Free Emily's House (The Akasha Chronicles) by Natalie Wright Page B

time for additional tales. I must spend my last seconds telling you valuable information,” said Hindergog.
    “Where did Cathaír hide the torc?” asked Jake.
    Hindergog was beginning to fade.
    “Hurry,” I said. “Before you disappear, you’ve got to tell us where the torc is and what to do with it when we find it.”
    “I don’t know where the torc is my young mistress,” said Hindergog.
    “What?! You don’t know where it is? You start us on a wild goose chase, and you don’t even know where to look for the stupid thing,” I snapped. I was so mad at that little guy right then, if he were in the flesh, I probably would have tried to strangle him.
    “Please, calm yourself young Emily. I don’t know exactly where the torc is, but I do have some clues.”
    “Great, a madman is trying to screw up the whole world, and we have to go on a scavenger hunt,” said Fanny.
    “The torc’s residual energy from Saorla allowed me to “see” what it saw for a brief time after Saorla’s body died. Cathaír went north and east for three days, past the Slieve na Caillaigh hills and Loughcrew. He thought to bury the torc in a place no Christian man would search. He buried it underground at a Christian church on the sacred land of fair Tara. I can see a cross – what has come to be known as a ‘Celtic cross,’” said Hindergog.
    Hindergog was but a wisp, hardly there at all.
    “Hindergog, wait. You can’t fade yet. Tell us where to find Dughall and how to defeat him. And what do I do with the torc and where is the Sacred Grove and how do I. . . ”
    “Fair Emily, in my last seconds, let me tell you more about the dark one. His soul has spent over a thousand years in the land of Umbra Nihili, waiting for this opportunity.”
    “Umbra-what?” asked Fanny.
    “Opportunity for what,” plead Jake.
    “To achieve finally all that he desires. He wants to come to the Netherworld and thinks he can achieve his goals here,” said Hindergog.
    “But how will he do this?” asked Fanny.
    “He’ll be coming after the torc too, won’t he?” I asked.
    “He spent his life searching for the chalice in the belief that it was the key to opening the portal to the Netherworld. He has given up on the ancient key to open the portal. His eyes are set on a modern key.”
    “Modern key? What is this key?” asked Jake.
    “There is a machine – under the ground of the old world – very large – trying to turn mysteries and magic into formulas. . .”
    Hindergog was breaking up and fading in and out. We still needed him desperately. He was speaking in riddles. I needed straight answers.
    “What machine Hindergog? Where is he?” I pled.
    “Follow your heart Emily. Remember, you have the blood of my beloved mistress in your veins. You will know what to do. Listen to the hawk. . .”
    That was the last thing he said and then disappeared just as quickly as he had come. The three of us were alone, staring stupefied at the place where the image of Hindergog had been, alone in the quiet with only riddles to keep us company.

15. Puzzles
    I was never good at puzzles. It infuriated me that this freaky little thing would leave me with so many unanswered questions.
    “What the. . .?” said Fanny.
    “I know,” I said. “‘Listen to the hawk’. What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
    “That little nub left us without a clue as to where to go or what to do,” grumped Fanny.
    “Actually, he gave us quite a few clues,” said Jake.
    Fanny and I both glared hard at him. Fanny looked like she was going to throttle him.
    “Okay then, tell us where we’re going,” said Fanny.
    “Well, obviously we have to go to Ireland. ‘Fair Tara’,” retorted Jake.
    “Yeah, okay, we’ll go to Ireland. But Jake, Ireland isn’t exactly a tiny country. Where in Ireland are we going?” I asked.
    “I don’t know exactly, but we have clues so we can figure this out. He told us, it was past the Slieve na. . . something or other hills. And he