The Keeper of Souls

8/7/2019 The Keeper of Souls

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Druids and Dragons The Keeper of Souls

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Prelude

West Cork, Ireland, July 7th, 2007

The nine fifteen coach to Cork started to move off before the old man had found his way

to his seat, causing him to stumble. He grabbed one of the seats to steady himself and

soldiered on, apologising to a woman he bumped into and smiling at two small children while

on his way. A number of the passengers recoiled subconsciously as he passed, more than one

with looks of disdain on their faces. It was an unfortunate fact of life for passengers on this

route to have to endure unwashed hippies and the occasional drunkard who had spent his

pension in the pub. Their reason for feeling such about this particular passenger was the

manner of his attire. He was wearing an ancient cloak, a little tatty, and of indeterminate

colour, which was held in place by a gold clasp. This in itself was unusual as it was a bright

morning, and it was by no means cold, but allied with his long silver hair and stout shape, he

did not conform to the normal pensioner stereotype. In addition, rather than the expected

stench of dried urine and booze, he left behind him a fragrant odour of meadow flowers and

summer fruits.

He eventually found his way to the back row of seats, and the coach had stopped at the

next stop by the time he sat down. He rested a strange misshapen cane beside him. It was

narrow at the top, but grew quite wide toward the bottom, tapering to a point at the end. This

stop was going to take some time, as the driver disembarked and went to talk to an official

outside, so the old man looked absent-mindedly out of the window. He paid no attention to

the several passengers, mainly women, who were stealing furtive glances down the rear

toward him. Having reassured themselves that he was not a smelly tramp, they were now




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recollecting the look on his face and his flashing blue eyes, something that belied his obvious

years.

The old man turned his head back from enjoying the sunshine-bathed scenery outside to

see three small children standing in the aisle in front of him. All were aged between three and

five, the tallest a boy and the other two, girls. They were conversing among themselves,

looking shyly in his direction. It seemed they were trying to figure out who was going to

speak to him. Eventually, all three turned to face him.

µExcuse me, Mister. Are you Santa Claus?¶ the tallest of the three asked. All looked eager,

convinced that the old man was someone of importance.

He smiled broadly, reached his hands under his cloak, and leant forward conspiratorially.

µNo. I am somebody much more important«.¶ He winked at them.

µWhat?¶ the tall boy asked again, confused. The other two looked awestruck.

µSanta Claus but comes here every Christmas««¶ the old man looked each of them in the

eye for effect. µBut I can do this«.¶

With a flourish, the old man pulled a large purple flower and gave it to the smallest girl,

who gave a little whimper of glee and beamed with gratitude. He then cupped one hand on

top of the other, and opened them carefully in front of the middle child, revealing a tiny field

mouse. It sat up, perfectly at ease in the old man¶s hand, and happily allowed itself to be

transferred to the eager hands of the second girl. With minimal hesitation, the old man then

looked at the boy with a glint in his eye. He had his hands cupped again, and motioned for the

boy to slide his hands in through the cupped hands. The boy¶s eyes opened wide as he did so,

the old man opening his hands to allow the boy to show he was holding a small goldfinch.

The bird was not panicking ± it looked more like it was putting on a performance on the

boy¶s finger, delicate green and gold wings fluttering, complementing the rich red and white

colouring on its face.




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Nobody had noticed that the small group had attracted an audience. The two mothers of

the children had noticed them talking to the old man, and were naturally concerned. They

were standing in the aisle, about to call to him when he noticed them, stood up, and bowed

gently, still keeping eye contact with them.

µGood morning, ladies. You have some lovely children here«.¶ he said with quiet

authority. Any objections they may have had to the old man speaking to their young children

evaporated as the women were entranced by the presence of the old man. While clearly well

into middle age, and somewhat substantial in frame, he had a strangely alluring, compelling

air about him. Both women locked on to his eyes, smiling coyly, perhaps a little flirtatiously.

Neither of them spoke, both seemingly lost for words, but the impasse was broken by the

coach starting to move once more, causing all to lose their balance.

All having returned to their seats, the coach continued its journey, while the old man

reclined in his seat, a contented look on his face. He resumed looking out of the window,

watching the world go by outside. Soon it was time for his stop. He rose and strode carefully

to the front of the coach, his presence notifying the driver of the need to stop. Disembarked

and standing in the sunshine, he felt the heat of the sun, and flicked the ends of the cloak over

his shoulders, so it was hanging down his back. It revealed a simple cotton tunic underneath,

and open toed sandals on his feet.

He strode purposefully across the road, and followed one of the laneways facing him,

passing by an Estate Agent¶s sign with a Sold marker on it. The laneway led to the shore.

Passing by slightly overgrown shrubbery and hedging plants, he soon found himself walking

on a pebble beach. He looked out to sea, admiring the tree-lined harbour and the small tree

adorned island slightly to the right of centre. The tide was high and there were no signs of

life, making the whole scene feel serene. Suddenly there was a small disturbance in the water,

and the old man found himself looking for the cause. Three small canine-like heads appeared




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in the water, not twenty feet from the shore, frolicking. The seals, whiskers twitching, hurried

to shore. By the time they had waddled their way out of the water, the old man had sat down

at the waterline, waiting for them. As expected, they came to a halt beside him, and greeted

him like an old friend.

Before long, the conversation had ended. The old man stood up, using his strange cane for

support, and turned his gaze inland. Directly in front of him was a large house, built on a

rocky outcrop, about forty feet away. Part of the house was entirely glazed, affording its

occupants a generous view out over the harbour. The land between the shore and the house

had not been tended in some time, the shrubs overgrown and the lawn a grassy meadow,

subdivided by a stone path and steps from top to bottom. Following a brief look back toward

the shore, the old man started on the path up toward the house, using his cane to hold off the

invading shrubbery.

At the top of the outcrop, he moved to his right and entered an area of what looked like

solidified lava, populated primarily by gorse bushes. He picked his way carefully among the

thorny bushes, and then stopped suddenly, looking down at the ground. In front of him was

an almost circular area of smooth glass-like lava. It was greenish in colour and looked

opaque. Kneeling down, the old man put his eye to the ground, as if trying to look through

the ground. He snorted with satisfaction, and stood up, clearly pleased with his work. He then

pressed his cane on the ground and twisted it, waiting for a faint cracking sound. Moving

around the circular area, he repeated the action with the stick, until he had performed a full

revolution.

His job clearly done, the old man relaxed as he made his way down the path toward the

shore once more. He sat on the wall between the beach and the property this time,

contemplating what came to cause his visit to this particular piece of rockery. The legend had

long been forgotten, but it was now time for it to be reawakened.




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1. The Hunt

M on (Anglesey), North Wales, 1179AD

The rain was teeming early in the afternoon; the dark grey sky and the low and angry

clouds indicated that there would be no let up in the weather anytime soon. Many of the fields

in the area were flooded due to the week-long downpour, which had also impacted upon the

plans of the army now camped there. A lone commander braved the torrent as he walked

around the camp, assessing their readiness for battle.

The sixty or so tents were holding firm in the stiff breeze, and holding out most of the

driving rain, which allowed the army to get a decent night¶s sleep after the long march the

day before. A flag bearing the Order¶s colours flapped forlornly in the rain, still mounted on

the Christian cross in the centre of the camp. As he entered his tent, the commander pulled at

the chain mail armour he was wearing. It had grown very heavy over the months of the

campaign, and the surcoat that covered his armour had grown tatty. The Order¶s colours, the

original rich cobalt blue cross on front and back had now faded to pale lavender grey, which

also mirrored the recent history of the Order of St Augustine, and the humour of their leaders

over the last six months.

The morale of the army had been waning after the many battles fought over the last six

weeks, and the majority of the Order¶s horses had succumbed to lameness due to the weather

and the oversupply of rich grass. Many were eager for an end to their campaign, so they

could return to their farms and their families, who had suffered severe hardship when their

grown men had been pressed into action against their will. The knights, mainly minor nobles,

had volunteered, having been recruited into the Order due to their skills or for their ability to

bring footmen and infantry to the cause. The Bishops and clergy had actively recruited




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Christian armies in order to enforce the doctrine of the Holy Roman Catholic Church among

the masses, and were prepared to use whatever means at their disposal, including offering

eternal salvation and inclusion in crusades to the Holy Land to those who fought and brought

knights and men. As with all walks of life, some volunteers were more committed than

others, some more zealous than others.

The commander, now joined by his aide, then exited the tent to check if the men had been

mobilised to commence the battle once prayers were finished, and waited outside to listen to

the comforting lines of their battle hymn being chanted;

Y ou shall cross the barren desert, but you shall not die of thirst

Y ou shall wander far in safety though you do not know the way

Y ou shall speak your words in foreign lands, all will understand

Y ou shall see the face of God and live

Be not afraid, I go before you always

Come follow me and I will give you rest

If you pass through raging waters in the sea you shall not drown

If you walk amid the burning flames, you shall not be harmed

If you stand before the power of hell and death is at your side

Know that I am with you through it all

A grim smile starting to broaden on his face, the commander then turned to the rear of the

camp. Where the main camp was dark and drenched, this section was surrounded by flaming

torches and, though it was raining, it felt warm. That was due to the one lone occupant of this




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area. The main troops were terrified to enter this area, but the commander was relaxed as he

approached. He had sufficient leverage to ensure his safety.

