Read Online Emily's House (The Akasha Chronicles) by Natalie Wright - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Natalie Wright
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rode as fast as his steed could take him. The wind whipped his hair and vines and branches cut his hands and face as he rode through the tangle.
As Cathaír rode, he heard the mournful cry of the Bian Sídhe, her hideous screeching cutting through the air surrounding the Grove. Her cries only made him ride faster, away from the dead body of his love. Away from the woman that was the embodiment of the goddess on Earth. Away from the fallen Sacred Grove of Brighid.
He rode with a single-minded purpose. He must go to Sorcha.
13. The End Of The Order Of Brighid
“Saorla. . . killed herself?” I asked.
“Yes,” was Hindergog’s reply.
“But she should have fought,” said Fanny. “She gave up. She was a great warrior. If she and Cathaír had fought too, they could have whipped Dughall’s butt.”
“My mistress was a formidable warrior, and she might have ‘whipped his butt’ as you say, lass, but she could not take the chance. If there was any possibility that Dughall could lay his hands on the torc in the Sacred Grove. . . well, it was just too dangerous to risk.”
“Why?” asked Jake. “What would happen if Dughall had been successful?”
“Mysteries are revealed in the Netherworld. Some things are best kept a mystery.”
“But you want me to go there. If some things are best left to mystery, then why send me there?”
“You must go, my young mistress, so that you can prevent Dughall from learning the secrets of the Netherworld. In his hands. . . ”
“So Dughall would use the information for evil, not good?” Fanny asked.
“Evil is all that Dughall knows,” replied Hindergog. “Now young ones, my story is almost complete. Stay quiet while I finish the tale of Saorla and the Order of Brighid.”
As Bian Sídhe wailed, Dughall, Cormac, Macha and Cian ran through the Grove on the old, hidden path to the Well. The wood was thick and cut into their ankles and wrists as they ran.
In time, the copse began to clear, and it opened up to reveal a circle of stones around a well. Dughall burst into the clearing and there, lying beside the stones was Saorla, her body now lifeless, her skin pale alabaster. Saorla’s fingers were still curled around her dagger, wet with her own blood.
Dughall barked orders to Macha. “Remove her cloak so I may take my prize,” he hollered.
“It’s not here, you fool,” Macha replied.
“What do you mean?” he yelled back.
“Don’t you remember anything I tell you? She killed herself so the torc would release. She probably had someone take it, and they are long gone by now,” Macha said as she pulled Saorla’s cloak aside to reveal her right arm, bare now that the torc was gone.
Dughall was silent for a moment then began a low, guttural scream that soon rose higher and higher until it vied with Bian Sídhe’s own wailing. Dughall’s fury encompassed him. He pulled his sword and in one quick movement, swung his sharply honed blade at Cormac and cut his head clean off his body. Cormac’s body fell with a thud, blood gushing from the gaping wound where his head used to be.
“Feel better now?” Macha taunted.
“Watch your tone, pixie, or you’re next. I’m growing weary of the sight of you,” he replied.
“You won’t kill me,” she said.
“Give me one good reason why I should not lay waste to you, the old man there, and everyone in my path?”
“Because this old man and I are the only ones that can help you achieve your greatest desire.”
“I have listened to you, Macha, and tolerated you and this insipid old fool. Look what it has brought me! This young girl has outwitted us all,” he said as he kicked Saorla’s limp body.
Just then, the ground began to rumble and shake. The sky blackened further and thunder bellowed. All around Saorla’s body the ground began to crack. Up through the cracks came grass and vines that wound around Saorla’s body. Within a matter of seconds, the ground swallowed her entire body, including the
As Cathaír rode, he heard the mournful cry of the Bian Sídhe, her hideous screeching cutting through the air surrounding the Grove. Her cries only made him ride faster, away from the dead body of his love. Away from the woman that was the embodiment of the goddess on Earth. Away from the fallen Sacred Grove of Brighid.
He rode with a single-minded purpose. He must go to Sorcha.
13. The End Of The Order Of Brighid
“Saorla. . . killed herself?” I asked.
“Yes,” was Hindergog’s reply.
“But she should have fought,” said Fanny. “She gave up. She was a great warrior. If she and Cathaír had fought too, they could have whipped Dughall’s butt.”
“My mistress was a formidable warrior, and she might have ‘whipped his butt’ as you say, lass, but she could not take the chance. If there was any possibility that Dughall could lay his hands on the torc in the Sacred Grove. . . well, it was just too dangerous to risk.”
“Why?” asked Jake. “What would happen if Dughall had been successful?”
“Mysteries are revealed in the Netherworld. Some things are best kept a mystery.”
“But you want me to go there. If some things are best left to mystery, then why send me there?”
“You must go, my young mistress, so that you can prevent Dughall from learning the secrets of the Netherworld. In his hands. . . ”
“So Dughall would use the information for evil, not good?” Fanny asked.
“Evil is all that Dughall knows,” replied Hindergog. “Now young ones, my story is almost complete. Stay quiet while I finish the tale of Saorla and the Order of Brighid.”
As Bian Sídhe wailed, Dughall, Cormac, Macha and Cian ran through the Grove on the old, hidden path to the Well. The wood was thick and cut into their ankles and wrists as they ran.
In time, the copse began to clear, and it opened up to reveal a circle of stones around a well. Dughall burst into the clearing and there, lying beside the stones was Saorla, her body now lifeless, her skin pale alabaster. Saorla’s fingers were still curled around her dagger, wet with her own blood.
Dughall barked orders to Macha. “Remove her cloak so I may take my prize,” he hollered.
“It’s not here, you fool,” Macha replied.
“What do you mean?” he yelled back.
“Don’t you remember anything I tell you? She killed herself so the torc would release. She probably had someone take it, and they are long gone by now,” Macha said as she pulled Saorla’s cloak aside to reveal her right arm, bare now that the torc was gone.
Dughall was silent for a moment then began a low, guttural scream that soon rose higher and higher until it vied with Bian Sídhe’s own wailing. Dughall’s fury encompassed him. He pulled his sword and in one quick movement, swung his sharply honed blade at Cormac and cut his head clean off his body. Cormac’s body fell with a thud, blood gushing from the gaping wound where his head used to be.
“Feel better now?” Macha taunted.
“Watch your tone, pixie, or you’re next. I’m growing weary of the sight of you,” he replied.
“You won’t kill me,” she said.
“Give me one good reason why I should not lay waste to you, the old man there, and everyone in my path?”
“Because this old man and I are the only ones that can help you achieve your greatest desire.”
“I have listened to you, Macha, and tolerated you and this insipid old fool. Look what it has brought me! This young girl has outwitted us all,” he said as he kicked Saorla’s limp body.
Just then, the ground began to rumble and shake. The sky blackened further and thunder bellowed. All around Saorla’s body the ground began to crack. Up through the cracks came grass and vines that wound around Saorla’s body. Within a matter of seconds, the ground swallowed her entire body, including the
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