Stone Guardian (7 page)

Hooking his taloned paws over the protruding curve of the ledge, Arach stretched his tattered wings to their fullest span. With a nod toward a mottled curlicue tattooed across the inside of his foremost right wing, Arach heated the mark with a well-aimed snort until the stained flesh took on an inky sheen. “Do ye see that mark, old woman? Do ye have the foggiest idea what it means?”

“I am well aware of your status, Arach. Dinna bore me with your presumptuous theatrics. Do ye truly think I’d allow entry of anything into this world other than the highest ranking of the ancient demons? I chose carefully for a proper cleansing of my beloved land.”

“Ye allowed nothing, ye pompous bitch.” The coals in his gullet churned with restless fury, arming for inevitable combustion. How dare the
Cailleach
take airs with him, Arach, reaper and annihilator of all worlds scattered among the portals. “I tire of your nattering, old woman. Leave my presence now or risk stirring my ire until I find it necessary to destroy
all
your pets.”

“Fine, Arach. Do as ye will. But ye should know that I will soon awaken him.”

“Who?”

“Ye know exactly who. He bested ye once before.”

“Ah.” Arach sucked in a belly-stretching breath. “
Him.
” Arach squinted one eye closed as he tilted his head to scratch a particularly bothersome itch behind his left horn. “I do not fear him or anyone else for that matter. I am no longer the inexperienced lower demon Torin once battled.”

“I would much rather ye leave this place of your own accord, Arach. ’Twould be far better if ye made the choice willingly and passed through the magic without force. Ye have destroyed much in this world that I would’ve preferred ye left unharmed.”

Arach curled back his lips and released a warning blaze out across the choppy surface of the ocean. “I dinna give a damn about your druthers,
Cailleach
. Neither my existence nor my pleasures are any of your concern.”

A despondent sigh floated across the rising wind like a moaning echo through the caverns. “So it shall be then, wicked Arach. Ye leave me little choice.”

Arach allowed himself a gloating smile as he settled his leathery wings down into ratty folds across his spiked back. “Ye made yer choice centuries ago, old woman. ’Tis the price ye pay when dealing with the devil.”

Chapter Nine

Emma cranked the sound louder on the television to drown out the barest hint of crashing waves pounding against the beach.
Much better.
With the windows shuttered, the curtains drawn and the TV blaring, she couldn’t hear the ocean at all.

Padding her way into the kitchen, she hesitated in front of the television as the screen exploded with the latest film footage of a raging fire somewhere on the island. Orange flames licked in and out of rolling black smoke streaming from a row of houses. Yellow-coated men scrambled with gray-white fire hoses snaking across the ground. Billows of steam rose from the inferno as the jets of water evaporated from the intense heat surrounding the buildings. Barely controlled chaos clamored in the background of the news announcer’s voice.

Moira’s warning echoed through her thoughts as a swirling orange ball of flames flew across the screen and exploded into a stand of already smoldering buildings. The roaring inferno definitely met her definition of disaster. Emma swallowed hard and blinked against a sense of gnawing uncertainty fueled by the carnage on the screen.

A slight movement in the upper portion of the video caught Emma’s attention. Edging closer to the TV, she bent until she stood eye level with the screen, studying the odd-looking winged form outlined against the swirling sky. As she watched, the strange figure disappeared into the roiling black smoke. Emma shivered with a strange sense of recognition at the long-tailed apparition sporting a pair of tattered, batlike wings.

Emma grabbed her cell phone off the back of the couch and punched in Moira’s speed dial number. Moira had recounted many times that she and Alfred watched the local news with religious fervor. When Moira answered, excitement stalled Emma’s words on her tongue because the demonic-looking lizard with ratty black wings had just emerged back out of the clouds. Blinking hard, Emma pressed the phone closer to her mouth as Moira’s third curt
hello
broke her words free. “Moira! Are you watching the news?”

“Why of course, dear. The fire is just terrible. Such a loss of property and they’ve still not found several of the occupants. I fear they’ve met a tragic end. Why do ye ask, Dr. Emma? Are ye all right?”

Moira’s sing-song voice buzzed in Emma’s ear. How could the older woman be so calm? The thing flying through those clouds looked like some evil winged lizard that the depths of hell had ejected. “Moira, look. Flying through those clouds on the right of the screen. Don’t you see it? What do you think that thing is?”

