The Nemedian Trilogy: Book 02 - The Dragon's Cup Read online

  After several hours of laboured descent, they finally reached the valley floor. The wind had now gathered in pace as it howled above the upper reaches of the valley. Master Bedwyr drew his cloak about him as he pressed forward, moving swiftly between the pale grey boulders that littered the ground. They were soon stood at the end of the valley in front of a sheer wall of dark grey rock that rose for hundreds of metres. Master Bedwyr moved in close as his hands felt the cold stone then stopped as he brushed one of his spirit rings past a specific point on its surface. What first appeared to be a solid wall of rock disappeared as a passageway was revealed.

  The Grand Mage smiled in satisfaction, “This will lead us to the basement where the vault is located,” he said as he whispered words of magic that illuminated a series of torches that lined the walls.

  They group moved quickly inside, the Grand Mage still leading the way. The air inside was surprisingly dry and filled with the familiar sweet scent of old paper, even though they were some considerable distance away from the library basement. The passageway sloped gently upwards and ended in a series of stone steps that rose up towards a large steel door. Master Bedwyr pressed his right ear hard against its cold, flat surface but could hear no signs of activity inside. He inhaled deeply in an attempt to steady his hand as he slowly reached for the door handle.

  The library basement was eerily silent and in pitch darkness. The blackness felt thick with a discernible sense of menace as he gingerly raised his moonstone bracelet to faintly illuminate some of the shelves of tattered books that lined the walls. Each book had been stored in readiness for a curator to repair it prior to its return to the library above and he felt a pang of sadness with the realisation that the library mages were by now, most likely dead.

  The soldiers quickly pushed past the Master Bedwyr as he stood close to the doorway to begin their search for signs of the enemy. After several minutes, they returned to signal that the immediate vicinity was clear of danger. Master Bedwyr proceeded to lead the group to the far South Eastern section of the basement to find that part of the wall had been demolished. Behind the rubble, the large golden door of the vault stood ajar. A forward platoon inspected the entranceway and swiftly returned to verify that it had been left unguarded.

  Master Bedwyr moved slowly towards the opening. His eyes scanned the door for the tell-tale signs of magic that must have been used to force it open. Its polished golden metal reflected back the light from the mage’s moonstone bracelet as he swept his arm across its polished surface. The Grand Mage’s eyes suddenly narrowed when he found what he was looking for. A small, black tendril of smoke still writhed ominously around door’s locking mechanism. It had been opened by a powerful necromancer.

  They wasted no time in entering the vault as the Grand Mage used his powers to seal shut the door behind them. Lord Acheron ordered a small unit of soldiers to remain behind by the entranceway, both to work upon creating a physical blockade of earth and stone and to add a further line of defence in case the rest of the Demons on the island attempted to re-open the door.

  There were no torches upon the walls inside the vault, so the mages had to rely upon their powers of magic alone. Master Bedwyr was aware that the moonstone bracelets would provide insufficient light for the mages in the chaos and heat of battle so he raised both his arms and clasped his fingers together. Slowly, a small ball of light grew between his palms into a gigantic orb. His unclasped his fingers and motioned the orb to rise above his head. It immediately obeyed his command as it followed his every move, shining a blue-white light several feet above his that temporarily blinded some of the group, such was its brightness.

  “There goes our element of surprise,” snapped Lord Acheron.

  Master Bedwyr glared at him, “Your soldiers may not need the help to but I want my mages to see what’s attacking them.”

  Lord Acheron stared at him and remained silent.

  As the danger was now ahead of them and they had reached the vault, the soldiers took the lead. They were trained in the ways of war and would form the most effective line of both attack and defence, with the trainee mages bringing up the rear, mainly using their magic for self-defence but also remaining alert for commands that would be issued by the Grand Mage for specific ranged attacks.

