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Ghalien: A Novel of the Otherworld Page 5
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I gave a slight nod of my head as the three other members of our party did the same.
"Fenrah is our best archer and has the eyes of an eagle."
The small woman ducked her head and gave a shy smile.
"Rhyne and Devlin have only been with us for a few years, but Rhyne is fearless in battle and can use his glamour to aid in healing the wounds of others. He also has a knack for foraging up something edible when no other food can be found and is famous for his savory stew."
"Enorah, I asked you not to share that information with others around. I don't want it to detract from my reputation as a skilled warrior."
Rhyne stood straight and crossed his arms over his chest with a sniff. Enorah rolled her eyes and Fenrah considered him the way one considers an insect they are planning to flick off their arm.
I fought to hide my grin. Oh, I could remember being that young and prideful . . .
"Rhyne, the only reason you are such a great chef is because mother couldn't catch me and force me to help her with the cooking while we were growing up."
Rhyne's confident demeanor lost a bit of its haughtiness at his brother's claim.
Unlike me, Fenrah made no effort to hide her laughter.
Devlin turned to look in my direction. His hair was nearly shoulder length and he was shorter than me by only an inch or two.
"As Enorah said, I'm Devlin O'Brolaigh and as you most assuredly guessed, Rhyne is my little brother. Don't mind his boastfulness," he aimed toward the women. "He considers himself amusing and still hasn't quite grasped the concept of manners yet."
"Oh, his self-proclaimed prowess doesn't bother me," Fenrah said. With lightning speed she whipped out a small dagger and proceeded to flip it in her hand, her gaze on Rhyne the entire time. "I've practiced with you before, don't you remember? No need to worry about your wounded pride in this company. Besides, your culinary capabilities far outshine your martial ones, so I wouldn't be too quick to disregard Enorah's compliment."
Rhyne pressed a hand to his heart. "Lady Fenrah, I am hurt by such an insult and I can only assume that you have drawn your dagger because you wish to help me prepare dinner later."
That made us all laugh and Fenrah returned her knife to its sheath. So, young Rhyne wasn't so arrogant after all. That would prove beneficial to all of us. There was nothing worse than going on a long campaign with a hot-headed young man who was out to prove something.
Enorah smiled and nodded at Devlin. "Devlin is our best tracker. He can hunt down a flea after a heavy rainstorm."
I arched a brow at him. That indeed was a rare talent.
Devlin merely shrugged, his handsome face losing a bit of the dominance it portrayed while dealing with his brother. "It's all about detecting glamour. Rain and time can wash away scent and footprints, but if you know what the glamour of your quarry looks like, then that's all you need to search for."
I considered that for a moment. It made sense to me. After all, that is how I initially found Meghan. She had left a very obvious trail of pale blue glamour for me to follow. But a flea?
I voiced my concerns aloud.
"It's hard to believe, but I've seen him chase after animals I was certain no one could catch," Enorah continued, "and he's always brought them back if any of us asked him to."
"Amazing," I admitted. I'd have to ask him for some tips later.
"He's not a bad fighter either," Rhyne piped up. "He's only come close to beating me twice during any of our sparring competitions."
"Rhyne," Devlin said, "we've only ever had two sparring competitions and both times my arm was broken. And we were five and nine at the time, barely capable of punching each other properly, let alone knowing how to fight like well-trained soldiers."
I stood back and watched the brotherly banter, enjoying it immensely. I wondered what it would have been like having a brother growing up, but then I glanced over at Enorah. She was giving the two men the same look she often gave me when I was being stubborn. I could feel the smile spread on my face. I wouldn't trade Enorah for a dozen brothers.
"Alright, we're wasting time," Enorah exclaimed in exasperation. "If you two can't control your sibling rivalry, I'll leave you behind."
Immediately Devlin and Rhyne stopped their arguing.
"Yes ma'am!" Rhyne crowed, saluting her with a hand to the forehead.
She walked over and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him close so she could hiss, "And don't call me ma'am."
"That hurt!" Rhyne pouted, rubbing his neck after my sister let him go.
