Chapter Forty-Nine: Horns
Harry hovered over the abyss, breath harsh in his throat as he panted for air. The last thing he remembered was the eshu's eyes, strange and gleaming, as through he could see more, just as Harry could.
Maybe he's an eshu dreamer, Harry fisted his hands and tried to find his balance. In the absolute blackness, up and down lost all meaning. He told his stomach to stop its quivering and looked around.
His body was probably screaming, but in the abyss, Harry felt no pain. He wasn't sure if it was a spirit-body disconnect like when he had taken the Vision Potion, but nonetheless, not having to writhe in agony while he searched for information was a bonus in his book.
The abyss was rife with chaos. Harry could see the strands of the future snapping, one by one. Every so often he got flashes of others, men and women, trying to keep the futures together through sheer will-power alone.
Another god – goddess, Harry corrected himself, seeing an image of the woman flash in front of him – was gone. The Dark God was moving faster, confident, it seemed, in his own power and the ability of the gods to do nothing.
What can I do? He sent the question out into the Dark, hoping for an answer. Sometimes he was lucky; the last few times he had tried it, it had seemed to work.
The problem with asking, was that the abyss never seemed to know how to answer in a human way. The rush of images, futurepresentpast would bombard him all at once, just like…
Bill. Bill at Black Manor. Bill with a beautiful woman on his arm, laughing with Remus. Bill in Egypt, a scar cutting down one side of his face. Bill, old and gray, sitting surrounded by children. Bill…
A horn. A clear, ringing trumpet filled his ears, like a French horn hitting a high note, causing his bones to ache. Yes, yes, a horn to call – to call –
Harry was thrown, screaming, from the abyss, mind and hands grasping for a man a world away.
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The world was almost ready. Crom Cruach stretched out one hand, feeling the way reality pushed back against his skin. Yes, oh yes, things were almost ready.
His Priest was curled at his feet, expression upturned, adoring. His worshippers continued their orgies of flesh and blood – the occasional scream could still be heard from the crowd of mortality behind him.
The time was almost right. Soon, with just one more death, he would be able to snap the bonds of time. Soon, soon his plans, his dreams, all of it would unfold in brilliant glory. Soon, the failure of Tigernmas and the past would be put to rest for all time. The gods were defenseless against him. The two who had spilled his blood in the past were already his for the slaughtering. And better yet, the gods had mislaid their precious Horn of Calling, leaving him free to do as he pleased.
One last rush of mortal deaths and he would be ready. He lifted one hand and heard the ecstatic moans rise in pitch from behind him. His Priest rose to do his bidding.
The crying children were led out of the earthen pits, struggling against their captors.
Crom Cruach smiled.
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Harry blinked back to awareness, wincing at the bright glare of a noonday sun beating down on him.
"Draco?" His throat felt raw, but not bloody. Things were looking up.
"Here," the blond helped him into a sitting position and pushed a cup into his hands. Harry drank, spilling a little as the tremors in his hands sloshed the water over the sides.
"How long?" He asked.
"Little less than four hours," Draco peered into Harry's eyes, a habit he had seemed to pick up from Madam Pomfrey.
"Professor Snape?"
"Standing guard."
"Guard?"
"The eshu wanted to take you," Draco's expression was fierce.
"Ah," Harry passed a hand over his face. "Got a towel?"
"Just this," Draco pressed a handkerchief into Harry's fist and turned to check on Snape.
Harry followed his gaze. The Potions Master stood a few feet from them, stance wide, and an…
"Why does the professor have an axe in his hands?" Harry felt faint. It – he knew – he's seen something like that…hadn't he?"
"It was leaning against one of the shops," Draco helped Harry stand and steadied him against the resulting wobble.
"It was just there or did it appear?"
"I wasn't paying attention…why?"
Harry shook his head. "I've…I think I've seen this before. Something like this. I think. It's muddled."
Draco put an arm around Harry's waist and squeezed. Harry gave the blond a smile and turned back to the stand off at hand.
Professor Snape stood in front of them in all of his wiry glory, axe in one hand, wand in the other. By all right he should have looked silly, Harry mused. Instead, the Potions Master seemed to give off a deadly menace that kept the crowd of gathered eshu at bay.
"S-Sir?" Harry had to clear his throat and try again. "I'm all right now, sir."
"So we see, Dreamer," Rasheed, the head eshu, replied.
"Harry," Snape said without turning. "Do you wish to follow these…men?"
"That was what we came here for," Roan pointed out. Harry blinked. He hadn't seen the selkie where he was leaning up against one of the wooden posts of the Market stalls.
"Harry?" Snape said again.
Harry took a deep breath and eyed the crowd. Rasheed stood in the center, a host of Paths radiating out from him, all as brilliant as the moon. "Yes," he said, "We can trust them."
"That was not what I asked, Mr. Potter."
"That's all the answer I can give you."
Snape's stance relaxed as he moved back a step. The axe lowered to the ground, but the older wizard did not let it go.
Rasheed stepped forward, hands slipping free from his sleeves. "We are running out of time, Dreamer."
