Brendan sighed. He had finally reached the moment he had long been awaiting. His boxes and bags were packed, the car was loaded, and his father and sister were waiting to say good-bye. It was such a strange feeling to finally be leaving.
He took one last look around his room. It was a small room in a small brownstone in Kingston, an outer neighborhood of the greater metropolis of New York City, but it had been his sanctuary ever since his family moved in nine years ago. So much had happened in those nine years and a flood of memories swept over his mind. He recalled family dinners and ballgames, traveling upstate to visit grandparents, laughing with his friends over some dumb videos on the Internet, and a whole lot of other everyday things that anyone could relate to. But there were some things that were uniquely his.
What would his mother think of him now? It wasn’t every day that a young man earned a soccer and academic scholarship to Syracuse University, pre-med. He had been thirteen when she died in a car crash. He missed her laugh and her carefree nature. That hurt him more than he ever cared to reveal to anyone. Her death really changed him. It even caused him to resent his father for a time. Maybe it was the normal angst teens felt towards their parents, but his father seemed to understand.
Of course, his father became even more understanding when he took Brendan and his sister, Lizzie, to Ireland last summer. Now that was an experience that none of them could forget. His father really didn’t get to see all of the things that Lizzie and Brendan endured on the Emerald Isle, but that was probably for the best. Most fathers probably wouldn’t want to know that their children had actually battled the creatures of myths and legends, although Brendan knew that Oscar must have had some idea.
So many things in the house reminded Brendan of that experience. There were ragged clothes and still-healing scars that he and Lizzie brought back home. There were nightmares and strange visions on occasion, but they had lessened over the past few months. He and Lizzie would strike up quiet conversations and talk about seeing the Leprechauns for the first time and travelling with Sean on his ship under the water. Lizzie didn’t like talking about the possessed Sidhes or Merrows, or the Kelpies or Ruas. It was hard for her to wrap her mind around such life-threatening encounters, like so many others who had faced-off against horrific experiences. Brendan, on the other hand, knew they had accomplished something great, and he was feeling stronger every day. He hoped that nothing else was going to happen like that again, but if it did, then he’d be there to deal with it.
Brendan grabbed his backpack and entered the hallway. The walls were a mosaic of family pictures and Irish relics. All of it was homey enough, except for the odd box sitting at an angle on a corner table. His father had picked up the old stone box in Gilshery—it was ornately decorated with Celtic symbols, most of which were faded and almost indecipherable. Brendan examined the box for about the thousandth time, and it always brought on the same feeling of dread. It was like the box was alive or something.
Wow! That still sounded crazy to think about. Brendan and Lizzie knew that if they told anyone about their Irish adventure they would either be called liars or nut-jobs. Was it really that hard to believe that they hooked up with a group of Leprechauns and a half-spirit/half-man and hunted down a crazy, powerful witch before she tried to destroy all humanity with a magically crafted obsidian dagger? Okay, when he thought about it like that maybe it was a little crazy, but doesn’t crazy happen all the time in this world?
He gave the box one last look, half expecting something mysterious to happen, but when it just sat there like any other box, he moved down the stairs and found his family in the kitchen eating breakfast. He decided the box was only ominous in his mind.
“There he is,” announced his father proudly. “The big college man.”
“Look, Dad. He looks as surprised about it as we do,” jabbed Lizzie with a grin as Brendan pretended to laugh.
“Maybe one day you’ll make it into college, too. I doubt as a student, but maybe you could work in the cafeteria,” Brendan retorted.
He poured a bowl of Fruity Pebbles, added some milk, and leaned against the counter to eat it.
“Is that what all the grown-ups are going to eat at Syracuse?” Lizzie asked.
Brendan took a big spoonful and grinned. His teeth were colorful and ridiculous to look at. They all laughed together as a family. How many more moments would they have like that, Brendan couldn’t say.
…
Corways was bustling with the usual Leprechaun activity as they prepared for the Midsummer Celebration. All Leprechauns were anticipating the three-day festival where singing and dancing, food and drink, and the renewal of commitments to family and friends commenced. This year’s celebration was going to be bittersweet for the fine folks of Corways because it would be the first any of them could remember without King Duncan. Having lost Duncan at the hands of the mad witch, Morna, it was left to his daughter Queen Dorian to fill the void.
Dorian had formed a committee to plan and prepare the joyous occasion and they were having a pretty productive meeting. She glanced around the table at the few volunteers that comprised the committee. Rory and Biddy sat on Dorian’s right. That seemed fitting. The three of them had been friends since they could remember, and Dorian tended to lean on them a great deal. Who could blame her? When her father was stolen by the griffin last summer, Rory and Biddy volunteered without hesitation, and on the adventure they proved themselves to be brave, selfless, and loyal. They sat on her right side as a token of her loyalty to them, that and the fact they were dating. They would have moved to sit by each other anyway. The other members of the committee were Thomas, a wise old veteran of the Magicks War, Elsum the seamstress, and Darby the artist.
