The Screaming Stone: The Otherworld Series Book 2 (2 page)

He refused to acknowledge the sight of it, refused its pull and instead turned his back on it. The instant the door left his field of vision he was pushed, propelled, forward his body hit the ground in such a quick and sudden motion that his reflexes had no time to react and he fell, hard, to the unforgiving grass beneath him.  He struggled to breathe as the imprisoning blackness threatened to form around him and bend him to its will, forcing him to obey.  He rebelled.  Forcing his arms under his body he pushed off the ground and began running.  He ran; away from the door, away from the darkness that held him a prisoner every time he slept.

The darkness faded, slowly at first encouraging him to run faster.  The sound of water drew his attention, it was a new feature in this dreamscape that held him captive on a regular basis and he followed the sound as he outran the darkness, until the darkness had completely disappeared and light began to invade the darker places of his nightly visions.

The light expanded and revealed a small pool of moonlit water.  He allowed himself a small moment of elation punctuated by a loud whoop of joy.  Satisfied that he was safe he stopped to rest by the pool.  His hand brushed the cool, moist surface of a crop of rocks that outlined the hidden body of water.  He exhaled slowly, his eyes growing lazy, his finger tracing a line of ridges in the stone.

The peaceful scene quickly turned chaotic as the calm surface of the water was broken.  From the darkened depths of the moonlit water a ghostly figure draped in a translucent white cloak rose out of the pool.  Frightened, he tried to step back but found that his hand was stuck fast to the rocks as his finger traced a familiar pattern.  He screamed.  All the rage and frustration he had been harboring bellowing out of him the force of which was strong enough to cause the pool to ripple and the ghostly image to flicker out of existence.  As always though he was left with that one haunting word
…

”Cuimhnigh
”

“Dammit Duncan wake up!” 

Duncan shot to his feet his right hand extending without thought calling for Answerer.  The sword quickly thrust itself into his outstretched palm.  As his fingers closed around the pommel his arm was already moving hard and fast downward.  The sound of metal on metal snapped his hazy mind into focus as he became fully alert and awake.

Robert stood before him, teeth clenched, knuckles white with strain as he held off and defended against Duncan’s terrible blow.  The two blades had clashed together missing Robert’s shocked face by inches.  As quickly as he had delivered the attack Duncan released the tension of the blow slowly allowing Robert’s arm to relax.  He quenched Answerer’s desire to attack by stabbing it hard into the wooden floor at his feet.  Duncan shook the remaining tension and minor stinging sensation out of his arms as Robert stood silently, his stance and posture still ready to defend.  All of Knackers’ training was quickly paying off for Robert.

Had Robert not been ready; if he wasn’t constantly carrying the sword Finn had gifted him with Duncan would have had to explain to everyone why he had killed Robert.  That was a conversation he never wanted to have with Annie.  He had to get sleep; he had to get these erratic and frightening dreams under control before he accidently beheaded someone he would miss.  He could feel his control slipping, the barrage of dark dreams and lack of sleep were threatening his sanity and he had to struggle to swallow down another shout of frustration.

“How long have you been seeing that symbol?”  Robert asked quietly.  Duncan refused to answer; he refused to give his dreams a voice.  He had forgotten about Robert’s ability to ‘see’ things he should not and since he was, mostly human Duncan had not yet figured out how to block Robert from entering his mind.

“Not long then,” Robert answered for him.  “Dreams are a powerful form of communication,” he continued.  “Try to remember them; they may be trying to tell you something important.”

Duncan responded by rolling his eyes and turning his back on Robert hoping he would understand that this was a conversation he would not have with anyone, particularly Robert.  Robert was worse than a wash woman at keeping confidences; he did not want his dream problem to make its way back to anyone.

