Legends of Green Isle: The Forgotten Spell

By Constance Wallace

Stewart Manor had a mystery, children disappeared. Matt and his little brother, Toby, did not know this when they moved to Georgia. Their new home contained memories of a past woven with a new adventure into a parallel dimension. Caught up in an ancient battle with an evil Warlock, Matt and his new friends set out on a quest to save Green Isle and all its magical creatures from destruction. Emerging from a magic portal into the world called Be'thasileth, the four friends embark on a journey to find Matt's little brother and others that were kidnapped. What they discover is a world that has called to them before in their dreams. "The Forgotten Spell" is the first book in the series of Legends of Green Isle, a Young Adult Fiction Fantasy collection.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Constance Wallace
• Release date: Jul 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005637545

Constance Wallace

As a small publishing company, we go above and beyond in helping and assisting to the needs of our Authors. Rainbow Crow Publishing, offers services in editing and design work. Together, Constance Wallace and her daughter Kelsey Wallace both strive to offer their time and skills to those who wish to be challenged. With Constance in editing and publications, Authors can rest easy with her guidance and calm spirit. As for Kelsey, you can find her knowledge in design work as well as book formatting. Rainbow Crow Publishing is accepting books in any genres, except any book focusing on the nature of only sexual themes. Please submit the first three chapters of your book and information regarding about the novel or series to [e-mail].

Book preview

Legends

Of

Green Isle

The Forgotten Spell

By:

Constance Wallace

Copyright @2010

Graphic Design by Kelsey N. Wallace

ISBN: 9781005637545

Published by Rainbow Crow Publishing

Denton, Texas

Dedicated to:

My wonderful children:

Chase, Calle, and Kelsey.

These books are for you

&

all children who love a good story.

I created them with my love.

Table of Content:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

And four shall come

Innocent of magic

One champion of the Sword be

And one takes the darkest seed.

To defeat the spell once forgotten

Traveling first to Fairy Dell

Following the Fomorian Road

To step upon the shore of Black Isle.

The quest for five

Ends with three

Yet the story ends not with these

But takes its turn in generations.

Until the mirror sliver is freed

And time follows the circle

For which the champion’s blood returns

The Sword to Green Isle.

CHAPTER ONE

It’s not going to be that bad.

In whose opinion? Matt glared at his mother in the front seat of their Ford.

I know moving to a new location isn’t what you wanted but there’s lots of opportunities to make something of it. Why don’t you wait to make an opinion about the town and its people until you meet them? It may surprise you.

It’s not Chicago. Never will be Chicago. He glanced out the car side window and watched the trickle of rain roll down the glass. Brushing a small dark curl of hair from his forehead, he pressed his cheek against the coolness of the pane.

Your father wanted to help with the war effort. This is all they would let him do. Build planes. Bell is a good company. They take care of their own.

It’s not fair if you ask me. Not fair at all. I only had two more years of school left. Matt watched silently as they passed a gas station. An attendant waved with his grease rag at the car.

Marietta is just a little city in Georgia. Mills and industrial areas. You’ll make new friends.

Seems dead.

Not going to be like a big city little one. Atlanta is just an hour away.

I know. But still… He watched as they drove by several shops. It had an eerie quietness to it that seemed unsettling. Where are we living? Is it here in this neighborhood? He pointed towards some white picket fencing.

No. They gave your father something else. It’s a large plantation house. It’s been here since the early 1800s. Built by a Scotsman. I think it resembled his family’s house.

Must be large.

Quite. Although I’m not real excited about living in such a place. Too big for my personal taste if you ask me. I think they even provided some local help and a housekeeper. His mother carefully turned right down a dirt road at the end of the town’s square.

Not so interesting, Matt said under his breath.

He sat back in the seat and listened to the rain hit the metal roof of the car. This little town seemed dull and unexciting. Their house in Chicago allowed him access to restaurants and shops. There was nothing here like that. The only place that seemed worth visiting was the soda shop next to the barbers. Maybe the department store. He leaned against the glass and rolled his forehead across the pane to watch the side of the dirt road. The sound of the rain made light rhythms on the roof of the car like the beating of a small drum. He allowed the rhythm to add to his already black melancholy mood. A large sigh escaped him.

