The cavern was dark, illuminated only by torches which filled the air with the smell of pitch, which blended noisomely with the scent of ancient spilled blood. The flickering firelight shone against yellowed bones, skeletal remains which were being reassembled with intricate care by clawed fingers. With a sibilant hiss of satisfaction, the skull was finally clicked into place.
Brian looked at the pale young man in the monk's robe. "You're saying we had the same dream, Feron?"
Feron nodded, "Although I may have the advantage in knowing how to interpret it; there can be little doubt to one of pure-blood extraction."
Brian folded his arms and waited patiently.
Feron sighed. He gestured magically, and cast a series of flickering images on the wall of the small office in the monastery: a single figure dominated all of them. "Twelve thousand years ago, the mightiest of the Atlantean necromancers was a man named Thulsa Doom. A worshipper of Set, his intelligence survived the fall of Atlantis.
"When my ancestor for whom I am named fought Doom, he was unable to defeat him, and instead banished him. During the following era, Doom went on to lose his talisman, a necklace made of orichalcum in which were set a pair of magical gems known as the Eyes of the Serpent God, and without its help he was eventually destroyed by Cormac mac Art. I believe my ancestor looked into the future, could tell that nothing could stop someone from using the lost item to revive Doom as a lich - an undead sorcerer - and sent you out to contact me."
Brian stroked his chin thoughtfully, running his fingers through the fiery red hair of his beard. "Ever since I returned home from the battle against the Fomor in the shining land of Tir Sorcha, I've sought to avoid wizardry. I think it almost drove me mad, at one point."
"I know ye never completely felt at ease with me," Feron said. "But trust me in this: you have to do anything you can to prevent Thulsa Doom from achieving his goals."
"Do ya have any idea where this ... talisman ... might be located?"
Feron furrowed his brow. "It would be in one of the fairy hills in the mountains of Connemara, which still hold relics of ancient times."
Brian nodded, "I'll contact Mr. McFadden, and have him summon the rest of Caladbolg. Thank you, Feron."
Later, as he stepped outside the monastery at Contae Shligigh, Brian Cullan fingered the unlocking ring given to him by Maelduin and Roma at Darkmoor, all those years ago. With a force like lightning, he was transformed into the armoured form of Captain Eire, and he took to the skies.
"Sorcery ... and powerful too, from the sound of it," said Black Tom as Captain Eire counseled his comrades, carefully channeling bio-electric energy through his shillelagh in order to illuminate their path as they passed through the ring of trees by the side of a hill and into a cavern.
"This Doom character sounds scary just from what you've told me." Siryn shifted her weight, her body showing her tension, "I wish Uncle Cain and Rachel hadn't taken off back to the States."
"Our luck will see us through, as always," said Shamrock with a wink. "Although good luck usually begins with a good plan. Captain?"
"Feron and I discussed some possibilities. He thinks he knows where the talisman is located. Finding that would put an end to Doom's plans before they started."
"Ah right, that's what you said, the 'fairy hills,'" said Black Tom. "I'd mock words like that if I'd not seen odder things growin' up in the Keep."
As they continued deeper into the cavern, the stone walls began to change in character, becoming hewn stone rather than a natural formation. The carvings and ornamentations were vaguely unsettling, as if designed for an unhuman aesthetic. There was a something antagonistic to tranquility in every angle of its many crooked corners.
They began to approach an area which was internally lit, and Black Tom extinguished his own light at a glance from Captain Eire. Siryn began a low hum at the base of her throat, modulating it to create an area of null sound which rendered the quartet's progress completely silent. Through the silence was heard another voice, a man chanting in an ancient hibernian dialect, a voice familiar to the human listeners.
"Coll Dhu," Black Tom hissed.
"He's always fancied himself the greatest villain in all Ireland," Captain Eire mused, "and it seems he's still trying to hold up his reputation."
"It's bad luck he'll be havin' now," Shamrock grinned.
Captain Eire nodded thoughtfully. "Siryn, enough of secrecy. It's time to make our presence known." He gestured towards his comrades, his voice raised in a shout as they flew towards their opponent, "Faugh an bealach!"
"Oh, by Gor," the necromancer grumbled as Captain Eire's battle cry interrupted his ritual. "Another bloody do-gooder!" His voice turned to curses as the patriotically clad hero soared by him, removing the talisman from his grasp.
Shamrock grinned. "Now, you're going to surrender peacefully, boyo, or else..."
The shadow of an immense wolf, as Coll Dhu moved, followed him like a servant where he went, and grew more firm and distinct in outline. Crouching, it leapt at the Captain in a fierce attack. He grunted as he slammed into the ground, the wolf atop him. Shamrock winced, "Saints alive, Captain, the beast's magical ... I can do nothing to help ye ... "
Captain Eire grunted in pain as the wolf's claws and teeth raked at his armour. "Would you be wanting a wee bit of help, Captain?" Black Tom asked. His bio-electric energy and Siryn's concussive blasts of sonic force combined into an indomitable force which knocked the animal off his victim, howling in pain. Captain Eire gathered the talisman to him and fled back up the caverns through which they'd passed.
"Sniff him out, Lupus," Coll Dhu shouted, "drag him back to us!" The wolf circled for a moment and then flew through the wall in the direction the Captain had taken.
