Iona Portal (30 page)

He winced again as Piper literally threw himself against him, holding him in a tight embrace.

He returned the embrace, ignoring the pain for a moment, then quickly pulled away.  “More of that later…” he whispered, “Let’s get this thing done.”

The swirling storm of Archon warriors had almost reached the island.

The entire synaxis, along with their friends from Mull, were staring at Holmes in disbelief, not comprehending how he was still alive.  He turned to them and barked, “Lys, and Patrick—all of you—let’s go.  We need to get that portal open.”

“Not so fast!” …a voice called, this time from the top of
Cnoc nan Carnan.
  “I’ve come for my old friend, Lys.”  It was Kareina.  Botis and Turell walked at her side as she calmly strode down the embankment to the road.  “I must say, Lys, you’re remarkably resilient, but your luck just ran out.  Rex was right about one thing.  All of this ends
now!” 

Reaching the bottom of the embankment, Botis and Turell separated and circled around behind the synaxis, while all eyes remained on Kareina.

Smiling malevolently, she approached Lys.   “You survived the BMW.  You survived the bullet through the hospital window.  You survived the shades.  You even survived the Firth of Lorne.  This time I’ve decided to do it the old-fashioned way.”  Coming face-to-face with Lys, Kareina purred, “Let’s see if you can survive my
knife
.” 

As she spoke, Kareina brought her hand up, revealing a pitch-black, twelve-inch-long obsidian knife with a jagged edge.   She raised the knife swiftly until the tip just indented the soft flesh of Lys’s neck. 

Seeing the raw terror in Lys’s eyes, Kareina bared her teeth in a sadistic grin, savoring her long-delayed triumph as she prepared to make the fatal thrust.

But then, from just behind Kareina, came another voice… “Hold it Kareina.  Before you use that blade on her, you’ll have to get past
my
blade.”  It was Araton.  His shining, white wings were outstretched, and he floated ten feet above the ground.  In his right hand he clasped a three-foot-long, glowing scimitar.

Recognizing Araton’s voice, Kareina whirled to face him, as the pent-up fury of twenty-thousand years exploded within her. 

Forgetting Lys for the moment, Kareina threw aside her knife and slid a shining, three-foot blade from the black scabbard at her side.  Then, opening her mouth in a long, rasping cry, she unfurled dark, bat-like wings and rose to meet her ancient adversary.

Botis and Turell joined her in the air.  Suddenly, from the shadow realm, twenty more Archon warriors appeared, surrounding Araton with drawn swords. 

Araton hovered with wings outstretched and scimitar raised, face-to-face with Kareina.  Kareina shifted her sword from side to side, dark eyes glaring at him in searing hatred, searching for her opening.

Turell remained on station, just behind her.  But at a gesture from Kareina, Botis retreated, gliding silently away into the darkness. 

Spreading dark leathery wings—almost invisible in the gathering gloom—Botis flew unnoticed in a wide arc around the encircling warriors, then rose into the ash-darkened sky to a position behind and several hundred feet above Araton. 

Botis paused for a moment in mid-air, wings outstretched, feeling the cold evening breeze blowing in from the Sound of Iona.  Then, seeing Araton’s attention still locked on Kareina, he bared his teeth and angled into a sharp dive, plummeting downward toward Araton with sword held high, ready to strike a decisive blow.

But Araton sensed the movement behind him.  At the last moment he whirled and struck out at his attacker.  Botis saw Araton turning and, for an instant, a look of horror flashed across his face.  His mouth opened in a tortured scream but his momentum was too great to turn aside.  Araton’s glowing blade caught Botis directly across the chest.  In an explosion of blinding white light Botis was literally torn apart, the shredded remnants of his mangled body tumbling to the ground in smoke and fire.

“
That
was for Sylvia!” Araton spat, as he whirled on Kareina. 

Araton lashed out with his scimitar again, and Kareina jumped back, barely avoiding his blade.  The others were on him immediately.  The Archon warriors swirled around him, slashing and thrusting, driving in close, then leaping to escape his flashing sword. 

Their attack was intense and furious, but Araton was too fast for them.  As they pressed in closer, two more Archon fighters were dispatched.  But the rest kept coming.