****

In the meantime, things were not going so well in the opposing camp. An argument had

started in a small tower of a rustic stone house on the western island of Mon, a place that

would soon become known as Holy Island. It was among two men, both simply dressed with

dark cloaks but who seemed to occupy the entire room with their personalities, such was the

intensity of their feelings. The taller one, a man who looked about fifty, with thinning grey

hair and soft careworn features, was known as Cathbad. He had a reassuring hand on the

other man¶s shoulder. The other man, Lochru, was much shorter, and looked younger, with a

square face on broad shoulders. His pudding bowl haircut gave him the look of a youthful

monk; such a comparison guaranteed to draw gales of laughter from the wearer. Lochru and

Cathbad, though, were at odds.

µYou saw the old hag at the river, Cathbad,¶ Lochru said loudly, concern written on the

lines on his young face. µYou know what this means?¶

µYes, of course¶, Cathbad sighed, conflicted. µBut I know she is with us this time.

Remember, she said the gods will favour us today.¶

µBut Morrigan is only interested in blood ± the more of it spilt the better,¶ urged Lochru.

µShe is loyal to nobody other than herself, and the fewer of our people that get in her way the

better.«¶ he trailed off and looked out the window of the tower room. He peered through the

pelting rain at the advancing troops of the Christian army in the distance, approaching the

bridge.




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He could just make out the blackening horde through the smoke from the many camps that

had been set up by the clans and tribes that were also running from the Order¶s armies. There

were at least five thousand people gathered on the small basalt rock formation jutting out on

the edge of the sea. The majority of them were Welsh and Irish Celts, some Scots, some Old

Saxon tribes that still resisted the advancing imposition of the Catholic Church. Of them,

there were no more than eight hundred men of fighting age, the rest being infirm, or women

and children. There were no defences to hold back the Order¶s army ± once they crossed the

bridge to the Island, there was little of the landscape that could be used to defend the

occupants. Cathbad had refused to let them burn the bridge as they could cross to the island at

low tide regardless.

µWe must prepare ourselves, Lochru,¶ Cathbad suggested, indicating toward the haggard

crowd below them who had committed their future and protection to the two men. µWe have

a formidable task ahead of us. We have to protect our peoples and will need to have our wits

about us.¶

µAh«« I think we will need your water tricks shortly. Can you see what they have«?¶

Lochru commented, as he was looking out the eastward pointing window.

µGod of Gods, Spirit of Dagda, I thought they had killed them all! Now they have one as a

pet?¶

It was not just Lochru and Cathbad that had turned their heads to look in the direction of

the approaching armies. The gentle hum of noise from the camps outside had suddenly gone

quiet as all had turned to look in the air above the armies.

About fifty feet above the ground, it flew over the bridge toward the camp. Its wings, dark

green or black depending on the light, were bat-like with two-toed talons at the bend, and

were nearly touching the ground with each flap, so large was the dragon. It was an

immaculate specimen, in excess of thirty feet long, with one single row of spines from head




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to tail, twin crimson forward-pointing horns on the head that looked like they could spear an

elephant, sharp angular red coloured eyes over the massive open jaws, armed with rows of

sharp teeth. The four powerful legs ended in impressive four-toed talons. The tail looked like

it had been honed on a sword-maker¶s grindstone, so sharp was it. Most magnificent was the

sheer grace with which it opened its mouth and let flow a stream of white gold flames that

carried a further thirty feet or more.

µThat was Arthur¶s beast, Gortaeus,¶ Cathbad called over the screams of panic below, as

he reached for his talismans and his divining willows. µI was sure he remained with Arthur¶s

family when he was taken to Avalon. What sort of hold on him do they have, to get the beast

to obey them? Lochru?¶ Cathbad turned to his friend, as he had not replied to him, and saw

the furrow of worry on his brow.

Lochru turned to him with a look of resignation on his face, holding his favoured ogham

stone that had become his constant companion during their battles over the last few months.

µI will be killed today, my friend. I will help you until it happens. Thank you for your

kindness and companionship, until we meet again.¶

µDon¶t let it be eight hundred years again until next time; my life will be tedious without

your company,¶ Cathbad replied, embracing him tightly. They then both simultaneously

closed their eyes and held their talismans in their hands, as the dragon flew overhead bringing

a stream of white gold flames bearing down on their camp.

****

The Order leader calmly supervised the proceedings using an eye piece that allowed him a

magnified view of the scene. He was looking at what looked like an inferno covering the

whole island, but looked concerned. Where the flames were dying off, it became apparent






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for many generations, but now and all his efforts to find William had resulted in abject

failure, leaving him a slave to the Order. As the combination of fear and anger rose,

Gortaeus¶s bile erupted. The flames from his mouth grew further, his size also growing

correspondingly, his facial features, horns and spines also becoming more pronounced.

****

Cathbad and Lochru were still suspended in mid-air in the room. Their eyes remaining

closed, they continued to chant. Lochru continued to finger his stone talisman

subconsciously. Neither noticed the two Order soldiers enter the room. The first man stood

behind Cathbad, while the second approached Lochru to the front. Nodding in unison, the

second man struck at Lochru¶s talisman hand with his sword, while the first came at

Cathbad¶s head with his. On strike, Lochru¶s severed hand fell to the floor with his talisman

stone falling loose, however the first man¶s sword broke in two upon hitting Cathbad¶s neck.

The chanting stopped immediately, Lochru falling forward in pain, only to present his

exposed neck as an inviting target to the Order soldier to finish his job.

Cathbad was less easy to deal with. He had given himself the insurance of a protection

charm prior to going into his chant to funnel the water to protect them from the dragon. Now

he was to apply his full attention to the two Order soldiers that had infiltrated the camp. He

raised his hands, called to the stone in the walls of the house for help, and several stones

came loose and shot at the two at such pace that they died instantly. Cathbad then gathered

himself and walked slowly from the room.

Down in the camp, panic started to rise. They had seen the veil of water that was

protecting them drop, and immediately looked toward the tower room that housed the druids.




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They had also seen Cathbad deal with the two intruders, but seeing the fog beginning to clear,

and watching the dragon circling, they had reason to be fearful.

As Cathbad strode down from the tower room to talk with the clan chieftains, the old hag

he had seen at the river earlier was walking toward him, with a stride that belied her apparent

years. As he watched her approach, he could see the transformation. Her face and features

grew younger with each stride, long grey hair turning into vibrant red, her grey tattered rags

into a deep green velour full-length dress and cloak with intricate gold embroidery on it. The

fitted part of the torso of her cloak showed her to be slender and tall. She slowed as she came

to Cathbad.

µTo what do we owe this honour, Phantom Queen?¶ Cathbad enquired with a level of

politeness and formality he used rarely, before adding; µI do not believe that we need your

talents today¶.

Smiling wryly, Morrigan answered him; µI feel today is a good day for my, as you say,

talents. As you know, my learned friend, it is not in my interests to allow these«¶ she paused

as she indicated toward the Christians advancing over the bridge, µpeople to run the lives of

my friends and comrades. I also see that you have lost your friend. That was a little foolish,

wasn¶t it?¶

Cathbad looked at her angrily; µStay away!¶

They were both interrupted as a hail of arrows came through the thinning fog and all had

to dive for cover. The Dragon had also by this stage discovered that he could burn off the fog

to get a better view of his prey.

Morrigan turned to Cathbad and asked; µdragon or army? Please let me have the army.¶

µMorrigan, if you want to make yourself useful, deal with the dragon. It may help us save

a few lives,¶ Cathbad sighed with resignation.




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She smiled broadly. µLet it be so,¶ and Cathbad watched the war mask descend over her

face. The whites of her eyes turned the colour of blood, the purple veins rose on her head and

cheeks, and the hands that she had brought up to her face now contained inordinately long

green and gold nails that matched her dress. She turned her back on Cathbad and rose swiftly

into the air, the drapes on her cloak seeming to act like wings.

****

The Order leader and his aide were now looking concerned. They had seen Lochru fall but

also knew their men would not return. They had said a quick prayer for their souls, confident

they would have gone straight to Heaven for their heroic deeds. This initial euphoria of

seeing the veil of water fall, and their archers launching the first volley of arrows into the

camp had died the instant they spotted Morrigan rising into the skies to face the dragon.

As he was surveying the scene through his looking glass, trying to focus on his target

through the persistent rain, the leader could see what looked like a small cloud rising from the

enemy camp. He watched with fascination until it dawned on him what the cloud was. With

panic rising in his eyes, he screamed to the men to take cover. He could not help but continue

to watch the approaching cloud of arrows ± it seemed that all the salvoes that they had fired

to the camp were being returned, with interest. He did not look at the ensuing pandemonium

among the troops as they fought among each other for shields and the little cover available.

He was still looking as he saw the cloud of arrows split up and each individual arrow seemed

to seek out their own prey. The leader blessed himself as he identified the arrow that was

destined for him, until it pierced his chain mail armour and struck him in the heart.

****




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Gortaeus had watched the cloud of arrows that Cathbad had gathered from those fired at

them, redirected and launched back toward the Christians. He recalled growing up in Eastern

Europe and hearing about the power of druids and how they had the ability to call on all

natural things for help in times of peril. Arrows, being made largely from willow and ash,

which were a favourite of druids, were easily controlled. Suddenly he had other more

pressing issues to concern him. As he had been gliding around burning off the fog, he had not

noticed Morrigan rising to meet him in combat. Just in time he spotted the huge wall of tidal

wave that was about to strike him. He swerved, banked and with one huge flap of his wings,

rose vertically to avoid the water, then turned to find his foe.

