Born of Oak and Silver (The Caradoc Chronicles) (17 page)

Without a word I knew.

Bram moved away, making his way back toward the hill and away from the congealing smoke. I followed him with my eyes downcast, my handkerchief held over my mouth and nose as I stumbled over the obscured ash and soot covered ground. We made it to the hill, and both of us fell to ground.

On my knees, I
began to sob; my upper body crumpled forward so that my forearms supported my body on the soot-covered ground. I remained that way until there was nothing left inside of me to express. I was a dry and empty river. I mourned not only the woman who would have soon been my wife and the mother of my unborn children, but also the entire family who had made me one of their own. I had lost a father, mother, brothers, and sisters—an entire family that I cherished as blood.

I
had become so lost in my grief that I had entirely forgotten I was not alone. I raised my head from my hands and found Bram just over the crest of the hill, staring blankly into the sea. He looked as bedraggled as I felt. His soot-covered face was streaked by trails of tears, and his impeccable clothing was now stained varying shades of gray. Even his beard had turned to the ugly color of ash. I couldn’t look at him any longer, and made a careful study of my cracked hands—of the dried blood that was obscured and dirtied by grime.

“They are all there.” He gestured unspecifically behind him toward the
ruined estate. “They have been lain out together. I cannot figure out by what . . . party,” he coughed the word, “. . . most of them died. Had you given Brigid a ring?”

I felt sick
inside, and had to force myself to speak. “Yes. I did.”

Bram nodded, and with a cracking voice managed to barely get out, “And
did she wear it around her neck?”

I couldn’t speak, I knew that whatever it was Bram was about to reveal was going to be something I wasn’t going to like learning.

He choked on a sob, trying to compose himself enough to tell me. “She was the fortunate one.” His turned to me, his brilliant-green eyes made all the more so by his tears. “She was killed by fire.”

I felt as though I’
d had the wind knocked out of me. I had expected him to deliver such a blow, but I was not fully prepared for it. No one ever could be. In that very moment, I believe I felt it as my heart broke into jagged pieces. I then realized what Bram had inferred, and I asked him quietly, “And the others?”

He cleared his throat, and looked down at his right hand
, where he was fidgeting with his sapphire ring. He cleared his throat a second time and began. “The others appear to have been completely . . . sucked dry.” He now chose to turn and stare directly into my eyes. “That is the most accurate way that I am able to describe them. There is nothing left to them but their shriveled remains, devoid of all resemblance. I,” he looked at the ground and shook his head a bit before returning his gaze to my own, “I have never seen anything so appalling. They were robbed of their life forces in a most horrifying manner, and were then reverently laid upon the ground in their birth order. All but Ayda—her body was not with the others.”

I had to swallow a fragment of my heart before I was able to speak. The idea of the deaths the Macardles must have endured wounded me
even deeper still. For the first time, I began to feel angry. Anger soon turned to rage, and then a scorching fury.

“Let’s go and find her then.” Without waiting for Bram’s direction, I reached inside of myself and called the wind. I felt a stirring
deep inside, the energy of the Earth being pulled up through the burned soil beneath my feet. Without preamble, a forcefully blustering wind rushed off the sea, swooped up the hill, and shrieked past Bram and me as it gained force and speed and surged toward the Macardles’ smoke-obscured estate.

The smoke and w
ind clashed; the wind was rebuffed.

The smoke remained unmoved by the wind, strange and unnatural in the wake of such strength against it. However, as I directed, the wind began to circle the perimeter of the property, again gaining speed as it constricted
, closing in against the smoky front. Soon the smoke and wind were beginning to spiral, ascending higher and higher until it appeared as though a massive tornado hovered precisely over what had been the Macardles’ home. The wind whipped the smoke upward, dispersing it as it carried it higher into the atmosphere.

The sky was overcast
, and rain began to fall heavily upon the earth. With the air now clear, I breathed in deeply in an effort to clear my lungs of the soot that had collected in them. I coughed heartily, and began to feel whatever had decided to lodge itself in my breathing ways loosen. The rain was an equally welcome addition as it began to wash my dirty hands and face.

Bram was speechless.

I did not know what was crossing his mind, but I did not ponder upon it long. I was still incensed, and as soon as the wind had cleared the last of the smoke I ran headlong through the pouring rain, once more into the wreckage. I did not know exactly where Bram had been searching, so I went to the closest area that I had not yet been to. Bram did not accompany me, and so I searched recklessly alone.

I did not have to look long.

I found the Macardles’ bodies just as Bram had described them. To the far left was what I believe could only be Darragh, laid alongside his wife, and followed by Gair and the rest of their children. Bram’s description had been perfectly apt. Their bodies now resembled shriveled grapes. Even their bones had taken on a different state, where if they existed at all, it was surely only in a powdered form.

I found myself involuntarily gagging in disgust when I saw the collapsed
and shriveled faces of my adoptive family. Puckered, unnaturally large gaping holes remained where their eyes, noses, and mouths had once been.

My eyes then found the remains of my beautiful Brigid.

I had avoided looking at her despite her place in the center of her family’s lineup. Her body was burned beyond recognition, but mercifully lacking the collapsed and shriveled characteristics of her family. A simple diamond ring, which had melted into her flesh as she’d burned, provided the only recognizable characteristic of familiarity.

She was gone, and I turned away from the tragic demise of the Macardle family as my body sickly purged itself of everything that
it could find to be rid of. I allowed myself a moment to steady myself, with my head lowered almost to the height of my knees as I tried to regain my composure. The stench of the place was horrendous: death, burned flesh, and something sulfuric in nature. I found myself retching again.