Araton fought valiantly, but was vastly outnumbered.  The Archons were pressing him on every side.

Suddenly, falling from the sky like a shooting star, Eliel was there.  She was dancing again, twirling in a blaze of white light, tumbling and twisting among the Archon warriors.  And in her hand was a shining sword.  In a moment, three more Archons tumbled to the ground in flames.

More Irin arrived – Rand and Khalil and two others.  Araton was wounded now, but the others closed ranks around him.

But the Archons increased their numbers also.  

Then, in the sky overhead, the two massive armies finally engaged.  While the Irin darted and flashed, the massive horde of the Archon army rapidly tightened the circle around them. 

The Archons had great numbers, but moved independently.  Their attack was ferocious but not well-coordinated.  As the Irin held their ground, more Archons died. 

But still more Archons were moving into view.  Irin began to fall also.  The Irin were being overwhelmed by the sheer number of their adversaries.

Holmes turned to the synaxis… “Let’s get that portal open.” 

As the battle overhead intensified, Holmes led the way to the top of the hill.  In the gathering darkness, the twelve planted their feet on the soft heather between the upright slabs of stone. 

Instinctively, Holmes knew what to do.  Eliel had never told him how to open the portal, but he
knew
.

“Patrick, stand in front of that slab on the right.  Lys, you stand before the slab on the left, facing him.  Everyone else, gather around them.  Now, Patrick… you give the word.”

Patrick looked at Lys for a long moment and their eyes met.   He smiled broadly, then spoke one word,
“Sing!”

Lys returned his smile, then opened her mouth and began to sing, repeating the simple song she’d made up as a child. 

At first the song was forced and halting, a weak and silly song a child would sing—just nonsense syllables in a childish melody.  But gradually the song took on a life of its own.  It rose from deep within Lys and flowed out, syllable after syllable.  The words made no sense, but then they took on a meaning that went beyond human understanding.  The song increased in volume.  It had rhythm and meter, and the melody grew more complex.  It rose and crested in crescendo after crescendo, gaining power. 

And as Lys sang, something happened.

The stone slabs around them, and the earth under their feet seemed to vibrate to the sound of her song.

The hill beneath their feet began to glow… and then turned transparent.  The ground between Patrick and Lys, the green heather and dark earth beneath, became as clear as glass.  Patrick felt a wave of vertigo.  Looking down at his feet, he could see into the depths of the earth.

Suddenly, from the heart of the earth, a shaft of light shot skyward, a pillar of white light that pierced the clouds of ash overhead.  The dark clouds retreated, as though cringing from the power of the light.  And a tunnel formed above them—a glowing tunnel that penetrated into the depths of the sky. 

Then, answering the light from the earth, came a light from the heavens.  Through the tunnel, a shaft of brilliant light flooded the whole island.  The light was more than white.  It was a shimmering rainbow of blinding radiance, brighter than the brightest day. 

And then the angels came.  A shining spark fell through the tunnel, shooting like a falling star, then spreading its wings and extending a flaming sword, it joined the battle.  Then another.  Then three more… and suddenly there were thousands, and then tens of thousands.  And more came.  The Irin were flooding into the earth-realm.

In a moment, the battle turned.  Archons were falling in flames all around them. 

The Archons hesitated… then, seeing the battle was lost, they broke off their attack and fled.

And suddenly it was over.

Chapter Twenty-six:  A New Beginning

THE PORT OF OBAN, ARGYLE, SCOTLAND

Four weeks later, the synaxis assembled again, this time on the beautiful, grassy lawn in the center of McCaig’s Folly. 

Standing on the lookout platform, Holmes and Piper gazed out across the Firth of Lorne to the battered Island of Mull, still recovering from its thick coating of ash.   Crews had been sent in, and the road across the island had already been restored. 

By the time the eruption ended, Ben More had actually grown in size.  A picturesque cone more than four thousand feet high now rose in the center of the island.

