“How do I use it?”
“There’s a symbol on the first page. See?”He pointed.“Try aligning the ring with it. If I’m right, the text should become readable.”
My hands trembled as I positioned my hand over the page, lining up the engraved chalice on the ring with the one on the paper.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the ring flared with heat, and the letters on the page began to shift.
I gasped, watching the strange script rearrange itself into words I could understand. Not all of the diary—some sections remained stubbornly encoded—but enough to read some passages.
“It’s working,”Quilliam breathed.
“Excuse me? You sound surprised when moments before you seemed pretty confident.”
“I mean, I was hopeful this would work, but you know, YOLO.”
I slanted a glance at my wee book wyrm.
“YOLO? Do you even know what that means? Or how that isn’t even remotely applicable right now?”
“I would focus more on these moving passages than my usage of modern-day vernacular.”Quilliam sniffed and lifted his nose in the air.
Rolling my eyes, I trailed my finger along the jumbled words until I reached the first decoded passage.
I write this in haste, for I do not know how much time remains. The guardian has been corrupted. I have watched it happen over these past months…the strange moods, the whispered conversations with something none of us can see, the way it looks at the artifacts with hunger instead of protection.
I glanced up at Quilliam.
“The guardian,” I said. “The Beithir?”
“Historically speaking the Beithir was the main guardian of The Three Queens, as well as the loch. What else does it say?”
“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 oldestmyths. 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 Ihad 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.
