The Shadowmagic Trilogy. John Lenahan

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      ‘No,’ he said, turning away, ‘I gave that up when I came to the Real World.’

      I shook my head to clear the cobwebs, which was a mistake, because I almost passed out with the pain. When my vision cleared, Dad was staring at me with a look of total sincerity.

      ‘So you used to be an immortal?’ I asked.

      ‘Yes.’

      At that point I should have come to the obvious conclusion that this was all just a dream, except for the fact that dreaming isn’t something I had ever done. Famously, among my friends and classmates at least, I had never had a dream. I had an idea what they were like from TV shows and movies but it was not something I had ever experienced. People always said, ‘Oh, you must dream, you just don’t remember it,’ but I don’t think so. When I put my head down, I wake up in the same place and I don’t go anywhere in-between. And anyway, I knew this was real – there was something in the air, other than the stench, that felt more real than anything I had ever known.

      I was silent for a long while and then I asked, ‘Do I have any other relatives I should know about?’

      The answer came, not from my father, but from a shadowy figure standing in the doorway on the far side of the room.

      ‘You have an uncle,’ he said.

TWO

      UNCLE CIALTIE

      The instant he emerged from the shadows, I knew he was my uncle alright. He looked like an old high-school photo of my father, before the grey hair and the extra twenty pounds. He had that evil twin appearance about him, like one of those crappy TV movies where the same actor plays the part of the nice and the wicked brother. He even had the black goatee and a sinister sneer.

      Don’t get the impression that this was a comical moment. Even chained against a wall, I tried to take an involuntary step back – this guy was scary. But the person who scared me the most at that moment wasn’t my uncle, it was my father.

      ‘Cialtie,’ he said, with more malice than I had ever heard from anybody – let alone Dad.

      ‘Brother Oisin,’ Cialtie dripped, ‘you look, what is that word? Oh yes – old.’

      ‘Where is Finn?’

      ‘You mean our father? I thought he was with you. Last time I saw him he was riding into the Real World looking for you. His horse didn’t look very healthy though.’

      ‘You murdered him.’

      ‘Oh no,’ Cialtie replied with false innocence, ‘I wouldn’t hurt Father. I merely stabbed the horse,’ and then he smiled. It was my first experience of Uncle Cialtie’s smile, and it made my stomach churn.

      ‘I’ll kill you,’ Dad hissed.

      ‘No, I think you will find that that is what I am going to do to you. But first I am going to kill your boy here, and you know the best part? After that I’ll be considered a hero – a saviour even.’

      ‘Why would killing me make him a saviour?’ I said, finding my voice.

      Cialtie addressed me directly, for the first time, instantly making me wish I hadn’t asked the question. ‘Hasn’t Daddy told you anything?’ Cialtie scolded. ‘Tsk, tsk, Oisin, you really have neglected his education. Haven’t you told him of the prophecy?’

      ‘What prophecy?’

      ‘I didn’t think this would ever happen,’ Dad said without looking at me. ‘We were never supposed to come back.’

      ‘What prophecy?’

      ‘You are the son of the one-handed prince,’ quoted Cialtie, ‘a very dangerous young man. It’s true, it was foreseen by a very gifted oracle.’

      ‘Who,’ my father said, ‘you murdered.’

      ‘Water under the bridge, Oisin. You really must learn to let bygones be bygones. You see, your daddy here carelessly lost his hand – which I still have upstairs, you know, it’s one of my favourite possessions – so that meant that having a baby was a no-no, but as always Oisin thought he knew best and it looks like it’s going to take his big brother to sort things out.’

      ‘You are using my hand,’ Dad hissed, ‘to keep the throne.’

      ‘Oh yes,’ replied Cialtie, ‘I find it works just as well in the Chamber of Runes without the rest of you. Better, in fact – because your mouth isn’t attached to it. That Shadowwitch you used to run around with did a really good job of preserving it.’

      I could see the blood vessels in Dad’s temple stand out as he strained against his chains. My temples must have been throbbing too. I didn’t have a clue what was going on. Some oracle predicted that I had to die? Cialtie was using Dad’s hand? And what throne?

      ‘I would love to stand here and reminisce all day,’ said Cialtie, ‘but I have a nephew to kill. Now, your father’s runehand has come in so useful these last few years, I thought I might as well have yours too. The start of a collection, maybe?’ He reached into his cloak and took out an ornate golden box. Inside was an imprint of a hand.

      ‘I’m going to cut off your hand,’ Cialtie continued, ‘preserve it with proper magic, not that Shadowmagic stuff she used on your dad’s mitt, and then you bleed to death and die. Your dad gets to watch and everybody is happy.’

      I used to think that anger was a bad thing, but now I realise that in times of extreme stress and fear, anger can be the emotion that focuses your mind and gets you through. Did I hate my uncle? You bet. And the idea of killing him was the only thing that kept me from whimpering like a damp puppy. I held on to that thought as he came at me.

      Cialtie paused. ‘You know, I just had a thought. Is it not ironic that the day you become an immortal is the day you die?’

      ‘If I’m an immortal, how are you going to kill me?’

      Cialtie laughed, a sickening laugh that deliberately went on too long. ‘Oh my. I never thought I would see the day when I would meet a son of Duir who was so thick. Immortality, my boy, may save you from illness and getting old, but it won’t save you from this.’ He drew his sword and swung at my wrist.

      Then it happened again. The world seemed to slow down and a golden – no – an amber glow encircled Cialtie’s sword and me. I felt the pressure of the blade on my wrist but it didn’t hurt, and more importantly, it didn’t cut. Cialtie flew into a rage – he began hacking and stabbing at me. I didn’t even try to dodge it – the amber glow seemed to protect me. Finally he threw the sword across the room in a rage.

      ‘This is Shadowmagic,’ he hissed. ‘That witch’s doing, I’ll wager. Well, I have a sorceress of my own.’ He turned to leave – then looked back. ‘You have a reprieve, nephew. I suggest that you and Daddy say your goodbyes. Just don’t take too long,’ and СКАЧАТЬ