The Mirror Sliver Page 10

  The golden eye blinked several times. “I think you’re right,” Bijan finally replied. “I remember something about the Brollachans’ visits which always leaves me curious. They seemed to be overly interested in something at the base of my rocks. A little box. There, down to your left. Maybe that will give us a clue.”

  Ned jumped from his perch and scrambled over numerous boulders until he found a small, ornate silver box embedded in a black rock at the base of Bijan’s stony prison. In the middle of the box was a keyhole. “I found it,” he exclaimed to the giant eye.

  “What do you see? Is there something there that could help me?”

  “It’s some kind of lock.” Looking at the keyhole, Ned bent his eye to the opening and peered inside. The box seemed empty. “But there’s nothing inside. That’s silly. Why have a box with a lock and nothing inside?”

  “What? You’re so wise. How correct to assert that an empty box makes no sense.”

  Ned sat down on the ground across from the silver box and glared at it. He agreed with Bijan. Why would Uthal put an empty box inside a rock? It didn’t make any sense and there wasn’t anything in it to help break a spell, much less open it. As he always seemed to do when he was thinking, Ned touched the silver key under his tunic, his fingers caressing its outline. Suddenly his mind connected to the key. “I got it,” he screamed. “I think I understand.”

  “What? What do you have?”

  Ned fumbled with the chain around his neck. “The key! I’ve got the key!”

  Slipping the sliver key into the box, Ned turned it and was quickly blinded by a brilliant white light. The silver container jerked and moaned. A deep rumbling in the ground beneath him caused him to back away as the rock pile began to split apart. The earth shook violently as the rocks tumbled down to the shoreline and into the hidden underground lake.

  In a split moment, the golden eye was freed from its prison. Ned watched as the dust settled and Bijan shook off the remaining debris from his body. The boy sucked in his breath, amazed at the massive pale white dragon that towered above him.

  Bijan spread his wings, testing muscle and bone. “I feel so much better,” he said. He bent closer to Ned. “Thank you for breaking the spell.”

  “You’re welcome,” Ned whispered. He was too afraid to move. Just in case the beast stepped on him. Accustomed to DaGon’s small stature, the immense size of Bijan was overpowering. “I didn’t know you were a dragon.”

  “Would that have made a difference? Would you have left me imprisoned if you knew what I was?”

  “No. I mean yes. Oh, I’m getting confused. I mean no. It wouldn’t have made a difference. And yes. I still would have broken the spell.”

  Bijan drew in a deep breath, his large chest filling with air. “What’s your name, my young rescuer?”

  “Ned. My name is Ned Neely.”

  With grandeur, Bijan bowed. “Ned Neely, I’m in your debt forever. But first I must pay a visit to Uthal and exact a revenge for the Fomorian people.”

  “Okay. That’s kinda where we were headed, too.”

  The dragon lowered his head to view Ned. “Who are the we you speak of?”

  “My friends and I. Keltrain, DaGon, Lily and Lamfada, my brother, Thomas, and my cousin, Miranda. Oh, and then there’s this weird boy named Lug and a talking cat named Sonya. But she got hurt. We had Matt too, but he got washed overboard while we were sailing here. Although my cousin Miranda says she thinks he’s alive and is still on the island. That’s how I got stuck down here. I saw him. Or thought it was him…”

  “Can you go a little slower with your words, young Ned?”

  “Sorry. It’s just all jumbled up in my head like that. We’re on our way to Crag Cairn to face Uthal and rescue children he kidnapped from Earth. Me and my family and friends. Keltrain says that old evil warlock is beginning a spell that caused the destruction of the Fomorian homeland on Earth.”

  “Ah, yes. I know what he’s speaking of. Keltrain was a dear friend to the Fomorians. It’s a very dangerous spell. I remember it and the first time the Black Warlock cast its words. Its blackness sought the life and souls of those with magic. It was horrible. It took from them the essence that made them unique. It hollowed them out, leaving only a shell, an empty being. Others it killed. The Fomorian people gathered to battle him and those that followed his dark sermons. We all hoped to end the suffering he inflicted on Earth and the magic creatures who lived there. But the Great War only tore the land of Crystal Palaces and it sank beneath the sea. Our fight did nothing to stop Uthal.

