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Brendan Carroll, Novelist
Category:
Fantasy
Publisher: Brendan Carroll
ISBN-10: 1470064308
Type: Fiction
Pages: 360
Copyright: Oct 3, 2011
ISBN-13: 9781470064303
Price: $3.99 (eBook)
Ancient secrets are revealed when some of the Lords and Ladies of the Abyss show up at Mark Ramsay's estate in Scotland for a little get together.
Ancient secrets are revealed when some of the Lords and Ladies of the Abyss show up at Mark Ramsay's estate in Scotland for a little get together. More and more interesting facts come to light about the Knight of Death's past, and he must renew his search for the Ancient Evil who is still bent upon gaining access to the crystal skulls. Mark's old nemesis, Abaddon, uses Lucio to gain information from Catherine de Goth about one of the skulls, while Mark takes a trip to New York looking for buried treasure. Publicity does not help the Order's cause whenever Mark and his Brother are taken hostage by the King of England who is already under Jozsef Daniel's sway. Meanwhile, something very horribly twisted comes of Bari Kadif's meddling with Ruth's mind and his 'misunderstanding' about how things work. On top of it all, the elf King decides it is time for him to marry... a human.
The Prologue contains the author's version of how the Templar Initiation Rite might have been enacted and is optional reading.
Excerpt
He pulled the linen-wrapped bundle from the brass urn and plopped down on the rug with it like a mischievous child, uncovering the glittering artifact haphazardly in his haste. He placed it on the expensive, yet worn Persian rug on the floor in front of him and then got up, looking down at the smooth surface accusingly.
“Do not lie to me, friend,” he muttered and began to walk around and around the thing in a clockwise circle as had become his custom when communing with the spirit of the crystal.
As he walked, colors and lights began to swirl in front of his face and though his vision was soon completely blurred and obscured by these shapes, his feet carried him around it without stumbling or missing a step. Soon he heard the serene voice singing the hauntingly beautiful lullaby of the skull and his mind drifted in a warm sea of brilliant colors and soft lights. Soothing. Entrancing. All-consuming. A very dangerous and vulnerable state. Anything could have happened to him while he was thus enraptured.
“Show me your sisters, my lovely siren,” he said softly and allowed the visions to take form in his mind.
The incoherent swirls and eddies coalesced into recognizable shapes. Sparkling mounds, which would become the hollow-eyed faces of the other skulls… her sisters. And they would join their voices to hers and the music they made was correctly described by the word siren. There were no discernible words, but the voices blended, ebbed and flowed with a fascinating tonal quality that seemed to concentrate directly on a spot in the center of his brain and then he would see them. He would see the insides of the boxes, bathed in pinks, yellows, blues and greens. Dim, warm places.
And then he saw them from the point of view of the skull on the floor at the center of his circle. Eleven skulls. Five boxes of approximately the same size, but of different appearance. Some very old and bound with iron straps. Some of the casks carved with intricate designs and wrapped in brass and copper. One or two were made of very black wood or covered with ancient leather. On top of the two stacks of five was a more modern box made of quilted aluminum or stainless steel, slightly larger than the others and centered on them. This one being the most recent addition. He tried to focus on it. So far, the skull inside had remained silent, but today there was something different about the song he was hearing. Something he could not quite focus his mind on.
He concentrated his attention on the surroundings. Around the small caskets, scattered about, was old furniture, chairs with broken legs, tables, crates, boxes and piles of junk that one usually found in an attic. The singing continued. The light entered through a small octagonal window under the eaves at the peak of the roof. He was quite positive this was Ramsay’s attic. He concentrated his efforts and moved toward the window in order to look out on the land below.
A rolling green meadow full of blue wildflowers stretched away to the horizon. A pair of shaggy deerhounds raced through the grass. And a woman in a long dress walked casually in the sunshine with a basket hanging from the crook of her arm. This was the first time he had seen anyone in these visions. He urged the skull to show him more and he felt as if he were falling from the window and then traveling very rapidly across the meadow just above the waving stalks of grass. He could hear the dogs barking now. He drew up short, very near the woman. Her long skirt seemed made of satin or crinoline and it brushed the grass as she walked. Her ruffled petticoat peeked from beneath the full skirt of the dress.
He raised his eyes and saw she wore her dark hair in a twisted French braid under a wide-brimmed straw hat. She was quite lovely. Her eyes were deep blue. She looked up at the sky as an eagle or hawk circled overhead and then bent to pluck some of the violets, placing them in the basket she carried. Her face was radiant with simple joy at the sight of the bird against the clear blue sky. A beautiful woman. Striking eyes, deep intellectual and curious.
Very familiar eyes looking up toward the heavens. The straight nose and full lips bespoke a woman of breeding. She clapped her hands and called the dogs… in old Gaelic. The song of the skulls! A masculine voice! Deep and resounding. One of the skulls was male!
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