“See what, Dr. Emma? All I see is another one of those horrid fires. We seem to be plagued with a lot of them of late but no one has the gumption to admit it’s the beast because they can no’ find any substantial evidence to prove it.”

“Substantial evidence? How much more substantial evidence do they need? That’s it right there on the video, Moira! You were right. Your so-called beast is on television right now.”
Dang!
If only she’d rented that recorder she’d seen in the shops. That creature was freaking unbelievable. “Can’t you see it, Moira? It’s that lizard thing hovering close to the top of the screen. Look! It just belched a big mouthful of fire all over that tanker truck. What channel are you watching?” Maybe that was the problem. Moira must be watching a different channel and her viewpoint of the blaze was different. Emma clicked the info button on the remote. Channel seven flickered briefly at the bottom of the screen. “Turn your TV to channel seven.”

“We are watching channel seven, dear. ’Tis the only local news channel there is. We just saw that fire truck explode but we didn’t see anything resembling your...what did ye call it? Ah yes. Flying lizard. We didn’t see anything like that. And besides, no mortal has the ability to see the beast I spoke of earlier, Dr. Emma. Only a stone guardian can detect such ancient evil and I know ye canna be from any stone guardian clan. Why, yer no’ even from Scotland. Hello? Dr. Emma? Are ye feeling unwell, my dear? Perhaps yer just over-tired from your trip.”

How was it that Moira didn’t see that fire-breathing monster? Emma blinked, squeezing both eyes tightly shut for a few seconds then slowly re-opened them. The thing was still there lobbing fireballs at the crowd. How could Moira not see it? Come to think of it, the reporter was acting pretty nonchalant about the whole ordeal raging all around him as well. Was she losing her mind? Emma clicked off the TV. She couldn’t bear watching anymore of the strange annihilation.

“Dr. Emma? Hello? Are ye there? Are ye certain yer all right?”

“I’m fine, Moira. I guess…maybe I’m just a little tired. Sorry to have bothered you.” Emma clicked the button and tossed the phone onto the couch. What the hell was going on here? Grabbing her keys, she headed for the door. She must be more stressed out by everything than she thought. Maybe a drive
away from the water
would calm her nerves and clear the hallucinations from her head.

Chapter Ten

His eyes popped open in immediate awareness. A tensed sense of apprehension surrounded him like armor. A chilling breeze blew across his skin, tickling his flesh with an electrifying warning. “Have ye awakened me again for a bit more of your wicked teasing or do ye mean to keep your word and release me this time?” Hesitating, almost afraid of what he’d find, Torin lifted a hand to his face, relaxing a bit when rough bristles of unshaved skin scratched against his palm.
Thank the gods.
His spirit and body were reconnected.

“I’ve awakened ye because your task is finally upon ye, my lovely hard-headed fool.”
Cailleach na Mointeach’s
triumphant chuckle danced through the muffled thunder grumbling across the hillside.

Torin shook the stiffness from his shoulders and stretched from the damp shadow of the stones, stepping into the glaring warmth of the blazing sunlight. Something still wasn’t right.
Scowling at the ground, he turned and squinted up at the cloudless sky. “Then why do I no’ cast a shadow?”

“Wait,”
Cailleach
chortled across the rising wind. “Your awakening will be completed when the balance of your destiny arrives. Patience, my precious chieftain.”

A ripping grind shattered the stillness of the deserted hillside. Every sense alerted, every muscle tensed, Torin crouched and scanned the bleak horizon for the source. He’d never heard such a monstrous wail screeching across his land. Had the portal released some newly spawned evil he’d never battled?

A dust cloud surrounded a strange moving object. Some sort of wagon churned up the dry, dirt-packed lane without aid of any animal. What strange sort of magic was this? Circular orbs beamed rays of light from the front of the beast, lighting the path it followed. The beacons originated from shining globes mounted atop the curving face of the body as though channeling the sun or some sort of white-hot flame. The flesh of the beast looked to be made of shields lashed together with invisible ropes. Dropping lower against the ground, Torin studied the odd-looking creation.
Mac an donais!
The thing glinted with the color of freshly spilled blood. How had the monster captured such a vibrant shade for its hide? His warriors would have given their finest daggers for such a dye to stain their marks upon their shields. Torin edged back into the shadows of the stones as the strange red vision rolled its way up the gentle slope toward the circle of megaliths.