Following Ben More’s eruption, geologists from all over the earth had rushed to Mull.  After careful study, it was declared that the eruption, though unprecedented, was merely an unfortunate geological “burp.”  The experts agreed that further damage was unlikely.  Government officials were already studying how to draw geothermal energy from the newly active volcano, greatly enhancing the island’s economy.

Holmes and Piper turned and walked across the grassy knoll to where the minister of the local Congregational church was standing, surrounded by a crowd of their friends.   Behind the minister, through one of the archways, Piper could see out across Oban Harbor to the distant isles of the Hebrides.  But Holmes was looking only at Piper. 

When they’d taken their position in front of the minister, Holmes slipped his arm around Piper’s slender waist and drew her closer.  Piper looked up at him, smiling broadly, and their eyes met.

It was a wedding such as no one had ever seen.  The minister, a short, balding man in his mid-sixties, glanced from person to person in this unconventional wedding party with genuine perplexity.

The bride and her attendants were dressed in matching light pale-blue garments, of a style and fabric the minister didn’t recognize.  The dresses were gifts, the bride had explained, from her maid of honor—a beautiful young brown-haired woman named Eliel. 

The groom, though an American, wore a kilt of the MacLean tartan, also a gift from a friend.  Holmes was resplendent in full Highland dress; an Argyll jacket with a wool tie to match his kilt, a black leather sporran trimmed in badger fur, and Ghillie Brogues with kilt hose and garter flashes.  His kilt pin bore the MacLean clan crest, a tower with battlements surrounded by the proud motto "Virtue is my honor."

The best man, a large black fellow named Araton, was dressed in a kilt of the MacKinnon tartan.  In addition to the normal accessories of traditional Highland dress, Araton also sported an imposing two-handed Scottish Claymore dress sword at his side.

There was one more kilted figure in the wedding party, an American named Patrick O’Neill.  Michael had informed Patrick that not all of his ancient relatives had returned to Ireland.  The
Ui Neills
who remained in Scotland changed their name to the Scottish form, “MacNeil,” and settled on the Island of Barra— just north of Iona—where they gained renown as warriors and pirates.   Patrick stood beside Araton, proudly wearing a kilt with the tartan of the Barra MacNeils, purchased in one of the tourist shops on George Street. 

Music for the ceremony was provided by Angus and Malcolm, who played with surprising skill on the bagpipe and highland flute.  They began with a stirring rendition of “Highland Cathedral,” and as the sound of flute and bagpipe echoed and reechoed around the stone walls of McCaig’s Folly, it sounded like all twenty-four bagpipes of the Royal Scottish Dragoons had joined in.   Then the music softened as Catherine began the ceremony by singing a lovely Gaelic love song.

As the wedding plans had progressed, Michael revealed that—among his other talents—he was an amateur photographer.   He requested the honor of recording the moment for posterity.  Michael stood to the right of the group, camera in hand, with Erin at his side. 

Friends old and new gathered around as Holmes and Piper took their places in front of the minister.

The minister, speaking in a thick Scottish brogue, began, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God and this company to join together this man and this woman in the bonds of holy matrimony…”

Aidan’s Pub had never hosted a wedding reception before and the management had been reticent, but when Holmes explained that all their regulars would be invited to attend, and also mentioned free drinks for everyone, an exception was made.

After the toasts were offered, Eliel lifted her
Guinness
and spoke a special blessing over the bride and groom.

When they were seated again, Piper glanced at Eliel, “So what are you and Araton going to do now that the
Archons
are defeated?”

There was a long moment of silence as Eliel and Araton looked at each other, then back to Piper.  Eliel spoke first, “Piper, we thought you understood.  The Archons are not yet defeated.  In fact, the battle has just begun.  What you did on Iona gave us a chance for victory, but the outcome is far from assured.  The greatest part of the conflict is still ahead.”

 “There’s much you don’t understand yet,” Araton cut in. “And much you still need to learn.  Right now you have one synaxis, not yet fully trained.  To drive back the Archons, this group must come to maturity, then multiply into thousands of groups all over the earth.  The Archons will do everything in their power to prevent that.”

Holmes looked around at the group.  “Eliel told me yesterday that if the portal on Iona is to remain open, a synaxis must be formed on Iona immediately.”