"Yeah," Harry blew out a sharp breath. "I know." Anticipation and dread began to boil in his gut.
"The Path will not be quick," Rasheed tilted his head to one side. "But all that was lost shall be found again. I will help you find it, Dreamer. This I have sworn."
Draco's arm tensed as Harry drew in a shaky breath. "Well, then," he said. "Let's get going."
Rasheed's triumphant smile showed teeth.
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Bill slammed the front door of Black Manor open with a resounding bang.
"Hey, now!"
Bill had his wand out, ready for them. Remus was easy to petrify with a single shot. Sirius dove for cover, making Bill work a little harder at his query.
The animagus was furious at him, but Bill paid the man's words little heed. He needed to pin the ex-Auror down, just like Remus. It was hard to concentrate with all the noise in his head, though. The sound of a horn, now more than a hunting call than anything from a muggle symphony, kept sounding in his ears.
Sirius made a mistake by moving to the sitting room for more cover. Bill used the mirrors and had the man wrapped in spells within a minute. Sirius was red-faced and furious by the time Bill had dragged Remus to the room and propped him up next to his adoptive father.
"What the hell is the meaning of this?" Sirius' hair was plastered to one side of his face.
Bill shook his head and flicked his wand at the adults. All of his instincts were screaming at him to be careful, go slow, but the urgency that had settled into his bones bucked at every delay.
Cracking his knuckles, Bill set to work, lips peeled back into an unconscious snarl. The layers of spells on the two men were thick. Remus showed more signs of resistance – but then again, Sirius' mental protections had been shredded by his years in Azkaban. Fondorn would have known how to manipulate that – because of his job as a Healer, his priority should have been to fix those broken protections, not bend them even further.
Bill did not pity the Healer when he was done with Sirius. Fondorn had many debts to pay to the Black family. Bill intended for the man to repay every single one.
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Harry followed the eshu with Draco close on his heels. They had left the Market hours ago. The Path the eshu had chosen for them led straight into the Dark. The Path beneath their feet pulsed in time with Harry's heart – or else his heart was determined to keep time with it.
The looming Dark pressed in on either side of them. Professor Snape brought up the rear, the axe still in his offhand, held close to his side. The wizard had seemed to forget it was there until Harry had mentioned it – even then, all Snape had done was flex his hand around the handle and frown at the weapon. Harry had decided to leave the man be about it. He could make up his own mind. Roan paced between them and Snape, hands in his pockets and appearing more than comfortable following a fabled creature into the unknown.
"You're sure it's this way?" Draco asked.
"Quite," Rasheed's colorful robe stood out against the gloom of the Dark. "I can smell it."
"Smell what?"
"What you've lost."
Draco frowned at the man, but Harry was the one to ask the next question. "How – I mean what, do you smell?"
Rasheed tipped a glance over his shoulder. "If I tell you that, you may remember, Dreamer. And then we would be lost."
Harry heard Draco snort and mutter under his breath.
"But," Harry was about to try again when Rasheed stopped and held up a hand.
A weak cry floated out from the darkness. Harry pushed past the frozen eshu before Draco could stop him. The Path spiraled out under his feet – he heard Severus shout his name, but forged on.
Doors rose out of the Dark, the tall structure closing even as he dashed closer. A small girl was huddled next to a dark pool, hand covering her face as she cried. Feathers covered the floor around her.
"Harry!" Draco shouted. "Harry, come back!"
"Dreamer, do not enter!" Rasheed's roar echoed through the Dark, causing the girl's head to snap up and look at Harry.
Her dark eyes encompassed the world. Harry felt his breath stutter in his chest. The girl's eyes went wide. She threw up a hand and it was as if Harry had hit a wall. The breath rushed from his lungs in a pained wheeze. She shook her head and the doors slammed shut inches from his face and vanished into the Dark with a sigh.
"Harry!" Draco's arms came around him, pulling him back against a broad chest.
Harry reached out, a wordless cry building in his throat. "Didn't you see it?" he demanded. "There were feathers!"
"Feathers? Harry…"
"All over the ground! The girl was sitting on a pile of them!"
"Harry!" Draco turned him around and shook him. "There was no girl!"
"But…"
"No," Rasheed spoke up. "There was a door, young man, and a girl."
Draco's grip relaxed. He glanced towards the eshu. "There was? But all I saw…"
Rasheed knelt in front of Harry. The eshu was still tall enough so it was more that Harry could look him in the eyes without straining. "Do you know why she shut you out, Dreamer?"
Harry shook his head.
"That little girl is Hel," Rasheed touched Harry's cheek with cool fingers. "She is a mistress of the underworlds. To enter her halls is to never leave, if you are mortal."
"But…" Harry protested over Draco's choked sound. "There were feathers. The Morrigan may have been there."
Rasheed tapped Harry on the nose. "Who do you trust to lead you to the right place, silly boy? You have a mortal's nose and mortal's senses. Leave the trails to me."
"…Yes, sir." Harry ducked his head as Rasheed got to his feet and moved away.