It’s not going to be that bad, she said again.

In whose opinion? he replied once more. He traced his initials on the pane of glass as it fogged over. Watching the row of picket fencing beyond the curb disappear, he arched his neck towards a distance structure hidden behind large willow trees.

Is that it? It’s monstrously dark and gloomy.

What the heck? Toby, his little brother in the seat next to him, rose up on one elbow. He rubbed his eyes. Where are we?

The house Dad got from the company.

Matt’s mother slowed her Ford down as she carefully turned left into a tiny opening between several crepe myrtle trees. Seems like the yard is really overgrown. That will need some work.

What’s that on the side of the house?

Looks like stables.

Horses? Toby pressed his nose against the glass trying to see into the barn.

Maybe I could take one and go back to Chicago.

Matt’s mother turned in the front seat of the 1939 Ford and glanced over her shoulder briefly. Matt, please. I’m in no mood to argue with you anymore. We’ve been over this. And the answer is not going to change. You are here. With us. Do you want to disappoint your father by acting this way?

I really don’t care what Dad thinks.

Yes, you do. I can see it in your eyes. She frowned before turning away from him.

Matt stared out the window contemplating the trip. It had been quiet, neither he nor his mother speaking much. He had fought hard for the right to stay in Chicago with his grandmother, but eventually his father told him he had better be in the car when she arrived. Glancing past the gate at their new home, his mind regarded the sinister dwelling with reservation. Its structure seemed familiar, yet mysterious. Was this the one from his dream? He eyes searched the features of the house. Black shuttered windows lined the stone walls, hardly visible behind the branches of ivy. I don’t like it, he stated. There’s something odd about it. It doesn’t look like it’s been lived in for years.

Matt’s right Mom. That house looks spooky. Toby threw his arms over the front seat and hung there. I wanna go back to Chicago.

We’re here and that’s that. There’s no turning back. Matt’s mother bent over the steering wheel. She regarded the house in the distance and shook her head. Your father’s company transferred him here to manage the new airplane plant, my littlest one. There’s nothing we can do about it. With the war going on, everyone needs to adjust, including the both of you. This house is more than we expected, and we should be thankful.

I’d rather stay in a hotel. Matt slid down in his seat and sulked.

Yeah, Toby agreed loudly. I wanna stay in a hotel, too. He mimicked Matt.

Nobody is staying in a hotel, his mother exclaimed impatiently. I think you both should be thankful for having a roof over your heads. Imagine those poor soldiers in Europe, having to sleep outside, being shot at, dying... Her voice grew low.

Matt turned away and focused instead on the large stone house. Was she trying to convince herself or them? He continued to stare at the ivy-covered structure in the distance, pushing her words towards the back of his mind. He knew better than to say anything more about the move, especially when she started her speech about the soldiers at the front in Europe.

The thoughts of war brought back painful memories for the entire family. His uncle had been killed in Pearl Harbor last December and it devastated them. Japanese aircraft orchestrated a surprise attack during the early morning hours. It caught the whole country off guard. Uncle James, caught below on one of the battleships, never made it out from the interior of the ships and perished. It was difficult for his mother to accept his death. His uncle had been like a second father to him and Toby.

Do ya think it’s got ghosts? Toby asked. He jumped backwards from his dangling position and landed next to Matt. It looks like it’s got ghosts. I don’t like it. he whispered. Will we see grandma and grandpa again?

Leaning over the seat, Matt viewed the house again. Why wouldn’t we squirt? Cuz. We moved so far away. And Grandma wants to move somewhere else.

Ignoring Toby for a minute, Matt surveyed the manor. Why did the house place such feelings of uneasiness in him? He furrowed his brow. It didn’t bode well in his soul that he couldn’t finish up the last years of school with his friends. Would he be an outcast at this place? New faces in the classrooms of small towns sometimes went unnoticed.

