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WHEN LORCANN LEFT THE Woodlands, he made his way south away from Lord-Regent Marath. Away from the kingdom of Elves. Away from the realm of the Fae. He had sent a silent command to his Fomorians to do as they willed. He had been delighted when he discovered they had destroyed most of the Heartlands and the Hin’dar Rhule.
It would send the right message to that stupid King Urdithane. He would understand at last that they were not to be trifled with. Nearly killing an entire race of Elves should be warning enough, but his blundering idiots hadn’t killed them all. Some survived. They would have to be dealt with in time.
At least that fool, Marath, was dead. Disappearing and leaving his fate in the hands of his enemies was the best decision Lorcann had made. He had tried to control him. What a mistake that was. He had watched from the shadows as Lord Eldrin shot an arrow through the man’s skull, killing him. Pleasure swarmed through him at the memory of watching Marath plunge from the rope bridge to the ground below. It had been a sweet victory.
Things were not over with the Wood Elves. And now the Fire Elves. He sent a silent message to his Fomorians to stand down until he was ready to attack. Until he had help from the underworld.
Cormac was the most powerful Fomorian mage. It had been a great loss when the Goddess of War killed him in the underworld. But what no one seemed to know was that his spirit still roamed free. Lorcann intended to resurrect the man and bring him back to the land of the living. It would not be easy, either. He would have to travel to the underworld and then find him.
He had never performed such a feat before but he knew he could do it. He had confidence he could bring back Cormac.
Lorcann found the caves he was looking for in the southernmost part of the realm. The violent surf crashed against the rocky outcropping that hid the caves but he knew this was the place he needed to be. This was the place where he would be able to travel to the underworld and return with Cormac, alive and in the flesh.
He stood on the edge of the cliff and looked out across the frothing waves. Overhead, the sky darkened from pink to indigo back to pink again. The sun was setting on the western horizon and the waves reflected silvery against the shimmery light.
Taking a deep breath, Lorcann wound his way down the path toward the rocky shoreline. By the time he’d made it to the caves, the setting sun bounced off the water and turned everything a golden color. But he turned a blind eye to the beauty of it all and entered the dark, dank cave.
It smelled of the sea, rotting fish and fecal matter from nearby creatures. It was a disgusting place but then, the entrance to the underworld would hardly smell of roses or perfume.
He held his hand out, palm up and a fireball formed, tossing out light to guide his way. Not many knew of the existence of these caves or if they did, they didn’t realize they led to the underworld. Only a few knew—Lorcann being one of them. It was not far from the Sorrow Lands where he and his people had been imprisoned for thousands of years.
Lorcann made his way deeper into the cave, winding along the sharp downward path. His ankles and calves burned with the pain of trying to maintain his footing without slipping. The farther he went, the damper it got. The colder it got. The smell seemed to die as well. Mayhap most of the creatures that inhabited the cavern stayed close to the opening and didn’t venture deep into the bowels. They were wise not to. It was a dangerous place.
The path leveled out and he knew he was closer to the bottom. Not quite where he needed to be but getting there. He walked for what seemed like hours, holding the fiery ball of flame in the palm of his hand the entire way. The light flickered on the walls. It had become so dark inside the cavern he could hardly see even with the flame.
At last, he came to a crossroads. One path led off to the right while the other steered to the left. Turning left, he headed downward again, following it farther into the dark. The air thinned down here and his flame snuffed out on a strange breeze. A breeze that should not be here in the darkest depths.
He halted and strained his ears to listen. Silence deafened him. And then there was a warm puff of air on his cheek.
“Why have you come, Fomorian?”
The words were a whisper on the lips of a female. The demon who guarded these walls.
“You know.” He didn’t need to tell her what he intended to do. Likely she already knew why he was there. She knew he would have come for Cormac.
“Your mage is dead, you know.”
She fluttered around him, her heated breath on his face. Her body brushing against his. He knew she was a hideous thing. That she likely had horns protruding from her head. Her tongue was forked. Her skin scaly.
“Keep your distance, demon,” he warned.
She laughed a deep guttural laugh that echoed through the empty darkness. “I promise not to hurt you...much.”
Her sharp, long nails scraped across his chest. He clamped down on her wrist and pushed her away. “I’m not here to play with you.”