  “The Elf King and Queen were able to find this world through the portals. What was left of magic creatures and the Fomorian people escaped through it. We all thought we had found sanctuary at last. I don’t know much after the beginning of the Second War on Green Isle. I was tricked by a Bodach who took the likeness of Prince Finley, and when I woke up I was imprisoned. Here in the red cavern. My body mingled with rock, except for one eye.”

  Ned thought about his experience before tumbling down into Bijan’s cavern. The connection his mind made to the dragon’s words and the figure of Matt came together in an explosion of emotion.

  It had been just outside Keltrain’s gardens, in the night, when he and the others had come across the Bodach. The creature told them he could be trusted and would take the scent of Matt far away from them so they could travel in safety. It had been a trick from the very beginning. Ned realized that they had made a mistake in trusting the thing. The Bodach who had become Matt came here. That Bodach didn’t care one bit about their quest. Ned began to worry for his brother and Miranda. Would they be able to see through the disguise if they met up with it? Or would they fall into the trap like he did? “We have to get out of here,” he said to the dragon.

  “What’s the matter, Ned Neely?” the dragon inquired. “There’s a different look to your face.” Bijan bent closer to Ned.

  “There’s another Bodach here on the island and it’s taken the form of my friend that drowned on our way over here. If I don’t get out to warn my friends and family, it will trick the others like it did me. It’s how I ended up down here. It tricked me into thinking my friend was hurt. I fell into the hole trying to help it,” he said. He pointed up to the small opening he fell through. “It made me think that it was my friend. I walked right into the trap.”

  Bijan drew back. “Then we’ll find our way out. For I believe that our two destinies lie together. I’ll fight alongside you. When you and your friends confront Uthal.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “Did you feel that?” Olifur asked. His furry face turned toward Nimi, the soft brown eyes questioning.

  “Yes. A powerful shake of the ground. Like the island heaving in pain,” the elf murmured.

  Idril stood still as the last of the rumblings passed through the hill where they stopped. Snow fell around them, enveloping the travelers in a curtain of white crystals. The weather had turned bitter once they broke camp in the early morning hours. Seeing the white flakes on his dingy white cloak brought forth the only short memory he had. It was strange, the darkness that his mind hid in. And yet, there was the one instance of the past. That of a horseback ride in a raging blizzard, his arms sheltering someone in front of him.

  “Idril? Are you okay?” the soft voice of Adalay whispered from behind him.

  “Yes. I was just reflecting on the only memory I have. That of snow.”

  “I wish I could help you remember. But without my book, I’m lost. I can only recall some spells.”

  Idril laughed slightly. “We both appear to have problems.”

  “Tell me what your memory is of.” The woman prodded. “Perhaps I can help decipher it.”

  Falling back into step with Adalay, Idril hesitated before he spoke. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know more of his past. What if he found out he wasn’t a good person? What if he wasn’t the hero or valiant wielder of magic like Nimi believed? He didn’t want to disappoint his new friends.

&n
bsp; “I’m riding on the back of an animal. It’s a large brown horse and there’s someone in front of me. Smaller. With a white cloak on. Like this.” He held up his own dirty wool cloak. “The snow is falling heavily and we’re riding fast. I can sense an urgency. We needed to get somewhere, somewhere very important.”

  “You do remember someone else with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then do you think it’s possible you were headed here to Black Isle for a purpose? Maybe you’ve been separated from your companions?”

  Idril glanced at Adalay. Did she know something he didn’t? She shivered and gathered the furs around her body as their gazes locked. What did she see when she looked at him? She was always watching him.

  “It’s not what you think,” she said quietly, like she had read his thoughts.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m just trying to figure out who you are. That’s all.”

  “I sense your presence in here,” he replied, touching his temple. “I don’t know if I like the intrusion.”

