Shadows, Penllyn Chronicles #6 EBOOK

“Verpa dei!” I muttered as a fresh rain of rocks tinkled down the slope. 

Gwen shot a glare at me.

“Our goddess doesn’t have one,” she sent across our mental link. There was a hint of mirth in her tone, despite the serious set to her face. “If you curse with every footfall, the sound of the rocks won’t matter.”

“Cursing helps take the edge off my nerves,” I said. “This far away from the tree line means Seren and Emlyn can’t be our backup.”

We resumed our climb. The slope in this area wasn’t steep, Gwen had said. True, it wasn’t one of the cliff faces that Ruadh and Iolo were always trying to clamber up. This wasn’t, however, an easy walk.

“Are you sure we’re in the right area?” I sent. “This is the steepest and rockiest place on Britannia I’ve seen yet. No wonder Ruadh enjoys climbing if this is his homeland.”

“He comes from farther north,” Gwen replied. “This is closer to the area where I was raised. Although my father’s lands were farther to the south and much more green.”

“Is it rough coming home after so long?” 

“Not any longer,” she sent. “Once my birth family had passed, I could fade away.”

“I took longer to let go,” I sent. “Even though I had a new family in my undead brothers and my master, there were too many people I knew in Rome. Too many of my father’s compatriots. They knew of me, and when he passed, they stepped in to make sure I had a father figure in my life. Several hundred.”

“That was my case, too,” Gwen sent. We continued our climb. “A dozen retainers from my father’s lands looking after me interfered with my service to The Lady. That’s why I focused on my identity as a member of the convent. I asked the abbess to assign me elsewhere, out of their reach.”

“You weren’t the abbess?” I asked. “With your former station…”

“Arthur’s death had far-reaching repercussions,” Gwen sent. “I was far better off staying out of the political levels from then on.”

“And Arthur’s retainers?”

“Happy to see me move on while they fought their wars.” Gwen dislodged some rocks. They bounced and clattered past me. 

All of that made sense. Letting go of the old was the toughest thing I had faced in my undead life. Every time generations of those I loved died off, I had to move on. Once they aged, I couldn’t return to visit. My everlasting youthful appearance would raise concerns. 

“This melancholy isn’t serving either of us well,” I sent. “Seren hasn’t figured out how to make that spell undetectable, has she?” More stones from our steps bounced down the hillside.

“The one to silence noise? Not yet,” Gwen sent. “I had Iolo search an area with his fae senses. He was quick to find Seren sneaking up on him. She even wore Arthur’s cloak to hide herself from his sight. The ripple that the spell creates is too much like a wrinkle the shifters leave. Only more noticeable.”

“Did he sense the cloak instead of the spell?”

“No,” she replied. “We tried both with and without the silent spell. He couldn’t detect her when she used just the cloak. Add a spell to silence sound, and the spell ripple gave her away.”

“She is the best one to have the cloak,” I sent. “Emlyn said whatever creature is inside Dunstan’s corpse, it fought just as well as he and I. If I wore it, the cloak would risk getting sliced by those…” I paused. We still didn’t know what to call the monsters that Dunstan and Baldwin’s dead bodies had become.

“Other than Father Adda, who saw her in that cave,” Gwen said as she crested the ridge, “no other witch hunter knows of her relationship to the goddess.”

“I don’t wish whatever those two… creatures… would do to him on anyone other than Lecerf,” I sent and stepped next to her. Before us, the ridge line continued on for another league. It climbed then, and the flattened path we stood on branched off around its side about a third of the way along. 

“Lecerf met the fate he deserved, dearest. You saw to that.” She pointed along the ridge. “The caves I sense are about halfway along.”

We stayed cautious as we neared the cave opening. To our right, the slope steepened and became a cliff. The path before us narrowed, so we could only take two steps from the wall rising along our left to the drop-off at the right. This wasn’t a place I wanted a fight. Especially not against those possessed corpses.

The jagged opening in the wall wasn’t a man-made fissure. I had Soul in hand as I peered into the rocky slit. We were near evening, and I needed to let my eyes adjust to the dim confines.

“Dear ones,” Gwen sent, sharing her vision. I kept my eyes towards the cave. I needed my night sight, however, a shared vision would not change how my eyes adjusted. 

