Chapter 21 #2
“It speaks of the Cailleach.” I scanned the text.
“The hungry dark, it calls her. The winter that consumes. Och, Quilliam. You were right. It’s the veiled one you spoke about.
” I bit my lower lip and looked over at him.
His wee face held dread on it. “And, apparently, she ordered the guardian to destroy the bonds between The Three Queens so they can never be united against her.”
My blood went cold.
“The Three Queens would be strong enough, together, to eradicate her if needed,” Quilliam observed.
“She needed to split them apart … so she could keep her power?”
This was some next level shite. I’d thought the Order of Caledonia was tasked with the great honor of protecting one of the world’s few magickal artifacts of great historical and magickal significance.
And yet, all along, there’d been so much more behind it.
Which made sense, really. If there was one great and magickal artifact, why couldn’t there be more?
What I wasn’t a huge fan of was some magickal goddess hag called the Great Darkness of whatever.
Nope, not a fan of that in the slightest.
“So she was controlling the Beithir. Corrupting it, even.” I scanned the pages.
“Right. So … that’s not ideal. The Cailleach is…”—Quilliam shook out his wings—“a dark figure from the oldest myths. I’ve heard whispers of her over the centuries, but I thought she was just a story. A way to frighten children.”
“Oh that’s just grand, isn’t it? A new player enters the game?” Annoyed, I read out loud.
I can’t comprehend what I’ve learned. The guardian plans to destroy us all. To kill everyone who protects the artifacts. I can’t allow this to happen.
My voice cracked. Quilliam pressed against my arm, a small warm comfort.
Tonight I must go. The Beithir no longer protects, as it seethes with rage. And left unchecked, it will slaughter us all.
“Oh no,” I whispered, scared to turn the page. Even though I well knew that Isobel was long gone by now.
I pen this knowing I will not survive the night.
The wounds are too perilous, the burns too severe.
But someone must know the truth of what transpired at the loch.
Someone must understand why I undertook what I did.
I went to the loch alone. I battled the creature I had once loved, the guardian I had once trusted.
Lightning struck the water around us and the loch boiled with rancor.
I was certain I would perish. I wanted to depart this life, if it meant saving them.
“She fought it alone,” I breathed, understanding dawning. “To protect her family.”
I lured the Beithir from the loch and struck the fatal blow, and as the light faded from the guardian’s eyes, transformation occurred.
The corruption dissipated. It drained away like poison from a wound, and for one moment—one single, precious moment—the Beithir was its beloved self again.
It looked at me with such mournfulness, and then it spoke to me.
“Oh. Oh … this is so sad,” I whispered, flipping the page and scanning again.
Advise them of my unswerving intent,’ it said.
‘Proclaim to them what defeated me. I fought her. I fought the darkness endlessly, but her strength was formidable. Do not allow my name to be remembered as a heinous monster. Pronounce the truth.’ I promised.
I held that incomparable creature as it passed, and I promised I would proclaim what the Cailleach had accomplished.
That the Beithir was a victim, not a ruinous villain.
The beloved Beithir had fought the malevolent corruption until the very end.
I had to stop. My breath shuddered. The ring was glowing now, warm and insistent, almost urging me to continue.
And then she arrived. The Cailleach. I felt her maleficent presence before my eyes beheld her, a chill so deep it burned, a darkness that swallowed the moon’s light.
She was incensed. My actions had sabotaged her schemes and exterminated the weapon she had spent years cultivating.
Forthwith she cursed my bloodline and every daughter borne from the Wright line.
Every person your blood considers beloved,’ she said, ‘the water will claim. You stole The Cailleach’s creature. The Cailleach will take everything from you. Generation after generation, until your bloodline beholds nothing but devastation and bones.
“The Cailleach,” I breathed. “She cursed us. Not the Beithir.”
“It makes sense,” Quilliam said. “It’s always felt like such a cruel curse, but I get it now. This was punishment. Revenge.”
I kept reading, Isobel’s words blurring through my tears.
I tried to inform my family, but they did not believe my words. They identified only the death I caused. They believe I executed the guardian, resulting in the curse upon our kinswomen. My family deemed me a traitor and they fled from a threat we do not completely understand.
“They thought Isobel had caused the curse somehow. They didn’t know it came from the Cailleach.” Quilliam was pacing the table, his spiky tail dotting the air as though to punctuate his words.
“Och, no, they didn’t, did they? They only saw the aftermath and drew the wrong conclusions.”
I found one more decoded passage at the very end.