"Good. Now, let's head off. It's getting late and we have a ways to walk."
The young archer was the first to follow after my sister, her long dark hair trailing behind her like a banner. Rhyne was next, his eagerness to get moving apparent. Devlin followed his brother, but he cast me an inquiring look. I nodded, happy to take up the rear and wondering if I'd be left to my own thoughts for the next hour or so. When Devlin slowed and allowed me to catch up, I realized I wouldn't be left in silence after all.
"Enorah has told us much about you," he said as he walked halfway off the trail to match my stride.
I let that statement roll around in my head for a few moments. I could only imagine what my sister had said to him and anyone else who would bother to listen. Enorah had a tendency to build me up when I wasn't around to contradict her. I only hoped she hadn't brainwashed the O'Brolaigh brothers into thinking I was some sort of hero. My molars ground against each other just from the mere thought. I was not, and never would be, the perfect image she often painted of me. Unfortunately, it seemed natural for older sisters to take pride in their younger brothers, no matter the magnitude of their faults.
Getting back to Devlin, I gave him a quick glance before returning my attention to the trail and people ahead of us. "Oh?"
"She has told my brother and me that you have faced off many foes and defeated the Morrigan's monsters."
I shrugged. That much, at least, was true.
Devlin was silent for a long while as we moved closer and closer to our destination. Fortunately for me I could handle awkward silences. I wondered if Devlin was able to do the same. Every now and again I'd check on him out of the corner of my eye. He seemed contented enough striding along with only the occasional rustle from the forest's undergrowth to disturb the relative quiet. Good to know. A few times I tried to guess his age, but with Faelorehn men and women that can be difficult. His eyes had given the impression that he was very young, maybe around twenty years of age, maybe older, and he had silver hoops in both his ears. That reminded me of my early, rebellious adulthood. Though I never got any piercings, many of my tattoos were acquired just as I'd come out of my teenage years. Some of them I'd acquired by choice, others . . . had been given to me without my consent.
Eventually we caught up to Enorah, Fenrah and Rhyne, all three of them standing in the middle of the trail and staring reverently at the giant, twisted tree looming before them. The branches and roots intertwined to form a natural woven pattern all around the trunk, and a shallow pool surrounded the entire scene. The Tree of Life, in all its resplendent glory.
Enorah's eyes had paled to silver and Fenrah's were now a light coffee hue. I could feel mine change as well, probably a shade closer to emerald. Being in the Tree's presence often did that to us. I glanced at Rhyne and then Devlin. Oddly, their eyes looked exactly the same as they had when we'd started out on this little hike. They must have stronger constitutions than I'd given them credit for.
Before I could consider it further, the white stag from three days ago appeared around the other side of the pool. Behind him strode the god of the Wild himself: Cernunnos.
Immediately I was on guard, and I sensed Devlin growing fully alert beside me. Even Rhyne, who had proven to be so easy-going and genial during our hike, stepped in front of Fenrah. If he'd had hackles, they'd be standing on end. I exhaled sharply and ground my teeth. Cernunnos had that effect on men. He exuded territorial dominance and it was taking every ou
nce of my self-control not to bolt forward and stand in front of Enorah. For one thing, I would look like a fool if I did it. For another, Enorah might kill me, or at least stab me. She was a big girl and could take care of herself. Or so she would tell me.
The forest god must have sensed the tension surrounding our small group, for he stopped several feet away, his head angled ever so slightly forward so that the points of his massive antlers aimed toward us. I got the message loud and clear: this was his territory and he would do as he so pleased. Fortunately, he needed our help or else this little meeting might end with several puncture wounds and a missing eye or two.
"I am glad you have at least decided to consider my request," he said, his rich voice cutting through the relative quiet of the forest.
"Of course, my lord," Enorah answered, bowing ever so slightly to the antlered god.
"And you are Enorah, the one who looks after the Wildren."
Cernunnos's smile was a little too familiar for me. Against my better judgment, I stepped forward, but only to stand next to my sister. The look on her face was enough to warn me off.
"And I am Caedehn MacRoich. You asked for me specifically," I pronounced.