“It will be a fine party,” offered Rory. “The itinerary has been set, the bands secured, and we have even reopened our invitation to the Sidhes to join us.”
“Aye, it has been long since we have celebrated with our cousins,” piped in Timothy, one of the elder Leprechauns in Corways. “It was before the war, as I recall.”
“Please, don’t get him reminiscing about the war,” begged Rory in a whisper.
Biddy playfully slugged Rory on the arm. “He’s an old man with old man memories, Rory. There is a lot of wisdom in those memories.”
Thirty minutes and three retellings of the same story later, Timothy relented the group’s attention in favor of Dorian.
“Thank you, Timothy, for sharing your experiences with us. It helps us to understand just how long it’s been since we have reached out like this.”
The queen smiled at Rory and Biddy. Rory held his hands up in a gesture that said “I tried to warn you” and Biddy just rolled her eyes. At the moment, though, Dorian missed Brendan. That achy feeling was with her always since he and his family had returned to America. Maybe she’d go for a visit once the Midsummer Celebration was over, but until then, there was a lot of work to do.
…
It was sunny in the O’Neal’s Kingston neighborhood, but somehow the man watching the O’Neal home was cloaked in shadow. It was a difficult spell, and one that few necromancers could perform.
The boy appeared to be ready to leave, and when that happened the house would become vulnerable. It was only a matter of time, and time was something this shadow master had in abundance.
The dark stranger smiled when the O’Neal family came out onto the street and stood next to the boy’s car.
…
“Well, son,” Oscar began, his eyes glazing over with tears. “Looks like this is it.”
Brendan felt the sting of guilt that hits a young adult who is just about to leave for college. Parents seemed to always make it harder than it needed to be.
“Come on, Dad,” Brendan said, wrapping his dad up in a hug. “You know I’ll be coming home often.”
“Kids always say that, Brendan.” Oscar pulled out of the hug to wipe his eyes with his handkerchief. “Then they just get too busy and live their own lives. I hate to say it, but it happens.”
Brendan smiled at his old man. Did they even sell handkerchiefs anymore? He got a little misty-eyed too, but quickly cleared his throat out of habit.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Oscar pulled another handkerchief out of his other pocket. “Since you are a man now, I’m going to give you what my father gave me when he sent me off to school.”
Brendan took it and touched the initials that were embroidered on the cloth: BJO. “Thanks, Dad.”
“I better go grab the rest of your things. We left them in the kitchen.” Oscar scurried off choking back tears, leaving brother and sister alone on the sidewalk.
…
The dark stranger moved his cloaking shadow closer to the siblings, but only to just within earshot. The boy’s powers were raw, but they were growing. The shadow master could feel the arcane magic radiating from him. Now was not the time to endanger the plan or engage the boy. No, there would be another time for that.
…
“Are you okay?” Lizzie asked her big brother.
Brendan nodded and then shook his head slightly. “I just worry about you and Dad being here alone.”
“We’ll be fine,” she assured him.
“You know what I’m talking about.”
Lizzie nodded knowingly. “They were just dreams, Brendan. That’s all.”
“You know I don’t just dream anymore, at least not dreams in the normal sense.”
Lizzie didn’t say anything. Sometimes he would tell her about the visions he had. Many times they were of far off places and of strange people, magical beings, and odd events. She had seen enough to know not to question Brendan about such things. He had a power that she didn’t, but to be honest about it, she was relieved that it was his burden to bear.
“Look, just keep an eye on that stone box in the upstairs hallway, would ya?” Brendan asked, concern straining his features.
“You think you really had to pinpoint that box with a description for me to know which one you’re talking about? That thing creeps me out. I’ve stayed away from it and don’t plan on changing that anytime soon,” Lizzie said with a determined expression.
“Well, just text or call me if anything weird goes on, and I’ll be here in a flash.” Brendan read his sister’s features and knew that she was frightened. “Syracuse isn’t that far away.”
“I know,” Lizzie replied, softening her expression. “Hey, we’ll be fine. I mean, I can kick some butt, right?”
Brendan smiled. “Even when all you have is a stick.”
“I’ve been working on my skills down at the gym, too,” Lizzie said proudly. “I’ve really been improving.”
“Really?” laughed Brendan.
Lizzie furrowed her brow and crossed her arms. “Well, what have you been doing to improve your skills? Huh? Nothing, that’s what.”