The sun had quickly danced to the west as the purple hues of twilight began to paint the sky.  The squeaking sound of a door opening drew his attention to the small garden below.  Annie had just exited her house and walked slowly down the steps.  As if she could feel his eyes upon her she glanced up at him.  She continued to stare up at him for a few moments, her face remaining expressionless and neutral before she suddenly turned away and began to water her garden.  He sighed.  Even to his ears it sounded sad and pathetic.

              “She misses you too you know,” Robert quietly informed him.  “Maybe you should talk to her about these dreams?”

              “I would tell you before her Robert.”

              “Why?”

Duncan decided to remain quiet.  His silence and stubborn resolve finally drove Robert to take his leave.  When the door closed and Robert’s footsteps faded as he slowly descended the wooden steps Duncan finally allowed himself to answer Robert’s question.

              “Because then she’ll know how terrified I really am.”

Chapter Two

Into the Light

              Damn Manny and his nightly meetings.  Every evening, following an uncomfortable group meal, he would continue to hold everyone captive as he discussed everything from timelines and possible departure scenarios to probable obstacles.  The only bit of entertaining banter had occurred last night when Knackers, who had also grown bored, decided to rile everyone up, and questioned Manny about the possibility of the dragon under Loch Ness awakening.

“Oh, I highly doubt it,” Manny replied with the wave of a dismissive hand.  “Although that could complicate matters,” he added thoughtfully scratching the black stubble that had begun to appear on his chin as he pondered the thought.

“Is there really a dinosaur living in Loch Ness?” Robert asked in honest amazement.  “Nessie, is real?”

Knackers snickered; but quickly hid his amusement in an uncomfortable cough as Manny glared menacingly at him.  “Yes and she is actually a he,” Manny explained refocusing on Robert.  “And he would be quite put out if he ever found out that the world had reversed his gender.  Let’s just hope he continues to enjoy his nap.”

“If ye wanted him ta stay asleep why’d ye draw the world’s attention ta him then?”  Finn asked finding amusement in Manny’s sudden uncomfortable posture.  Duncan paid attention only mildly interested in the story, as he had heard it before; he was much more interested in watching the High King squirm.

Robert, unwilling to let the conversation fall into silence, and hence an early ending to the meeting, kept pressing the matter until he found out the whole story.

The ultimate prankster in his day, Manny had grown bored and in attempt to once again impress upon the descendants of the sons of Mil the power and hence importance of the Sidhe. He produced a rather convincing piece of evidence to the public; a remarkable photo of a creature that lived silently beneath the dark waters of Loch Ness.  The world of man was shocked by the possibility of a prehistoric creature escaping their notice for so long.  Although he had not expected the joke, that was actually a truth to last as long as it had.  Ultimately the joke had been on Manny as it restored his faith in man, and gained him the wrath of many in the Seelie court who thought it better to leave the natural world to the humans.

“So wait,” Annie interjected.  “You’re saying that you thought mankind, that humans, were beneath faekind?”

Manny squirmed under the intensely accusatory glare Annie’s sky blue eyes were pinning him with.  Duncan quickly surveyed the humans in the room and a satisfied grin quickly transformed his dour expression.  The humans in the room seemed more than a little angry at the High King’s opinion of their race.  Duncan sat up a little straighter in his chair as he eagerly awaited the Son of Lir’s response.  Duncan was all too aware of the Sidhe’s preconceived notions that humans were at worst an inferior race and at best a group of spoiled children naively believing the world belonged only to them.  Although the Seelie at times favored or even assisted mankind they still thought themselves the superior beings.  Duncan watched bemused as even Finn seemed to abandon his king leaving him open to an assault by the hostile humans in the room.  Then Manny did the one thing Duncan did not expect; he apologized.

“At one time yes,” Manny replied honestly.  “You have to understand the Sidhe, the sons and daughters of Danu were beaten by your ancestors.”

No one moved as Manny began his roundabout way of explaining the feeling of almost every Seelie and Duncan quickly realized that his last chance at convincing Annie to give up her fight to defend and assist the Sidhe had come and gone.  When no one spoke, Manny sensing his opportunity to make a great inspiring speech quickly continued.