  Cara instinctively moved to stand beside the Grand Mage. She felt both nervous and excited at the thought of what lay ahead. She was fascinated at the prospect of learning the secrets that lay hidden inside the wizard’s tome, but she was terrified of what she would find when they met with the abomination of what he had become. Although both the soldiers and the trainee mages knew that a powerful creature lurked inside the depths of the vault, Master Bedwyr and Lord Acheron had decided to conceal from them details about the creature’s true origin. The true nature of the creature that they faced, coupled with the refusal by the book of the Seer to reveal the outcome of the pending battle, did nothing to lessen her nerves.

  The floor, roof and walls of the corridor were formed out of the same metal as the door. Light reflected everywhere from the Grand Mage’s orb and there remained little doubt that the enemy would be fully aware of their presence. Yet stealth would never have been possible, as the sound of their many boots rang sharply against the hard metal of the floor. Cara glanced towards Roban, to find him sharing a curious exchange of glances with Bruja. She smiled faintly at the sight of the blossoming friendship that was clearly developing between them.

  Then seemingly out of nowhere, something attacked.

  A soldier was suddenly lifted from the ground as his entire body was slammed against the wall of corridor with such a force, it was as if he had been made out of straw. Then invisible grip then released him, dropping his broken body to the floor in a crumpled heap. A second, then a third soldier were swiftly dispatched in a similar fashion, as the soldiers raised their swords in an attempt to protect themselves from the unseen enemy.

  Unable to turn back, the soldiers immediately surged forward in an attempt to gain more manoeuvrability inside the main vault. As they entered it, it was then that they saw the bodies.

  Hundreds of Demons of every size, shape and colour lay strewn across the floor, many with their bodies torn apart, limbs and entrails splattered everywhere, or simply crushed like ragdolls, with large blood pools of blood congealing around their ruined forms. Nothing remained alive inside the vault except the abomination.

  And it was gigantic.

  The loose flesh around its enormous frame completely filled the North Eastern corner of the main vault. The creature looked to be half-starved as it chewed ravenously upon a piece of bloodied flesh then its snow white eyes narrowed at the sound of their approach. A slender white tongue flicked out between its fangs as it began to lick away a trail of blood that had fallen upon its chin as its gaze rose to study the group.

  Although it appeared to be sat down, the creature was already as tall as the ceiling of the vault which stood over sixty feet in height. Its entire body was completely devoid of fur, with mottled, blue-white skin that oozed a foul-smelling substance that was now clearly discernible. Although its arms were spindly, they were extremely long with vicious looking claws that held razor sharp nails that were each over a foot in length. It was impossible to see its legs, as they were hidden beneath the mounds of flesh that flopped over its enormous belly that was now swelled with food.

  The abomination let out howl and with a wave of its arms, twenty soldiers were raised into the air and then hurled across the room, where they were slammed against the Western wall as it was sprayed it with yet another coating of fresh blood. In response, the remaining soldiers, charged at it head on. Their strategy was to overcome it by their sheer numbers and over two hundred of their surviving brethren ran towards it as they yelled the battle cry of their people.

  Their attack was like sweet nectar to the abomination.

  Its body immediately began to glow with a bright blue light as streaks of lightening shot out from its glowing form. D
ozens of soldiers were immediately hit as their blackened corpses to fell to the floor like a rush of leaves. A second, then a third wave of lightening hit the soldiers, killing dozens more instantly as the remaining soldiers scattered and then made a hasty retreat.

  The eyes of the Grand Mage glistened with rage as he stood in front of the trainee mages, “Lightening, fire, ice, throw everything that you have at it, but protect yourselves with Lapis Scutum first,” he yelled at them as he moved towards the creature that he knew now could only be defeated by the power of magic.

  The mages responded, placing themselves under the protection of stone-skin spell before bombarding the creature with shards of ice, balls of flame and streaks of lightening. The abomination screamed in rage as it shuffled towards them with alarming speed. Master Bedwyr raised both of his hands as streams of blue-white lightening leapt out from his fingertips, hitting the creature square in the chest. It screamed with rage at the indignity of the attack, but swiftly writhed in pain as the full impact of attack from the other mages began to darken small patches of its skin. But even this did nothing but to slow down the creature momentarily, as it raised it razor sharp claws and swiped through their numbers, felling several of the mages in one blow.