“Pity.” She moved behind him. He could feel her heat warming over his back. Her breath trickled over his ear. “Why should I let you in?”
“I’ve come for Cormac. His body may be gone but his spirit is not,” Lorcann said. “You know this as well as I.”
“Indeed.” Again that guttural chuckle rumbling her throat. She slipped her hands over his shoulders. “It has been far too long since I’ve had anyone to play with. Why won’t you let me play with you?”
“I could kill you here. Now.”
“But you won’t,” she taunted. “You need me to open the gate. You need me to let you inside. You need me to lead you into the underworld. Quite simply, my Fomorian friend, you need me.”
Her hands were on him. Roaming. Touching. Petting. She cupped his crotch and squeezed. She was right. He did need her to open the gate but he could find his own way into the underworld without her. He didn’t need her help to find Cormac.
The demon’s scaly hand slipped beneath his pants. Her long fingers wrapped around his cock—his already hardened cock. She had managed to make it come to attention with her touches. Damn her. She would have her way with him whether he wanted her to or not. She would take what she wanted. But when she was done, he would take from her.
“Mmm. Nice and thick. Nice and hard. All for me?”
“I will give you want you want,” he said, “if you will open the gate for me in return.”
She purred. “It would be my pleasure.”
Then she slithered around him, dropped to her knees and pushed down his pants. Her mouth closed on his cock, sucking him into her hot mouth to the back of her throat. At that point, it had become too difficult to control his reactions. Her mouth did all the work and his body responded.
When he finished, she rose to her full height. She stood nose to nose to him, her eyes red as she licked her lips.
“You are tasty.”
“Open the gate.”
“And demanding. I like that about you.”
“Open the damn gate!”
“Patience.” She licked his cheek with her forked tongue, leaving a sizzling path in her wake.
As soon as they were through the gate, he would kill her.
She turned, moving away from him. He could hear her movements. Her shuffling. And then the gate opened. Light exploded into the confines of the cavern. He could see her for the first time.
The demon was revolting, as he had pictured. He was right about one thing—her skin was covered in scales. Green ones. A long tail snaked out behind her. Her hands were long, slender ending in blood-red claws. Her tongue was indeed forked. Once she might have had delicate features but now her teeth were nothing more than sharp points and her face covered in the same green scales. She had two horns protruding from her forehead. They looked like nothing more than stumps.
“By your command, Fomorian.”
She motioned for him to follow her. Through the gate they went and then it shut immediately behind him, closing off the damp darkness. He stood in the garish light of the cavern, surveying his surroundings. He could feel Cormac’s spirit and knew which way he had to go.
The demon wound her arms around his neck from behind, then licked his ear. A sensual purr reverberated through her.
“I let you through the gate. Now I need payment.”
“Payment?”
“Mmm.” Again she purred against him.
“I’ll give you payment.”
He spun out of her arms and clamped a hand around her throat. With his free hand, he retrieved that dagger and stabbed her once, twice, three times in the gut. Her eyes bulged. He released her, watched as she stumbled backward, her hands covering the holes in her stomach. Blood seeped through her fingers.
“You will pay.” Her breath came out in a deep hiss.
“We’ll see about that.”
He lunged, plunged the knife into her throat and watched as the life ebbed from her. She gurgled her last breath. A satisfied grin crossed his lips as he turned toward hope.
* * *
IT HAD TAKEN SEVERAL hours to walk through the underground. To find Cormac’s wandering spirit. The man sat on an outcropping of rock, his elbows propped on his knees. His head hung low with his chin touching his chest.
He was not a corporal being. Not yet. He was merely a presence. But Lorcann could see him.
“Cormac.”
He lifted his head, his gaze meeting Lorcann’s. There was no life left in his eyes.
“Lorcann.” Hearing his name on his lips gave the mage hope. “What are you doing here? How did you get here?”
“I walked.” Lorcann approached slowly. “I came for you. To resurrect you.”
Cormac laughed, a bitter laugh. “You can’t. The Goddess of War killed me.”
“Aye I know. But your spirit still lives. You can be free. Free to walk the land again.”