“Mortar?” Seren replied as she saw the same powdered granular edge to several of the dislodged chunks of rock. “It appears to not be normal… is there a sense of magic to it?”

“Yes, and more,” Gwen replied. She rotated the piece of stone and activated her connection to The Lady. The small touch of her magic made the stone flare to life. A familiar sign showed up. Similar to one I had helped Seren draw on the walls and doors of Caer Penllyn. We only had a fragment of a larger piece.

“The symbols are familiar, yet different,” Seren sent. “And some make no sense.”

“They are fae. We can ask Iolo. A word of caution, though.” Gwen paused. “Drawing the full copy of the complete symbol may not be wise. I’ll search for other fragments while there is still light. If you sketch it for him, keep each element separate.”

Gwen picked through the rubble. I sent my magical senses dancing through its twists and turns. 

“Oh,” Seren sent. “That piece should fit between the other two.” 

Gwen arranged the three fragments next to each other. We now had about a quarter of a circle. The outer edge was a series of Celtic symbols etched into the stone. No tool marks were visible. The familiar symbols Seren and I had drawn showed in a repeated pattern between two curves. The pattern would continue around in a circle as large as my head. 

“What is inside the circle?” Seren asked. “Any other fragments?”

“No more that I can find,” Gwen added. “If we have time, we’ll search more after we search the tombs.”

“You’re sure it’s a tomb?” I asked. We all knew the answer.

I pulled energy from the goddess and lit both Soul and the blade I still carried from the year before. The blade of Osmund, son of Tata, glowed with the same reddish hue I sent into Soul.

“That always reminds me of blood,” Seren added, still sharing Gwen’s vision.

“Red doesn’t destroy my night vision,” I sent. Gwen had a reddish ball of light hanging above her shoulder. 

“But will it harm one of those creatures?” Seren sounded unsure, though the red colour had been her idea. 

“It should,” Gwen added. “The power still comes from The Lady.”

“If Dunstan or Baldwin are inside, I’ll find out,” I added. “Now let me explore.”

The winding passage looked like so many others Gwen and I had explored over the past year. Natural fissures widened where needed to allow human passage. Wherever there was a crack or gap in the rock, it was enlarged enough for a clay urn. Each time we came to one, Gwen sent her magical senses in, probing the contents. 

“Nothing,” she sent. That meant no magic inside. Nothing she could detect, anyway. No undead skeleton ready to animate and attack, and no cloud of black shadowy death waiting for us. We hoped.

I led the way, farther and farther through the twist. Another half dozen niches contained a score of urns. We paused by each until Gwen pronounced them clear.

Finally, the passage widened enough for me to swing a sword if needed. That meant a larger chamber ahead. I was correct. Gwen stepped into a small cavern. I stayed at the entrance, surveying the layout. Seven or eight paces deep and four or five paces wide. Niches lined the walls. Here, they contained piles of bones. Broken crockery lay about. Something had destroyed every urn in the tombs. 

“There is a sense of something about this place,” Gwen sent. “Something odd…” 

I stepped in and centred myself in the cavern, blades in hand. She was the brains of our team. I was the protection. The champion of the goddess, here to protect Gwen. Together, with Seren, we protected Britain.

Gwen stepped towards the first niche.

“Dearest!” 

 A cacophony of rattles sounded around us. Ancient bones collided, stacked, and reformed. Figures lurched forward, bony hands outstretched towards us.

I used Soul to cleave a head from one. I thrust the sword of Osmund between the ribs of another and pushed the light of the goddess into the blade. A twist of the bright red sword, and it collapsed into a heap of dry bones. Another score of the undead clattered together. merda! This was a first. We’d expected to find two walking corpses with extreme fighting skills. Instead, we had a horde of skeletons fighting like they did at the abbey. Slow and lumbering. Unskilled.

“Sense anything unusual?” I asked as I spun through the gathering crowd. Gwen had backed against a wall. Two more light balls, these white, zoomed overhead. My swords scored hit after hit, and faded tan skulls went flying with each hit. 

“Something different…” Gwen sent.

“A residual spell, perhaps?” Seren asked.

“Perhaps…”

The hairs on the back of my neck was stiff. A handful of skeletons remained, and I danced my blades into them.

Glowing red eyes lunged at me as the skull parted from the aged spine of the last standing skeleton.