“At first I was the biggest and loudest champion of separation from the natural world.  We had been beaten, soundly I might add, by beings with little to no magick and an abundance of brute strength.”  He pause for the dramatic effect and flair that he was known for as he let his newly imparted knowledge sink into the human audience he currently held captive.

When Robert looked as though he were about to interject Manny held up a hand pleading silently for the chance to continue to plead his case; and surprisingly, Robert willingly complied.  Manny, shockingly, bowed his head in quiet thanks and Duncan sunk into his chair completely willing to sulk in defeat.

“My fake, yet real photo of Nestor was to prove the point once and for all that humans could not and would not ever except something more ancient and more powerful than their own race.  All too quickly the belief spread.  People believed in an Ancient, even though honestly he’s been asleep for more centuries than I care to count,” Manny admitted as he finished up his short story.

With a handful of sentences; and without ever really saying “sorry”, Manny convinced every human in the room to side with the Sidhe.  They all suddenly believed that they were equal to the power of the Sidhe.  They believed that the Sidhe had need of them.  They all thought wrong.  The Sidhe were a proud and stubborn race and would never accept humans as their equals.  Of course Manny had left out all of this.  He left out all of the really good and interesting facts but Duncan knew that anything he said now would only make him seem like a petty nay-sayer to the frightened but determined Derby Nine.

Duncan had very little hope that tonight’s group meeting would vary much from the previous two.  In fact he had considered not attending at all, but because of his earlier encounter with Robert he could not take the chance that he would be pushed further to the outside.  He had already excluded himself enough and allowed the very charismatic High King Manny to take his spot as the one the group looked up too.  It wasn’t jealousy, it was self-preservation.  He had fought amongst these extraordinary humans and Fae; he would not be so easily supplanted by a royal who rode in too late to make a real difference.

After dinner everyone gathered in Annie’s living room.  The atmosphere was particularly light this evening as for the first time Rian’s medical status was listed as completely recovered.  The diminutive Brownie sat proudly next to Annie showing her his newly crafted scabbard that had been created out of scraps of leather, metal and wood that Griffin had laying around the shop for Annie’s old enchanted letter opener.  Even Duncan’s seemingly perpetual sour mood was lifted in the presence of Rian’s enthusiasm.  He was the unlikely hero in the room who still thought everyone was better suited to the role than he was.  Rian, for once, deserved the honor of being the center of attention.  Duncan felt a smile split and crack his face and for the first time in days he felt blessed with the feeling of hope.  If this tiny Fae could take on a god and not only survive but succeed maybe, just maybe Annie could too.

“So if that happens; if all is as everybody hopes, if at all comes true, which one will truly own you heart?”
  An evil thought whispered across his mind.

For a second the joyous smile slipped from his face.  Luckily the happy, positive energy in the room defeated the thought quickly as Rian attempted to demonstrate his new sword skills and became entangled in the curtain’s ripping them from the wall.  The ice blue cloth enveloped him completely creating a comical spectacle as Rian struggled to free himself from the heavy drape.

Knackers’ uncontrollable laughter was quickly silenced by a harsh rap up side his hairy gray head by Fiona as both Annie and Duncan rushed to Rian’s aide.  When they finally managed to free Rian of his cloth prison his brown little face was tinted red with embarrassment and his newly found confidence had quickly vanished.  Annie struggled for words that would not humiliate him further; but it was Duncan, who surprised even himself by coming to the wee Brownie’s defense.

“That reminds me of the time I had to fight off a Lob,” he told Rian, who only acknowledged he had heard Duncan by the tiniest of movements as his eyes shifted from his own feet to Duncan’s.  “Vicious, massive, dark blue blobs they are and damn near impossible to kill,” he explained as he examined the cloth that had attacked Rian.  Duncan paused, remaining silent until he found what he was searching for and the room fell quiet around him, as everyone waited for him to continue.

