A Path of Oak and Ash (32 page)

47

The massive complex built on the right shore of the island struck Carrick as something out of a spy movie.  Jutting several stories into the air the steel and concrete building blocked out a wonderful view of the sunset against the ocean.  A night attack had been planned to aid in stealth, yet it was partially a bad call.  The complex was well lit, track, spot and motion lights kept the immediate area at a constant state of high noon and drew attention to the marketing slogans on large canvas banners hanging from the second story balcony. In the light blue and grey colors associated with Stergen Industries messages carried the same theme; 'Our Future, Today.' and 'A better tomorrow, one innovation at a time' innocent, positive and pop up ad worthy.  Unfortunately for the intended audience, the 'our' in the corporate vision did not indicate humans.  Not that there were any around to appreciate the message.

All of the patrols and workers spotted thus far had been fell.  Even at a distance their tell-tale posture and almost demonic strut was evident.  Shrieks and animalistic screeches entwined in their conversations carried on the wind, making Carrick's blood run cold.  He knew every single one of them would not hesitate to take his life in an instant.  Deep down part of him wished what lurked within that building
was
a super villain and his gun toting minions.  In a way, that seemed far less scary than what lay ahead.

"I have never seen so many in one location."  Erik murmured quietly, his ring covered left hand splayed against the cold wet rock to keep his balance.  Carrick felt assured that their current position was concealed as they crouched at the water's edge, large rocks in front of them blocking the moon's light.

A splash in the water, a second.  Fish, the guards would think.  Only fish.  "Can't turn back now, Conall's got the first set of charges laid."  Carrick murmured.

"I heard."  Erik turned to Aodhan.  "Ready?"

Aodhan nodded enthusiastically, pulling a series of small stones carved with runes from a pouch on his belt.  Erik did likewise.  Together they laid them in a pattern, drawing symbols around them in the sand.  His uncle tossed what appeared to be finger bones atop the intricate pattern, chanting.

Carrick knew he needed to move.  His missive was to get inside and deal with Lorcan while they provided the distraction on the beachfront.  As much as he wanted to see their golems take form, he quietly moved away from their hiding place in the rocks, making his way towards the massive complex. 

Pallets of building materials and other goods were left out by the loading dock.  Carrick hid behind a stack of cardboard boxes from a company that produced disposable utensils and paper products. 
Suppose the bad guys have to eat to.
He thought, silly imagery of fell snacking on pizza running through his head.  Humor seemed grossly inappropriate, but it did steady his shaking hands.

Not far from his location three guards lurked by the service elevator in the warehouse, all carrying automatic rifles, all fell.  Closing his eyes Carrick tried to see what would be next, but his gift eluded him.  Now he had nothing to do but wait, and pray.

As time rolled on, he began to worry something was wrong, their incantation should have completed by now.  If he stayed where he was much longer-

Suddenly the ground tremored, an airy howl coming from the direction of the beach.  Two of the guards ran past his location towards the commotion. Gunfire rang out followed by screams, begging.

Carrick peered around the edge of the boxes to see a dark haired lad not much older than himself pacing by the elevator, gun at the ready.  One had stayed behind.  Shit.  Looking around he spotted a workers toolbox not far from where he hid, quietly popping the lid he borrowed a wrench.  Then chucked it across the warehouse, listening to the metal clatter across the concrete floor.

Footsteps echoed through the vast storage area as his last remaining obstacle approached.  Drawing his blade he crept forward around the boxes. Waiting.

Feet came into view, back turned towards the direction of the sound.

Carrick lunged forward, grabbing the fell’s gun arm with his left hand he spun him, burying his blade deep beneath the ribcage of the fell.  The firearm clattered to the floor as the fell tried desperately to free himself from Carrick’s hold. Refusing to make eye contact with the gasping boy, he retracted his blade then struck again.  Only when the last rasp had left his lips did he withdraw his weapon, catching the frozen confused look on the fell’s face as he crumpled to the ground. 

Carrick moved quickly through the warehouse towards the elevator.  Swiping the badge he'd pulled off the dock worker on the reader he pressed the call button.  When the doors opened the car was not empty.

Standing above a pile of oil inside the car was an older gentleman in a suit, smoking a cigarette. 
Requesting authorization to begin encouragement tactics?
 

He made no effort to attack, merely smiled at Carrick.  “Long time.”
Requesting authorization to begin encouragement tactics?
  It was him, the man from his abduction.

“You-“

“Boss is on the fourth floor, take a right at the hall.”  He stepped by Carrick, walking towards the warehouse exit.  Carrick wasn’t sure why he let him pass, perhaps it was his calm demeanor, or the fell blood smeared all over his shirt.

“That’s it?”  He expected the man to fight him, stop him, something.

He flicked his cigarette butt into the pile of oil left by the guard he had stabbed. “Yep.”

“I should kill you.”  Carrick yelled out to him.  How dare this man do what he did and just walk away?  To him, to his mother..