She was not hiding from him. She was standing, it seemed on thin air, green dress and

cloak billowing, red hair flowing, with what seemed to be a shadow of a large black feathered

bird behind her. Not recognising her, but sure she was the cause of the attempt on him, he let

her have a short blast of fire from his mouth. His foe raised her right hand and seemed to

summon the flame into her palm, transferred to her left hand and threw back at him with a

deft flick of her elbow.

Gortaeus easily dodged the fireball but, confused by what had just happened, swept away

from the Morrigan while he tried to think of a way to defeat her. While he pulled away he felt

himself being struck to the rear by rocks. He turned about again and saw the Morrigan casting

her hand back toward the island and pulling rocks out of the ground to fling at him. As the

next rock came toward him, he easily shattered it with a blast of fire. Getting annoyed, he

aimed another blast of fire at the Morrigan - this time he felt she had difficulty dealing with

it, but regardless it did not hurt her.

While Gortaeus was wondering who woman was, and how she had the power to raise

rocks from the earth without touching, how she could collect and return his fire, he had not




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noticed that he himself was undergoing changes. As he became more angry or fearful, he

grew in size, but his spine and horns and also his flame grew exponentially. Many years ago,

his first master Arminius of Macedonia had told him of many legends of the Druids and the

Celtic Gods, one of which was Morrigan or The Phantom Queen, or otherwise known as the

Celtic God of War. He did not know what he had done to incur her wrath, but more

importantly he had to find a way to defeat her.

Flying higher, Gortaeus headed to sea, to reduce the amount of harm that could come to

him from the rocks thrown by Morrigan. She invariably followed, with what looked like the

shadow of a raven enveloping her. As she conjured up spells to fling the rocks or raise the

water, these also had an effect on her body. The efforts were reflected in the veins on her

face, the deepening crimson of her eyes and the twisting of the nails on her hands; she

seemed to wither and age with the effort of her spells.

As she continued to follow him, she spotted a fishing boat pulling into harbour. She

pointed her hands down toward the boat and lifted it toward her. As the fishermen fell from

the boat into the water along with the nets and other loose tackle, Morrigan dismantled the

boat from a distance with waves from her fingers, holding them in the air beside her, giving

her a number of large pieces of wood, which she subsequently shot at Gortaeus like darts.

The dragon was forced to duck and weave to avoid the flying wood, but there were too many.

He was struck in the ribs by one causing severe pain. Another nearly struck him in the neck,

but he turned it into ashes before it hit with a well-aimed blast of fire.

His anger rising further, Gortaeus went into attack. He felt his spines stretch like a dose of

prickly heat as he unleashed a furious blast of flame that enveloped his enemy. He was

convinced he had eliminated her, but when the flames cleared, she seemed relatively

unscathed, save for what looked like smoke emanating from the raven shadow behind her. He

had her on the run! Morrigan took off at incredible speed to sea, heading southwest,




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travelling like a ghost, with no apparent means of flight. Gortaeus followed comfortably, his

wings giving him excellent purchase in the air, firing regular blasts at her, aiming more

toward the raven shadow behind her as this seemed to give her the ability to fly.

Ten minutes later, he thought he had done it. The last blast had gotten hold on the raven

shadow, which seemed to be smoking and shrinking rapidly, and it looked like the Morrigan

knew it was struggling to keep her in the air. He was not expecting what happened next. The

Morrigan turned to look at him, winked, looked up toward the clouds, reached up and

grabbed what looked like a spear made of ice. She threw it straight at him, but as Gortaeus

was in shock over the wink, he was not ready for the ice spear, which struck and penetrated

his left wing, leaving a small tear in his hide covering. She was challenging him!

As Gortaeus recollected himself, having decided the small hole in his wing would not hold

him back too much, he turned just in time to see Morrigan disappear. The next instant he saw

what looked like a large fish falling toward the sea. Then all was quiet, and he saw land in the

horizon, which he believed was Hibernia, home of the Celts. As he was thinking what the

future held for him, what would become of his master, how long it would take for his wing to

heal, and he suddenly had a feeling of dread. He had good reason. A wall of water was rising

from the sea to meet him. It seemed to be in the shape of a fish, but also appeared to have the

face of a fish, but with the detail of her eyes, nose and mouth formed in the slate grey mass of

water. There was far too much water there for him to burn off, so it was his turn to flee. The

wall of water blocked his route to land, so he headed south as full speed. He also tried to gain

height as he flew, in order to make it more difficult for the Morrigan to reach him with her

tidal weapon.

Try as he might, he was struck numerous times by the water, each hit weakening him

further. He continued to try to get to dry land, in order to recharge and have a fighting chance

where his primary weapon, his flames, would be effective. He looked at the latest wave, the






18

flew toward Gortaeus, who launched a huge blast of flames toward them. The sand and rocks

melted into a wall of glass, while the trees were incinerated. As the Morrigan was raising

another rock to throw, the dragon blasted it with his flame while she held it in the air over her

head, with the added benefit on some molten rock dripping on her. This only served to anger

her more, her eyes blazing scarlet red. She looked around the rocks nearby and selected one

she liked. With a wave of her hand, she stripped back a layer of rock to expose a seam of iron

ore.

Reaching into the iron ore, the Morrigan then pulled what appeared to be two perfectly

worked iron spears from it and turned to face Gortaeus again. With what looked like grim

pleasure, she let go of one of the spears, and it streaked toward him. He was slow to react due

to tiredness, but rose while simultaneously trying to melt the spear with his flame. It did not

work in time. The spear struck under his front right leg, split the ribcage and lung and hit his

heart. He was mortally wounded.

Falling heavily to the ground, Gortaeus knew he was doomed. He could feel the blood

flowing from his wound, the iron spear snapping as he landed. All he could think of was what

punishment his master would suffer because he had failed his mission. He looked around at

his surroundings; the peaceful beach surrounded by the rocks and island across the water, and

felt this was not a bad place to die. Feeling the life ebb from him, he looked toward the victor.

Morrigan was smiling. Her normal countenance had returned, the vibrant red hair, the fine

pale features on her face, the dress and cloak were immaculate once again, and she was

walking up toward the stricken dragon. He could see her eyes were now a pale jade green.

µYou were a worthy opponent, Dragon¶, she spoke. µI have rarely had such a battle except

with the gods. I thank you¶.

As she leant forward to touch him, Gortaeus felt one last burst of anger rise. In an instant,

he raised his head from the ground, opened his mouth, and engulfed the Morrigan in one bite.




19

Five seconds later, the slain dragon started to vibrate, and a plume of smoke began to rise

from his body. The heat intensified, the body solidified, fossilising instantly, and then began

to glow, until it was close to white hot. The heat from the inferno burnt off the neighbouring

gorse and bushes, then caused the rock to melt, and the remains of the dragon started to sink

deep into the rock, the immediate rock turning into glass. Finally the inferno started to

subside when the dragon had sunk completely into the rock. The smoke eased off and the

molten rock closed over the body, sealing it off for what may be forever.

Then it was quiet.




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2. The Glass Cave

West Cork, Ireland, July 8th, 2007

The removal truck had arrived at last. It was three hours late, and it was getting dark. The

sun had already set, but the light still reflected off the light amber-orange clouds, with a half

moon making an appearance from behind the occasional scudding cloud. This meant there

was still a decent amount of light, which meant that everybody was going to be unpacking

late into the night. As the removal men were hauling boxes and furniture out of the truck, a

young boy of about fifteen, with long wavy dark hair, and piercing grey eyes under dark

brows, parked himself on one of the sofas that had just been taken out of the truck and placed

on the ground. He had thrown his feet up over the side of the sofa, and was becoming

engrossed with his latest digital toy.

µAlex Keyes, will you please stop messing with your flaming Playstation, and give us a

hand here,¶ yelled his mother, Maria, a tall slim woman in her late thirties. µMatt, that box

goes into the kitchen.¶

µBut it has master bedroom written on it!¶ countered Matt. Matt was tired. He had been up

at six that morning packing boxes and had also helped the removal men pack the truck, as

they had arrived one man light and would not have made it in time otherwise. Although of

medium height, his powerful build and former years spent as a rugby player meant he was

very capable of carrying great weights, but he was now just turned forty-three and a bit unfit,

so the muscles were beginning to ache.

µJust do what you¶re told!¶ Maria returned. Matt turned back down the hall and headed for

the kitchen, muttering about having wasted their time writing on boxes. µWhere¶s Hannah? I

haven¶t seen her in half an hour.¶




21

µCheck around the front, Maria. She was wandering off that way in a bit of a snot,' Matt

called back.

µGo get her, Matt. She is not going to get out of helping us.¶

Matt dropped the box with master bedroom written on it in the kitchen, went out the back

door, not yet knowing where the keys were for the front door, and walked about the front of

the house. As he rounded the corner, his attention was caught by the view down the garden to

the sea; beyond the small group of palm trees, his view was distracted by the breathtaking

sight of the rocky outcrop, beyond which lay a small tree-lined harbour, a small island almost

in the centre. µI hope I never get bored with that view,¶ he whispered to himself, as he spotted

Hannah sitting on the steps halfway down the garden past the front of the house, and went

down to her. She was hunched forward on the step, her arms clenched about her knees, and

her waist length auburn-blond hair covering her face.