  The Grand Mage ducked and rolled to his left, missing the deadly claws of the creature by a hair’s breadth, but landed heavily and grunted in pain as the wind was knocked out of him. The abomination screamed in pleasure, sensing a victory as it attempted to reach the leader of the mages with its claws outstretched.

  Then out of nowhere, Cara appeared.

  Darting forward to stand in front of the struggling man she raised her hands and yelled, “Mutatio!” She deliberately omitted the word ‘Me’ as the spell was directed at the abomination.

  The effect upon the abomination was immediate.

  As an already a mutated and twisted creature of magic, she had used the only magic that could prove to be its undoing. The threads of corruption that had kept it alive for millennia began to unravel.

  It blinked in surprise as its body began to tremble and shake and then began to scream as pus began to ooze out of its eyes and ears. Again it screamed, this time even louder as the other mages quickly added their own magic to hers, causing its entire body to shudder as it began to congeal. Cara and the remaining mages stood firm before it, as a strong blue-green flame now enshrouded its entire body. The abomination was unable to withstand another mutation as every cell in its body became twisted and broken.

  Master Bedwyr slowly rose to his feet as he blinked in awe at what Cara had achieved. In the midst of bloodshed and mayhem, she was the one who had found a way to defeat the abomination that once was the great Wizard Manannán. After a short time, nothing remained of the creature, except a mound of blue-green slime that bubbled and popped as its ooze spread slowly across the floor.

  “Creator be praised,” whispered Master Bedwyr as the soldiers and mages gathered round.

  Cara lowered her hands and blinked. She had felt ‘Barina’ more strongly inside her than ever. It was as if, for the first time her spirit ring had become increasingly self-aware. She instinctively knew that it was ‘Barina’s’ who had somehow communicated to her about which spell to use. She wondered briefly how her spirit ring had been blessed with this insight and not Master Bedwyr’s own spirit rings.

  “Now we can get that tome and take back our island,” she replied as she nodded towards the book pillar that rested against the far Northern wall of the vault.

  The Grand Mage nodded silently as he turned towards it.

  They had found what they had come for. The ancient tome, written by the very hand of the Wizard Manannán, rested atop the black granite pillar book rest. It looked to be made out of black leather, with a strong, thick binding and pages edged in gold leaf. The markings on the front of the book were strange, an image that looked to be a compass overlaid a square, beneath which was an inscription in a language that the Grand Mage did not recognise. Master Bedwyr’s hands hovered over the book, nervous of touching it as he was aware that it might be protected by powerful magic. Instinctively, he reached inside his left breast pocket as his fingers rested around the comforting edges of the book of the Seer. The Grand Mage closed his eyes as if listening to someone for a time, then his eyes flicked open and he smiled in satisfaction as he finally reached for the tome.

  It felt surprisingly warm to the touch and much heavier than he would have imagined. He quickly opened it and began to leaf through its pages, relieved to find that he could decipher the language that was written inside it. Close to the book pillar, he spied two comfortable, yet dust-ridden seats that had been carved into the very wall of the vault and he sat down and began to read. For many hours, the Grand Mage did not move from his resting place as his eyes devoured the text. On occasion, a deep frown of anger passed across his face and at other times, his face held a curiously calm expression that mildly unnerving, especially given the content that the book was most likely to contain.

  “It is most likely dawn now and my father’s armada will have arrived at the Isle of Vallan,” stated Bruja, her tear stained face looking unnaturally pale and exhausted against the glare of the wall torches.

  The Grand Mage remained silent for a moment as his gaze lifted, “Then it is time that we leave,” he said as he snapped shut the book and swiftly stood up, “I cannot remove the curse on your people until I have stopped Ethan and Talina from enacting the ‘second seal’ before the appropriate time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The Grand Mage smiled faintly, “According to this book, we must sanctify the portal inside the Thirteenth Tier first, else our actions will rip apart the threads of magic and destroy every living thing.”

  “You’re bringing Ethan back?” Cara interjected excitedly.