His attention shifted quickly hearing the sound of squealing. Jerking suddenly, the large gate in front of the car began to separate slowly from its locking mechanisms. His mother maneuvered the car through the weathered metal once it opened completely and headed up the winding drive.

As she drove slowly through the grounds, Matt recalled her telling them the place had been named ‘Stewart Manor.’ An immigrant Scottish farmer, Charles Stewart, built the house back in the late 1700s and created the structure to resemble his family’s home in Kilkenny. He disappeared quite unexpectedly, she murmured softly. No one knew where he went. Your father said the workers at the plant believed he had been murdered, or something like that. Now his ghost roams the property or haunts the house. Myths that come when unexplained things happen around an old home.

Matt shrugged off the memory and shivered slightly. Surveying the property through the rain, he noticed a garden to the left of the house, heavily overgrown and enclosed by a high brick wall. The mess of ivy on the crumbling brick sheltered a thicket beneath enormous willow and oak trees. Much of the property seemed forgotten and in need of work. He could see the old dilapidated house in the background. It appeared to be just a shell of its formal grandness.

We can do lots of exploring? Huh? I bet we could build a fort in one of those trees.

Maybe, Matt answered his little brother automatically. Not really excited about spending any time with his six-year-old brother, he internalized his mind. As the car made its way up the winding drive, he studied several paths running throughout the yard. He noticed that many of them disappeared into the thick darkness of the forest bordering the lawn towards the bricked garden. There was something uncanny about the garden, but he couldn’t put it into words.

Well, here we are boys. Home sweet home. Stopping in front of the house, Matt’s mother shut off the engine and set the brake on the car.

There’s nothing really sweet about this place. It doesn’t feel right to me, ya know. I just get this sense. Like we shouldn’t be here. Matt watched his mother take a tube of lipstick from her purse and brush color onto her lips.

It’s just a house. Is this going to be an ongoing issue everyday about this move?

No. I’m just saying I saw this house in my dream the other night and good things didn’t happen in that dream.

His mother gazed at her reflection in the rearview mirror for a moment before twisting in her seat. She stared at her two sons from behind her horn-rimmed glasses.

What do you mean? Good things didn’t happen in the dream.

There was this dark shadow hovering over me and many voices that I heard in the hall and in the kitchen. All over. All of them were saying different things. Some of them cried out like they were in pain. Others were screaming in anger. There was one that followed me around weeping. It was craziness.

It was just a dream. I think you should give it a chance. It’s a generous gift from your father’s company.

This place really gives me the creeps. Matt heaved another sigh and leaned his head back. I’m sorry Mom. I’m trying not to be disagreeable about this move, but you know I hated leaving Chicago.

C’mon Matt, it’s not going to be that bad. She smiled.

I know, I know. I’ll bounce back, he replied, widening his eyes. Hopefully, he whispered.

Matt’s mother took a deep breath and opened the car door. Stepping out into the drizzling rain, she opened her small umbrella. Matt slumped against the seat and stared out the window. Still feeling spooked about the house, he felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck. This was the house from his dreams. But something was missing from it. He sat silently, trying to search the deep parts of his memory.

Hey, look. Isn’t that the biggest door you could have ever seen? Toby exclaimed. He bounced across his brother and strained to get a better look at the entrance.

Matt pushed Toby off his lap and leaned slightly forward to look in the direction his brother pointed. He noticed a ten-foot arched door recessed deep into the stone entry way. On its surface were carved figures of dragons engaged in a furious battle. Wanting to get a better look at the door, Matt stepped out of the car with Toby not far behind him. They both stood in puddles of rain water on the cobbled drive and waited.

It’s so huge, huh? Toby said quietly. Why do we need all that? You think we would even need all those rooms up there?

Probably not, Matt admitted. Our house by Grandma’s was small compared to this place. His gaze traveled up the height of the building. There’s so many windows.