I tried to
inhale, but couldn’t without feeling that I was being smothered in rot. I scrambled away as quickly as I could manage through the now slippery ashen mud, blinded as my eyes watered profusely from both being sick and the smell, exacerbated by the heavily falling rain.

I looked up through my tears to see Bram
making his way around the burned and mud-covered landscape, moving toward me, his eyes resembling glowing emeralds as he neared. He immediately reached down and pulled me to my feet, my skin feeling charged where he touched my arm as he pulled me up.

He
looked beyond me, toward the bodies of his son and grandchildren. I could feel his readiness, charging and electrifying the air between us. I immediately turned to face the direction he faced, preparing myself for the worst.

We stood, side by side,
peering into the trees that were just beyond the Macardles' remains. Nothing appeared, the rain continued to fall extensively upon us, but we remained fixed in our positions, waiting and listening for what, I did not know. Just as I was beginning to consider letting my guard waver, is the exact moment that something did.

It was worse than I had expected.
I was quickly beginning to realize that legends just might be long-forgotten truths. I held my breath as the Nuckelavee pushed its way through the trees, filling the air with the most terrible odor I could have ever imagined. The ground withered with its every step, and every bit of verdant foliage began to instantly rot the moment he—for it clearly was a “he”—passed by.

The beast was truly a terrible sight.
A creature with no legs sat upon the back of another creature that could have once been a great horse. His arms were long and sinuous, stretching almost down to the ground, with fingers that resembled claws more than human appendages. A sickly, skinny neck, which was unable to hold up a head at least three times larger than that of a man, rose up from the torso.

Because of the inadequate n
eck, the creature’s head lolled from side to side as he walked toward us. He smiled a nasty grin with a mouth that was similar to that of its steed. He had no hair, as he had not a single strip of skin upon its body. Reddened and raw, infected muscles and tendons pulled and flexed in our plain sight; made all the worse by yellow veins through which his black blood flowed. The poor creature that served as his mount suffered a similar appearance.

Every instinct was telling me to run from the terrible beast
; that is, until I saw that one of his pinched hands held the limp body of Ayda in its grasp. He dragged her along the ground, much like a child would with a rag doll. Her body was still partially covered by a ragged, dirty, and tattered dress. I held my ground, feeling brave again as my own inner beast raged at the atrocities that had been done. That such a base creature should dare to touch even a single hair on her head sent me beyond what I was able to contain.

I
searched Ayda through the pouring rain, looking for any sign that she might still be alive. I prayed that she was. Under my heightened scrutiny, I noticed that both the Nuckelavee and Ayda seemed to be shielded by some invisible means so as to not be bothered by the rain.

“Release you
r hold on the child!” Bram’s eyes flared, and I felt the air begin to vibrate with his words.

A painful-
sounding laugh whined from the porcine-like jaws of the overly large head. It was followed by a scraping, guttural sound as the Nuckelavee attempted to speak. “Silly human. Think to challenge th’Nuckelavee. I crush y’bones, drink y’innards, all th’while you still living.” The creature then produced a smile full of jagged, swine-like teeth.

Bram was about to speak but I stepped
in front of him before he could counter. I spoke low, my own eyes flashing murderous retribution at the creature as I commanded it. “Let her go now, or I will personally ensure you a more painful death than you will already be receiving.” I seethed with anger and adrenaline, which fueled my body for the upcoming battle.

Again
the Nuckelavee attempted what can only be described as a laugh, filling the air with foul, venomous breath. He lifted Ayda to its snout and smelled her skin, then ran a long, sore-covered tongue over her bare neck and arms. Her chest rose and fell ever so faintly in an effort to live. My skin crawled at the sight of such befoulment.

I called forth fire. It
shot out from the trees behind the Nuckelavee, and hit the creature with full-force on his back. The Nuckelavee stumbled forward, catching himself with one hand and the horse’s knees. I realized that the legless rider was somehow fused to the actual back of the horse, making them one in body and mind.

I did not hesitate to call another blast of fire from the trees to again land on the creature’s back.
The smell of the creature’s slightly charred flesh, intertwined with its already acrid reek, caused Bram and I to fight against choking.

The Nuckelave
e emitted a snarling growl as he attempted to use his overly long arms to help right himself. He released Ayda and left her in a crumpled heap as it again tried to stand.

Fire came from behind me this time to hit the beast square in the chest.
He stumbled a few paces away, his raw, muscled chest smoking from the blast. No serious damage had been done by the fire. If both Darragh and Gair had succumbed to the Nuckelavee, then Bram and I were without question in for a very difficult fight.

A gross infectio
n began to seep from the sores on the creature’s body. It dripped onto the ground and pooled around its feet. Everything living thing—grass, flowers, or brush—dried and withered instantaneously as the infection touched them. It moved out and away from its creator, making its way toward us.

I was oblivious to anything but the Nuckelavee, watching its every move in an effort to not be caught off guard. I was unsure of just how
I was going to fight it, much less destroy it. The ooze that was moving toward me was an obstacle that I was defenseless against. It was a consolation that, in the very least, I had been an adequate distraction. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Bram lifting Ayda and carrying her silently away. I had not even known that he had left me.

The Nuckelavee had not either.

I stepped toward him
, my inner, ancient beast shining visibly through my eyes. I decided to try something a bit more continuous than a single blast. I extended my hands and called forth both wind and fire. They shot forward from behind me, merging together to envelop the Nuckelavee in a swirling, bellowing pillar of flames. This seemed to have more of an effect on the creature. He howled and growled as every surface of its exposed tissue relentlessly burned. He moved toward me, and stopped as the fire moved with it. Distracted by the current assault, his infection stopped moving forward and seeped into the earth, killing the soil as it went, but losing its ability to any longer be a threat.