— 29 -
June 1626, Ireland
Akil Karanis turned before reaching Belfast and took the western path along Lough Neah, he then headed west once more toward the Sperrin Mountains. His quest for answers had taken him many places. Of all those, where he was heading was the destination he feared most. It also may be the most important. The seer who’d foretold of the Anointed One so many generations ago had a specific message, which over time had been distorted. Akil was bent upon unraveling the vagaries so he could find this person himself.
He traveled on horseback along a narrow road that hadn’t seen use in decades. The rain fell hard and heavy despite sunshine in the distance. As the terrain turned up and the rolling hills along the road grew steeper, Akil stopped and dismounted his horse. To his right was a gap in the cliffs not much wider than his shoulders. He felt a compulsion to enter, yet he also wanted to reach his destination, Sawel Mountain, by sundown. Despite his haste, he tethered his horse to a small shrub and stepped into the gap.
The instant he set foot inside, the rain ceased. The path turned a sharp corner revealing a perfectly hewn set of stairs. The stairs twisted left and right with no discernable rhyme or reason until they reached their terminus. A natural archway opened onto a plateau that overlooked the green countryside to his left. Directly across were sheer cliffs that rose another hundred feet. The wind was strong. As Akil steadied himself for fear of being blown over the edge, he heard a sound in the wind. It had a musical quality like chimes in a breeze. He searched for the source of the sound but saw nothing.
Akil had a sudden compulsion to sit. Having not stopped moving since the day before last, he was weary. He deserved a break, he thought, and so he sat, resting his back against the stone arch, hoping it would shield the wind. The chime-like music continued. His mind, always thinking of his next step, his next destination, went idle, taking in the beauty of the music. Thinking of no better occasion to light his pipe, Akil reached into his pocket and fished it out along with some tobacco he’d managed to procure from the last civilized village on his route.
He sat and enjoyed the music, which grew less chimelike and more voice-like as time passed. Despite the raging wind, Akil felt warm as he puffed on his pipe and studied the striations in the stone archway above his head. It was when his vision started to blur that a warning sounded in the recesses of his mind. He was tired and would have liked little less than to take a nap right there, but the nagging warning poked at his brain. His eyelids grew heavy. It took all of his strength to fight off the sleep that was trying to take him.
The warning inside sounded again, louder this time, and Akil stirred from his stupor. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. A woman stood no more than two armlengths away. He wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there watching him. Akil quickly got to his feet. The woman was stunningly beautiful. Akil felt an overwhelming compulsion to touch her. He had to feel her dark hair in his fingers. The smooth skin on her face, to feel her lips against his. Again the warning sounded.
Akil shook his head once more. The woman stepped toward him. Akil stepped back. He felt drawn to her like he’d never felt drawn to a woman before. Yet somewhere within his desire there was a sense of caution. He stepped back, again passing through the protection of the archway and onto the windy plateau. It didn’t feel right. He knew this and still his internal struggle to keep himself from running to her, pulling her close, kissing her, raged on.
With each step forward she took, Akil stepped back. His clothes rippled in the wind as he and the mysterious woman continued their dance atop the mountain. Akil shivered from the cold. He wondered how this woman could possibly stay warm dressed as she was in nothing more than her intimates. He began to take off his traveling cloak so he could offer it to her when he stopped. The raging wind appeared to be missing her completely. She stood there staring into his eyes, and her hair hung perfectly straight at her shoulders while his cloak blew out like a kite behind him.
Suddenly, she wasn’t so beautiful. Her face grew older before his eyes. Her skin grew dark and scaled. The music she had been singing became a shriek of anger. Akil’s hands went to his ears immediately. What was left of his clouded mind cleared, and for the first time he knew he had reached his destination. He had found the Siren.
Akil quickly recited an incantation that blocked all sound except speech from reaching his ears. The siren’s expression turned fouler as she moved closer to him.
“You are not like the others,” she said.
“I should hope not. I intend to leave with what I have come for.”
“So do all men. And all of them fall under my spell and do my will until I destroy them.”
“I am not under your spell, dear Siren, and have no intention of doing your bidding. I am however willing to go peacefully if you give me what I seek.”
Akil’s words were far braver than he felt. He’d studied the legend of the Sirens. He cursed himself for allowing her to surprise him as she had.
“And what is it you’ve come for, Akil Karanis?”
“I want the lineage of the Anointed One spoken by the Seer. It was written in the book,” said Akil “the bloodline of the Anointed One.”
“And what makes you think I have the book?”
“I have followed its path for many years and many miles and evidence of its existence stopped with you.”
“Most men come because I have called them. Few come for my treasure. None have come for the book. You are indeed different than the others, Akil Karanis.”
“Give it to me, and I shall go in peace and leave you to your foul deeds.”
“No man can defeat me. Not even one so unique as you. I shall make you an offer. Turn, walk back the way you came, and never return. Do this and you shall live. Do it not, and you will serve me until your death.”
Not bothering to reply, Akil sent a massive blast of energy at the Siren. She flew up into the air, her body spinning like a top. The wind immediately ceased. The roughly hewn cliffs that lined the far side of the plateau transformed into a beautiful castle carved into the marble. With one strike, the Siren’s powers of illusion were shattered. She landed nimbly just short of the edge.
“You are powerful, Akil Karanis, but your arrogance will be your undoing,” said the Siren.
Despite her distance, Akil heard her voice as if she were standing next to him. He did not wait for her counterattack. Akil raised his arms. Several large boulders rose from the ground and flew toward her. She did not flinch or try a defensive incantation. She simply continued walking toward him. The stones crashed into her with destructive force. The impact sounded like thunder. Bits of stone and dust flew into the air, engulfing her in the rubble.
Akil lifted slabs of stone straight out of the ground, encircling the Siren and surrounding the rubble pile with a curtain of rock. He then sent a fireball into the air. It came down like a wave and crashed into the center of his stone cage and began to swirl until the entire area within his newly constructed walls was engulfed in flame.
Satisfied that the Siren was either dead or seriously injured, Akil made his way to the castle entrance. The steps leading up to the main doors were cut from a deep red marble that contrasted with the walls of the castle, which were a mottled white. This creature had an impressive gift with stonework, he thought as he inspected the entry.