µI want to go live with Granny!¶ Hannah wept as she heard her dad coming down the steps

to her.

µYour mum and I have told you many times already, Hannah,¶ Matt said quietly. µWe did

this to give us all a better quality of life, look around you,¶ indicating the scenery and the

large five bedroom house on five acres that was now their home. It was an imposing house

with a fully glazed gable end where the living room overlooked the water, and was built on

the edge of a rocky outcrop, with a drop of ten feet of rock face to a small grassy incline

down to the sandy beach only forty feet away.

µBut I was happy in the city, Dad, and now you have taken all my friends away from me. I

hate both of you!¶

Matt sat down and put his arm over her shoulder. µWe can have your friends down over

the school holidays, I said.¶




22

µThat¶s not the same,¶ Hannah mumbled. They both went quiet for a couple of minutes,

which they watched two grey seals frolic in the water near the shore, not more than thirty feet

from where they sat. It was as if they were putting on a show for them. Hannah could not tell

her dad about the real reason for her unhappiness. The most beautiful, the kindest boy in her

class in her old school had just started to notice her before the summer break, and she would

never see or kiss him again. She was heartbroken, knowing she would never be happy again,

not convinced if she would ever forgive them.

µYou will make loads of new friends in your new school in September. Remember you

will be able to bring friends over and go visiting ± it is so much safer here,¶ Matt reassured

his daughter.

µBut what about my dance and music classes? And is there a cinema in this hole? We are

fifty miles from anywhere, for crying out loud!¶ Hannah ranted.

µCalm down, Hannah, and less of that language,¶ Matt advised her. µWe have countryside,

fishing, swimming in our front garden, horse riding, and loads of things to do. Now come on

and give us a hand with the boxes.¶

Hannah pulled the sleeve of her jumper over her hand, wiped her tear strewn face on it,

and turned to follow her dad back toward the house. As she swept the hair from in front of

her face to tie it into a ponytail, her features revealed a slim face with high cheekbones, slim

shoulders and a narrow waist and hips. Her green eyes were puffy from the tears and her lips

pouty from crying.

µYou are sixteen years old, Hannah. Will you ever stop wiping your nose on your sleeve?¶

her dad had not missed her bad habit.

Alex was still hammering away at his PSP when Hannah reappeared to help with the

unpacking. He looked up and smiled at her, but she glared back.




23

µLook at that lazy toad!¶ Hannah objected when directed at a box with her name written on

it.

µAlex!¶ his mum shouted.

Alex hopped off the sofa, slotted the PSP into the thigh pocket of his combats, stuck his

tongue out at his sister, and picked up a box. Although he was more than a year younger than

his sister, he was tall and well-built, and people regularly mistook them for twins. Hannah

despised him for his lackadaisical attitude toward her plight since everything seemed to come

so easily for him. He had been constantly surrounded by admiring girls at school, but quite

contentedly ignored them, passing on their amorous advances. The Phys Ed teacher had also

made him to join the rugby team, the athletic team and football team, as he had a natural

power and athleticism that belied his large build, having won most of the events in the school

sports day without even trying, but he showed less interest than his talent promised.

It took until late in the night to get the truck unpacked. It required a car trip into

Glengarriff village by Maria to rustle up a fish and chip supper for her family and the

removal men, who had been trying to escape without carrying the furniture into the house.

Maria was in better humour as they all sat together on the furniture that was scattered in the

back yard.

µTypical men,¶ she laughed as they were stuffing their faces. µOrnery when hungry!¶

Matt looked up with his mouth full. µAn army marches on its stomach!¶ he smiled back at

her. He was completely at ease with Maria¶s taunts and could ignore them happily. He would

sleep well that night, though.

****

S hannon, Ireland




24

µWhen will these idiots leave us alone?¶ Tom Mann growled to his superior officer,

Assistant Director Hugh Spitz, while pacing backwards and forwards and looking out of

Spitz¶s office window. µBunch of tree hugging pinko lefties! I love that description ± one of

the Irish politicians said it ± we could do with more of his type Stateside, Sir.¶ Mann looked

like a typical CIA agent out of the movies ± over six foot two, lean but powerfully built, the

result of his Olympics swimming training, square jaw and tight haircut ± not the sort of guy

you messed with.

µWe could do with a few more of his type here at the moment,¶ Spitz replied, twirling his

gold Cross pen through his fingers, as he scanned through the text on his computer screen.

µWe got a mention in the government meeting this morning, and the press are all over it.

µExtraordinary Rendition¶ they are calling it. They still think that we are bringing in Al Qaeda

suspects to torture here.¶ Spitz looked like another tough cookie. Like Mann, he was an ex-

marine ± smaller, slimmer ± but he held himself taut, constantly on edge. He had long ago

seen most of his hair washed down the shower plughole, and now shaved the little that

remained.

Mann turned to look out the window of their second floor office toward the protestors that

had camped out at the boundary of the airport that was adjacent to their compound. He was

constantly amazed that they seemed impervious to the steady drizzle that seemed to be a

regular feature of Irish weather, and that had the uncanny ability to seep through to his very

bones. The protestors were primarily women, some dreadlocked hippy types, setting up a

large tent on the triangular grass open area to indicate that they intended to be about for a

while. They had placards and banners tied to the boundary fencing with various slogans:

µYanks out¶, µNo Extraordinary Rendition¶, µKidnappers¶, read the polite ones. Mann had an

uneasy feeling as he looked a two people in the group that looked like they did not belong.

They were casually dressed, were walking about independently of each other, but seemed to




25

have no interest in what was going on in the camp. He also sensed that the two were

communicating with each other, although they were some distance apart. It was most odd.

µWould they be more upset if they knew what we are really doing here, Boss?¶ Mann

offered, coming around to stand behind Spitz to read the contents of the screen.

µAbsolutely! Orders are that under no circumstances is anybody outside to find out what

we are doing here. And that comes from the absolute top. If everybody else thinks the USA is

illegally capturing Al Qaeda suspects and bringing them through Shannon to Guantanamo,

then that suits us.¶

µWe can get away with looking suitably guilty when their press catch us, then. Did the

Prez really sign off on this?¶ Mann asked.

µYep. Excluding here, there are no more than six people on the outside who know about

this programme,¶ was the reply from his boss. He hit the print button on his computer,

starting the nearby printer clattering as it churned out the report for the meeting they were

about to sit down to with their security detail.

Mann was happy with life at the moment. Having joined the Navy Seals via the marines

following his Olympics silver medal, he had been co-opted into the CIA ten years ago this

week, due to his so-called µunusual talents¶. After five years in a Special Investigations Team

in the Nevada Desert, known to others as Area Fifty One, he had been asked to join a team

setting up a special project in Ireland, just over four years ago. He had the chance to move to

Ireland with his wife and two kids and have as close to a normal life as possible. Living in

Area Fifty One did not allow much private space or social life, nor offer many opportunities

for raising their kids.

Spitz was not as happy to be in Ireland, however. As Deputy Director of the CIA, he still

held ambitions of further promotion, and heading up a small project in the back of beyond did

not strike him as the best career path. The Director had specified to him that he had been




26

chosen on Presidential Order, but was hoping that this was not just the Director trying to

make him feel less upset with the move. He could not deny, however, that they were making

progress, but was still concerned about how the results of their project would finally be

applied.

Spitz looked up at Mann, and saw that they were both thinking the same thing.

µWhat happens with these kids when we are done with them, boss?¶ Mann asked.

µHopefully nothing. Hopefully they will be able to live out their lives as normally as us. I

don¶t like the alternative,¶ Spitz did not look entirely convinced himself with what he had told

his project manager.

Mann knew what he meant as he turned to look out the window again. Prior to setting up

this project, the majority of the kids that they had tracked either disappeared or met an

untimely end. He looked at the two suspicious people down at the protestors¶ camp,

wondering what was so odd about them. All his years of training did not help figure out what

was different about them; they did not appear to be military, and if they were press, they

would be closer as they tended to club together in situations like this. It was his sixth sense

that told him there was something wrong about them. Then he saw both turn to look directly

at him ± at least Mann thought so ± until he recalled that the glass windows were one-way, so

he was not visible to them.

****

The following morning Alex was first out of bed as usual. Unlike his sister and his

parents, he rarely needed more than six hours sleep. This frequently led to trouble for him

though, as he had an adventurous - his parents would call fearless - streak in him which had

led him to be quite well known in the local Accident and Emergency Department in Cork. A




27

little disoriented with waking up in a strange house, he made his way to the kitchen to be

greeted by piles of unopened boxes. He rummaged about and located the cereal box in the

depths on the boxes, milk in the fridge and, failing to find bowls, improvised with a saucepan.

The sun was shining outside in a clear cloudless sky, and the chill in the air had abated, so

Alex went outside to explore. He had not had the opportunity to have a proper look around on

the previous visits when they were viewing the house before they had bought it, as he had

never been alone. He strolled up to the top of the garden, making his way up the path through

overgrown Pitosporum, Viburnum and Buddlea bushes which, among others, had invaded the

walkway over the last year while the house had lain vacant. He looked around the centuries-

old fir trees that looked like they had always been there, ivy having climbed to the top of the

trees over the more recent decades. Following the boundary to the east, he discovered a little

gorse ± covered wilderness on what looked like lava flow, leading down to the water. He

admired the shape and texture of the rock as he strolled along, dodging the prickly gorse

bushes and trying to remember what he had been taught in school about the different types of

volcanic rock. He then happened on a most unusual piece of rock, and bent down on his

knees to look at it.

