Having only a rudimentary understanding of magic, I was out of my depth. But from the look on Cade's face, he was as confused as I was. We didn't have time to confer, as every footstep echoed in the stone hallway. Avram led us into what he'd coined his study, a large room filled with books. Next to me, Cade was practically salivating. But we didn't stop there, walking down a long passageway. It was gloomy and damp, and the lights on the wall did little to illuminate things.
We entered an empty, circular room with a single lamp hanging above our heads. Ward, keeping close to me, made a sound, and I couldn't deny the whole place was unnerving.
"Where are we?" I asked.
"This is our most treasured room," Avram said. "The place where we can call upon the memories stored in the earth to show us the past."
He walked to what at first appeared to be a solid wall, but when he put his hands to it, the rock melted away, revealing a shelf of different stones. They were unimpressive, appearing to be common rocks that could be found on any landscape across the continent. But Avram plucked one from the shelf, cradling it as if it were more precious than gold.
The elder troll placed it on the ground, and it absorbed into the floor. The lamp disappeared into darkness, and I instinctively grabbed the closest hand. The calluses on the palms told me it was Ward's. His fingers closed around mine, and some of my fear abated.
Light blossomed back into the room. The ceiling was now bathed in vivid color, almost like looking through a window into a field.
"This is…" I swallowed. "What is this?"
"As I said, the earth holds memories—much better than the air or the water," Avram said, his voice full of wonder. "The rock I placed in the floor was taken from a moment in time when the course of history changed."
"The aos sí," Cade murmured. "I saw… I mean, I was given a vision of this place. Of this battle." He swallowed, and his brown eyes shimmered in the light. "Is that what we're about to see?"
Avram frowned. "I'm not sure how a wizard… But never mind." He shook his shoulders, and his breathy voice resumed. "A thousand years ago, when the seod croí was whole, the species of this land gathered in the aos sí to take a stand against the wizard Laughlan."
Footsteps, thousands of them, thundered through the room—an army. They were split into factions, each with different armor. The fae were the most recognizable, with their tall stature and pointed ears. But Pennlan's colors were represented, and a surge of pride came over me as they walked shoulder to shoulder with the fae. A third faction was comprised of creatures I'd never seen before, a cross between man and fish with webbing around their faces. And finally the trolls, with their bodies covered in armor and what appeared to be sun hats.
Just as I got a good look at the army, the picture zoomed through the crowd until it landed on five creatures leading the march. A female fae with ebony skin, her hair coiffed in locks down her back. A male fae who shared some of her features but had lighter skin—the Erlking, based on the crown he wore. A troll who resembled Edric very closely stood next to them, his hand resting on a rather impressive axe. Next to him, a pale, female fish creature who wore a tiara of pearls and had thick lips. And finally…
I wasn't sure what it was about my ancestor that looked familiar. The king of Pennlan. My something-great grandfather. Unlike Edric, who seemed to share much of his ancestor's features, this king looked nothing like me, at least at first. But there was something in the shape of his nose that called to me. He couldn't have been older than twenty.
"He's so young," I whispered.
"Laughlan killed his father," Edric said, and I jumped, almost forgetting he was nearby. "That's why the Pennlan people came our aid when none of the other human kingdoms did."
So we were very much alike, then. "What are they waiting for?"
"That."
A black cloud billowed in the distance, drawing closer to the armies. A restless shiver rippled across the crowd as they knew, perhaps, this was a losing battle. Even though I knew the outcome, there was something devastatingly ominous about the impending darkness.
"Is that…a man?" Ward asked, fear evident in his voice.
My heart dropped into my stomach. Even though this was a memory, the evil that emanated from that thing was palpable. As it drew closer to the quintet of leaders, including my ancestor, I held my breath.
"You shouldn't have come, mo anam cara."
The female fae gripped her sword tighter, staring into the darkness. It was then that I remembered what Clíodhna had told me, about who'd made the stone.
"That's Aoibheann," Riona said.
Edric nodded. "Fearsome fae warrior, half-sister to the Erlking. Lover to Laughlan."
Aoibheann stepped forward, her hand resting on the spear on her back. "Give me the stone, mo anam cara. It's corrupted you."