Three stories tall, the house loomed before them. Its stone exterior, dulled in the rain, was massive and dark. Matt somehow felt sucked into it, unable to retreat. It was the same feeling he had from his dream. A sense of fear welled inside of him as he noticed a strange flock of ravens sitting on the gutters next to the attic windows. Unmoving and quiet, their mirrored black eyes returned his stare.

It looks really scary. ‘Specially them birds, Toby commented.

I wonder why they don’t fly away.

Maybe its cuz they’re waiting for somethin’.

I guess… Matt replied thoughtfully. But birds don’t wait on anything except worms. It’s spooky how their eyes seem to follow everything we’re doing.

Matt’s mother came from around the back of the car where she had been digging in the trunk for her overnight bag. Come on then, let’s see our new home. She slammed their door shut with her hip. The sound echoed loudly against the exterior of the house.

What? Matt dug his hands down into the folds of his back pockets.

Quit stalling and get a move on, his mother demanded from the stone stairs. Get your things out of the trunk and let’s go in before it starts raining again.

We’ll be there in a minute, he replied.

I dunno about that door. Toby cocked his head. It’s makin’ me feel funny, Mom. Like my stomach doing somersaults or somethin’.

This whole thing is weird. Matt watched his mother approach the old oak door. There’s just something unusual about this house. I swear, I saw it in my dream last week. A subtle movement caught Matt’s eye. The carvings of the dragons appeared to shift in the shadows. He leaned forward and studied the door. Did they really move? His brow furrowed. All of it, the birds, the house, the shadows, put him on edge. He glanced at the ravens again, their position unchanging. Mom, maybe you shouldn’t go in, he blurted quickly, his voice reflecting the uneasiness he felt.

His mother’s face twisted into a grimace. What has gotten into you? I know you don't want to be here but really Matt? Is all this necessary?

No…the birds… He pointed upwards. Unable to articulate his feelings, he just shook his head. Never mind.

What’s wrong with the birds? she demanded. She stepped back and held her hand to her forehead, straining to see the ravens on the rooftop.

Nothing, I guess, he stated quietly, suddenly not wanting to explain himself. I mean, maybe we should wait for Dad.

His mother turned and regarded him. She frowned slightly. I’m not waiting out in the car until your father gets here. It’s too muggy. Besides, the housekeeper is expecting us. You had better get a move on, or I’ll be talking to him about your attitude when he gets home.

You haveta knock, Mom, Toby stated, extending his forefinger in the direction of the door's center.

Matt saw a large brass knocker, swinging slightly in the open jaw of a brass dragon’s head. I don’t remember seeing that door knocker there a minute ago. He stated, slightly confused.

You weren’t paying much attention, his little brother replied.

I was paying attention, and it wasn’t there before, squirt. I saw the door when we drove up and parked in front. There wasn’t any type of brass knocker on it.

You’re just saying that ‘cause you’re mad all the time. You like to make up things to make it seem like moving here is terrible, Toby muttered.

Matt shook his head. I’m telling you. It wasn’t there before. And this really looks like that house I saw in my dreams.

You mean the one that made you scream in your sleep.

It wasn’t a scream.

Mom said it was. Woke us all up.

"Maybe a slight yell, but not a scream. I’m not a girl."

Matt watched his mother stand on tiptoe and grasp the brass handle in her hand. Struggling with its weight, she finally managed to push the large ring up. The ornate knocker fell heavily. Its sound echoed strangely. The door opened with a small click and swung inward slowly. Matt’s mother stood patiently until, after several moments, she realized no one was there. Hello? she called out, cupping her hand over the right side of her mouth. She looked back at Matt and Toby. I guess we are to show ourselves in.

Maybe the housekeeper is upstairs or something, Mom.

Hello? She yelled a little louder.

They’re not home. Toby put his fingers into his big brother’s hand.

Shrugging her shoulders slightly, Matt’s mother glanced at her sons again before slipping inside. The two boys stood alone on the drive.

You know what? That’s how all those scary shows on the radio start out. Toby commented softly. A squeaky door opens all by itself. Someone screams. I don’t think I wanna go in.

