The Obsidian Dagger (16 page)

“You son of a—” Brendan slashed down with his sword and chopped off the solid arm. It fell away and turned to black mist when it hit the ground. Instantly, a new arm reformed itself out of Gorgoch's shoulder, only this time it carried a sword as well.

“Fool,” chastised the spirit. “You have already lost.”

Gorgoch lashed out with his sword, and Brendan easily countered and parried in return. They exchanged attacks with neither gaining an advantage.

“After I kill you, boy, I will finish off your sister and your girlfriend.” Gorgoch's red eyes were like fire and his white glow had been overrun with a red pulsation.

“Come on, Artie,” pleaded Brendan. “We're your friends.”

“Wrong. My only friend is death. I would like to introduce you.”

Gorgoch struck high and Brendan easily blocked the blow. He then spun and dipped even lower only to bring his blade up into the center of the spirit's chest. To his surprise the blade speared the ghost like any other man. Gorgoch's surprised face told Brendan that he had found his mark.

Gorgoch's arm returned to mist, but his body remained lodged on the end of Brendan's blade. The black mist around Dorian vanished in the wind and she got to her feet and stumbled to Brendan's side.

Gorgoch opened his mouth to speak, but it was obvious that they weren't his words. “Fools! You are too late. Duncan's power will be my own and then I will be unstoppable!”

Dorian had tears reach her eyes. “Let my father go!”

Morna looked through a patch of mist, seeing through Gorgoch's eyes. She looked out at the American and the princess.

“Little girl, what makes you think that you can command me?”

“You could have lived and served in my new world, as meager as that existence would have been, but I have made your protector your destroyer,” Gorgoch continued the speech for his master.

The spirit man's eyes assumed a sharper and bloodier red. Though he was still impaled on Brendan's sword, he reached out and began to choke both Brendan and Dorian. Gorgoch thrust Dorian away and nearly into the water. He wanted to focus his rage on Brendan.

“Your pitiful toy can't stop me, boy!” he taunted.

Brendan tightened his grip on the sword and somehow started to calm his mind. The magical sword responded to Brendan and radiated more power. Gorgoch's elusive expression told the tale, and he released his grip on Brendan. The power of the sword pushed the ghost back to the very tip.

Dorian ran back to Brendan's side. “Don't destroy him! He's not in control.”

She reached out and placed her hand on Brendan's, and her energy crackled up the blade until it met Gorgoch's chest. The ghost was sent like a rocket out of the Black Forest and away from the witch. Dorain and Brendan fell to the ground sweating and exhausted.

“I couldn't let you destroy him,” she wheezed. “He's our friend.”

“Sorry. He wasn't leaving me much choice.”

Biddy had already freed herself from the tangled branches and bubble residue and scooped up Rory. Lizzie got to her feet and hobbled back to the group.

“Now what?” Lizzie asked.

“Now we finish this,” declared Dorian.

 

 

Chapter 17

The Calm

Morna was not at all happy after Gorgoch was flung out of the woods as if he had been shot from a cannon. The one bright side was that the Leprechaun magic was much more powerful than she had first thought. At least that made the eventual outcome all the more worth the hassle of these little fools.

The time for playing had passed. She never thought they would make it to her gate in one piece, so it was time to unleash her hellish terror.

She turned to Dullahan. “Destroy the Leprechauns and the girl.”

Dullahan bowed. “It will be done. What of the boy?”

Morna smiled cruelly. “Don't worry. My pet will take care of him.” She stroked the griffin's feathers gently as lightning flashed in her eyes.

…

The griffin gained a little momentum in a jog and jumped into the darkened sky as the first raindrops began to fall. Lightning flashed and the griffin closed its eyes. It flapped hard to rise higher and higher and when it got several hundred meters above the ground it peered down with exceptional vision for its prey. Once it spotted the swordsman, it let out a triumphant screech and pulled its wings straight back and dove for the ground. The rain stung on its face and splashed off of its beak, but the griffin narrowed its gaze and honed in on the boy.

