Gathering: Action Adventure Fantasy (Tuatha Legends Series Book 2): Tuatha Legends Series, #2

By P.M. Gilbert

Evil hunts them. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, or so they say...

 

Destiny beckons, it has an alternate path for them, one they didn't ask for. Evil hunts them.

 

Finn, Cerys, George and Arlene are riding a wave of shock and discovery. It seems they have no choice but to accept their destiny. The only solution seems is to move forwards and embrace their new lives. Can they match the expectations set for them?

 

The four friends attend an induction ceremony into the Tuatha clan. Through mystical rituals, their unique talents and powers are revealed. Finn and Arlene receive particularly unusual test results that baffle their mentors. As the teenagers start their training, they begin to learn more about their heritage and the ongoing battle between good and evil.

 

Do they have the potential to be the heroes that Boru believes are coming to help save the Tuatha from complete annihilation by the Fomorians?

 

Will the Determinations ceremony reveal them to be frauds or will they have the talent and ability to develop the skills they will need to help the Tuatha in their struggle against the Fomorie?

 

With new abilities to master, clan secrets unfolding, and dangerous enemies drawing nearer, the foursome find themselves on an epic adventure. They will need courage, wit and determination to survive the gathering darkness and fulfil their destinies. Gathering delivers magic, thrills and fun - a must-read for fans of Action Adventure Fantasy!

 

GATHERING is the second book in the Tuatha Legends Series. 

Gathering is the second book in the Tuatha Legends fantasy series by P.M. Gilbert. It continues the story of Finn, Cerys, George, and Arlene, four teenagers who discover they have magical abilities and a destiny to help save the Tuatha clan from their mortal enemies, the evil Fomorians.

 

READERS: Please note. These books are set in Ireland, England, Scotland and Wales. As a result they are written in UK English - spellings of some common words will vary from US spellings - They are not typographical errors.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vida Moda Ltd
• Release date: Jun 5, 2024
• ISBN: 9781739154349

Book preview

1

Balor

Balor sat brooding at the centre of a heavy ornate oak table, laid with silver plate and cutlery, enough for 13 places. Three silver candelabras, each with 12 candles cast flickering light across the broad expanse of the table. The only other illumination came from an enormous roaring fire in a vast inglenook fireplace on the opposite side of the room.

Despite its size, it barely provided sufficient heat against the tumult of the cold and wild weather that raged beyond the castle walls in the far north of Scotland. The vast room made the enormous table look insignificant. Hand-hewn oak beams stretched between the walls three stories above Balor. Three raggedly dressed serfs stood fearfully in the shadows of the shallow alcoves behind him.

He was alone at the table, picking at the remains of his food, a glowering expression on his face as he pondered the future. His dinner companions had left, they had gorged on the best game and produce that his estates could provide and taken their fill of his fine cellar.

Balor contemplated his lot. He was at war with the world; successfully but surreptitiously reaping the fruits and benefits of his labour. But success didn’t come easily, and it was not without a price. He leaned back in the tall ornately carved chair and pondered how he might continue to keep the 12 tribes of the Fomórie under his command in check.

His grandfather’s counsel had always been that he watch his enemies and opponents closely. What better way to achieve this than at an official banquet with an abundance of food and ready wine.

Balor’s banquets had caused many a man to relax his guard and inadvertently give hints as to the desires of his inner soul. In addition, his network of informants alerted him to those who might covet his position and power. He trusted no one.

Balor chuckled at some of the things he’d seen and heard. He stroked his heavy beard and reflected that for all his cunning with his regular banquets, he still didn’t have insight into the hearts of the cleverest of his potential opponents.

He had a permanent feeling that mutiny was never far away and he would need to continue to be wary of Angus and Fiachra in particular. They were effective leaders and while their tribes were not the largest; they were the wealthiest and the most influential of all the tribal chieftains.

One of his lieutenants, Dougall, came through the colossal oak doors at the far end of the room and broke Balor’s train of thought. The silver spurs on his boots rang sharply on the rough flagstones as his trench coat flapped about his legs. He stopped in front of the table, a flicker of fear crept across his face momentarily. Long greasy straggly hair framed his aquiline face and mean eyes. He took a pocket watch from the fob pocket of his tartan waistcoat and flicked open the engraved lid with a long, grubby finger nail and swallowed nervously.

I’m sorry for my late entrance Master. I was delayed a number of times on my journey here.

Balor waved his hand nonchalantly and said nothing. His dark thoughts about mutiny weighed heavily on him. Dougall’s late arrival scarcely bothered him. Dougall breathed a sigh of relief. He’d seen men brutally punished by Balor for far less.

He shuffled his feet nervously before delivering his report.

The news is not good Master, the Tuatha contacted each of the four children that our source informed us about. As planned, we tried to rob three of them of the talismans given to them. We were unsuccessful on each occasion as we encountered fierce resistance and interference from the Tuatha. They have given each child a guardian.

Balor leaned back in his chair. He regarded Dougall silently. Outwardly calm, he was seething inside at the failure of his men and that once again, Boru had incredible luck in thwarting his plans.

Dougall shuffled his feet. His nervousness was at odds with his vicious personality. He carried on speaking, as Balor hadn’t responded.

Two of the children showed remarkable fighting capabilities. Obviously untrained Master, but talented beyond normal. They have gifts they don’t appear to be aware of. I fought with the Scottish girl, and I was lucky to escape. Fiachra’s men were not so lucky in their encounter with the Irish boy. The youngsters will be formidable opponents when they are fully grown and trained. The Prophecy could well come to pass if we fail to eliminate them.