Matt viewed the ravens still quiet on the roofline. Suddenly wanting away from their stare, he caught Toby by the arm. Squirt, you have an active imagination. It’s just a door. He playfully poked Toby in the stomach. How about I protect you in case the house is hungry for lunch? I’ll tell it you’re just a squirt, not even good for a snack.

Okay. Toby wiped his face on his sleeve.

Let’s go in together, you and me, huh?

Are you gonna be mad at Mom and Dad for a long time?

The question caught him off guard. He didn’t know how to answer. He felt resentment at being forced to live in Georgia. I don’t know, he finally answered truthfully. You didn't have to leave all your friends, your school...you're just a little kid. It's hard for you to understand what I’m going through.

It’s not their fault ya know. It’s Dad’s job. So, you shouldn’t be so mad. You’ll make new friends and I bet the school is swell, too.

Maybe. This place creeps me out. I swear it’s the house from my dream. Matt moved up the stone stairs slowly.

What scared you so bad in the dream?

Something dark was chasing me through a house and I kept hearing voices everywhere. It followed me outside through a maze in a garden. And almost caught up to me. I had to jump through this mirror thing to escape it. There was a girl on the other side who had long dark hair and this big red demon. It reached out for me and I fell backwards. When I woke up, I had four tiny marks on the middle finger of my left hand where it scratched me in the dream. I didn’t remember having those scars there before. How do ya explain that?

Lemme see!

Matt turned his left hand over and held it out in front of his brother. Toby got close to the marks and scrunched his nose. Looks like small cuts.

It’s just strange. This whole move here is strange.

I bet that dream would have been a good radio show.

It was only a dream. Strange that the house in it looked like this one though. Matt pushed on the iron handle of the door. He peered around the frame and hesitated. The light was dim, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. He surveyed the interior of the foyer. See. Nothing scary here, he stated and turned to Toby waiting behind him. No ghosts or anything.

Both boys entered the massive foyer and stood for a second. Matt felt a cool wisp of air rush around him, swirling first at his feet, and then traveling up the length of his body. It was an odd sensation, as if someone’s icy hands were brushing his skin lightly with their fingertips. He heard a small whisper. ‘Come here, Matt.’ The woman’s voice was barely audible but close to his ear. You’ve been missed so very much. Matt grew still and listened again.

Golly, look at how high it is. Toby pointed to the domed ceiling.

The sound of his brother’s voice made him jump. Warn me next time.

Sorry.

It’s all right. I heard someone say my name. It creeped me out a bit.

I didn’t hear anything.

Maybe it was Mom. He walked further into the large foyer. The floor layout consisted of the same kind of drab, flat gray stone as the steps outside. The high walls were accented by mahogany wood paneling and bordered with intricate moldings. A large chandelier hung from the high ceiling. Matt noticed large staircase curved towards the second floor. Watch out Toby, he stated quickly. Don’t scratch the wood with your shoes. Toby jumped up a couple of steps and then back down.

Who’s that?

Where?

That large painting above the fireplace. There’s a man in it in a dress.

Matt walked to the fireplace and looked up. He moved closer to the mantle to get a better view. Toby was right. In the foreground of the canvas was a man dressed in a kilt. He seemed very confident and proud. Painted in the portrait behind him, was a white marble crypt surrounded by flowers and bushes. Seems strange they would paint the picture with him next to a crypt.

Maybe it was an important place or somethin’, Toby stated. He gestured slightly with his hand, moving closer to his brother.

Matt smiled as he watched him put his hands in his back pockets and take a stance similar to his. Toby regarded the picture. He looks sorta mean, doesn’t he?

He was probably a soldier. They all posed like that back then. Matt saw a small glint of white light expand quickly and then contract. Its quick brightness caught his attention. Just a pinpoint of light, but the flash was enough to draw his eyes. He regarded the painting and saw another flicker of movement in the frame. Did the eyes of the Scottish man narrow?

Do ya think that its the Mr. Stewart Mom talked about? Toby asked.

Probably is, Matt replied, unable to look away from the painting. Looks weird. His eyes seem to move when you move.