A breathy chuckle echoed from the darkness. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? For me to give up the stone so you can destroy me." The darkness faded around him, leaving a wizard holding a staff. He was handsome, with black hair pulled back into a ponytail, and pale skin dappled with the remnants of a beard. But his eyes…there was something wrong with them. They were pitch black.
At the sight of him, Aoibheann showed her first bit of weakness, the grip on her staff loosening for just a moment. Laughlan seemed to be waiting for that and unleashed a torrent of dark magic that covered the entire picture.
"What happened?" I said. "Where did it go?"
"The actual battle is too horrible to show you," Avram said with a sad shake of his head. "Nearly every soul you saw standing there didn't make it to the end."
I exhaled, thinking about the sheer numbers I'd seen there. So much death. "But what happened?"
"The battle was fought," he said. "And won. But only just."
The picture brightened once more, and my stomach came to my throat. Piles of dead bodies littered the once-green field. The fish creature lady who'd stood next to my ancestor was dead, her head five feet from her body. My ancestor was missing an arm, but he seemed to have been tended to by magic, because the stump was no longer dripping. The others…
The wizard hadn't brought an army; he'd made one. He stood in the center of the field, black magic swirling around him like a vortex. As it cracked lightning to the ground, black beasts appeared with razor-sharp teeth, giant wolves the size of horses. They ran forward, snapping and biting at whatever they could reach. There was no fighting them. Swords and spears went right through them, but their teeth were deadly, tearing into flesh with a sickening sound as they moved on to the next victim.
"Laughlan! This isn't who you are," Aoibheann cried, blood dripping down a nasty gash in her face. She gripped her arm that hung by her side as she limped toward the wizard in the center of the chaos.
One of the shadow creatures bounded toward her, and she used a column of black crows to disintegrate it, gritting her teeth from the pain. She fell to one knee, crying out—but not from her wounds.
"Mo anam cara," she whispered through her tears. "Please, come back to me. Don't make me… Don't make me do this."
Her crows bombarded him, heading straight for his heart. They tore through him momentarily, but he healed himself within seconds, his staff glowing bright with a grayish color.
"You can't—"
The words died in his throat as the multicolored stone fell from his neck, cord sliced by a simple knife, and into the hands of the Pennlan king. He stared into the wizard's eyes, frozen for a moment in fear, as if he knew he'd just messed with the most powerful creature in history.
Before the wizard could speak, he was blasted backward by a cannon of water—from where, I had no idea; there wasn't a body of water around. And before he could recover from that… The final blow came from his lover, who used her fae magic to drive a stake through his heart.
The picture faded, as did the sounds of battle, and I came back to myself, my body, my feet on the ground. I cast a quick look around the room at the others, and was relieved to find them with the same shock and horror I felt on their faces. Cade was staring at his hands, his brow furrowed in concentration. Riona looked shell-shocked. Even Ward, unflappable in most situations, was pale as he finally tore his gaze away.
"That was…" I began quietly.
"Now do you understand why we don't trust your kind, wizard?" Edric said softly, his gaze landing on Cade. "It's truly nothing personal."
He weakly nodded. "I'm nothing like Laughlan, though."
"Laughlan started off with the best of intentions," Edric replied.
"We understand," I said. "And our apologies for not…for pushing the issue. Cade doesn't need his magic, not until we're back in Pennlan."
He swallowed but didn't argue.
"What other memories are stored here?" Cade asked, looking at the shelf.
"Troll history," Avram said. "Nothing of interest to a wizard."
"When we left our lands," Edric said, by way of explanation, "we had to bring with us our most sacred history. The other stones tell tales of kings and legends even older than the seod croí."
Cade made a sound of disagreement, but I cleared my throat. "Thank you, Avram, for showing us this. It's much different to simply be told about the power of the seod croí. Seeing the destruction it could wreak should Eoghan get his hands on all four pieces…" I closed my hand around the necklace. "Our alliance becomes more important than ever."
"Indeed." Edric nodded. "Now, I believe that's enough excitement for one day. Why don't I escort you to your rooms, and we can continue our talks tomorrow?"