It was roughly circular in shape, probably twenty feet in diameter, and was immaculately

smooth. But the strangest thing was that it appeared to be opaque. Alex put his face to the

rock tried to peer through the greenish rock. He thought he could make out it was hollow

underneath, with light seeming to reflect from shapes and rocks deeper down. It looked for all

the world like somebody had laid a pane of slightly obscure glass over a cave.

Looking around to see if there was any way to get in, Alex then heard a familiar

interruption.

µAlex? House, now!¶ It was his mother as usual, calling for him from the back door of the

house. He stood up, annoyed with the interruption, but also aware of the consequences of




28

non-compliance. While turning to go back to the house, Alex resolved to revisit that strange

place again as soon as possible. As he came into the kitchen, he saw his mother at the sink

washing cups. He could smell the coffee percolator.

µMum, you washed those cups before we packed them, why do you have to wash them

again?¶ Alex was amazed about his mother¶s need for cleanliness and disinfection

everywhere.

µI won¶t dignify that with an answer, Alex. Now set the table before your dad comes in.¶

Alex heard industrious sounds coming from the en-suite shower down the house, and set the

table before going to look for Hannah.

After going into the spare room by accident, Alex quickly located Hannah¶s bedroom and

tried the door handle. Unexpectedly it was unlocked ± Hannah had recently developed the

habit of locking her door to prevent unauthorised midnight visits from him when he had a

nightmare or in latter years to discuss their frequent parent-free escapades ± so he opened the

door quietly and entered.

µHannah? Are you up?¶ He called to the mound in the bed.

µGo away,¶ was the muffled response. She did not move, and as usual she was completely

hidden under the covers.

µHannah, I think I found a cave outside. We have to check it out.¶ The mound moved

surprisingly quickly. Hannah was usually up for an adventure, but usually made sure that

Alex was the one in trouble if they got caught. One of the benefits of being the older sister,

she constantly maintained.

µWhere is it? What is it like?¶

Alex smiled. Another adventure was about to begin.

The whole family sat down to a breakfast of bacon and eggs, including Alex, who had

already eaten, but who would heartily eat again. Conversation was minimal, as most were




29

still exhausted from the exertions of the previous night. Alex was sprightly as usual, but had

learned to curb his enthusiasm when he could see others were not up to it. He devoured the

contents of his plate, along with three slices of some excellent brown soda bread his mother

had found in the village shop the previous evening.

µWhat do you want to do today, kids?¶ Matt asked.

µNot much,¶ Hannah replied, looking at Alex with a glint in her eye. µWe were thinking of

having a look around the garden and just hanging out. We thought you wouldn¶t be up to

much with unpacking and whatever.¶

µThat sounds like a great idea, Hannah,¶ Maria piped up, looking relieved. She looked at

Matt, as if to thank him for having a word with Hannah, as it seemed like her mood was far

better today, and Matt nodded, happy to accept any praise that was coming in his direction,

earned or otherwise.

µI am back to work next Monday,¶ Matt reminded everybody, suddenly thinking of the

engineering job he had escaped from for the last eight days, and the slight dread at having to

return when his two weeks were up. µBut I will only be in the office two or three days a

week,¶ he continued. µThe guys should land this afternoon to sort out the broadband

connection.¶ He was pleased that the move had gone so well, and hoped to get everybody

settled in before he returned to work in six days, also hoping his plan to work from home two

or three days per week would run smoothly. He then started to think about what other

software he still had to load on the computer to be able to network with the office, and then

found himself daydreaming about the extra time he would have, avoiding the commute to and

from work.

µAnything we want to do before I go back to work, let me know,¶ he said to anybody who

was listening.






31

µWhat¶s this,¶ she asked as she snagged her trouser leg on something protruding out of the

smooth internal surface. She turned around to free her leg and found the offending item. It

looked like a ring, a gold band with what looked like a dark stone inlaid in it, partially sunk

into the rock wall. She could not make out the colour but thought it could be dark red.

With a little tugging, the ring came loose. Hannah held it up to the light and rubbed it with

her sleeve. She was right, it was dark red, a large single stone held in a gold band with

strange circular markings on it. Slipping it on to the ring finger on her left hand, Hannah held

it up for Alex to see. It fit quite snugly.

µPrevious owner must have had small hands,¶ Alex said, his attention just having been

caught by something else on the ground. µHow long has this been here?¶ He reached down

and picked up a small narrow leather strap holding a metal disc with some engraving on it.

The rear of the disc was shiny, possibly silver. Alex turned it over to try to make out the

etching on the disc.

µWhat do you think this is, Hannah?¶ he asked. Hannah looked closely at the disc, spit a

little saliva in it, and gave it a polish.

µLooks like it could be a dragon, a bit like those Chinese ones you see in the restaurant,¶

she said, giving it back to Alex who looked at the leather strap, confused.

µHow long has this been down here?¶ he asked. µThis feels and smells brand new, but it

must have been down here for years,¶ he said, smelling it again. It was strange, he was

thinking, looking around in the cave, wondering how it could have gotten in the cave and still

stay pristine for what must be hundreds of years, unmarked and fresh. Hannah had picked up

on her brother¶s sense of unease.

µIt¶s strange, isn¶t it? Creepy?¶ she said.

µNo,¶ replied Alex. µOdd, but I feel OK about this place. Now how are we going to get out

of here?¶




32

They were both stumped. The roof of the cave, which was their mode of entry, was about

twelve feet up. Neither Hannah nor Alex was particularly small, but climbing out was going

to be a challenge. It was obvious there were no other ways in or out of the cave. Other than

the shelf area and the indentation opposite, there were very few other markings in the cave.

The walls and floor were very like the roof had been, dark glass-like, relatively smooth, but

with very little marking. Looking at each other, Alex and Hannah sat down.

µMum is going to be furious,¶ said Hannah. µUnless we can find a way out of here

ourselves.¶

Alex was still looking at the disc in wonder, rubbing the etching on the surface. He hung it

around his neck and turned to Hannah. µI know where there is some rope in the garage.¶

µNot much good to us here,¶ said Hannah, looking up. µYou spend all your time playing

Dungeons and Dragons on that PSP of yours ± you must know how to get us out of here,¶ she

added.

µDungeons and Dragons is so last year, it¶s Zelda these days,¶ Alex replied. µAnyway,

you¶re the gymnast. Now let¶s have a look.¶

He had already given up on the shelf as a way out as it was too low down, so turned to

look at the indentations at the opposite end of the cave. He inspected the long deep cut into

the side that was roughly diagonal, starting wide near the bottom and ending narrower toward

the top. More interesting were the pyramid type holes all the way along. Alex walked along

and looked at each of them, trying to figure out if he could get a foot or hand grip in each

hole.

µIf we act like this is a climbing wall, like the one dad brought us to at that holiday show

last year, we might be able to work our way up,¶ he said.

µBut I was useless at that, Alex,¶ said Hannah.




33

µIf one of us gets out, we will be OK, Hannah. Remember the rope in the garage,¶ he

assured her. µI don¶t want to call mum or dad ± they would kill us if they find out.¶

µI know,¶ Hannah agreed.

Alex was tall and powerfully built for his age, resulting in his being a popular pick for

both the school rugby and football team, but also resulted in expectations that exceeded his

maturity, which led to more than one story about his short temper being best avoided. He put

his hands in one of the higher holes and his left foot in one of the lower holes and, stretching

his body, held himself in the holes. He put his right foot in the next hole up, and then moved

his hands one by one into the next hole up. Carefully, he continued upwards, until he got to

the top and, arms shaking with the effort, swung over the top. Looking back at Hannah, he

called, µBack in a minute.¶

Five minutes later, Hannah too was out of the cave, being no stranger to rope or tree

climbing. Looking back into the cave carefully, she looked at the ring on her finger.

µWhat shall we say to Mum about these?¶ she asked Alex, waving her ring and pointing at

his chest, where he had hung the disc he had found. Alex looked at his chest to look at the

disc, but it was no longer there. He pulled on the neck of his tee shirt, to see if it had slipped

inside, but could not find it.

µI must have lost mine,¶ he said to Hannah, feeling at his chest. He felt a rough patch of

skin on the top of his chest near his neck, got a funny feeling, a strange tingle down his spine,

but said nothing to his sister. µMum would not have a clue if you had another ring, anyway,¶

he assured Hannah.

They made their way back to the house, elated by their adventure, discussing how to

introduce their discovery of the cave to their parents. As they made it back to the house, they

heard muffled noises down the hallway, coming from their parents¶ bedroom.




34

µMum? Dad?¶ Hannah called.

µThere in a minute, kids,' came the reply from their dad, followed by the sounds of their

parents giggling.

µI know exactly what they were doing. They¶re gross,¶ Hannah said to Alex, who was not

listening. He was rubbing the mark on his neck again, trying to figure out what had happened.

Alex paced his way down the corridor to his bathroom, locked the door, took off his tee

shirt and stood up to the mirror over the sink. He could make out the mark on his chest. A

small part of skin was raised and marginally proud of the rest. Looking closely at it, he had an

uncanny feeling that it looked like the dragon etching he had seen on the disc that he had lost.

