Rundimahair: A new hero for a new adventure Larry Forkner (best ereader for pc TXT) 📖

guy for several miles, when we had them trapped. By the time our trackers caught their scent again, hours had passed.”

“What about the old fellow?” Grainne asked.

“Nothing that would help them in a fight. Our trackers said his powers centered on working the land,” Barock said with contempt.

Grainne walked up behind him and put her hand on his shoulder. Instantly Barock could feel sizzling heat where she touched him. His first instinct was to knock her dainty hand away from his shoulder, but he knew better. If he slapped her hand away, he would die a slow, burning death.

“I know you don’t have much use for powers that are not related to fighting, Barock. But without those who can bring forth all manner of food to feed our hungry warriors, those always starving beasts would die very quickly. All magic is important to us in one way or the other.”

Sweat began to bead up on Barock’s face as the white-hot heat, from the palm of her hand, began to burn through his favorite leather jacket. He knew that in another minute it would be burning through his skin. He shifted his massive frame slightly and said, “When you’re right, you’re right.”

Grainne watched him stay calm, even while sweat began pouring off his face. She couldn’t help but admire his calm and cool attitude when death could be mere minutes away. He was a giant brute with thick, corded muscles, just like all her warriors. Unlike most of them, he had a sharp mind to go with the brute strength.

She let the heat sizzling from the palm of her hand just touch the bare skin of his shoulder. Slowly, she pulled her hand back. Ugly red welts bubbled up on his thick, gray skin, but he didn’t move a muscle.

“You missed one other thing about the old man,” Grainne said as she turned to glare at him.

“I’m listening,” he said through gritted teeth.

“He was smart enough to keep the shotgun hidden until he was ready to shoot. He also…” she stopped, waiting for him to fill in the missing thought.

“He knew to shoot for the face,” Barock said. “The one place on our warriors where a bullet could do instant damage.”

“Exactly!” she shouted. “They aren’t supposed to know about that vulnerability, but he shot him right between the eyes.”

“The guy might be a farmer, but I never said he was stupid,” Barock said. All you got to do is look at our warriors to figure that a head shot is the best move. Even a scatter gun isn’t going to kill them with a body shot. He had time to watch the fight before he was attacked. He could see that the head was the vulnerable spot.”

Grainne stared at him for several moments before she slowly nodded her head. “I came to the same conclusion. This is a weakness we need to overcome. Otherwise, our enemies won’t even need magic to fight our warriors. They can just use the same weapon a lowly human would fight with.”

Barock nodded and said, “There was another important point that was missed in this fight.”

She had started to walk away but turned to look at him again. “I’m listening,” Grainne said softly.

“We weren’t fighting a little girl and a farmer out there,” he said grimly.

“Someone’s grandmother showed up as well?” she asked sarcastically.

“They were much older than that and a whole lot meaner,” he said, anger building in his voice.

“Still listening,” she said calmly.

“It was Eamon and that devil brat of his!” he shouted; all control now gone. “Eamon and Ashling are the ones that destroyed my warriors!”

“You lie!” she shouted, rushing toward him.

“See for yourself, Your Majesty. Two of our trackers survived the carnage, and it’s all recorded in their mind tracks.”

Grainne turned to the closest surviving tracker. The creature was badly burned, but still walking. She touched its head with her fingertips and instantly the battle scene filled her own mind.

She watched in stunned silence, while she saw the devastation that Eamon and Ashling unleashed on her best warriors. While that was fascinating in its own right, what really grabbed her attention was the young man fighting with them.

He wasn’t an ancient of days who still looked young. This man was no older than his mid-twenties. Despite being so young, he fought with a wild abandon that was mesmerizing.

“It can’t be,” she whispered when she got a closer look at him. But it was the young man she thought she’d sensed inside her castle. “How could he know where to find our sanctuary?”

Even though this was very troubling to her, she also realized something that made her smile. If Ashling and her father were here, along with this mystery boy, then their own sanctuary must be close at hand.

Grainne put her hand on the still bubbling burn she’d inflicted on Barock’s shoulder. In seconds, the wound healed over and disappeared.

She handed him two five hundred-dollar bills and said, “Go buy yourself a new leather jacket, Barock. “This one is ruined.”

Barock smiled thinly and said, “As you wish.”

When Grainne was alone, she narrowed her eyes and whispered, “It won’t be long now, Ashling. I’ll find Rundimahair and I’ll destroy you and anyone else who dares stand in my way.”

* * *

“At least we brought young Ailbe and her Granda home safe and sound,” Eamon said.

“Not to mention beating the ugly off those seriously gross beasties of hers,” Sean said. “Where do those things come from anyway?”

“Believe it or not, they were once as fair and good as the residents of Rundimahair. We all were part of the same race in the beginning. We were sent to earth to watch over and help the mortals develop as the Creator wished them to,” Ashling said.

“It was Grainne who got some of you to rebel?” Sean asked.

“It was a close ancestor of hers named Donal. He managed to take many of our brothers and sisters with him when he left. Eventually they lost the light