The Forest of Aisling: Dream of the Shapeshifter (The Willow Series Book 1) (35 page)

BOOK: The Forest of Aisling: Dream of the Shapeshifter (The Willow Series Book 1)
7.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Well, it looks like an eye, I guess,” Quinn
replied, “If I close one eye and do this.” He closed his left eye and leaned
his head way to the side.

I laughed and poked Quinn on the arm.  “One
thing I wonder about…”

Bram and Quinn both looked my way while Quinn
signed to Bram.

“If it’s called the Giant’s Eye, why didn’t the
Fomorians come here right away, why are they still out there looking for
it?  I mean, geesh, it’s labeled and everything.”

Quinn started cracking up. “Blimey, they must be
stupid!  What’d they need, a map?”

“There’s a few of these formations around,” Bram
said, touching the boulder with his boot, “not just this one and they weren’t
labeled Giant’s Eyes until the Causeway itself was named, which really wasn’t
that long ago.  Da pinpointed this one based on the distance from the shore,
the night sky, stuff like that.  Let’s just hope he’s right and this is
the spot.  If it’s not, then –”

He stopped and spun around as a flash of lightning
lit up the sky directly behind us.  Quinn and I turned in the direction of
the flash and watched as the lightning hit the ground to the side of us. 
A tremendous bolt shot up from the ground and ran high into the sky
overhead.  Bram, Quinn, and I were shot back from the mere charge of the
powerful strike and landed several feet away.  As we regained our footing,
the bolt, still glowing from the current surging through it, broke apart into
four separate pieces.  Each piece flashed and came apart onto itself
creating the confetti effect I had witnessed at the sidhe.  The glowing
confetti transformed itself into the four Fomorians.

It took them a few seconds to reconfigure and
become fully whole.  They were all looking to the ground and weren’t even
aware of our presence.  I grabbed hold of Bram’s and Quinn’s arms, fearful
of what was coming and ready to make a run for it.

Cyril was the first to look up.  It was like
looking at my father all decked out in some crazy Halloween costume.  He
smiled broadly and took a few steps our way. 

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” he
asked.  “The three disciples of Lugh are here to welcome us back from the
great beyond. Is that not a truly courteous thing to do? ”

He glanced back over his shoulder to the now
moving Fomorians.  They took their places at his side, looking somewhat
bored and disinterested.

“I suggest you three run along.  I wouldn’t
want to see you get hurt…not just yet anyway.” He laughed, waving his hands
towards the sea. 

Quinn began signing to Bram.  Cyril watched
in amazement. “What is this you are doing?  Are you trying to communicate
with him?  Do you not hear me, boy?” he bellowed, tilting his head the
same way Dad would when he was trying to grasp something.  It freaked me
out to see him do that.

He began laughing a boisterous laugh and pulled on
the other Fomorians pointing to Bram.  “See here? And you were
worried!  The guardians are nothing more than children and this one isn’t
able to communicate without the aid of his friend!  They could not find
adequate champions for their cause.  This… is… priceless.  If my
comrades here weren’t in such a hurry to put an end to this tedious business,
I’d be fascinated to watch you two speak to each other.”

He smoothed out the front of his robe, then lifted
his hands.  “But, alas, the time is now.  We have waited far too long
to drag this out any longer.  You’ve no idea how tiring it is being
trapped just below the surface, aware of each and every passing day, lost in
the anticipation of a golden opportunity to once again resurface and lay claim
to what is rightfully ours.

“Many times we readied ourselves for a triumphant
return, only to have the moment squashed by one of Lugh’s minions. 
Countless times we came close to the freedom we now can taste and will finally
achieve.”  Cyril looked to his companions and reached his hands over to
touch their shoulders.  He stared at us, almost with a remorseful
expression.

“But, alas, young warriors, your time is at
hand.  Be not saddened at the passing of your life, but joyous at having
it snuffed out by a Fomorian…the greatest race to ever set foot on this
desolate land.  My people brought order and beauty to these islands and
graciously worked alongside the lower classes until the barbarian Tuatha
came.  You should realize that you are on the wrong side.  The Tuatha
destroyed and divided instead of creating and uniting a simple people unable to
even care for themselves.  We gave them knowledge, showed them how to work
with the earth, how to –”

“Do you ever stop talking?” I shouted, then
realized it actually came from my mouth and wasn’t one of my thoughts.