Cormac stared at Lorcann long and hard before he put his feet on the ground and rose to his full height. “You cannot reverse something the goddess has done. You are not that powerful.”
“No,” Lorcann agreed. “But you are.”
Cormac blinked surprise. “But I am not...of the living.”
“You will be.”
“How?”
“Come with me. We will find you a body and you will live once again.”
“You know how to leave the underworld? Only a few can do that.”
“Give me your hand,” Lorcann said. “Come with me, my old friend.”
He could see the hesitation in Cormac’s face. He knew he didn’t believe him. Knew it was a leap of faith for him to accept the truth.
“For what purpose?” Cormac asked. “I will not be an agent of evil again.”
“We need someone to lead us. Our people are free, Cormac.” When the mage refused to take his hand, Lorcann dropped his arm. “A Dark Elf released the rest of us from our bonds.”
“What does that mean to me?” Cormac folded his arms across his chest.
“It means you can exact revenge on all those who forced you to do their bidding. You can rule our people once again. You can lead us into war. We can gain control of the Otherworld once and for all. And there is magic in the Hin’dar Rhule. Magic we can harness as our own.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I wish only to be left alone. I have no desire for more fighting. The ones who forced me to work for them are both dead. The Goddess of War and Lord Kieran.” He sat once again on the rock. “I will not go back to that. What do I care about magic?”
Lorcann’s eyes narrowed. He peered out of slits at the mage. “It pains me to do this. If you will not come willingly, I will have to take you by force.”
Before he could react, Lorcann charged. As his hand landed on Cormac, he invoked the spell to take his spirit into his own body. It would be temporary until he could find someone suitable to take on his spirit. Cormac saw him coming and tried to move out of the way but he wasn’t quick enough. Lorcann sucked the spirit into him.
He fell to his knees. Cormac was not a willing participant and banged against his skull, calling him vile names. As soon as Lorcann found a body for him, he would bind Cormac to him, making him docile. Forcing him to do this bidding. The man said he would not be a party to evil again. But Lorcann needed him. And soon Cormac would know that too.
Lorcann trudged back through the underworld to the cavern gate.
* * *
IT WAS DAWN WHEN LORCANN stepped out of the cavern and onto the rocky shore. Cormac still banged against his skull, shouting curses. It made Lorcann weary. His mind was fatigued. His body just as tired. But he knew he had to keep going. He wended his way back up to the cliff. Exhausted, he fell to the ground, staring up at the morning sky turning from a deep indigo to pink.
He could not keep Cormac inside him for much longer. The mage was stronger than he had accounted for. His powers were strengthening. Lorcann could tell he was feeding off him and he had to get him out as soon as possible.
He called upon one of his men, Balor, to come to him. He would transfer Cormac’s spirit into his man’s body. Balor was a weaker mage. He would be able to handle Cormac’s power. He would be easier to control.
Balor answered the call immediately, flashing to his location. He knelt by his side.
“Lorcann, what’s happened?”
“I’ve...retrieved Cormac.”
Balor glanced around. “Where is he?”
He grabbed his friend by the tunic and dragged him close, his lips against his ear. “His spirit. Inside...me.”
Horror flashed over Balor’s face before he managed to regain his composure. “You took his spirit inside you? How?”
Cormac exploded against his skull again, the pain bursting through Lorcann’s mind. He pressed his palms against his temples and gritted his teeth. The bastard would never stop. He had to get him out of his head. He had to convince Balor to take Cormac’s spirit into his body. For the good of their people.
Lorcann shook his head. “No time.”
“What can I do?”
There. Balor made it all too easy. “Take him.”
He blinked confusion before dawning overcame his features. “Take him? From you into me?”
Lorcann nodded. Cormac was draining his strength with every passing moment. He didn’t know how much longer he would be able to hold out.
“Get...the others. Daroch and Phelan. They’ll help.”
And he knew they could flash there. Balor rose to his full height, his arms by his side and his hands fisted. Through his haze, Lorcann could hear Balor calling to the others. A flash. Two. And the men stood in the semi-circle around them.
Through the noise in his head, he could hear the three men arguing about something. He couldn’t quite make out the words. All he knew was their voices were angry.
“Enough!” Balor said, his voice sharp enough to cut through Lorcann’s haze. “I’m doing this. Will you help me? Will you help us?”
