The Collector 3: Cauldron Page 17

  Some distance away mist erupted from the ground with shocking speed. It reached the height of a three storey building before condensing to total opacity. She stared at Matt, then back to the mist, and even Fergus snapped out of his trance to stand and watch.

  And the mist vanished, leaving a tall tower standing before them as if it’d always been there.

  “Wow!” she breathed.

  The tower was square and built of rough gray stone, with a series of four big arches in each wall facing the cardinal directions of the compass. Only the top third of the tower had windows, suggesting the lower level was one big chamber. They couldn’t see to confirm the guess; the archways were pitch black as if all light which fell upon those spaces was being swallowed up. An air of desolation hung heavily about it.

  “Nice and cozy,” Kate said. “A prime site for redevelopment!”

  “Never mind the look of the place, where’s this guardian we were told about?” Matt asked, peering around.

  “He should be here somewhere,” Fergus spoke up.

  “Oh, you’re back with us, then?” Kate said, glancing at him.

  “Let whatever passed between us rest, lady!” he snapped. “This is serious. We’re now in the Firbolg’s domain, and we must be alert!”

  “So where is it?” Matt asked.

  They didn’t have long to guess. A long, low growl emanated from the tower. As they watched, a huge figure emerged from the darkness in the nearest arch and stood upright, a task that seemed to take an age, so big was the creature. It wore filthy matted clothing of scraps and rags and whole hides stitched together, and bore a massive club fashioned from a small tree with all the branches lopped off. A rank odor rolled from the creature and across the ground, a stench so foul it created a palpable shimmer in the air; Kate, Matt, and Fergus retched as it hit them.

  But as Kate gagged and retched, through the watering of her eyes, she saw something that made her stare in horror. The creature’s eyes glared down at her with a glimmering of surprise in their black depths, a surprise she knew was mirrored on her own face. There was something so horribly familiar about the giant.

  “It’s my grandfather!” she screamed. The brute didn’t heed her. It advanced on them like an avalanche on legs, with murder clear in its face. “Oh my God, he’s not going to listen!”

  She sought for a way to get through to its mind, to find some way of reaching the man inside the hideous form ‑‑ if he still existed. Concentrating, she drew upon her magic once more. It came as bidden, and she shaped words around it and directed it at the ogre. “Thomas Susadi! I’m your granddaughter! For God’s sake stop and look; you’ll see I speak the truth!”

  A constant roaring gale blew through the wreckage of what had once been a fine academic mind. Some scraps of intellect held on, grim survivors that would never yield to circumstances, and above the howling wind, they shouted as one, This woman knows you! She says she’s your granddaughter! It must be true! Can you not see the family likeness?

  The shout dampened the wind enough for the creature to remember its name. I’m Thomas Susadi! From that self-knowledge a new urgency arose. The intruders had to be warned! Even as the numbing wind picked up again, he bellowed at them. “Go back! Go back, or you’re as doomed as I!”

  Kate covered her ears, so loud was the giant’s agonized cry. Against her will, acting on pure instinct, she stepped forward and peered up at the beast. “Thomas? Thomas Susadi? I’m your granddaughter, Kate!”

  A look of pure misery crossed the great face as he stared down at her. “Of all the lousy tricks of fate!” it moaned and stretched out a vast hand. “Kate, go back, child! The cauldron is cursed! If those who are impure of heart seek to take it, they shall be twisted into a shape such as I, doomed to guard it forever.” It began to sob even as it raised the club. “I can’t fight it much longer! No bounds of kinship or friendship can stay me from killing all who come here!”

  “Kate, get back here, now!” Matt yelled, drawing his sword.

  She stumbled away from the giant, sobbing, chest tight with anguish. The creature that had once been her grandfather shook itself like a dog and roared.

  Matt grabbed Fergus’ arm. “Play, bard!” he shouted. “Play like you’ve never played before!”

  Fergus needed no second urging. He took up his harp and began to stroke the strings.

  Pure rage filled the giant’s head now; rage against the fate that had brought him here, rage against the curse that bound it to the tower, rage against the stupid child who’d intruded upon him and now had to be killed, shared blood or no. He hefted the great club, prepared to swing and smash the frail humans to pulp, when a glissando of music trilled through the air and overcame even the roaring in his mind.