…

The thunder clapped and Lizzie jumped in response. She hated storms to begin with, but she especially hated them in a cursed forest outside of a frightening castle. She hated the fact that they didn't have a way in.

“So, how are we getting in?” she asked.

Rory and Biddy exchanged glances. “I think I've got an idea,” he said.

Rory shot two arrows at the same time and they found their mark on the top two corners of the drawbridge. Long strings of magic remained tethered to the shafts and connected the arrows with the bow. Rory tossed the strings up to Biddy and snatched them up and pushed against the air with a mighty flap. She struggled at first and Lizzie thought the little Leprechaun was wasting her time when the drawbridge began to pull away from the wall.

“No way!” Lizzie shouted in excitement.

“Come on, Bid,” encouraged Rory.

The little Leprechaun kept on pulling and slowly brought the gargantuan door down to the ground. It made a loud thud, and Biddy dropped the strings and shook the wear out of her hands.

“Great job, Biddy!” everyone shouted and cheered as the first raindrops splattered.

…

The griffin was silent and used the storm to hide its approach. The raindrops around it were huge and shaped like mini torpedos. The griffin cut right through them in a direct path for the boy. It made minor adjustments as the swordsman and his group were starting to cross the drawbridge.

Just before the griffin reached the boy, it stretched out its claws and opened them wide just like it would while on the hunt for prey. The moment arrived and the griffin shrieked in excitement and wrapped its talons around the boy. It's left talon wrapped up his left arm and its right talon snatched the boy across his right shoulder and around his chest. If the griffin could have smiled it would have as it took to the air and left the others behind.

“Noooooo!” shouted Lizzie. She chased after the rising griffin for a few steps until it and Brendan became a dot in the sky. Seconds later they vanished amongst the clouds.

She slumped her shoulders and felt absolutely defeated. She dropped to her knees and tears ran out of her eyes. Dorian placed her hand on Lizzie's head.

“He'll be fine, Lizzie,” she said.

“How do you know that?” Lizzie cried.

Dorian didn't know it. She wanted to believe it, though, and that had to be enough. “You need to have faith in him.”

“We need to go in and stop that witch, now!” warned Rory. “Our time is short. Can't you feel it?”

No one answered, but they knew he was right.

Lizzie got to her feet, but she refused to wipe the tears away. They were going to fuel her. She had something more to fight for now and that witch and her lackies were going to pay for it. Lizzie stalked across the drawbridge and the others followed. Whatever lay ahead had better be ready.

…

I should have seen it coming, Brendan thought as he soared away from his sister and the Leprechauns. What was the point of being a seer if you can't even see the danger that you're in?

He was shaken and woozy from the sudden ascension, but the nausea was beginning to subside and he started to take inventory of the situation. The first thing he realized was that the griffin could drop him at any moment and he would plunge to his death. That was not a comforting thought, so the idea of slicing into the thing's leg with his sword was out. He also realized that he had a huge pain in his left side. The pain was stinging, but the cold air was making it difficult to know if it was his side or the wind that was causing the pain. He guessed it was a little of both.

The griffin soared higher and higher and eventually reached the edge of the Black Forest. It curled its path and just skimmed the boundary of the black storm clouds. Brendan had a feeling that it didn't want to leave the cover of the storm. Bits of icy rain began pelting his face and he squinted his eyes against it.

What was this overgrown buzzard going to do with him?

…

Dorian stepped ahead of Lizzie and through the entrance. She scanned the great entrance hall and spotted nothing. There was a stone staircase on the far left that spiraled up and away into the darkened space overhead and down into a rectangular opening in the floor. The room wasn't as gloomy as Dorian had expected. There were plenty of lit torches hanging in the chandeliers. There was no furniture or paintings. Nothing that was inviting or charming. It was just empty and Dorian thought that was about right considering the black-hearted owner of the place.

“Where do you think she's keeping him?” asked Biddy, two feet off to Dorian's left.

“My guess is up or down,” answered Lizzie gesturing with her staff.