"Ah yes, the bastard son of Cuchulainn and the Morrigan."
From the sound Enorah made, she was more insulted than I. He spoke the truth, of course, but he could have left the 'bastard' part out of it. I let him know I didn't appreciate his attitude.
"You must have been rather desperate to call on me. If you know that much about my parentage, then you most definitely know about the gift I inherited from my father."
Cernunnos merely arched an eyebrow and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
With my lip curled in a sneer, I continued, "If you have nothing but insults to offer, then I'm sorry to say we can't help you."
I turned with every intention of leaving, but apparently the meeting wasn't over.
"Wait," Cernunnos called out. "Forgive me. It is only the frustration in dealing with the Cruimolc that has forced my manners to retreat."
"Cade?" Enorah whispered to me. "Let's just hear him out, okay?"
Grinding down my pride, I turned back around.
"What manner of Cruimolc are we talking about?" Rhyne asked.
Cernunnos released a heavy breath and placed his hands on his hips. "I've only seen it once, and the lighting was very poor. This one is large, bigger than one of Donn's bulls, and it likes dark holes in the ground. Preferably caves. It has been causing the women of Amsihr some trouble of late and has also begun taking deer from the edge of the Weald in the north."
As he spoke, my mind spun in circles, trying to come up with a name for this particular creature. Cruimolc was the general, Faelorehn term for the unpleasant, harmful beasts that came from other worlds. Not the mortal world, of course, but from the other places some of the dolmarehn could take us. The lands of Fomor and Firiehn came to mind, and my instincts told me that this particular monster had come from Firiehn, the land of the Fir Bolg; the fire people. And the variety of monster that inhabited Firiehn tended to be the fire-breathing, scaly type.
"A draghan?" I rasped, afraid to hear Cernunnos's answer.
Cernunnos pinned me with his earth-brown eyes and nodded once.
A shiver rippled through me as the others reacted. Fenrah cursed, Devlin flinched, Rhyne drew in a sharp breath and Enorah grew instantly still.
"You do realize that draghans are nearly impossible to kill, don't you?"
Cernunnos narrowed his eyes at the elder O'Brolaigh brother.
"Why do you think I called upon the notorious Caedehn MacRoich, then?"
The antlered god swung an arm in my direction, obviously annoyed that he had to ask our help to begin with. Devlin didn't seem dissuaded. In fact, the light smirk on his face suggested he was aware of the fact that the Lord of the Wild needed help from the lowly Faelorehn, and he wasn't afraid to bring that out in the open. I also recognized that look because it reminded me of myself, eager for a new challenge. My respect for him climbed a notch or two. It took gall to speak to the Tuatha De of their weaknesses and to welcome a fight with a draghan.
"I'd like to know more about the favor you will owe us, should we succeed. Does that mean a favor for each of us, or one for the whole group?" Devlin asked.
"If you complete the task to my satisfaction you mean? Then a favor will be granted to each of you," Cernunnos answered, forgetting his ire.
"It will have to be a pretty big favor. The last draghan known to invade Eile stayed for a century. It took the combined efforts of the Dagda, Lugh and Nuadu to slay it. I will not barter my life on this venture if it doesn't end with something worth the risk."
I turned and gave Fenrah a surprised look. That was the most I'd heard out of her the entire morning.
"This draghan is very young, and I already managed to wound it."
"What about the Du-brea?" Enorah stepped forward, away from my side. "The great bears that guard the mountains. Are they not still loyal to the Amsihria? Can they not band together and defeat this Cruimolc?"
Cernunnos's face darkened. "They tried, with my guidance. That is how the beast became injured in the first place, but many of the Du-brea were lost in that battle and now the draghan stays close to the caverns the Amsihria call home. This is why I need your help."
Enorah recoiled and for a moment I thought she was going to tuck herself against my side. She managed to hold off and keep her ground. As horrifying as it was to imagine something taking down one, if not several, of the huge, feral bears that roamed the Amsihr Mountains, Enorah, like me, had her pride to keep.
"So," Cernunnos continued, "you can clearly see why someone with the ability to shift into riastrad might prove useful."