  Tired; so very tired. The giant felt his eyelids grow heavy, and jerked upright, tried to raise the club again. But it was such beautiful music! It touched things long buried within its very fabric, and told it to rest, that everything would be over soon once it had had a nice sleep.

  Kate stumbled back to the others. Matt drew his sword. As she came up, he took her arm and thrust her behind him. Fergus was concentrating on the giant, his fingers flying over the strings of his harp as he played sweet, soothing music; it raised goose bumps on Kate’s skin. A fine sheen of sweat beaded Fergus’ brow and upper lip, and his eyes seemed to glow with purpose.

  She looked back and saw the giant swaying on its feet. As she watched, it dropped the club and she felt the tremor as the thing hit the ground. “Soooo tir-e-ed,” the creature mumbled in a low roar, fell to its knees, then onto its face. “Sooo ... uhn!”

  They stood and watched and waited. A low snore issued from the giant’s gaping mouth.

  Fergus lowered his harp, and look of triumph on his face. He reached out and tugged Matt’s sleeve. “Now, O’Brien, go and kill the thing while it sleeps!”

  “No!” Kate shouted. “It’s my grandfather!”

  “What?” Fergus looked at her with a mixture of perplexity and scorn. “Woman, that may have once been your grandsire, but he is no more! The curse has twisted him. O’Brien, surely you can see the need? Harden your heart, kill the beast, and the Cauldron of Fire is ours!”

  “Matt, for God’s sake, don’t,” Kate said, grabbing his arm. “It’s my grandfather, I tell you. Maybe my magic can cure him. Please, I beg you, don’t kill him!”

  “I’m not going to, Kate,” he said. “You’re right; there must be a solution to this.”

  “Are you a coward to hesitate so?” Fergus shouted, then lowered his voice and shot a glance at the giant. It slumbered on, and he turned back to Matt and stabbed his finger into the other man's chest. “Are you going to let this woman override all your sense? You need that cauldron.” He pointed to the upper level of the tower. “The treasure lies up there. That giant could wake at any moment. I can’t cast that same charm on it again.”

  “Why not?” he demanded.

  “It’s the nature of the magic, fool! The creature may succumb to my music the once, but after that it’s immune! If you wait for it to wake up, you’ll have to fight it, and by the gods I’ll not give odds in your favor, O’Brien!”

  Matt looked from Fergus to Kate. “I’ll take the chance and sneak inside,” he told her. Stay out here with Fergus if you want.”

  “Matt, don’t be so stupid!”

  “Don’t call me stupid!” he growled.

  She held up her hands. “Sorry! I didn’t mean it.” She shot a hard glance at the bard. “I may have fucked this creep, but I sure as hell don’t love him! I love you.”

  He drew in a sharp breath. “Do you mean that?”

  His eyes looked haunted; she could see he wanted to believe her, and she didn’t have to act to sound sincere when she said again, “I do. I love you, Matt!”

  “Damn it, Kate, you choose your moments,” he said and gave a half grin. She felt relieved to see it, after the frown he’d worn almost all the time since they’d left the ráth.

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nbsp; “I can’t think of a better time,” she said, and hugged him. “I love you.”

  “I love you, Kate. Maybe I’ve loved you for some time.” He stroked her cheek. “I’ve been a jerk, but I’ve never met anyone like you; I didn’t know how to act around you.”

  “Hey,” she said, giving him a little shake. “I’m the only actor around here!”

  “I’m not going to challenge you! Kate, I love you. We’ll fix this mess then get out of here. We’ve got a lot to say to each other.” He jerked his thumb at the tower. “For now, we’ve got to get that cauldron before the giant wakes, or we’re fucked!”

  “Then what are we waiting for?” she demanded. “Let’s go!”

  “Go, then, fools!” Fergus sneered. “I’ll wait out here. Someone has to return to the queen to tell her you failed!”

  “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on!” Kate snapped.