“Come on, Liz,” Brendan replied, his smile quickly fading. “What am I going to practice? I don’t have my sword and I can’t exactly practice these powers just any time, can I?”
“Look, you said it yourself that Morna threatened you about an upcoming war.” She stared sternly into his eyes, stressing her point.
Brendan shook it off. “Those were dying words from an insane witch, Lizzie. It wasn’t some prophecy.”
Lizzie sighed. “We got lucky last year, Brendan. If something is going down, then I want to be prepared.”
“Hey,” he began. “You’re just anxious because I’m leaving. In the unlikely event that something does happen, then I’ll be ready. It’ll all come back to me. I know it will.”
Lizzie held her tongue as Oscar came back down to meet them. One thing she knew was that fortune favored the prepared, and she sure wanted to be in fortune’s favor.
…
The veiled man sneered at the absurd nature of this family. They were getting all weepy over a small absence of the bothersome boy. Thoughts of striking them all down and ending their emotional stupidity crossed his mind, but his master had other plans.
He watched the family embrace once more just before the boy drove away. That stone box the children feared was crucial to his master’s plans. The shadow man would give them good reason to fear it.
…
The sky over Scotland was more foreboding than anyone could remember, and that was saying something, especially when considering recent events. When the residents of the southern parts of Scotland were pressed into conversation about the landscape, weather and such, they would briefly talk about swirling, unnatural clouds pressing down on the land and her people. They would mention the occasional shaking of the ground, fissures that would appear without warning, and large black stones that were forced up from the earth. These were strange times for the Scottish people, with the exception being those who lived near the infamous Black Forest. Those residents might try to convince visitors that the strange happenings were daily occurrences and that black lightning was as natural as spring rain.
Anyway it went, Elathan did not care. The ignorant fools of the world had no idea what was in store for them and their pitiful planet. They all saw it as home. Elathan saw it as an elusive conquest. He had once tried to overtake Earth, but Nuada had interfered and ruined his victory. This time would be different. It was impossible for the past to repeat itself. Humans had ruled the planet for long enough, and now that the Bringer of Death had returned, their day was done.
The footfalls of his loyal servant broke Elathan from his thoughts. He looked up just as Dullahan entered the tower chamber of Elathan’s castle.
“My lord, word from across the ocean has come,” delivered Dullahan, a headless demon and relentless killer.
“And?” replied Elathan from the balcony.
Dullahan removed a scroll of parchment and handed it to his liege. Elathan read the words and looked back to his minion. “The boy that so easily defeated you has abandoned his home.” Elathan paused to observe the shift in his servant’s position. Riling the large murderous minion would only serve him better. “The box is unguarded. Our time has come.”
…
The house seemed a little emptier already, or at least Lizzie perceived it to be after Brendan drove away. She took the stairs two at a time and ended up at the top in no time. The box on the corner table seemed to sit idly, but somehow it called for her attention.
“Stupid box,” she mumbled as she walked towards it. “What about you gives me the creeps?”
She lifted the box and looked at the worn markings that covered it. It was a weird feeling to be holding something so ancient. Who would have owned or constructed something like this? Wait… did the markings change?
“Lizzie!” called Oscar from the bottom of the stairs.
Lizzie turned to her father. “Yeah?”
“Let’s do something fun. I need to spend a little time with you, sweetie. Is that okay?”
Lizzie smiled and set the box back on the table. “Sure, Dad. What do you want to do?” She skipped downstairs and the two of them left the house.
…
The box and the power within had no idea the house was vacant, nor did it care. The box hissed and hummed and the runes on the exterior moved and shifted until the right formations were in place. Steam escaped and formed a cloud that enveloped the hallway. The cloud moved and twisted as an ancient evil was finally free of its prison. She moaned as a deep hunger resonated from her ravenous heart. The presence landed softly on the beige carpet of the O’Neals’ upper hallway.
“Welcome back,” the veiled man said from the landing at the bottom of the stairs.
The Banshee turned her still wispy form towards the speaker. “Ná leomh tú a dúshlán dom?”
The shadow wizard chuckled softly. “No, my dear, I am here to help you.”
Her body finally solidified, leaving nothing to the shadow wizard’s imagination. Her sockets were dark and her eyes were pools of white swimming with golden flecks. Her hair was floating around her daintily, which was in stark contrast to the volatile state that the rest of her body was in. “You speak not in Gaelic.”
“The world has changed, but one thing has not,” he began. “Elathan has risen.”
The Banshee’s face looked down at the wizard with suspicion. “The golden god has returned?”
“Oh, yes.” The shadow wizard removed a dress from the inside pocket of his cloak and tossed it to the Banshee. “And he has plans for us.”