Dorian had considered the same. She knew that they were going to have to split up if they stood any chance of finding her father. She heaved out a long breath and made a decision. “Okay. We'll have to split up.” The others were silent, but she could read the concern on their faces. “You three go down and I'll go up.”

Biddy protested first. “You can't go on your own!”

“You need one of us to watch your back, Dorian!” agreed Rory.

Lizzie listened to the others but she cleared her throat and shook her head. “She's right. She can look out for herself, but we are going to need each other.” The others stared back at her. She didn't miss a beat and turned to go down the stairwell.

Dorian nodded at Biddy and Rory and they followed her down. Dorian slowed her breathing in an attempt to slow her heart rate, but it didn't help. She climbed the steps with her hands glowing and her eyes scanning.

 

 

Chapter 18

The Storm

The griffin's screech was piercing. The abomination flew him around and around as if searching for just the right kill spot. He lost track of how long he was in its clutches, but he wasn't looking forward to when he wasn't.

Apparently, the beast had found what it was looking for and it pulled hard with its massive and powerful wings, arching momentarily before plunging into a dive. Brendan's gut tightened and jumped into his chest just like it did on every rollercoaster he had ever ridden. This time, though, there would be no sudden turn before he hit the ground. He peered through the rushing wind and ice pellets and located the dumb beast's kill spot.

The griffin had angled them so that they were approaching the Black River, only this stretch of water had unnatural jagged rocks that were protruding out of the current. The stones were black like obsidian, but they were huge with serrated sides. It was not Brendan's ideal landing zone.

“Can't we talk about this?” he screamed above the noise. The griffin did not reply.

…

Morna took the obsidian dagger out and held it with reverence. Soon the dagger would help fulfill the plans that Conchar had shared with her before he disappeared. Though the blade was black, she perceived the dark shadow that her mentor had set upon it and the blurry, golden vision of a second shadow. She still didn't know the purpose of the golden image, but it hardly mattered. She would soon fulfill her portion of the plan, and with Conchar gone, she would take his piece of the pie as well. Soon, she could set her magical and horrific army on the world, but first she had these pesky travelers to deal with.

…

Lizzie, Rory, and Biddy cautiously hurried down the stairs. They knew that time was drawing short, but they were also aware that they were in an evil witch's castle, so to hurry cautiously seemed like a nice balance.

It didn't take them long to find the end of the stairs. They never found any other entrances except for the one at the very bottom. The faint glow of torches illuminated the doorframe and the bottom three stairs. Walking through the doorway they entered into a huge and very open hall that had several doors, both wooden and barred, lining it.

“Shall we pick a door?” asked Rory.

Lucky for them––or unlucky for them––all the doors opened at once negating the need to select one. Opened, though, is not strong enough of a word. The doors exploded off the hinges and flew about the hall smashing into other doors and into the walls. Splinters and shards were thrown about, but the protective glow of the magic they had absorbed deflected the fragments.

Once the sawdust settled, Lizzie took inventory of what had just happened. “Whoa! That was crazy!”

Rory and Biddy nodded, but when the pitch-black rooms became alight with glowing red eyes, they knew that the craziness was just about to be multiplied.

…

Dorian hummed to herself as she ascended the stairs. She often did that when she was nervous. She had only been this nervous once before. She was very young when her mother became ill and on her last night on the Earth, Dorian was ushered to her bed side. She was nervous because once her mother was gone, it was going to be left to her to take care of her father. That was a lot of pressure for a kid. Couple that with the responsibilities of being the heir to the crown and you have one tall order. It wasn't that her father was stupid or careless, but he was naïve and that had always scared her mother. That anxiety was passed on to daughter and was at an all-time high as she climbed each new step.

She knew in her heart that her father was being held in the tower. It seemed unlikely that at the very moment of gaining all of the Leprechaun magic that she would want to be in the dungeon. No, the witch had to have an ego to want to steal the power for her own in the first place, so that would have to place her in the tower. A good bet would also be on her father being in the tower too so she could gloat and celebrate in her evil.

