loss of John, but I felt a dagger pierce it when I thought that I could lose Fergus, too.
Chapter 8
♦♦♦
Anabel
Effortlessly, Blane hauled Fergus into the c astle, an infected body hanging over his broad shoulder, surging with poisonous venom, flailing uncontrollably on the verge of a catastrophic change into a Màrmann.
Cautiously, Slu peeked out from behind a door, fearing that something bad had happened, his large eye bulging with red veins shooting out from his steely-blue iris like the rays of the sun.
“Go get Leigheas and the Heathers,” ordered Blane to Slu, his eye twitching in surprise. He turned swiftly, bobbing down the hallway on his lone leg.
Blane dumped Fergus into a wooden chair, a distant stare haunting his eyes, his arms jerking wildly, frenziedly, coughing and choking up black phlegm.
Five heather pixies zipped into the room, exploding like confetti, a stream of violet dust trailing behind them, their bodies covered in purple heather, small and dainty, fluttering their shear wings like yellow bumble bees.
Izzy rushed to Fergus’s side, her fingers intertwined with his. “Why didn’t you take us back to Granny’s?” she yelled at Blane, rubbing away the clammy beads off Fergus’ forehead.
Blane stood over Fergus. “Having her drain your blood is one thing. Getting a dose of her venom is another. We must get the venom out,” he said, “Before...”
Fergus’s eyes began to dart rapidly around the room, unexpectedly, he lurched forward, swinging his fists violently, clipping Blane in the chin, knocking him back two steps. Blane rubbed the welt on his chin, nodding to the heather pixies, flittering above Fergus, roots sprung out from their hands and feet, thick vines coiling around Fergus’s chest, arms, and ankles, strapping him securely into the chair, his body jarring, legs kicking wildly, fighting the restraint.
Izzy wedged her finger tips under rope-like vines, trying to tear them off Fergus. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she screamed, ripping at the entangled roots.
Blane nodded again and two of the heather pixies shot their snarling roots into the air, braided green stems hooking around Izzy, anchoring her down into another wooden chair.
“Let me go!” shrieked Izzy, jostling in the high backed chair.
“Calm yerself, lass,” stated Blane. “The heather’s grip will only tighten the more you struggle.”
Izzy’s face went beet red, throwing her body left to right, screaming, “What the hell is this place, a prison?”
“Blane?” I said softly, touching his arm, feeling his hard bulging biceps.
Blane tensed from my touch.
Give me strength , I sighed to myself. I was hoping he’d be able to explain his actions.
A mist of twinkling lights developed next to Fergus, Leigheas appeared from out of nowhere within a sparkling cloud.
“Leigheas will remove the Lainahwyn’s venom from your friend,” stated Blane, working a jaw in his mouth.
“Then what, Braveheart?” snipped Izzy. Her body leaned forward, pressing against her coiled restraints, digging deep into her bare skin. “You’re gonna throw us down into the dungeon and eat our flesh?”
“Izzy,” I said, irritated by her bad manners. “Blane’s here to help us.”
“Prove it,” she demanded, “by letting me go!”
Leigheas continued with her task, placing one of her gnarled hands on top of Fergus’s forehead and the other on his heart, trying to calm him, but his body continued to shake violently.
Slu hopped into the great room, a spiky wood club clutched in his hairy hand, waving it in the air, muttering, “I’z knock ‘em out cold.”
“What?” shrieked Izzy, her cheeks flaming .
“No, Slu!” said Blane testily, throwing his hand down.
“What the hell is that thing anyway?” Izzy said through gritted teeth.
Slu hung his head low and wobbled away, dragging his club behind him down the stone hallway.
Smoke steamed from Blane’s nostrils. “He’s a Fachan!”
Chapter 8
♦♦♦
Anabel
Effortlessly, Blane hauled Fergus into the c astle, an infected body hanging over his broad shoulder, surging with poisonous venom, flailing uncontrollably on the verge of a catastrophic change into a Màrmann.
Cautiously, Slu peeked out from behind a door, fearing that something bad had happened, his large eye bulging with red veins shooting out from his steely-blue iris like the rays of the sun.
“Go get Leigheas and the Heathers,” ordered Blane to Slu, his eye twitching in surprise. He turned swiftly, bobbing down the hallway on his lone leg.
Blane dumped Fergus into a wooden chair, a distant stare haunting his eyes, his arms jerking wildly, frenziedly, coughing and choking up black phlegm.
Five heather pixies zipped into the room, exploding like confetti, a stream of violet dust trailing behind them, their bodies covered in purple heather, small and dainty, fluttering their shear wings like yellow bumble bees.
Izzy rushed to Fergus’s side, her fingers intertwined with his. “Why didn’t you take us back to Granny’s?” she yelled at Blane, rubbing away the clammy beads off Fergus’ forehead.
Blane stood over Fergus. “Having her drain your blood is one thing. Getting a dose of her venom is another. We must get the venom out,” he said, “Before...”
Fergus’s eyes began to dart rapidly around the room, unexpectedly, he lurched forward, swinging his fists violently, clipping Blane in the chin, knocking him back two steps. Blane rubbed the welt on his chin, nodding to the heather pixies, flittering above Fergus, roots sprung out from their hands and feet, thick vines coiling around Fergus’s chest, arms, and ankles, strapping him securely into the chair, his body jarring, legs kicking wildly, fighting the restraint.
Izzy wedged her finger tips under rope-like vines, trying to tear them off Fergus. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she screamed, ripping at the entangled roots.
Blane nodded again and two of the heather pixies shot their snarling roots into the air, braided green stems hooking around Izzy, anchoring her down into another wooden chair.
“Let me go!” shrieked Izzy, jostling in the high backed chair.
“Calm yerself, lass,” stated Blane. “The heather’s grip will only tighten the more you struggle.”
Izzy’s face went beet red, throwing her body left to right, screaming, “What the hell is this place, a prison?”
“Blane?” I said softly, touching his arm, feeling his hard bulging biceps.
Blane tensed from my touch.
Give me strength , I sighed to myself. I was hoping he’d be able to explain his actions.
A mist of twinkling lights developed next to Fergus, Leigheas appeared from out of nowhere within a sparkling cloud.
“Leigheas will remove the Lainahwyn’s venom from your friend,” stated Blane, working a jaw in his mouth.
“Then what, Braveheart?” snipped Izzy. Her body leaned forward, pressing against her coiled restraints, digging deep into her bare skin. “You’re gonna throw us down into the dungeon and eat our flesh?”
“Izzy,” I said, irritated by her bad manners. “Blane’s here to help us.”
“Prove it,” she demanded, “by letting me go!”
Leigheas continued with her task, placing one of her gnarled hands on top of Fergus’s forehead and the other on his heart, trying to calm him, but his body continued to shake violently.
Slu hopped into the great room, a spiky wood club clutched in his hairy hand, waving it in the air, muttering, “I’z knock ‘em out cold.”
“What?” shrieked Izzy, her cheeks flaming .
“No, Slu!” said Blane testily, throwing his hand down.
“What the hell is that thing anyway?” Izzy said through gritted teeth.
Slu hung his head low and wobbled away, dragging his club behind him down the stone hallway.
Smoke steamed from Blane’s nostrils. “He’s a Fachan!”
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