Continuing to look at it in the mirror, it seemed for an instant to Alex like it has just glowed

or flashed at him. He shook his head as if to clear the thought from his mind, put his tee shirt

back on, and went back up the house, lost in thought.

Hannah was also having a moment with her ring in the kitchen. She had tried to slide it off

her finger to look at it more closely, but it seemed to be far tighter than before. She thought

her fingers must have swelled in the climb out of the cave. She put some washing-up liquid

on the ring to see if she could slide it off, but it did not budge. Drying her hands, she looked

more closely at the ring, which now looked sparkling. The red stone seemed to have different

shades through it, darker in the middle and lighter red to the outside. The band was also very

interesting. To the sides where the stone was inlaid, the series of interconnecting spirals

seemed to be endless. As she was tracing the spirals through once again with her fingernail,

she saw the red stone begin to glow.

Feeling a little lightheaded, she was interrupted by Alex coming into the kitchen. She

looked up quickly and put her hand down behind her back.




35

3. Discovery

West Cork, the following S unday

Neither Alex nor Hannah had spoken to each other about their discoveries during the last

week. Perhaps subconsciously guilty, they had busied themselves with getting their rooms in

order, and spent time with their parents prior to their dad returning to work.

During the past week, both were roped into cutting down a lot of the scrub brush and

willow trees that had invaded the lower half of the garden since the last family lived at the

house. Maria busied herself with pruning the shrubs and roses near the house, Matt was using

the chainsaw to tackle the larger trees, and Alex and Hannah were tasked with carrying off

the branches to prepare the bonfire. Shortly after lunch, Matt sat back on the top step leading

to the bottom garden, taking the mug of coffee that Maria had just offered him, admiring their

handiwork.

µWhat do you think, Love?¶ he asked Maria.

µLooks fantastic, Matt,¶ she replied, beaming. The place was starting to feel like home.

She had been a bit anxious about the move, not just for the kids, but also for herself, being so

isolated, and away from her own friends and support group. During the week, however, she

had located an equestrian centre and booked horse riding lessons for herself for during the

week, and for Hannah for after school. Matt was delighted to try out the local golf course,

which was less than a kilometre away, and Alex had also shown some interest and talent

when he went out for the first time two days previously. He was pleased that Alex had

enjoyed himself, albeit while attempting to create new bunkers in the course on two




36

occasions, with the size of the divots he took, and would need encouragement to slow down

his swing.

Matt stood up again and took in the scenery. He was still being caught unaware by the

sheer beauty and simplicity of the high tide coming up to cover the sand that would soon

reach their half-collapsed front wall, the small island to the right, and the tree lined harbour,

with the complete absence of proof of other human habitation. µLook at that view, Love¶, he

said, looking out to sea. Their front garden between the house and the sea was now more

open and no longer restricted the view. The sand on the beach only added to the feeling of

warmth he felt.

µI want to rebuild that wall on the coast when I have time,¶ Matt said to all. µI would like

to set up some sort of a patio area down on the coastline««what should we do with that

scrubland area?¶ he indicated as he turned to look at the area where the cave was located.

µDon¶t know,¶ said Alex. µHave not really had a look around there yet.¶

µShall we have a look around? See what we think?¶ Hannah asked.

µGreat idea,¶ Matt said. He turned to the others and beckoned to them to follow. Making

their way slightly uphill to the gorse area, Hannah looked at Alex, her eyebrows raised, as if

to ask what they should say or do. Alex shrugged, not knowing.

As they worked their way through the gorse area, they split up. There was more than an

acre of lava rock running from the side of the house down to the sea. Much of it was arid,

bare rock, the rest home to gorse and willow bushes, with some heathers. There was little of

anything else that would grow in this area.

As Maria was approaching the cave area, Hannah and Alex rushed ahead to intercept just

in case she did not notice it and fell in. They came on the cave simultaneously, and all

stopped to look in.

µWow!¶ said Alex.




37

µWhat is it?¶ asked Hannah.

µIt looks like a cave. Matt! Come here! Be careful kids, it looks deep.¶

µYeah, it does, Mum,¶ said Alex, peering into the cave, having lain down to look into it,

with just his head over the hole, hoping that their footprints would not be visible in the dust.

Thankfully it had rained since their visit to the cave, erasing any evidence.

When Matt caught up, there were now four people looking into the cave, saying nothing.

Alex was the first to speak.

µCan we get the ladder out of the garage, Dad? It should reach down,¶ he asked.

µGreat idea, Son,¶ Matt answered. Alex had not fallen far from the tree when it came to his

adventurous spirit. Matt and Alex headed back toward the house to fetch the ladder. They did

not speak to each other, Alex because he did not want to slip up on what he already knew,

Matt because he was thinking of his own childhood and the fun times he had, building tree

houses and occasionally falling out of them, or his favourite trick of surfing down the outside

of his own mother¶s conifer trees.

Matt and Alex returned shortly with the ladder. It was a lightweight aluminium ladder,

double extendable. They slid it into the cave easily, and Matt was the first to go down. Maria

held the ladder as Alex and Hannah were quick to follow, but decided not to go down herself,

being a little scared of heights.

µWhat caused this, Dad?¶ asked Alex.

µDon¶t know, Son,¶ he replied. µThe walls are like glass, which means that it must have

been very hot. May have been a meteorite, or a volcanic lava flow. I can¶t think of anything

else that would make that heat.¶

µLook at this,¶ Hannah said, pointing at the shelf that they had inspected previously. µIt

looks like dinosaur teeth.¶




38

Matt moved over to look more closely. µWhat are the chances a meteor could have hit a

dinosaur head on,¶ he laughed, looking around. Then he saw the markings opposite, making

out what looked like a tail imprint. µMay have been a dragon, lads!¶ he suggested with a

smile. They all laughed loudly.

****

S hannon, same time

The protestors were growing in numbers at the boundary fence. Mann was grumpy, and

this time it was not due to the wet drizzle that had returned to dampen his spirits again. He

was feeling uneasy about the security on the airport and that of their project. Watching the

different groups within the protestors¶ camp over the last week, he knew something was up.

He picked up the phone.

µBoss,¶ he said to Spitz. µSomething¶s up. Should I call security at the airport?¶

µGo ahead, Tom,¶ Spitz had been expecting this. µPut our security on alert as well.¶

µOk,¶ Mann agreed. He hung up on his boss and dialled security in his own building first.

They did not have long to wait. While a couple of protestors had been hanging a new

banner on the security fence, it appeared that they had used wire cutters on the fence at the

same time. It was excellent sleight of hand, as security had been watching at the same time,

and did not notice. Within seconds, about thirty people had breached the fence, and were

running toward the area where the unmarked Boeing 747 and DC10 were parked up.

Although the Airport security personnel were out immediately, only those in the patrol

cars got to the protestors before they got to the planes. The sheer numbers overran the

security staff, and eight made it through. Mann watched one grey haired woman, who must




39

have been old enough to be a grandmother, climbing a service vehicle and taking a domestic

hammer out to attack the nose of the 747.

As security were trying to get to her, he then saw two more climbing the personnel steps to

the rear of the DC10. He smiled at the amateurishness of the security staff. Then his phone

rang.

µBreach, Sir. Minus one, kitchen. What do you want us to do?¶ It was George Sullivan, his

head of security.

µIsolate and hold. Thanks George. Earpiece on, everybody,' Mann called into the Motorola

communications unit all the security personnel carried. He checked his Glock in his shoulder

holster and touched his left ankle to make sure his insurance was in place, then headed for the

emergency staircase, while fixing his communications piece to his ear.

µTalk to me George,¶ Mann said.

µNot in kitchen, pantry, ladies or gents. Must be in conference room. We have lock-down

past that,' came the reply.

µWell done. Make sure you have it surrounded. Are wireless and network connections shut

down?¶

µYep, straight away,¶ George came back on the earpiece.

Mann stopped at the landing of floor minus one, and hesitated. µJust in case,¶ he said to

himself, and carried on down to the next floor, drew his gun and looked down the corridor.

Hearing noises, he crept silently along the corridor, gun cocked. He was mentally noting the

position of the conference room above, trying to figure where they would come down if they

came down through the floor.

Then he heard a mechanical noise that was most familiar to him. It was the sound of the

safety coming off of a Walther PPK, one of his favourite guns, one that he owned, but was




40

not allowed to carry, his employers being wary of comparisons with fictional British Secret

Service agents.

µDammit, infra red,' he mouthed to himself as he dropped to the floor to avoid the bullets.

As he fell, he rolled to the side and returned fire, having calculated the line from the

trajectory of the previous bullets. He listened to the thump of one person falling, and then ran

to the opposite end of the corridor.

µGet into the conference room now, weapons ready,¶ he shouted to his earpiece. µGet

somebody to floor minus two, now,¶ he shouted, bursting through the fire doors and vaulting

the steps three at the time down to floor minus three. A hail of bullets met him as he made it

to the bottom. Mann sheltered behind a concrete pillar as he worked out a plan.

He reached down toward his insurance policy inside his left leg. He could not allow

intruders to compromise their project, whatever the cost. There were kids to be protected on

this floor. These were his instructions.

µGeorge, talk to me,¶ he called again to his head of security.

µBasement and minus one clear, floor minus two; one body, must have gone down.

Sensors say one more in building.¶ George was efficient.