The thoughts both scared and infuriated her. She knew the witch was powerful, but she also knew that she wasn't about to let her father die without a fight. The old witch didn't know what was coming her way.

…

The rocks of sure death were fast approaching and Brendan had no idea how to stop the descent. The griffin on the other hand knew just how to stop itself from slamming into the rocks. It released Brendan on a direct trajectory towards the jagged stones some five hundred feet above the ground.

Brendan screamed as the creature arched away. The wind rushed by as the ground rushed forward. Brendan focused on the stones and then his mind swiftly moved to thoughts of his father and sister and a million memories of his life back in America. The clichéd life flashing before his eyes was pretty disappointing and really boring. He was disappointed all the way until the memories landed in Ireland. The crazy events he had experienced with the rescue party flew by, and he watched them with amazement. Amazement because he was actually a part of them. His last one was of the panic stricken faces of Lizzie and Dorian. That's where his focus held and that's why he failed to notice the silver energy spread from the blade up through the hilt and into his arm. His entire body radiated the silver glow by the time he smashed into the serrated rocks.

…

The red-eyes emerged from the darkened doors and advanced into the hall. Dozens of gaunt-looking fairies trailed the zombie-like slaves and hovered above them with nasty little grins through black lips and gray, sunken cheeks. Everybody around Rory, Biddy, and Lizzie was drooling and smelled like rotting bacon.

“Be ready, lasses, this is going to get ugly,” warned Rory.

“It's already ugly, Rory,” joked Biddy in a weak attempt to cut her nerves down.

The Ruas stood around the perimeter of the three waiting while the Sidhes flapped their leathery wings. They were waiting for something, but Lizzie couldn't imagine what it was. She didn't have to wait long because a slightly larger and even more deranged looking Sidhe burst out of a black room and spread his wings wide to slow his flight.

“Oh no!” cried Biddy. “It's Wardicon.”

“Wardicon?” asked Lizzie, her purple staff humming in her hands.

“The Sidhe King,” answered Rory.

The king surveyed the small group that his Sidhes and the Ruas confronted. He growled and then spat out his command. It wasn't a complicated directive. He simply said, “Kill!”

…

Dorian reached the tower entrance with her heart pounding so loudly in her chest that she was pretty sure the witch could hear her coming. She cautiously peered around the corner and into the room. It was humongous compared to what she thought it was going to be. From the base of the castle the tower looked tiny. Looks were definitely deceiving.

The tower was apparently the base of operations. Morna had a large stone table that somewhat resembled an altar with four obsidian chairs placed around it. A dagger of the same black stone was laid across the table with bits of gore still clinging to it. Dorian crept beside it hiding herself between the altar and the wall. She nearly puked at the sight of the bloody tissue hanging on the blade. She crept a little further on and looked out in the middle of the great room. There were the mutilated bodies of four Ruas lying about, probably the source of the gore on the blade.

The balcony was lit by the lightning and was taking on rain. She didn't see her father anywhere in the tower. Had she picked the wrong direction?

She looked at her glowing hands and thought. She flicked her fingers and sprayed tiny sparks of red toward the center of the room. “Go,” she commanded. “Find my father.”

The tiny balls of red light floated like lightning bugs around the room. Some soared into the rafters while the others darted in and out of dark spaces in the tower. Finally, they all converged on a damp, shadowed area in the north corner. They settled in the base of a wrought iron cage and glowed.

Dorian's breath caught in her throat. Her father was there, but he looked terrible. Death couldn't be far behind, or maybe something worse than death––like being Morna's pawn. Duncan's head turned slightly and he mouthed her name.

Dorian lost her head. She stood up and cried out. “Father! I'm here!”

She began to run across the room, closing the distance between herself and the cage. Her footsteps were so loud on the stone floor. Time slowed, or maybe she did. It was taking an impossibly long time to get there. She was caught off guard when a black figure seamlessly slipped out of the shadows and impeded her path. She skidded to a stop at Dullahan's feet and fell on her backside. She looked up at the demon.

“I'm here, too, Your Highness,” bellowed the headless one.