“Yeah, you probably should.  But, I’m guessing you have places to be.”  For a moment he watched, confused as the stranger gave him a wave without turning around. “Have fun kid.” Then pushed through the exit into the beach commotion without even the slightest sign of concern. 

He thought of chasing him down, seeking justice for the wrongs inflicted upon him, but whoever he was, he was right. Carrick did have somewhere to be.

Stepping into the car he punched the 4 button.  Top Floor.  Going up.

48

Under the moonlight dark forms poured from out from beneath the halogen lit doorway, metal instruments of death in their pale hands.  Erik had not garnered their attention, half submerged in the dark waves by the summoning circle he watched alongside Conall as the fell were momentarily taken aback by the massive sand golems and their master.  To properly complete the spell the creatures needed to be bound to a druid, Aodhan had volunteered.  Despite being the youngest of the group, his vitality would be an aid rather than a deterrent in this conflict.  Conjuring such massive creatures, in tandem no less, drained one's strength.  Further Aodhan was the only one without a familiar, so his mental connection to the golems would be continuous.  Watching him fight between the humanoid forms of shifting sand it was obvious they had made the right decision.

"Now?"  Conall whispered.

"No, follow me."  Erik swam around the rocks towards the main entrance to the complex.  Another squadron of fell wearing security uniforms were rushing out from beneath the brightly colored banners in an attempted pincer movement.  Even hidden between the massive bodies of the sand golems, there was no way Aodhan could dodge all of their bullets and maintain control.

When Erik leapt forth, the wave came with him.  Within the churning water, the fell lost their footing, easy targets pulled out toward sea.  Behind him Conall made quick work of the horizontal bodies, his twin daggers a blur as he leapt between his enemies.

"Don't smile yet."  He snapped at Conall as the lad landed beside him in the sand.  A steady stream of men in swat gear continued to pour from the building.

What they had not seen was the dark druid hanging from the balcony above their heads, hiding from the eyes of their spotlights.

In the midst of the second wave, Quin dropped down.  Senneck's Protector split in his hands as he spun, decapitating three men in a single swipe.  As he hit the ground, Quin kicked the open door shut, with his free hand he ripped a piece of decorative metal from the doorways trim and lodged it between the levers, before dashing off towards Aodhan.  At the far end of the beach the large golems were chewing through fell like ants, throwing them a hundred feet in the air, out to sea, back into the concrete monstrosity. In the center of it all Aodhan still stood with his eyes closed, focusing on controlling the constructs around him.

A puff of smoke caught in the spotlight from one of the fell lurking above the far entrance, a metallic tube in his hands as something whistled through the air.

"Down!"  Erik shouted, grabbing Conall's arm as the explosion sent them both flying backward in a wave of heat and rubble.

Hurry, Carrick.

49

A cheerful ding announced his arrival into darkness.  The hallway lit by a series of led lights embedded into the baseboard, showing one where to walk and little else. 
Take a right…

             
He wasn’t exactly sure why he decided to follow the smoker’s directions.  It could have been a trap after all, yet something in his demeanor made him feel oddly trustworthy.  Now, as he rounded the corner towards the posh executive office, he felt he had made the right decision.  A thick gold nameplate shone under a singular led, his assumed identify proudly embossed into the sign.

              With a deep breath, Carrick reached into his knapsack and pulled out the book. He took another as he squared his shoulders, pushing through the door.

              What waited beyond was a black void of nothingness.  The thin framed windows on the far wall let in little moonlight, a long desk barely visible in front of them.

"Lorcan!"  Carrick shouted into the abyss before him. "I'm here. I've got your book. Come out!"

A door opened to the left of the posh desk, the click of dress shoes echoing in the vast emptiness.  Slowly, the space illuminated from the recessed can lights high above their heads.

"Ahh...the young Slaine finds me. What a lovely surprise."  Lorcan appeared as Carrick remembered, a fine black suit, and a cultured face of reputable birth. A poster boy for Wall Street.  He paused behind the desk, looking out the floor to ceiling glass windows behind him.  "I see you brought friends."  One of Aodhan's golems was visible on the beach below, tossing the fell into the sea like toys.   A large wave, likely from Conall, swept across the north end of the island, carrying the helicopter on the pad out to sea with it.

Carrick held up the green leather tome.  "Here it is, see? Give me my mother. Now."

The glow of his umber eyes sent a chill down Carrick's spine as Lorcan smiled.  His teeth, unlike his fell minions, were pristine little rows of white enamel. "Darling come on out. We have company." 

A woman sashayed into the light, her long wavy auburn hair cascading down her back.  She was wearing a pale blue gown with a high slit in the side, a black leather bustier over the dress that matched her six inch heels.  Diamond bracelets decorated her wrists, a wide black lace choker around her neck.

"Hello sweet child."  She smiled at him, her equally white teeth amplified by dark red lipstick.