I nodded my head once. The longer I stood here and listened to Cernunnos, the more I became convinced that I needed to lend aid.
"It won't be long before the draghan grows bored with the game in the Weald, and it will eventually heal from its wounds as well. If it is left alone much longer, it will become too large to handle. It needs to be dealt with right away."
He cast his eyes around the whole group. "I do not wish to lay this burden on all of you. Caedehn should be able to handle this on his own."
"No," Enorah barked right away. "I'll go with him."
"And he'll need someone to track the monster down," Devlin added, stepping forward.
"And someone to distract it with arrows," Fenrah said.
There was silence from Rhyne, that is until Fenrah jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. The young man doubled over and acted like her actions had wounded him severely. Devlin only rolled his eyes skyward. When Rhyne righted himself, he threw his arms up in the air in defeat. "Alright! I'll come along too. Someone will have to cook for you, after all, and my brother couldn't boil water if his life depended on it."
Devlin shook his head, but he couldn't stop a grin from forming on his face. Fenrah cast Rhyne a smile that reached her eyes. Huh, maybe there was hope for the boy yet.
Six
Journey
After returning to the village, Enorah left to hunt down those who would act in her place while she was gone. Fenrah, Rhyne, Devlin and I were given the task of gathering what supplies we would need for our journey. During the walk back, we had discussed our plan of action: It would take us a week to travel to the edge of the Weald in the north, and another day or two to reach the base of the Amsihr Mountains. Then, we had to find the dwelling place of the Amsihria, a massive cave about halfway up one of the mountains. I only hoped it was one of the mountains closest to the great forest. As I repacked my bag from the three days I'd been in the Weald, I thought about this newest, dangerous mission. A draghan was one of the most formidable creatures found in our world and those beyond our dolmarehn. If it had been a full-grown draghan, then I would not have accepted. But a young, wounded one? We might just have a chance, and then I could ask a favor of Cernunnos. I hadn't any idea what I might request
of the antlered god, but I had a few weeks to think about it.
My pack ready to go, I emerged from my cabin intent on helping the O'Brolaigh brothers or Fenrah sort through our food options. The village was alive with easy activity. Small children chased each other around, doing their best to avoid the older adults trying to capture them and force them into preparing the evening meal. Someone had started gathering wood for the fire, and in the distance I could hear others singing and playing hand-crafted instruments. The spirits of the wild wood seemed to appreciate such activities, because the broad leaves of the massive beech trees swayed in tune with it all.
I spotted Devlin and Rhyne at the edge of the village, arguing with an older woman who stood guard in front of the smoke house. Heading in their direction, I let my mind wander again. I wondered if the draghan had purposely sought out the realm of the Amsihria or if it was just a coincidence. I quietly went over what I knew about the beasts. Draghans of all types had a natural affinity for earthly wonders. Gems, precious metals and jewels, to name a few of the things the scaly creatures coveted, and ground draghans were especially notorious. Some people gathered their eggs and used the hatchlings to sniff out valuable ore, then killed them as they grew too large and unruly to handle. I frowned at the barbaric practice. In my opinion, such wild creatures should be left where they belong. Unfortunately, every now and again, they wormed their way into places where they didn't belong, and that was when someone like me usually had to step in.
Giving my head a shake, I turned my thoughts onto the Amsihria. I knew a little about them, that they were all women and lived together, cloistered up in the mountains. From what I'd heard they were like a religious cult, content on shunning the outside world so they could do their great work. I didn't know very much about their magic, but unlike the magic of the rest of the Faelorehn, it was very subtle and was more internal than the rest of ours. All except for the Taeriehl, the lightning tamers. Wild stories had been told about the women with this rare gift. Instead of pulling in Eile's fury whenever a tempest or storm raged upon the land, the lightning tamers directed the powerful bolts of electricity, using their own electric current to drive the charge into the ground or into the sea. I'd also heard stories of these women capturing the raw power of Eile's lightening and then producing their own bolts of electricity even when a storm was nowhere to be seen. If such tales were true, I would not want to end up on a Taeriehl's bad side.