He paused, waiting for a reaction. Balor waved his hand, bidding him to continue.

Angus’s men captured Rhys Jenkins and infiltrated his mind in order that we could gain more information about the chosen ones. Fate intervened and the Welsh Witch got to him quickly and reversed the mind hold before we could benefit from it.

Balor remained motionless for a few minutes, belaying the fact his mind was ablaze with rage. He exploded. As he roared in fury, he leapt to his feet, his face red with anger and his eyes wild.

Balor placed his battle roughened hands under the table in front of him and heaved effortlessly. The enormous table left the ground and barrel rolled in the air, spinning about its long axis, causing everything on it to fly in all directions.

Dougall ducked and raised his arms protectively. The spinning table flew at him and over his head before loudly crashing to the stone floor behind him. He watched Balor warily, resisting a powerful desire to back away from him.

Balor stood before him, still livid and breathing heavily. Specks of spittle flew as he shouted, We will not let them be victorious! I will have control. Mere children and the feeble efforts of the Tuatha will not thwart or hinder us from achieving our desires and destiny.

He strode past Dougall without another word, leaving him quivering and grateful that he had survived giving his report unscathed.

George

2

Malky

George made it to Malky’s house without further incident. It was a typically small but tidy brick Victorian terraced house. George went down the alleyway at the side. The first floor extended over the alley, giving it larger bedrooms than its neighbours.

George was out of breath as he rapped on the back door. He looked around nervously, seeing nothing but the tiny cobbled back yard which held Mrs. White’s neatly maintained collection of plants, small shrubs and flowers in earthenware pots.

All the pleasure of a garden without the work. She’d always say to George while Malky rolled his eyes in boredom at hearing this stock phrase again.

Just as George was about to knock on the door again, it opened, revealing Mrs. White wiping her floury hands on a tea towel.

She beamed, Oh hello George, Malky’s out at athletics club. I didn’t know you were coming around.

George just gulped, still catching his breath, his shoulders heaving. It was all he could do not to bend over and put his hands on his knees. With a frown of concern Malky’s Mum said, Come in and sit down George, you are as white as a sheet, are you ok?

She sat him down at the kitchen table. George got his breath back and when he could speak sense and said, Yes please Mrs White, a cup of tea will be lovely. Thank you.

Mrs. White was a very traditional mum. She bustled about making George a mug of tea, making small talk all the time while looking at him curiously.

He asked, What time will Malky be back?

Mrs White looked at the clock on the pale yellow wall opposite the main run of cream-coloured kitchen cupboards.

Malky should be back in half an hour, and his dinner will be ready by then. Would you like to stay for dinner George? There’ll be enough for all of us.

George nodded, Yes, please Mrs White, that would be great.

After the stresses of the afternoon and the mention of dinner, he was hungry. Mrs White placed the tea on a cork coaster in front of him. She also put a small plate of biscuits on the table, saying, Only digestives mind, I don’t want to spoil your dinner.

She sat opposite him and gathered herself together. Right young man, tell me what is going on.

George took a careful sip of his drink. He was well prepared. Mrs White always made scalding hot sweet tea. He looked at her, thinking about what he could say. He couldn’t tell her the full story. She wouldn’t believe it, or she’d be horrified and take him straight down to the police station. No, the truth was not an option.

George picked up a biscuit to buy time to think before shrugging his shoulders. Oh, you know, it’s just some hassle at school. There’s a couple of gangs in school and I seem to be caught in the middle of their turf war.

For a moment Mrs White looked at him with a stern and disapproving look before asking, You’re not a gang member are you, George?

Seeing the look of consternation on her face he said, Oh no, Mrs White, I’m not, but I’m being picked on by boys in one gang. I got chased this afternoon by one of the gangs. One of them, who I thought was a decent friend, turned out not to be. That’s all. I’m just sort of stuck in the middle.

He couldn’t add that Simon had pulled a knife on him. Mrs White would have called the police there and then. She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms, nose in the air, Drugs, she said and clucked disapprovingly, they are just bad news.

She carried on nodding with an air of authority, It’s always drugs in this area. She wagged a finger at him over the table. I warn Malky regularly you know? I tell him, be sensible, no drugs!

In a slightly less confident tone, I hope he stays away from them.

Having an idea what was coming next, George took another sip of tea in order to delay the inevitable questions about Malky and drugs.

With a disconsolate shrug of his shoulders he said, Yes, there’s always some hassle. There are always drugs in school despite the efforts the Head makes to stop them. They are fighting a losing battle.

Mrs White clucked again in disapproval. They should do more to stop it.

George carried on, But don’t worry, Malky and I don’t do drugs. We’re not involved in the gangs, but I know people who are. My mate this afternoon. He is involved, but I thought he wasn’t.

Yes, George, you must stay away from them and keep telling Malky to stay away too. She implored him.

He’s a good boy. He does many things, including sports. They keep him occupied and give things to do after school, which is important. It stops him from falling in with the wrong crowd. Haven’t you got a hobby or sport George, that you can immerse yourself in too?

George replied again, taking a mouthful of tea and shaking his head, thinking, This was a conversation he wanted to keep short.

No Mrs White, I’m not that sporty to be honest. I like my music, but I’m lazy and too gangly to be sporty. He said a with smile.

The back door burst open, saving