"What...what did you do to her?"  Carrick demanded, eyeing his mother in utter bewilderment.  She had never as much put on lip gloss, now here she was looking like a Goth fashion show reject with enough makeup to audition for the villainess in a vampire movie.

"Carrick, son of Brannon, allow me to introduce my darling love, Narine." Unbuttoning his suit coat he extended a long arm towards his mother, tipping his head slightly towards her with reverence.

"How is this possible?"  Erik had told him about Lorcan's return, but that was a human soul.  Narine was a nymph, how could a soulless creature be raised from the dead and further, injected into his mother's body.  Panic washed over him as he wondered what this meant for his mother.  Was Maureen Smith still in there?

"Anything is possible with perseverance."  Lorcan swept a hand towards Carrick. "Just look at you, lanky human boy thrown into the ancient realm so far beyond the comprehension of your primitive grey matter. You persevered, thrived even. Now you stand before me, the murderous gleam in your hate-filled eye. Are we truly so different? How could we be? After all, blood is thicker than water."

Carrick frowned, shifting his feet.

"Oh? Did your cousin Quin not tell you about his dear father? How he was betrayed and cast out? How his real love was slowly murdered when they had the power to stop it with the flick of a wrist?"  His mother wrapped her arms around Lorcan's waist, nuzzling his neck to soothe him.  Maureen's actions churned his stomach while Lorcan's words addled his mind.  Quin was his...cousin?  If Lorcan was his father...

Suddenly the state of Ash End made sense, the pictures ripped from the wall, Quin's sullen reserved attitude, his initial jealousy of Carrick...it all fell into line with what Lorcan was saying.  Why hadn't he told him?  Why hadn't Erik?  Further, if Quin was his cousin...then was Lorcan...his uncle?

"Come. Join us. Have the loving parents you've always wanted. I will teach you that which your father never would. Powers that stretch beyond your imagination. You can claim the girl you desire as your princess for a new age. Together we will cast out the hypocrisy of Dre'ien and soil the earth in a new future. One not dependent on the greens, but self-made might."

"Yes honey, come here. I've missed you so much, my darling baby."  Her arms outstretched in anticipation of a hug; welcoming, inviting.  She sounded just like his mother, looked just like his mother...

"I..."  Carrick didn't know what to say.

"You're confusion is expected young Carrick. You have after all only heard part of the story.  Only been taught by those that would use you for their purpose."  Carrick's brow furrowed, watching Lorcan slowly walk back towards his desk. "Have you ever watched a tree in the breeze?  I mean, really watched it.  It moves as a whole, yet every single individual piece sways in its own way, quivering and twisting against the current akin to the prairie or the-oh-so-cliché rolling hills.  Have you ever noticed?  No.  Of course not.  While massive to say, the tiny ant, the blades of grass in a field are miniscule to you." He smiled wide, waving a hand over the small bonsai tree set atop the desk's marble surface.  It instantly shifted, twisting into a gnarled collection of rotting twigs. "Just as these
humans
are miniscule to
me
. To
us
.  If a few shrivel and die under foot, there are seven billion more to carry us along."

"It's not the same."  Carrick took a step back, shaking his head.  His mother looked upset at his refusal, turning her open arms on Lorcan.  He embraced her quickly then pulled away, walking towards Carrick slowly.

"Isn't it?  My dear boy, think about it.  Think about your life; walking along the green hills, smiling at the sun without a care to the havoc beneath your feet.  Are you accosted for this diabolical act?  No.  The immobile creatures beneath your tread are beneath you. Just as they are beneath us.  It is...as the druids would claim...survival of the fittest.  Nature's way."  His words dripped with sarcasm.  Carrick's mother chuckled darkly in agreement.  "Surely you know they must be culled, this world cannot sustain them all."

"What is it you plan to do?"  Beneath his ribs his heart thrashed against its cage, begging Carrick's feet to flee the approaching darkness.

"Do?"  Lorcan laughed.  "I do not have to
do
anything.  These foolish mortals do it themselves. Their lust for wealth, for material possessions, for disposable instant gratification does all the work for me. They come to
me
for aid, for guidance.  I simply wish to restore the natural order of things, to reclaim our place in the hierarchy, build a new and better world."

"Just give him the book honey."  Maureen smiled, taking a step towards Carrick.  "Then we can put all this nasty business behind us."

"Mom..."  Carrick looked into her eyes, searching beneath the umber irises for any trace of humanity, of any trace of kindness.  It is always said that the eyes are the windows to the soul, throughout his life Carrick had always found solace in his mother's.  There is no visage on earth so committed to love than a mother's gaze.  No Romeo nor Juliet could ever match the level of unconditional affection given.  Yet, in Maureen Smith's blood hazed eyes he saw no trace of love.  No kindness nor grace.  The gentle soul that had loved him since before he entered this world did not speak the kind words that begged him to submit.  For now, be it permanent or temporary, she was gone.  "I'm sorry." 

Placing his left hand over the book's cover Carrick flicked the lighter.