  “The intrusion is part of my powers. I’m only trying to help you figure out your memories.”

  “What did you see, then?”

  “A lot of darkness.”

  Idril grimaced. He looked away. The realization that his past was hidden from him didn’t do anything to comfort him.

  “We’ll need to travel up,” Nimi stated. His finger pointed toward the sky. He stopped and turned. “The fortress is hidden in the center of the island’s mountains.”

  Idril nodded his understanding. He had already noticed that the woods had begun to thin as they started to climb the steep trail. The landscape had become more barren. Passing through the remnants of an ancient city earlier in the morning, Nimi had pointed to the snow-covered peaks above them. He told them that the mountain pass was their destination.

  To Idril, it seemed like a daredevil plan, as Nimi explained how he believed finding a hidden door at the back of Uthal’s castle would be the safest route into the interior. Once in, the elf insisted that he would be able to carry out Queen Erulisse’s orders and find out where Bera had hidden Uthal’s prison—the Mirror of Arianhod.

  “The Mirror of Arianhod is another ancient Fomorian artifact,” he explained. “But its powers are limited. Bera knows this. I’ve heard rumors that she’s sent the princess of the Shadow People to find the last unicorn.”

  “What happens if the last unicorn is found?” Idril asked.

  “Then we’re lost. The unicorn is the only being left of purest light and goodness that can stand against Uthal and his escape from the mirror. If the unicorn is killed, the power of the mirror dims.”

  “And?”

  “He will break free from his prison. This is why the witch wants it. That and its power are needed for the forbidden spell.”

  Idril’s mind came back to the present. He touched the box under his tunic, his mind shifting through the hazy memory of the horseback ride and the items he carried with him. He wondered why he possessed such great artifacts of magic. What was their purpose? And could he really be here to help Nimi?

  He pulled the box out, opening its lid. The black wood of the wand shimmered, the golden images dancing in the grey light. He took the wand from its haven and rubbed his fingers over the polished shaft. Sighing, he felt hopeless. His heart longed to understand its meaning. More than anything, he wished he could be the great wielder of magic that Nimi thought he was. It would surely give him the means necessary to aid in this struggle that Nimi spoke of.

  Without warning, a jolt of hot electric fire shot through his fingers from the wand. The immense heat traveled through the bones in his hand and then his arm. It pierced through his skin. The accompanying pain caused him to drop to his knees, crying in agony.

  “Make it stop!” he screamed. A multitude of voices filled his head, swirling in a chaotic frenzy, like a million bits of lights dotting his senses. He tried to let go of the wand, but his fingers wouldn’t release the wood. The magic from it burned. He watched in horror as a multitude of emblems and designs were traced by the magic flame into his fingers and then his hand. The pain continued to travel up his arm and he felt it scorching his neck and face.

  Adalay’s screams came to him, but they were very faint. He watched as Nimi made his way to where Idril knelt in the snow. Both Adalay and Nimi were shouting at him, but their words were lost as the voices grew louder in his head and drowned out everything else. Shaking and trembling, his body filled with light and his hand grew hotter. The rage of the voices grew more intense until all rushed together like a great wind, roaring and tearing at his soul. Then just as quickly as it came, it left. Everything became silent. No movement, save for the gentle falling of the snow. He opened his mouth and gasped for air.

  The wand fell from his grasp and Idril remained still. The left side of his body throbbed. Nimi knelt next to him and picked the ancient talisman up. He quickly placed it back into the box and slammed the lid shut.

  “What happened?” the elf asked. He forced Idril to look at him. “Did you call for the wand’s magic? What did you do?”

  Idril couldn’t find his voice. He opened his mouth again, but nothing came out. He wanted to tell them what he just experienced, but for some reason, the voices wouldn’t let him say the words. They quieted him. The stillness within his soul was uneasy and unfamiliar.

  “Look at his body!” Adalay exclaimed. “There are strange markings burned into his skin. These are Fomorian symbols. Druid symbols. All combined together. What happened?”