“Ye see,” Duncan said poking a finger through a tear in the cloth and wiggling it through the hole in the fabric.  “Ye can stab a Lob all ye want and never be rid of it.”  Duncan continued to find tiny tears created by Rian’s blade.  He began warming to his own words and found that his silvery tongue worked best when completely detached from his over thinking mind.  “Lobs are negative hateful creatures that have only one weakness.”

“What’s that?” questioned a whispering Rian.  The almost child-like sense of wonder that filled Rian’s voice made Duncan smile slightly.

Duncan laid a gentle hand on Rian’s child-sized shoulder.  “Laughter,” he replied.  “Joy, hope, compassion and love,” he continued quickly as he felt his eyes drawn to another in the room.  Refusing to allow them to find their target he quickly called them back and hurried on with his explanation.  “A Lob feeds off of and exists only where there is fear and hate, doubt and anger.  I did not know how to defeat a Lob and had to be freed and saved myself.”

A slow, crooked smile brightened the Brownie’s face as Duncan’s meaning sank in.  Duncan could feel the eyes of the room upon him and was suddenly struck by his own case of embarrassment.  He was not used to being the center of attention and had not held the spotlight in quiet some time.  It felt good in a strange way.  A light touch rapidly chased away the ailment and replaced it with a completely different sensation.  His eyes quickly found the source of the warmth that had chased away the darkening chill that had infested his body.  He was rewarded with the smiling face of Annie, free from anger and resentment, filled with only a happy look for him.  He hoped to receive many more in the future as he hated being the one to cause her usually happy disposition to turn sad and bitter.

“Ye”ve never encountered a Lob,” Knackers said interrupting anything from progressing further.  But as he stared into the face of the radiant human that contained a soul he loved, he realized Knackers’ interruption was a prelude to an apology long overdue.

“Of course I have,” he replied never removing his eyes from Annie’s.  “Did ye no’ just see its defeat?”

Knackers snorted, Kat and Fiona sighed in romantic awe and Annie, well, she forgave him with a brilliant smile and quick peck of the cheek that completely obliterated the dying Lob.

“You’re in trouble,”
that evil voice whispered again.

Duncan ignored it again, all the while secretly knowing it was right.

Manny and Finn entered the room and everyone quickly scampered to find seats as the nightly meeting was unofficially called to order.  Manny seemed to guess at the shift in mood this evening and raised a questioning dark eyebrow at the room.

“I feel that Finn and I have interrupted something important,” he stated waiting patiently for a response.  When no one offered to give an answer to his question he tried a more direct approach “Did we interrupt something?” He asked more directly.  Again no one jumped to respond.  Manny crossed his arms over his chest and began tapping his foot while he waited, impatiently for an answer.

Unused to seeing the High King adopt such a comical stance, while at the same time not being instantly obeyed, Duncan tried and failed to hide a bark of laughter.  He was swiftly rewarded by a stern and fierce look that he was more accustomed to and quickly concealed his amusement.  Manny was making his point for him.  No one liked these meetings, everyone wanted to learn more and nightly the High King refused to impart any new information as he was content with being only the center of the group’s attention.  Once it was not focused on him he always fought hard to get it back.  It had been that way in court, and was why he and the Battle Queen usually had disagreements, and it was true here in Salem in Annie’s small living room.  The High King hated being ignored and upstaged by anyone.

“Oh Da, give us a break,” Annie interjected.  “We’re not one of your classes you can intimidate with your cliché teacher glare and toe tapping routine.”

“That’s no’ intimidating?” Knackers asked dumbfounded as he sized up the High King, and as usual, found him frightening, even though he was wearing an old ‘Button your Fly’ shirt.  Duncan did not understand the meaning but every human in the room suddenly began snickering and pointing a finger at Manny’s attire.