"They were told man was not yet ready to possess such things."
Rubbing his jaw, Dageus fell silent, translating ahead. Just when Chloe felt like screaming, he began again.
"The Tuatha Dé decided they could no longer remain among mankind. That very eve, they vanished. 'Tis said that for three days after they left, the sun was eclipsed by dark clouds, the oceans lay still upon the shores, and all the fruit in the land withered on the limb.
"In their fury, the thirteen Druids turned to the teachings of an ancient, forbidden god, 'one whose name is best forgotten, hence not scribed herein.' The god to whom the Druids supplicated themselves was a primitive god, spawned in the earliest mists of Gaea. Calling upon those darkest of powers, armed with the knowledge the Tuatha Dé had given them, the Druids attempted to follow the immortal ones, to seize their lore, and steal the secret of eternal life."
"So they really were… er, are immortal?" Chloe breathed.
" 'Twould seem so, lass," Dageus said. He skimmed the text again. "Give me a moment, there are no comparable words for some of this." Another long pause. "I think this is the gist of it: What the thirteen did not know is that the realms—I can't think of a better word—within realms are impenetrable by force. Such travel therein is a delicate process of… er, sifting or straining time and place. In their attempt to brutalize or coerce a path between the realms, the thirteen Druids nearly tore them all asunder. The Tuatha Dé, sensing the distress in the… weaving of the world, returned to avert catastrophe.
"The Tuatha Dé's fury was immense. They scattered their once-friends, now bitter enemies, to the far corners of the earth. They punished the evil ones, the Druids who'd chosen greed over honor, who'd loved power more than they'd valued the sanctity of life—not by killing them—but by locking them into a place between realms, giving them the immortality for which they'd lusted. Eternity in nothingness, without form, without cease."
"By Amergin, would that not be hell?" Silvan breathed.
Chloe nodded with wide eyes.
Dageus made a choking noise. "Och, so that's who the Draghar are!"
"Who?" Chloe and Silvan said as one.
He frowned. "The scribe tells that even before the disagreement with the Tuatha Dé, the thirteen Druids had formed a separate, secret sect within the larger numbers of their brethren, with their own talisman and name.
Their symbol was a winged serpent, and they called themselves the Draghar."
It was Chloe's turn to make a strangled sound. "A w-winged serpent?"
Dageus glanced at her. "Aye. Does that mean something to you, lass?" he asked swiftly.
"Dageus, that man who attacked me in your penthouse—didn't you see his tattoo?"
He shook his head. "I saw it, but I didn't get a good look at it. I doona ken what it was."
"It was a winged serpent! I saw it up dose when he was on top of me in the kitchen."
"Bletherin' hell," Dageus exploded. "It begins to make sense." He leapt to his feet so abruptly that the Book of Manannan tumbled to the floor. "But…" he trailed off. "How could that be?" he muttered, looking baffled.
Chloe was about to ask what made sense and how what could be, when Silvan rose and retrieved the fallen tome. While Dageus paced, muttering beneath his breath, Silvan continued reading where Dageus had left off.
" 'Tis said that some time after the Druids were scattered, and the thirteen locked away in their prison, a small band of those who survived regrouped in an effort to reclaim their lost lore. Och, listen to this: An Order arose, founded upon the divination of a seer who claimed the Draghar would one day, far in the future, return and reclaim the powers the Tuatha Dé had stolen from them. Apparently this seer wrote a detailed prophecy, describing the circumstances under which the ancient ones would return, and the Druid sect of the Draghar was formed to watch and await such events that would signify the prophecy's fruition—" He broke off abruptly, read a few moments in silence, then flipped the page. Then he scanned through the final few remaining sheaves. "That's it. 'Tis all that was written about it." He cursed, skimming and reskimming the subsequent pages. Then he snapped the tome shut and placed it aside.
Chloe's mind was whirling as she watched Dageus pace. She and Silvan exchanged uneasy glances.
Finally Dageus stopped pacing and looked at his father. "Well, that seals it. Chloe and I must return to her century."
"Doona be hasty, lad," Silvan protested. "We need to reflect on this—"
"Nay, Da," he said, his features taut, his gaze dark. " 'Tis evident that the man who attacked Chloe was a member of this Draghar sect. Their prophecy must have guided them to me. From what we just read,'tis apparent they doona have the power of the stones, so they can't come through time after me. I doona know how to find the sect in this century, but in hers, they know where I am."