  Idril felt Nimi uncurl his left hand. “It’s marked you, Idril. It’s chosen you for its own,” Nimi explained. The elf took snow and begin to pat it on the burns. “I told you that you were a great wielder of magic.”

  Idril looked down at his hand and saw the strange signs. His eyes followed the markings to his wrist. He could still feel the heat on the left side of his neck and face. He knew it too. The wand had taken him. The markings were a message, but they wouldn’t say for who. This is what the voices were saying to him. It had given him his heart’s desire. He had become the master of true magic. His soul belonged to Green Isle.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “How can we leave him like that?” Thomas exclaimed.

  “We must get to Uthal’s castle before it’s too late. I’m sorry, Thomas, but we’ve got to follow through with our quest. There are others who are depending on us. Please believe me when I tell you that this isn’t an easy choice for me to make,” Keltrain replied.

  “I saw where he fell in. It was a large cavern. We can climb down into it to see if he is still…” Thomas couldn’t finish the sentence. His whole body shuddered with grief.

  Inwardly, Thomas admonished himself for not going with Ned into the woods. The heavy guilt of his brother’s demise weighed deeply on him. When Ned hadn’t returned, Thomas went looking for him. He happened to catch a glimpse of Ned chasing something. Quickly he followed, but he wasn’t in time. It was Ned’s yell that brought him close enough to witness the cave-in. “It’s all my fault,” he whispered.

  “It was my duty to look after both of you. I’ve failed,” DaGon said. “I should’ve been more careful.”

  “It’s far deeper than any rope we have.” Lug rose from the edge of the hole. “We could lose another trying to find the bottom.”

  “Thomas, I know this is hard and all. It’s hard for me, too. But we gotta get to the others before they start the spell.”

  Thomas looked at his cousin. He knew Miranda was right, but his heart was crying out for his brother. He felt torn between Ned and his duty to the quest. After they had lowered a torch down into the hole as far as their ropes would reach, he realized the blackness went on forever. Could Ned have even survived that? He swiped at a tear in the corner of his eye.

  “I’m sorry, but we’ve got to go on,” the wizard said. His voice was soft, but firm. “There’s nothing more we can do.”

  Hot tears streamed down Thom
as’ cheeks. This was the most difficult thing he had ever faced. Knowing that he would never see Ned again was a painful acknowledgement of their frailty. Feeling Miranda’s arms around him, he buried his face in her neck and sobbed. Their group had become broken and splintered. How could he go on? How could he protect Miranda like he promised Matt, when he couldn’t even protect his own brother?

  “It’ll be okay, Thomas. I promise. We’ll come back after we’ve finished at Crag Cairn and we’ll bring longer rope,” the girl whispered, unsuccessfully attempting to stifle her own tears. “I’m not going to give up on Matt or Ned. They aren’t dead. I can feel it.”

  Thomas let go of Miranda and wiped his face. “Okay. Okay. I believe you. Your magic is strong. I see it when you hold that sword at night. When ya think everyone is sleepin’, I see it. I see it in your face. If you say he’s all right, then he’s all right. But ya gotta promise me. We’ll come back to find him.”

  “We’re not goin’ back home without either one of them. I wouldn’t allow it.”

  Thomas turned and looked back at the black shore behind them. He hated this island and in a small secret space in his heart, he hated Green Isle. He hated it because of what this quest had done to all of them. He hated it because it made him feel alone. Nothing made sense in this place and no matter what any of his friends said, he hated it most of all because he felt magic asked too much of them. It took everything and offered nothing in return. Thomas felt a jolt beneath his feet. As if in response to the angry feelings he harbored, the ground shook violently, the rumbling lasting several seconds.

  “Are there normally earthquakes on this island?” Lug asked.

  “I don’t be rememberin’ no quakes here. Do ya think that witch is startin’ the spell, wizard?”

  Keltrain looked bewildered. “I can’t say that I can ever place a memory of quakes on this island. But my time here was brief. And that was three thousand years in the past.”