  The Grand Mage nodded, “I don’t know how much progress he has made, but I’m afraid that I can’t waste any time in being gentle about it. Ethan and Talina will be quickly transported back to Nemedia and I will do it as soon as we get out of this vault.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  He was close now. He could almost smell the mage in the air as he clawed at the frozen earth. The Demon halted his movements as he stared at the frozen ground of the cemetery as a cold smile spread slowly across his face. The human had left behind a tiny speck of blood, most likely spilled when he had dug at the hard earth to remove a magical object from the ground. GraJin leaned forward, slipping out his pink tongue to taste the man’s blood, savouring its sweetness as his hunting senses became immediately heightened. He would be able to locate the mage with ease now. As he swallowed down the mage’s essence, the air around him was suddenly filled with the man’s distinct trail. He no longer needed to wait for when magical items were found or when magic was used, he could now locate the human with deadly accuracy. It would not be long now, within a day or two at the most, he would find and kill his prey.

  * * * *

  Ethan frowned angrily at the tiny object that rested in the palm of his hand. For almost a day now, he had been drinking copious amounts of coffee while he sat inside his hotel bedroom with Talina. Although the Fairy had informed him that the Spear would change in size according to the needs of the user, it had so far remained totally unresponsive. He had tried everything, even using the words of power taught to him by Arthfael, but to no avail.

  “Perhaps the Fairies forgot the right words?” Talina asked.

  “Do you really think so?”

  Talina shook her head but remained silent.

  Ethan replaced the object back inside his trouser pocket, “So now what?”

  Talina put down her empty coffee cup, “According to my readings we need to find the ‘Dragon’s breath,” she frowned, “it was quite specific about that.”

  “Where do we go?” Ethan asked in irritation.

  Talina pulled a face and sighed at him wearily, “I think we both now realise that we need to reawaken the powers of the Spear of Lug first. I reme
mber reading about a place in Ireland and I will find out the specific details after dinner.”

  Ethan ran his fingers through his short, dark hair, “I’m so tired of running about everywhere,” he grimaced as he heard his stomach rumble at the mention of food.

  “You must have faith Ethan,” her eyes glistened with emotion, “we have already found the Spear and I know that we shall complete our quest soon.”

  The wisdom of her words and were proven true that very evening, as after only a few short hours of further study, she suddenly gave out a yell of triumph. Talina had found reference to ‘Ail na Míreann’, otherwise known as the ‘stone of divisions’. It stood at the crossroads between the five ancient kingdoms of Connacht, Munster, Leinster, Ulster and Meath and was considered to the gateway to the mystical world. According to legend, the mystical Goddess of all Ireland, Ériu, was buried there.

  In Lebor Gabála, a Druid from the ancient kingdom of Meath had once lit a fire upon the stone that stood upon the Hill of Uisneach. It was this fire that was seen as far away as the Hill of Tara, the fabled seat of the High King of Ireland, where one half of the stone of destiny, Lia Fáil rested, with the remaining half held inside the Throne of Vines for safekeeping. The texts stated that it was only at Uisneach that the first sacred fire could be lit to create the ‘fire eye’ that reawakens the treasures of the Tuatha Dé Danann.

  They arose early the following morning, swiftly leaving the hotel behind them as they caught an early train and then took a bus to a small town known as Athlone, close to the River Shannon in County West Meath. Having booked themselves into a hotel, they enjoyed a hot lunch before setting out to reach the Hill of Uisneach.

  The sun shone brightly across a cloudless sky as birds sang sweet songs that filled the air with the promise of Spring. The two companions slowly ambled cross the lush, green grasses that carpeted their feet as cattle upon nearby fields grazed upon the lush vegetation. As they drew closer to the Hill of Uisneach, the passed by a past a series of circular enclosures, cairns and barrows that were spread out over a two mile radius, but it was the Southwest side of the Hill that interested to them the most. Upon it stood an oddly-shaped limestone rock that was almost fifteen feet high and twenty feet wide, with grasses and small yellow blooms nestled upon its uppermost reaches. The locals referred to the monument as the Cat Stone, due to the vague shape that it resembled and Ethan cocked his head to one side in an attempt to discern its image.