming into the ground under the weight of the Nevermore man.

He reared up and slammed his mouth into her back, ripping a chunk of flesh as if she were a loaf of bread. Her screams were audible from whatever mic was left on the camera, then the camera was dropped and the screen scrambled, and then went black.

“
That wasn’t for real,” I said, though I knew already in my gut that it was. It was like watching a hurricane rip apart a house. You didn’t think it was possible, didn’t think they would air it, but in your heart you knew it wasn’t staged.