  * * * * *

  They walked almost past the giant and over to the tower. The stench of the beast hung heavy in the still air, and Kate fought the urge to retch. A low snore reminded her ‑‑ as if she needed it ‑‑ that the giant was only asleep. She glanced at it, compassion filling her breast. There had to be a way to save him.

  Kate and Matt entered the building cautiously.

  “Kate, the darkness isn’t so intense,” Matt said.

  “Is there a way upstairs?” she asked, as they crept under the arch. “Yes!” She answered her own question, pointing. “There!”

  A series of flat, squared-off stones had been implanted in the fabric of the wall. Set at an angle off the vertical, they formed a rudimentary stairway up to the top floor. Matt pushed her behind him and began to climb with his sword out, ready for action. She bridled at the chauvinistic maneuver but decided it wasn’t the time to debate the matter. Together they ascended to the opening at the top, and Matt raised his head far enough to peer over the edge. “It looks clear,” he said, “but it stinks of bat guano.”

  “I’m surprised you can smell anything after that stink downstairs. Can you see the cauldron?”

  “There’s a fine table here in the middle of the room,” he said, and climbed through the hatch. As he stood upright he turned to look down at her, his face lit up with triumph. “Yes! It’s here!”

  “Thank fuck for that!” she groused and followed him through the door.

  They stood together in a chamber some twenty paces square, with an ornate wooden-beamed roof. The windows they’d seen from outside gave wide views over the countryside, but they had eyes only for the object that stood on the solitary table.

  It was a large cauldron fashioned of hammered bronze. Kate saw that if she spread her arms wide she’d only just be able to reach the opposite rims. The description Matt had recited at the Collector’s house was spot-on. A deep round vessel of bronze, sculpted with four masks of warriors with slender bodies forming the feet of the Cauldron. It glowed with a richness that seemed more than natural. “Oh, aren’t you a beauty!” Matt whispered reaching out to touch it. “It’s a lovely thing, reminiscent of the ‑‑”

  She grasped his arm. “Matt! Don’t forget according to legend only the true of heart may touch that thing. After what we’ve being doing since we came here, do you really think we’d qualify?”

  He lowered his arm. “Good point.” He walked around the table. “But what else can we do? We’ve got to get it out of here and back to the barrow somehow.”

  “Maybe the curse won’t work if we wrapped something around the handles? That way we won’t be touching the metal.”

  “I’m not sure.” Rubbing his jaw, he frowned at the artifact. “It couldn’t be as easy as that.”

  “Matt, come on!” she said, looking at the hatchway. “Granddad isn’t going to stay asleep forever!” Unpinning her cloak, she handed it to him. “We’ve got to risk it. Drape this over the handles and see if you can lift it.”

  “Okay, guess we’ll have to try.” He did as she directed, making sure the cloak covered the handles. “There; that should do it,” he said, spreading his arms to grasp the handles through the fabric. “Here goes ‑‑ urk!”

  As his fingertips touched the cloth, he jerked as if electrocuted.

  “Matt!” Kate cried, and dragged at his arm.

  “AAAhhhHHHHUUHHHHHH!”

  Matt’s whole body shook so violently, he flung her off; Kate crashed to the floor and rolled under the table. Shaking her head, she scuttled out on all fours and stood upright, just in time to see the terrible transformation that came over her companion.

  “No!” Kate screamed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  A horrible roaring filled Matt’s head, and he screamed. The cauldron blazed with brazen light, filling his eyes and mind until he thought they would burst asunder. Kate was screaming, and cowering away from him. His entire body felt as if it was being twisted into a pretzel, and he screamed again.

  He loved the cauldron; he feared the cauldron. He couldn’t walk away from it, but he knew if he didn’t, he would surely perish. And so would Kate. He turned to her, reaching for her, and she screamed again and dashed for the exit.

  Matt took two strides and caught her up in his arms. “Got ‑‑ to ‑‑ get ‑‑ you ‑‑ out ‑‑ of ‑‑ here!” he gasped.

  And somehow they were on the bottom floor. The pain he felt was so awful he thought he might die; Matt roared in agony as he hurled Kate clear of the tower.

  Kate rolled over and over, the breath knocked from her, until she fetched up against a bush and lodged under it. Fighting her way clear, she sat up, winded, and saw the horrible fate which had befallen Matt.