“What magic is this?” Torin muttered to the
Cailleach
. Clenching the roughened edge of his beloved obelisk, he shifted closer to the stone. The coolness of the block transmitted security; the chiseled surface of the great spire scrubbed his fingertips an abrasive welcome. Lifting his face to the wind, irritation burned in his chest when all that met his question was silence. “Aye, so ye’ve left me to fend for myself? Well, so be it. I am not afraid.” Sucking in a deep breath, he closed his hand around his amulet. The old sense of power surged through his veins. He was still the one. Stone guardian chieftain. As wielder of the sacred magics, he’d kept the beasts from this world for centuries. A flicker of doubt whispered in his ear. He tossed his head and clenched the necklace tighter. He didn’t fear what lay ahead. He just liked knowing what he faced.

The growling mystery rolled to a stop within a few yards of his precious stone gateways. A cloud of dust swirled around the body of the thing, shielding its innards from view. Still clutching the edge of the center stone, Torin peered closer at the strange sight. The wind picked up, whistling through the obelisks dotting the barren hillside. The call of the stones answering the wind drowned the roaring apprehension pounding in his head.

One side of the contraption opened as though spreading a great crimson wing and a woman emerged from the belly of the beast.

“Almighty Brid,” Torin breathed. His hand dropped from the amulet around his neck and clenched the familiar haft of the dirk strapped to his thigh. What the hell had the
Cailleach
sent him?

Her long tanned legs stretched from a revealing pair of short dark trews. The tempting expanse of skin disappearing up into the tiny bit of cloth awakened his groin, reminding him he lived and breathed. Flaming red hair framed her upturned face. Stubborn curls fought against some sort of tie. Her tresses shone more brilliant than any sunset and cascaded down her back to curl just above her narrow waist. A full bosom strained against thin white material stretched across her chest. Torin sent up a chant for a heavy rain. Surely when wet, her tunic would disappear and bless him with a clearer view. Then he noticed it and a shudder of realization shook through him as dread chased all thoughts of anything else from him. A stone guardian’s amulet, identical to his, dangled from her graceful neck.

“Ye’ve awakened me from my penance just to meet another guardian? This is the one ye wish for me to join? The last time I stirred from this accursed sleep, ye had allowed Arach to send the guardians on their way to the next time. Ye made me believe all of my clan had passed beyond the veils.” Had she truly brought some of his clan back across? Hadn’t she said she’d shelter a select few? “What is it ye ask of me now,
Cailleach
? I’ve slept too long to remain chieftain and lead a clan. I do not belong in this world.”

Nothing but unbearable silence met his question. Torin snorted, pounding his fist against the cold jagged edge of the nearest stone. “And what good is an old chieftain who can no longer guide his clan? How could I possibly protect my people in a time I know nothing about?” Torin cast a bitter glance to the sky, knowing full well the conniving
Cailleach
heard every word he said.

Cailleach’s
cackling laughter finally danced across the breeze yanking through his hair. “Ye remain my chieftain because I deem it so. Ye will serve me well in this time—even better than ye did in the past. ’Tis true I sent our gifted clan to the next place but I couldna bear to strip my blessed land of them all. I’ve kept a few within this world, kept them unaware of the powers they possess in order to protect them. They’ve remained scattered about the earth, hidden for just such a time as now. I need ye, Torin. Ye must awaken the lass to her gifts and the two of ye work as one. This world is rife with escaped chaos.” The wind whistled a sorrowful moan between the stone spires. “I erred, Torin. I ne’er shouldha chosen Arach for the cleansing. The demon has tormented this humanity long enough. ’Twill take the full strength and magic of two powerful stone guardians to purge the beast from this land and restore balance for the path of renewal.”

Torin tensed as the fiery haired woman moved closer. He pressed tighter against the cool, solid security of his trusted stone obelisk. “I bested Arach once before,
Cailleach
. I do not need the help of another. Let me do this task alone and then send me back to my blessed oblivion. My soul still aches with the loss of my wife and the very look of this strange woman stirs the memory of my precious Eilean.”