Quinn immediately stopped signing to Bram and shot
an astonished look my way.  I met his stare and shrugged my
shoulders.  “I meant to think it, not say it,” I whispered to his still
startled expression.

Cyril narrowed his eyes and looked intently into
mine.  I tried to look away but felt as though I was held captive by his
stare.  He stepped towards us a few paces and put his hands on his
hips.  He then looked me up and down and shook his head.

“A pity such impertinence still exists.  I
see the human race has not evolved beyond that of the obtuse.” He shook his
head from side to side and paced slowly between his three companions, all the
while maintaining his icy stare.  “I will resist the desire to make your
ending a long and tortuous one and simply terminate your existence in one fowl
swoop.  After the admirable way you three challenged and defeated the
creatures of the sidhe I was prepared to offer you…guardians…another chance to
sit alongside us, your superiors, and serve.  But your disrespect has left
me weary.”

“Come now, Cyril, the girl has a point, cease your
endless chatter and let’s be done with it,” replied the blonde Fomorian. 
I remembered him from the sidhe.  He was called Corman and was impatient
with Cyril even then.  “Let us get on with this.  Where is the Eye?”
he asked, stepping away from the group, heading towards the sea.

Cyril’s glare shifted from me to Corman, which
relieved me greatly.  I relaxed my shoulders and looked over at Bram then
Quinn.  I went into mindspeak.

“What do we do?”  I asked directing my
question to my two friends.

The female Fomorian joined Cyril and leaned in
close to him.  The two of them kept their focus on Corman who was still
looking out to the sea, as they engaged in a private conversation.  The
other male Fomorian, who was dressed in the suit of armor, seemed as
disinterested in the whole process as Corman.  His hand rested on the
handle of a long sword that was sheathed and attached at his waist.  He
never even looked at us and was more interested in the sky above.

“We only need to take one of them out,
right?  Then they won’t be able to complete the square and raise the Eye,”
offered Quinn telepathically.

“Right, by removing a piece of the square they are
lost until they can secure another Fomorian, and that’s something they would
need to return to the sidhe to do.  Our concern now is, which one do we go
for?” Bram replied, keeping his eyes clearly focused on Corman.

Cyril headed towards Corman, but then he
stopped.   He removed his belt and held it up into the air.  He
raised his other hand and, in a twisting motion, stretched out the belt without
touching it and sent it spiraling to where we stood.  Instantly it wrapped
itself around our waists and arms drawing us all together.  It bounded us
in such a way that escape was impossible. Cyril was looking back at us now, as
was his female companion.  She grabbed hold of his hand between her own
and held it to her lips.  These two obviously were involved with one
another on a deeper level.  I channeled my hearing to where they stood.

“My darling, I realize Corman can be quite
impossible at times, but he and Ezron are all we have.  We do not want to
wait until another opportunity like this presents itself.  So many times
we came close but there was always a guardian who had superior skills and
knowledge.  Never in the history of our banishment have the stars been so
aligned.  They are three children with no appointed leader, without
complete knowledge of their own abilities.  We must move quickly lest they
discover the one shortcoming in our occupation.”

Cyril placed his right hand on his companion’s
face.  She held it tight to her cheek.  “You are right, Carissa, my
queen.  After that eternal entrapment in the shadows of the depths I must
remember that unity is the key to our victory.”

I quickly reconnected with Bram and Quinn. 
“Ok, it’s like you were saying, we only need to remove one of them from the
equation, and considering the tension between the two big guys, I’d say we need
to focus on them.” I watched Cyril and Carissa approach Corman.

 “I’ll keep an eye on smiley over there,”
Bram volunteered, nodding his head toward the knight in not-so-shining armor.

“Ok, which one should we try and get rid
of?”  Quinn wondered, his eyes dancing wildly between the Fomorians.

We exchanged glances.  “The knight,” began
Bram, “he’s sort of out of the picture. It’s like he doesn’t want much to do
with the others. If we can keep these three fighting or arguing that would
allow us to zero our energies on him and…” he trailed off.

“And what?” asked Quinn, “Um, just how are we
going to kill him?  Do we shift or what?”

“Guys…Carissa, the woman, said something about us
not having complete knowledge of our own abilities.  Quinn, you discovered
that.  Until you tried it out for yourself we didn’t even know that we had
the power to increase our speed.”