"Don't do that," Draco muttered once the eshu had moved off. Severus laid a hand on Harry's shoulder, doubling the sudden guilt that gripped him. "Or at least take us with you," Draco finished.
Harry quirked an eyebrow at the other boy. "Take you with me?"
"Well," the blond tried to smile at him. "I figure if you end up in an underworld, the best plan would be to have a pair of Slytherins with you. We'd be able to talk our way out of there. Eventually."
Harry let out a huff of laughter and linked his hand with Draco's. "Three Slytherins, Draco. Don't count me out."
"Never."
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Crom Cruach surveyed the grounds. This last death he would perform himself. It would not do to have his worshippers fail him at the last. No, this was too important to trust to another, even to his Priest.
Tyche's cave was lined with glowing wards; Hermes' touch, he was sure. Crom Cruach was willing to bet the other awakened gods were milling about, wild with confusion and panic. To awaken after so long, only to have the world be torn out from under them…Oh, yes, Crom Cruach could imagine the panic the gods had to be feeling.
His followers were spread out in the woods surrounding the cave. The skies were still the same rust brown color, with the occasional crackle of sheet lightning flaring in the west. The slaughter of the children had given him enough power to bring them all the way, silent under Ares' paranoid watch of his boarders. Oh, yes, it was time.
He rushed forward, the wills and magic of his followers shattering the wards that meant to keep Tyche safe. There was a scream, high and piercing from inside the cave. He caught the blonde as she dashed for the exit, the draped toga slipping off her shoulder and exposing her breasts. The goddess thrashed against his hold, even as his Priest made a low, hungry sound in the back of his throat.
Using the last of the power gathered from the children, Crom Cruach took his people away from the ruined cave, vanishing without a whisper as all the fury of the Olympian gods crashed down on the small clearing.
Crom Cruach had secured his last victim with ease.
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As interesting as it was to watch Sirius destroy room after room of Black Manor, Bill had a more pressing concern on his mind.
The blinding headache had set in after he had managed to free the older men from the curses they were under. The resounding call of a horn kept sounding in his head, growing stronger, louder with each passing hour. His teeth ached from clenching them against the pain. Remus had his own hands full of attempting to keep the animagus from self-harm as well as controlling his own impulses to rage and destroy all that was in his path. They were trapped in the manor, Fondorn away in muggle London and the wards would not let them leave the house.
Still, a headache potion would have been nice.
Bill bent forward, holding his head in his hands. Sirius' warpath had ventured up stairs to the junk rooms. The muffled sounds of things exploding drifted down to the sitting room from time to time.
"Bill?"
He looked up to see Remus standing in the entrance. He let his hands drop with a sigh.
"Yes, Remus?"
"Are you…well?" It was an absurd question, Bill mused. But then again, it was an absurd time.
"I…have been having strange dreams," he admitted. "About this house. About something in the house."
"For how long?" Remus entered the room. The sounds of destruction from above had stopped.
"Since Harry was here with us," Bill admitted. "It got worse at Yule."
"What do you dream about?" Sirius asked, surprising them both.
Bill looked the animagus over. Dust and plaster made the dark hair prematurely gray. "A horn," he said. "I hear a horn in my dreams," he rubbed at his face with shaky hands. "Merlin, I hear it even now."
"A…horn?" Sirius frowned, tilting his head back to consider the ceiling. Bill felt a spike of worry stab through him. He had an idea as to how fragile Sirius' mindset was, but if the animagus had taken a turn around the bend…
"My Uncle Alphard used to say," Sirius blinked and tipped his head back down to lock gazes with Bill. "My uncle Alphard used to say that long, long ago the Black family were keepers of something very precious, very special to all the old ways. He never said what it was and once my mother caught him whispering to me she never let him in the house again." Sirius shook his head as his shoulders slumped. "Perhaps that is what you are looking for."
"Would it…" Bill's heart leapt to his throat. "Do you think it would be here?"
"Here would be the only place we have to look," Remus laughed, the sound devoid of humor.
"The Manor is were the family put all the things they wished to forget," Sirius said, voice soft in the tense silence of the room. "Where better to look?"
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The blood of Tyche painted all of his available skin. Crom Cruach sat back on a mound of moaning, writhing flesh and popped another joint of finger into his mouth. The roasted skin was crispy, blackened by the pyre. The tender meat was succulent, ready to fall off the bone as he worried at the joint with his teeth.
His orders were ready. His followers were primed. His Priest was on his way with the strongest of his seconds, to take their two guests of honor from their waiting room. There was no reason to wait. Crom Cruach had all the power he needed. It was time. He threw back his head and laughed, congratulating himself on his plan. Yes, it was time and time was all his. He spat out the bone in his mouth, the small lump disappearing into the sea of flesh surrounding him.
He would bring the fire and the sword to all and everything. The storms had started. The gods themselves had no way to stop him. There would be no Tigernmas to foul his plans once more.
From the depths of the Dark, the Morrigan and Gwyn ap Nudd would be brought to take their places on his altar and end all of the worlds together.
End Chapter Forty-Nine