Mann stood out, opened the doors into the corridor, and looked the remaining intruder in

the eye. In spite of the balaclava and the black combats, he could see it was one of the men he

had seen in the camp, and he was pointing what looked like an M16 automatic rifle at Mann,

but could not pull the trigger. Mann closed his eyes to avoid seeing him die, then turned his

back and walked away so he did not have to hear the screams nor have to see the man¶s body

as he fell to the ground.

µFloor minus two secure, George. Get a cleanup team up here,¶ Mann spoke quietly into

his earpiece. µDo your rounds and secure the perimeter.¶




41

µYessir,' George understood. He served with Mann in the Navy Seals, and was familiar

with his commanding officer¶s methods, not questioning what others would call exceedingly

strange.

µGet back to your rooms, now!¶ he shouted at three young faces that had appeared from

behind doorways down the corridor.

Mann headed to the elevator, inserted his key, and pressed basement and floor minus one

buttons simultaneously. The elevator went up to the floor below the basement, and opened.

Three security men with an array of weapons pointed at him were his welcome.

µStand down. It¶s fixed,¶ Mann said, looking over their shoulders, looking for Spitz, who

was not there. He made his way up three floors to Spitz¶s office, and saw he was on the

phone.

µYes, Minister. Thank you very much. Do you want me give you a draft wording for the

press release?.....yes Sir, I will have it with your office in ten minutes,' Spitz put the phone

down and motioned Mann in.

µI have it agreed with the Irish Government that those guys were part of the invasion of the

airport. They were shot because they were armed and we think they were terrorists hijacking

the peaceful demonstration,¶ Spitz said as he looked at Mann for his opinion.

µShould work, Sir,¶ Mann replied, still breathing hard more from the adrenalin of the

action than from running up and down the stairs.

µHow bad is the second body, George,¶ Spitz had called Mann¶s head of security. µGood,

thanks.¶ He put the phone down again.

µThe bodies are being moved to the 747 as we speak, and we will take scene photos there,¶

Spitz said. µWe will keep the bodies as suspected terrorists, but we have to copy our post

mortem to the Irish Coroner. It¶s done, Mann. Thanks.¶




42

µThank you, Boss,¶ Mann responded, relieved. µCan I walk through the school? Need to

calm down.¶

µSure, Tom. Remind yourself why we are doing this,¶ Spitz assured him, watching him

stroll off.

****

The following morning, Alex waited until his dad went to the city to get a different

software programme to help his computer network with his office and his home printer, and

until Hannah went down to the nearby equestrian centre with their mum for fittings and

familiarisation, before going into his dad¶s office and logging on to the internet.

Using the search engine, he filled in the name µdragon¶ and his address into the search bar

and hit enter, but the only entries that came back were the local Chinese restaurant, a martial

arts school and some recycling company. He felt displaced, without direction, not in control

of himself for the first time, not knowing what had happened to the disc on his chest. He tried

entering other combinations of words and searching for information, and found a lot of

amateur websites, with a variety of descriptions of dragons, histories and stories, but nothing

he felt that was remotely genuine. He searched for references to dragon amulets or

engravings, but got only references to computer games, so he gave up. He had just typed in

µWitch¶ and µRed Ring¶ into the search toolbar when he sensed Hannah looking over his

shoulder, a millisecond before she clouted him in the back of his head with the palm of her

hand.

µIs that what you think the ring is about, Toad?¶ she scolded him angrily, using her

favourite description for him that she knew he hated, and waiting however to see if anything




43

came up on the search before hitting him again. Hannah was about to abuse him further but

he stood firm and held his hand up as if to caution her.

µHannah, look at this. Tell me what you think,¶ he asked her, pulling off his tee shirt and

pointing to the mark on his chest.

µWhat sort of gross trick are you going to play on me now, Toad?¶ she was unaware Alex

was serious. µWow, what is that?¶

µI¶m not messing, Sis. I think I know what it is, but I need you to tell me what you think,¶

Alex said, looking anxious.

µDid you find that disc, Alex? This mark is the spitting image of it. How did that happen?¶

Hannah was intrigued. She rubbed the skin in fascination.

µIs it««..glowing?¶ she asked.

Alex suddenly had a feeling of indigestion or reflux in his throat. Trying to burp to clear

the feeling, he suddenly coughed.

µThat¶s better,¶ he said.

µWhat have you done?¶ Hannah shouted at Alex. She was looking at the desk lampshade,

part of which was in flames. It was one of a pair that her mum had given her when they

moved, pale beige linen with wood carving, made from sustainable natural products, as

Hannah was determined to be ecologically friendly, but she did not like them and had given

them to her dad for his office. She threw the tea towel she had in her hand over it to smother

the flames.

µThe bulb must have set the shade on fire. How could I have done it?¶ Alex replied.

µIt was you, you git. When you coughed, I saw sparks or something coming out of your

mouth,¶ Hannah argued back, starting to doubt what she had just seen, and then went quiet

for a moment. Rather than embarrass herself, she decided to change the subject.




44

µAnyway, look at this. This is even stranger than you,¶ she showed him the ring that was

still stuck on her finger and tried to wriggle it loose, but it was obvious it was stuck fast.

µThat was loose when you put it on in the cave, Hannah,¶ he said, moving closer to look at

the ring. He tried to move it himself, but without success. As he was working it, he could

have sworn that the layers or red in the stone rippled. He squinted at it more closely.

µI am sure this is a witch¶s ring or something,¶ Alex said quietly, not knowing how

Hannah would take it, after her reaction to his internet search. µThey always wear things like

these in the movies.¶

Hannah was quiet. She had thought the same herself. She did not tell him about the strange

things that had happened to her during the week. She waited as Alex stroked the ring, hoping

that something would happen again with another person there, so she did not think she was

mad. They did not have long to wait.

As Alex was fiddling with the ring, Hannah had been thinking about the table lamp

incident, and how they would explain the charring on the shade and the tea towel, and that

she should have tried to blow the flames out instead, when a gust of wind blew through the

room. They both looked at each other in surprise, as the windows were closed and then,

hearing something strange beside them, turned to watch the lampshade knitting itself back

together.

Alex turned to his sister, with a worried look on his face.

µShould we tell Mum and Dad?¶ he asked. µWhat do we do now?¶

µNot yet,¶ Hannah replied. µI want to figure out how these things are happening first.¶

µYou mean it has happened before,¶ Alex asked curiously, picking up on her use of the

plural.

µYou remember Dad¶s toy yacht, that he spent weeks making with that balsa wood?¶ she

said.




45

µYou didn¶t!¶ Alex was concerned, as he knew their dad would go nuts.

µI stepped on it when I was trying to reach something in the spare room, and broke the

masts and some other stuff,¶ Hannah said quickly. µI panicked when I saw it, but now it is in

perfect condition. And look at this,¶ she said as she held her hand out toward the wooden

pencil on the desk. As Alex turned to look, he could see the pencil jump toward her hand.

µCool!¶ he said.

****

North Lakeshore Drive, Chicago

Carl Zabrosky had found a place to hide in a small copse of trees and shrubs, between the

road and Lake Michigan, but the three other kids chasing him had not yet given up. He

ducked his small frame down behind a laurel bush and waited. He was not particularly

frightened ± more so resigned. It was common to have Polish and Hungarian parentage in

Chicago, but that was not the reason he was being bullied. He was small for his fourteen

years also, but that was not the reason either.

It had been a tough start to his second high school in two months, having moved from the

opposite side of the city. He had tried to convince the Head that he did not start the fires in

the school, but she had not believed him, nor had his parents. All he knew was that things

happened when he was angry or scared, so now he tried to avoid trouble where possible.

The only thing was; other kids thought it was fun to chase him.

µI am sure I saw him go in here,¶ Carl could hear one of his hunters speak. He heard the

rustling about twenty feet away, and decided to climb the nearby chestnut tree. As he

clambered up, he heard the boys come closer and was more than fifteen feet up when he saw

them looking in the laurel he had been in earlier.




46

Sighing with relief, he clung tightly to the tree trunk, until a bluejay flew into the tree to

perch but, with the surprise of seeing Carl in the tree, shot off again cackling loudly.

µHe¶s in the tree!¶ came the inevitable shout. Carl had indeed been spotted. There followed

a barrage of small missiles, thrown by the boys on the ground, which did not bother him.

Until he was struck by a twelve inch branch. Having lost his grip on the trunk, Carl flailed his

arms about to try to grab a branch, but failed and fell, blacking out simultaneously.

When Carl came to, it was very bright. He thought he was in hospital, but then felt the

ground under him was very hard. Any there were a lot of people around him. As his eyes

adjusted to the light, he made out a badge on the jacket of the man nearest him. Chicago

Police Department. He was surrounded by cops.

µHow did you get up here, Son?¶ the nearest man asked. He was middle-aged, kindly

looking, like his Granddad.

µWhere am I?¶ asked Carl, confused.

µMaintenance platform on top of the Sears Tower. How did you get up here?¶ He was

more insistent this time. Carl followed him as indicated into the open plan maintenance room.

It was well-lit, but the sun was no longer hurting his eyes.

µI fell out of a tree on Lake Shore Drive, Sir. I don¶t know how I got up here. Someone

must have brought me here,¶ Carl replied, even more confused. The mention of Lake Shore

Drive seemed to register with the officer, and he reached for his radio.