"As for the others," Coll Dhu said, "yer' mad if ye think ye can just waltz in here and play me for a fool!" He took up his staff, made of etched blackthorn, and began tracing arcane runes on the floor of the cavern. The ground cracked at the runes, crimson light pouring out, and there went a rushing moan all round the weird room, that seemed like a gust of wind forcing in through the crannies as from them Coll Dhu conjured up the imps of the inferno, gibbering and chattering insanely. They began to pick and pluck at the remaining trio, their fingers and prehensile toes burning sulfurously.
Black Tom, Shamrock, and Siryn battled fiercely, finding their energies depleted as their opponents barely noticed. Shamrock groaned in frustration, wondering whether the mystic forces which served to serve her with luck in battle were simply inadequate against an infernal foe. "Saints preserve us, but they're strong ...
"Still, it'll be takin' more than just strength to defeat this lot," Black Tom said with glittering eyes as he looked at his teammates, seeing their cuts and burns which matched his own. "Stand behind me, girls." He closed his eyes and channeled his power through his shillelagh, projecting it out into the shape of a gleaming cross. He heard a cursed series of screams, and opened his eyes to find the imps having fled.
Shamrock looked at him admiringly, "Mary Mother of God! Tom, 'tis wonderful you are! I didn't know ye were a believer, though."
"I bloody well did it," he muttered to himself. Then he turned to look at Shamrock, "There's a lot ye don't know about me."
The conversation was interrupted by the sound of Lupus, returning through the wall, dragging the wounded Captain Eire with him, along with the talisman. Coll Dhu sneered at the reunited quartet as he reached down to grab the necklace from the helpless Corpsman. "Yer' sore losers, Caladbolg," he said as he teleported himself and Lupus away.
Siryn shouted at his vanishing form, "You're making a big mistake, matey! Ye haven't seen the last of us!"
Shamrock ran over to the Captain, taking his head in his hands as he stirred. "Brian ... Brian ... are you all right? Sainted Mother, but that was bloody horrible to watch ... "
He reached up and took her by the hand. "You'd not think we had luck all 'round us, Molly Fitzgerald," he said with a pained smile. "Have some faith, me girl."
The darkness of the new moon cast no light over Easter Island. Atop a stone table, Coll Dhu continued his abhorrent rituals over the assembled skeleton, the necklace now draped over its neck as it had been once thousands of years ago. A great stench came from the corpse as it began to reverse the natural process of decomposition, flesh adhering once again to the body and slowly becoming whole, growing more visibly loathsome and hideous.
Thulsa Doom moved independently with long ugly limbs and rose once more; the face of the man was a bare white skull, in whose eye sockets the jeweled eyes of the serpent flamed livid fire as they looked out from his bended head. "A hundred centuries have I slept," he said, his voice creaking with unused-to speech. "Now once more shall I stride the Earth like a titan, free to rule."
As he spoke, an ebony aircraft swept down low, from which soared the quartet of colorful figures which comprised Caladbolg.
Coll Dhu looked upwards, "Yer' crazy if ye think ye can just waltz in here and play us for fools!"
"I'd say that's a matter of opinion, boyo," announced Captain Eire.
"You shall pass," said the ancient necromancer, "as did Kull, Conan, and Cormac mac Art before you ... all who opposed me." He gestured magically, and the immense stone heads which stood for untold time began to shift and move, immense bodies rising out of the Earth.
"Faugh an bealach!" Captain Eire shouted once again, and the team began to battle the giants defensively. But for all their menace, Doom's creations were slow and uncoordinated, and strikes from the team quickly finished them, leaving the heads crashing back to the ground as they were decapitated.
Doom scowled. "Very well ... I shall take the form of an enormous snake!" He gestured once more, but futilely. Glancing down at his untransformed figure, he announces, "Let snakes of many colors arise from the Earth to devour my enemies!"
Captain Eire strode forward, one massive fist striking Doom in the belly. The sorcerer fell to the ground and shouted in pain as blasts from Black Tom and Siryn coursed through his body. Finally the Captain reached down and removed the talisman, whereupon Doom crumbled back into dust.
Coll Dhu knelt down, "What ... what have ye done? How did you ... "
Captain Eire tossed the necklace to Black Tom, who caught it on his shillelagh, and a surge of power disintegrated the artifact. "Feron guided me to the talisman long before you found it," he told the despairing villain. "I substituted a fake version for the real one, and let you get away with the forgery; the real one is safe at Cassidy Keep."
Shamrock walked over and locked a pair of cuffs on the Coll Dhu's wrists. "Oh, get on with ya, Captain," she said with a grin. "'tis a wet blanket you are, to be sure!"
"What were ye after, Coll?" Black Tom leaned on his shillelagh, looking at the defeated villain. "I spent too many years myself obsessed with dark thoughts of revenge for imagined wrongs, before I entered the light. It's not like Thulsa Doom would have made ye a rich man."
"He said he'd bring back Evleen Blake," Coll Dhu said glumly. "My lost colleen … my love …"
"Love?" Siryn blinked in perplexity. ""You did all this, tried to bring back a monster like that, for love?"
"Evleen was never yours to lose," Captain Eire said. "When you tried to enchant her with a burragh-bos to change her hate to love, she went wild mad and sought her death and yours. Not even Thulsa Doom could have changed the human heart."
Siryn, Black Tom Cassidy, Shamrock, and Feron copyright and trademark Marvel Comics, Inc.
Brian Cullan copyright and trademark the estate of Edmond Hamilton.
Thulsa Doom copyright and trademark the estate of Robert E Howard.
Coll Dhu copyright and trademark the estate of Rosa Mulholland, whose works have been quoted from in the text.