 I suddenly became aware of the freezing
temperatures and felt really uncomfortable. The bitterness from the night air
was closing in and making it hard to think. 

Being stuck between Quinn and Bram allowed me to
fidget around enough that I was able to pull my hands up to my chest and blow
on them in an effort to draw some warmth.  I stared at my fists and
remembered my father’s tactic for whenever I complained about being too hot or too
cold.  He would simply say,
Think hot
or
Think cold
– in
other words, focus your mental energy on changing your physical condition.
Sometimes it would actually work, if I really focused on it.  Like, if it
was hot, I’d picture myself lying in the snow and it would help. Good old mind
over matter.

I directed my attention to my hands and willed
them to warm up, picturing them soaking in a sink full of hot water. 
Within a split second, they did.  I grabbed hold of Bram’s and Quinn’s
hands and let the warmth from mine rush over their fingers.  They both
stared at me in complete disbelief.

“Just visualize it, just like the speed
thing.  That must be what Carissa was talking about.  Our abilities
are much larger than we realized.  Maybe we’re only limited by our own
imagination!” Excitement flooded over me at the thought we may actually stand a
chance against the Fomorians. 

“You are being very quiet over here,” Cyril’s
voice boomed as he treaded through the snow to stand in front of us.  “You
aren’t planning anything, are you?”  He laughed and bent down to pick up
some snow.  He rolled the handful of white powder into a ball and threw it
into the air.  As it descended to the ground it transformed into a
beautiful crystallized dove that then flew straight up and off into the
distance.

Bram sent his thought, “You’re right; remember, my
da said the Tuatha and Fomorians were on the same level as far as their
abilities.  Lugh gave those abilities to us.  In other words,
anything they can do… we can do better.”

I laughed out loud and quickly covered my mouth
once I realized what I had done.  I seriously needed to get a handle on
when I held my thoughts inside and when I let them out.

“What is funny, lass?  Do I amuse you?” 
Cyril stood directly in front of me now.  I was surprised by the fact that
when he spoke I couldn’t see his breath which reminded me…he wasn’t
human.  His face was contorted in an angry expression and that helped me
again remind myself he wasn’t my father.  My father would never look at me
with so much hate in his eyes.  But still, I couldn’t get past the
resemblance.

“No, you don’t amuse me,” I mumbled focusing my
attention to the ground.

“Enough! Let us retrieve the Eye and do away with
these misfits.  Why do you waste your breath on them?” yelled
Corman.  He stood next to Cyril now, and as I looked at his face I saw
some familiarity there as well.  I couldn’t place my finger on it but I
felt as though I had seen him before.  In fact, as I looked at the three
Fomorians in front of us, they all looked familiar in one way or another, even
Carissa.  The only one who didn’t was the knight, but that was only
because his face was covered with his helmet; we had no idea what he looked
like.

“Patience, my brother, patience.  You’ll have
all the time in the world now.  Do not trouble yourself so.”  Cyril
returned his stare to us.  “Let us allow these children to witness true
warriors in action.  Alas, a sight they will never see again.”  He
turned to his companions and motioned for them to follow. 

“The Eye is here.  How kind of the humans to
mark its place so clearly, is it not?”  He waved his hand over the boulder
Bram had dusted off.

“If you’re so smart, why’d it take you so long to
figure out it where it was?” asked Quinn, jumping on the
speak first, think
about it later
bandwagon.  Our increasing boldness surprised the
Fomorians as well as Quinn himself; he inched back a few steps pulling Bram and
I along with him.

Carissa gasped slightly and then stepped forward,
inches away from Quinn’s face.  This time she was the one getting
annoyed.  Tiny snow crystals emanated from her body and rose into the air
as her expression turned into one of pure hatred.  “How dare you speak to
Cyril that way, boy?  You are not fit to be anywhere in his presence, let
alone question him.  I ought to remove the very tongue that uttered such
disrespectful words towards the ruler of the new world.” 

Other books

The Thong Also Rises by Jennifer L. Leo
Kitty's House of Horrors by Carrie Vaughn
Hot Pink in the City by Medeia Sharif
One Night More by Mandy Baxter
Going the Distance by John Goode
You Cannot Be Serious by John McEnroe;James Kaplan