“I’m coming!” I called to him. “I’m coming,” I whispered, reassuring myself.
I walked into the dark cave. It had been damaged by the earthquake. Many of the skulls had fallen out of the wall and lay tumbled on the floor. I stepped on a leg bone that shattered under my foot, turning to dust. I coughed heavily when the heavy powder assailed my nose.
“My wife! Where are you?” I heard Banquo call.
“In a cave. I’m coming,” I shouted back.
At the end of the hall, I saw a flicker of orange firelight.
“Banquo? Is that you?”
“Cerridwen?” he yelled. At the end of the hall where the catacomb met the cave, only one small blue fire burned. The doors to the Lord of the Hollow Hills throne room were open. The torchlight I had seen must have come from inside.
I moved carefully around the fallen stones and bones into the cave room. The sound of dripping water still filled the place. I cursed myself for not bringing a torch. Only one of the blue fires still burned leaving much of the place in shadow. The place felt wet and had the heavy scent of mud and algae mingled with a tangy smell of lime.
“Banquo?” I whispered as I scanned the tunnels. I saw torchlight flicker inside one of the tunnels at the far end of the cave room.
I moved toward it, but nearly stumbled on something. I looked down to see a skeleton lying at my feet. And then, as I scanned the room. Skeletons were lying everywhere. Then, I heard whispers. Someone or something was inside the cave.
“Cerridwen!” Banquo called, and this time I could feel he was close. I could see his torchlight moving along the walls of the tunnel. I stepped around a skeleton and headed toward him. I could clearly make out the firelight bouncing off the cave wall, coming in my direction.
“Banquo,” I whispered and moved quickly, but suddenly, someone grabbed my arm.
I looked behind me. My heart skipped a beat. The skeleton from outside the priest’s hall held me. His boney fingers dug into my flesh. He tilted his head then leaned in closer to me. Terrified, I couldn’t move or breathe. The skeleton reached out his other hand and grabbed for my throat.
“Cerridwen!” I heard Banquo scream in terror.
I turned my head away to see Banquo standing at the entrance of one of the tunnels. A look of fear washed over him. The skeleton grabbed me by the back of the neck. Its boney fingers choked the air from me. I couldn’t breathe.
“Cerridwen!” Banquo cried, and a second later, I heard a loud crack.
Forcing my head around, I saw the silhouette of Andraste. The sound I’d heard was her tall staff slamming hard against the floor.
“Go!” Andraste yelled at Banquo, her voice echoing powerfully throughout the cave. With a wave of her hand, black smoke enveloped the tunnel where Banquo stood, snuffing out his torch.
“No,” Banquo shouted. His light faded.
“Banquo,” I choked out, reaching for him, but he was gone.
“How now you secret, black, and midnight fiend?” Andraste growled at the skeleton. “Sleep, you stubborn fool,” she added and then, tracing her finger in the air, she drew a strange rune. Blue light followed her finger. “Sleep,” she commanded again.
The skeleton’s hand loosened its grip, and the bones crashed to the ground with a strange hollow-sounding chime.
I coughed loudly the moment the bony fingers left my throat. “Banquo,” I cried again and rushed to the tunnel where I’d seen him. The black smoke was gone and so was Banquo.
“I told you not to wander,” Andraste said.
“Where did he go?” I demanded.
“Home, I’d guess. Talented, your druid. No one has found this place in hundreds of years. But then again, he knows the shadowlands. Light,” Andraste called then traced another rune in the darkness. Once again, blue light followed her finger. “Light,” she called again after the shape was made.
At once, the cave sprang to life. Blue fires lit the square sconces all around the circular space. I finally saw the room clearly. It was filled with skeletons. And the man from my dream, the Lord of the Hollow Hills, still sat on his throne. His body had decayed to nothing more than bones, tatters of cloth hanging from his frame.
Andraste bowed to him then turned to me. “Come, girl,” she said, beckoning me to her. “Give me your hand.”
I did as she told me.
“Raise only your index finger,” she told me. Then, taking my finger, she traced a rune with my finger on the palm of her hand again and again. “Now,” Andraste said, letting go of me, “point your finger to the heavens.”
I did as she directed.
“Select one,” she said, motioning to the skeletons lying on the floor. “But not him. Stubborn fool. You are dead,” she said, referring to the skeleton from the priest’s temple. “And not him,” she added, motioning to the Lord of the Hollow Hills.
“That one,” I said, eyeing a skeleton that lay at the feet of the dead lord.
“Of course you would select her,” Andraste said, then laughed. “Point to the heavens. Tell her, ‘wake.’ Make the rune then command her ‘wake’ again.”
I knew what Andraste was teaching me…wizardry…necromancy. My body shook. I lifted my finger to the heavens, and this time, I felt power rush into my fingertip. It was like a bolt of lightning was racing into my finger and through my body. I shivered. “Wake,” I told the skeleton. I made the rune in the air. The same blue glow followed my finger. “Wake,” I said again.
The skeleton rose.
Andraste grinned as she took in the scene.
The skeleton’s bones clattered as she shifted. Dust swirled around her. She took two steps toward me. Then the undead thing reached out for my hand. I was struck by the memory of my dream.
“Now what?” I asked Andraste.
“Now she is yours to command. She will do anything you ask.”
I stared at the skeleton. Its dark eyes looked expectantly at me, its hand still outstretched. I shuddered. “I want it to go back to sleep.”
Andraste took my hand. Again, she drew a rune in her palm over and over again. “Speak the word. Make the rune. Speak the word again then release the power back into the ground by pointing your finger downward.”
“Sleep,” I told the skeleton. Then I made the rune Andraste had showed me. “Sleep,” I said again, then pointed my finger down.
The skeleton fell to the ground with a rattling crash. She lay before me, inanimate, though her arm lay outstretched, still reaching for my hand.
Chapter 27
I spent the next several days working with Andraste, who taught me more of the mysteries of the Dark Goddess. One of the most important subjects Andraste taught me was history.
“This place is just one of many of the islands that exist in the otherworld. Surely you have heard the names of Atlantis, Lyonesse, Hy Brasil, and even Avalon.”
It was then that Nimue, who had been sewing a hole in her cloak, looked up. She stared into the distance; her gaze was far away.
“You were a priestess of Avalon,” I stated more than asked.
Nimue turned and looked at me. Her eyes were watery. “Yes,” she whispered then went back to her sewing. She said nothing else. One day, I would be like her, forever mourning a life I’d missed hundreds of years ago. By the time I understood the Dark Goddess’ magic well enough to master it, Banquo would be long dead. And it was clear now, neither Andraste, nor the island, would let him come to me here. But then again, if what Andraste was saying about the other islands was true, then maybe there was still hope…still, a chance.