There was a pause before Daroch replied. “I will.”
“Daroch, you fool. We don’t know what removing the spirit will do to Lorcann.” Phelan. His voice angry.
“We have to try.” Daroch’s quiet voice filtered through Lorcann’s mind over the din of Cormac.
Lorcann reached for Phelan, his hand landing on his dusty boot. “Aye...try.”
Phelan’s gaze dropped to his. Lorcann could see the indecision and then the acceptance. He gave a quick nod.
“Aye then. Let’s do it.”
Balor dropped to his knees again and placed the pads of his forefingers on Lorcann’s temples, applying a slight pressure. Phelan and Daroch stood on either side of Lorcann with their arms spread wide, palms open and upward to the sky. They each chanted the ancient words that had not been spoken in eons. Words they still knew from their time when they walked the realm before they had been exiled to the Sorrow Lands. It seemed not so long ago. Time had stood still for them.
Cormac quieted in Lorcann’s mind. He couldn’t hear him anymore. He had stopped banging against his skull and shouting. It was almost as though the chanting soothed him.
Mayhap it did.
As the men chanted louder and louder, Lorcann could feel the presence ebb from him. It moved quickly from his body into Balor’s. And then Cormac was no longer part of him.
Balor screamed and reared back. He landed on the ground with a thud, his hands on his skull. Lorcann sat up quickly. Pinpricks of light danced in his eyes as blood surged to this head. He doubled over, groaned, and pinched the skin at his temples to stave off the dizziness and weakness. When he regained his composure, he scrambled to Balor’s side. The man’s eyes were pinched shut, his mouth curled back in a snarl. He rolled from side to side, as though in terrible pain.
Phelan growled his contempt. Daroch tried to get control of Balor but he kicked him, rolled away and pushed to all fours.
“I knew this was a mistake,” Phelan said.
“He’s all right. He’s taking in the spirit. He will be fine,” Lorcann assured. But he couldn’t ignore how drained his body was. It had to be from losing the spirit of Cormac and transferring it to another host.
Balor stilled. He took in several deep breaths before he sat back on his heels, his chest heaving. Sweat dotted his brow and upper lip. His eyes were clouded over and he blinked, as if trying to see clearer. After several moments, they returned to the shade of blue they once were and then colored with an inkiness that set in, changing them to black orbs. So black, the pupils were lost in the pools.
Daroch scooted closer to him. “Balor?”
Balor reacted with violence. He reached out, clamped a hand around Daroch’s throat. Daroch gasped, trying to suck in air.
“Release him,” Lorcann demanded.
“No. He will die.” Balor’s voice was different. Deeper. Darker. More authoritative than ever before. It did not sound like the man they once knew. Rather, he sounded like someone else.
Lorcann knew the transfer had worked and was complete.
“Daroch is of your kind. We are of your kind. We are Fomorians. We’re here to help you.”
Balor snarled. “No one can help me.”
“I did. I brought you back from the underworld. I have given you renewed life.”
His fingers slowly relaxed their grip on Daroch’s throat. When he dropped his hand, the man fell forward, gasping in air and coughing.
“Why?”
“Because you can lead us.” Lorcann and the others bowed their head out of respect.
“The transfer is complete,” Lorcann said. “Welcome to the land of the living once again, Balor.”
“How do you know? How can you tell?” Phelan glanced between the two of them.
Balor turned his head to meet his gaze. “From now on you will call me Cormac.”
“Cormac,” Lorcann corrected. “You were once a powerful mage. You will be again.”
“I was imprisoned in the Sorrow Lands before being released by Lord Kieran.”
“Aye,” Lorcann nodded. “And then Morrigan, Goddess of War, released more of us. And still more were freed by Lord Marath. Now we are going to conquer the lands and become the most powerful in all the Otherworld. We have already begun with our march through the Heartlands and the Hin’dar Rhule. We have much left to do.”
Cormac’s gaze focused first on Daroch, then Phelan and finally rested on Lorcann. There was a darkness there that wasn’t there before. And Lorcann knew the eyes staring back at him were Cormac’s. He pushed to his feet.
“Good. Now tell me. Where are our people?”