  He stood, swaying at the base of the tower, a huge, naked, hulking figure. His once beautiful body was now a grotesque caricature of what it had been, the cock she’d once had deep inside her now an erect, bulging weapon of destruction. She felt the cuts and scrapes on her palms and legs, sustained in the mad descent from the tower, and wept to know that some vestige of the man she loved had fought the enchantment long enough to save her.

  Matt now faced the other giant, her grandfather. Matt’s screams of anguish had woken the ogre, and he stood now, his club in his hand, facing the interloper. Any vague hope that the two would ally to guard the cauldron against intruders and give her at least the ghost of a chance at saving them was dashed when they squared up to fight.

  A shadow fell upon Kate, and she looked up to see Fergus, a look of disgust on his face. Before she could speak, his foot lashed out and connected with her head. Her vision flashed, and everything went black.

  Fergus sighed and shook his head as he walked away from Kate’s recumbent form. It was a pity to treat a beautiful woman so, but a higher cause drove him now. The two giants were squaring up to fight; that much was certain. He could use the distraction to slip into the tower, retrieve the cauldron and be away before they knew about it. The Druidess Mór had told him what to do to gain control of the relic without suffering the curse. It was a pity for her that he’d not be returning it to Connacht.

  Once-Matt and Once-Thomas Susadi leapt for each other and collided like fighting bulls, the impact making the earth tremble under Fergus’ feet. He smiled as he skirted the edge of the fight. The bounty within the tower would rehabilitate him in the eyes of the family Mac Nessa and bring a useful weapon into the fight against Connacht.

  A sharp pain jabbed into the side of Kate’s head, bringing her to the verge of consciousness. She mumbled a curse, her tongue thick in her mouth. Something landed on her shoulder and applied a pair of pliers to her ear, tweaking it ‑‑ hard.

  That brought her round with a jerk, and she opened her eyes and batted at whatever was hurting her. Forcing her eyes to focus, she saw a crow standing some two feet away. It stooped and regarded her in turn, its head cocked to one side. Seeming to be satisfied that she was once more in the land of the living, the crow winked in a very human manner, sniffed loudly, and took off over her head, batting her face with its feathery wingtips.

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nbsp; A dull thudding, like steak mallets beating meat every second, impinged on her hearing. Sitting up, she fought off a wave of nausea and looked around. The two giants were trading blows, one every second, both pounding each other without any sign of either winning. She’d no idea how long the combat had lasted. Her head ached where Fergus had kicked her, and she looked around, alert now her memory had returned. The bard was nowhere in sight, but she knew where he’d be.

  Both giants were battering each other with solid, meaty blows that would have felled an elephant. Neither took any interest in her as she skirted the fight, well out of range, and slipped inside the lower level of the tower. As she looked up at the hatch, a shadow moved across it, and she could hear the notes of Fergus’ harp. Why he was serenading the cursed cauldron was beyond her, but she knew what she had to do. Setting her teeth to stop them chattering with fright, she began to climb.

  It was only a matter of some fifteen feet of height but the stairs were steep, requiring her to pull herself up. Her grazed palms were in agony by the time she reached the top of the stone steps. She listened, keeping just below the level of the hatch, and heard the sweet music of the harp. Risking a peep over the edge, she saw Fergus was concentrating on playing, his attention fixed on the cauldron. It may have been a trick of the light, but the huge vessel appeared to be glowing.

  Suddenly Fergus stopped playing; he’d seen something which she’d missed. He gave a sigh of satisfaction and set his harp aside. Kate followed the brief movement as he did and saw Matt’s sword lying near where Fergus set the instrument.

  The renegade wore a broad smile of accomplishment as he reached out for the Cauldron of Fire. All the anger that had built in her since she’d come to this land surged up and overwhelmed her fear. With one smooth rush, she rose out of the hatchway and snatched up the sword. Fergus jumped, stumbled and grasped the cauldron to steady himself. Nothing happened, which she found disappointing; it would’ve saved her from doing what she must. She leveled the sword point at his breast. “Don’t move, you bastard!”