µSir, I have found that boy. Lake Shore Drive. Yes. Top of Sears Tower. Yes Sir, you

heard it right. Yes««Yes, we will hold him here for you.¶

µYou have caused a bit of a stir in our Department, son,¶ the Officer¶s face had softened

again. µThere are some government people on their way to meet us here. They¶ll be here in a

few minutes. Need anything, water?¶




47

µPlease, Sir,¶ Carl answered, before asking; µWhat happened? All I remember was some

boys were throwing stuff at me and I fell out of a tree.¶

µThe boys will be ok, some second degree burns, but not serious.¶ The cop seemed to be

very interested in him. Looking around, Carl could make out seven other officers. Oddly,

they had their weapons drawn but seemed to be looking away, as if preparing for harm to

come from other directions. Strangely, he felt like he was being protected from something.

Carl could also see that the officer was not surprised that he did not query the burns the boys

suffered.

µI¶m Carl Zabrosky, Sir.¶ He was reluctant to have silence around him as it gave him time

to think, which could be dangerous.

µI know, Son. I¶m Sergeant Billy Sullivan. Look, the suits are here,¶ he added, seeing four

serious men in immaculate suits sweep into the room. µMake way, men,¶ Sullivan indicated to

his officers to allow the government people to approach him and the boy. The leader was tall

and athletically built.

µCarl, I¶m Tom Mann. Can I have a word with you in private?¶ Mann introduced himself.

µYes,¶ Carl said. Now he was feeling nervous.

Mann indicated to the Chicago P.D officers to clear the room. The other three men stood

back, surveying the scene.

µListen, Carl. Those boys think I am FBI or CIA, but that suits me. It makes them a little

scared of me.¶ Mann handed Carl a business card. It read Thomas Mann, Governor, De

Danann Institute for Gifted Children. There was a phone number on the card, but no address.

µCan I help you?¶ Carl asked.

µI met your parents today, Carl. We know you are a special kid, and you have been

enrolled in a new school where you will be with other kids like you.¶ Mann looked like he

knew a lot more than Carl.




48

µWhat do you know about me?¶ Carl was desperate to learn.

µI will tell you a bit more on the flight,¶ Mann told him, put his arm over his shoulder, and

they made their way out. As they were leaving, Carl was looking at the front page of a copy

on the Irish Times newspaper under his arm, with a headline referring to a terrorist attack on

an airport in Ireland, where two terrorists had been killed, and wondered why he was carrying

it with him in Chicago.

Carl may have had more to concern himself with if he had seen that Lake Shore Drive had

been closed while the coroner was dealing with three charred bodies in the copse where he

had fallen out of the tree.

****

West Cork, Ireland, mid August

Alex and Hannah had continued to explore their new found talents further, mainly by

playing pranks on each other. Alex had discovered he had the ability to cause a flame when

required, and had experimented with hilarious consequences. Hannah was able to control or

extinguish the flame, and was still working on moving objects with her mind. Most

interestingly, Alex, after one particularly successful prank, had found himself so elated and

relaxed, that he found he no longer had his feet on the floor. Somehow, he could float in the

air. But they had told neither of their parents, and were still reluctant to do so.

µHannah! Alex!¶ their mum was calling them for dinner. Both made their way to the

kitchen and found both their parents sitting at the table. The meal had not yet been served.

They sat down, not quite knowing what to expect.

µGuys,¶ Maria started. µSchool starts in two weeks,¶ she paused, looking at their dad.




49

µWhat your mum wants to say, kids,¶ Matt stepped in, µis that the two of you have been

acting a bit strange over the last couple of weeks. You have been avoiding your mother, and

we think you are hiding something from us. Is there something you want to tell us?¶ He

waited.

Hannah and Alex looked at each other and then looked blankly at their father.

µMaybe it was to do with the move,¶ Maria started. µI know it is a bit of a wrench, but

don¶t gang up on us. Talk to us if you have a problem, won¶t you?¶

Matt did not look convinced. From his years as a salesman for his previous engineering

company, he could tell body language, and he knew his kids were up to something. He

decided to bide his time.

After the meal, Hannah came into Alex¶s room.

µWhew! I thought we were in trouble then,¶ she said to her brother. µShould we say

something?¶

µYes.¶ Alex was fed up with hiding from his parents. µWhat do we say?¶

They both looked blankly at each other. Some serious thinking would have to be done.

****

Lanzarote, Canary Islands

Mann was grumpy again. He had just landed at the airport with his team of three guys, and

there was nobody there to meet them. Due to some fault with the mobile piers, he had to exit

the plane on to the ground and walk to the terminal, and had to endure the blast of over one

hundred degree heat in his lungs, having come out of the air conditioned plane. Next, his

guys had to wait for clearance from the US consul for their weapons to be released to them,

and there were queues of tourists at all the car hire desks.




50

He eventually got a space at the Hertz desk and booked a minivan. He was pleased that

their English was better than his Spanish, as he could have ended up with a Mini otherwise.

As he made his way to pick up the Seat Alhambra, he was joined by his team, who had just

got their guns. They had no luggage as they were not expecting to stay overnight. As they

reached their vehicle, they were met by two Spanish men in Guardia Civil uniforms, who

started talking to them rapidly in Spanish.

µBoss, these guys will bring us down to see the girl. We¶re too late,¶ Agent Hernandez

said. Hernandez was going to be useful here, being Mexican, as he could speak fluent

Spanish.

µI guessed as much. She was too obvious,¶ Mann replied. µLet¶s go.¶

They got into their vehicle and followed the Guardia out of the airport. Following them up

the Taxi lane, they took a shortcut out of the one-way system and found the duel carriageway

heading south. After a couple of roundabouts, Mann had to start fiddling with the controls to

find out how to switch on the air conditioning ± they were starting to bake in the minivan.

After going through some scenery, cacti and palm trees, that reminded him of his

hometown of Phoenix, Arizona, the idle chat in the vehicle stopped as they came by the lava

fields. All heads turned to look out at the desolate landscape, the lack of vegetation or life in

the lava field made one think that the eruption was recent, though it had been almost two

hundred years since the last volcano blew.

µHernandez, can we do a tour of the lava fields when we are done with the girl?¶ Mann

asked.

µOf course, Sir,¶ Hernandez replied. He knew Mann would tell him the reason when it was

time.

They reached Playa Blanca about fifteen minutes later, turned left through the town, and

before long, they were driving on a dirt track. It took a further ten minutes on the track before




51

they came to a stop in a small car park on a hill. The view was breathtaking; a small sandy

cove lay before them, surrounded on both sides by rocky outcrops, with clear blue sea in front

of them, with the view of the island of Fuerteventura in the distance. The only things to mar

the beauty of the location was the blue and white police tape all over the place, what must

have been over forty police officials all over the place, the rigid inflatable dinghy speeding

around the entrance to the cove, and the helicopter doing a grid pattern search overhead.

µWhere is she?¶ Mann asked.

One of the Guardia pointed to rocks to the side of the cove. They made their way down.

As they were climbing down the steep slope, Mann was curious about the circumstances of

what happened.

µWhat are they saying, Hernandez?¶ he asked.

µWell, there is a bit of confusion. From what the Spanish guys can make out, the girl was

here with her family during the week. She kept disappearing, as in vanishing into thin air,

over the last few days, but re-appearing within minutes. People said they could hear noise and

wind, like a large bird flapping.

µNext thing, a couple of guys turned up, fully dressed, on the beach. They tried to shoot

her, but she pulled one of her vanishing acts, and the two guys were injured ± we don¶t know

how. Then they say another woman appeared, out of thin air. Apparently she was standing on

a stone circle of some sort«¶

µDid she have a staff?¶ Mann asked.

µHow did you know? A weird one, with a big round sphere on the end. She stuck in into

the ground, and they say everything froze solid, the sea, the rock, the sand. Then the girl re-

appeared on the rock, frozen solid.¶ Hernandez saw that Mann did not look remotely

surprised. µThen they all disappeared in the melee.¶




52

They came to the body, lying in a small crack in the rocks to the right of the inlet. It was

quite tricky to keep foothold, as the rocks were still greasy from the melted frost. It still felt

cold.

Mann looked at the body. She looked so small and so young. She was fair haired, dressed

lightly, and still blue from having been frozen solid. There were some minor cuts and bruises

on her, which may have come from her battle with her enemy. He shook his head.

µThis should not be happening¶, he said.

µWhat next, Boss?¶ asked Merryman, another of Mann¶s team, who had been taking things

in, and stating the obvious.

µWe ship the body out, do our post mortem, and give her back to her parents¶, Mann

answered. µWhat do the parents know?¶

µMore than they are letting on¶, Merryman answered, watching Hernandez making

arrangements with the Guardia. µGermans, they knew about her abilities.¶

µYou and Murphy find out what they know, and report back to me. Tell her we will make

the arrangements to fly the body back to Germany for them¶, Mann instructed his men. µCan

you travel with the Spanish? I want to take the minivan and check something out.¶

Mann walked off without waiting for a reply.

****

Alex and Hannah¶s parents were still stunned. They had told them four hours earlier, both

having given them a small demonstration, and then left to let their parents to talk among

themselves.

Following the inevitable questions about how, when, what, nobody asked why.




Dinner came and passed and they were still stuck for words. The only discussion was what

plans had to be made for school in two weeks time.

Documents

The Keeper of Souls