In its place, warmth and a verdant meadow spread around him, the dewy emerald grass sprinkled with clover and small purple flowers under a sun rising to the east.
Behind him, a shimmer like heat rising over cooked pavement rippled in the air.
Bran lay near him, shaking off what they had just experienced.
“Is this…?” the boy asked.
“Annwn,” Richard answered, standing. “The ancient land of the Tuatha de Dannan.”
Richard had never been to Annwn beyond visiting the Isle of the great tree Achlesydd along with the other Yn Saith. Sky like he had only seen in the Rocky Mountains lorded overhead, clear and clean. Insects buzzed, a persistent hum amidst the twill of birdsong. Despite it only being morning, Richard knew the afternoon and early evening would be hot. The only blight surrounded the meadow like a wall: a forest grown unruly repelled the sunshine, its limbs twisted as if in pain, its depths dark like runny pitch.
Richard felt akin to it, like an ink stain on clean cloth.
“You okay?” he asked Bran.
“I am,” the boy replied, also standing and smacking blades of grass off his knees.
Richard grunted and looked around, getting his bearings. He had never seen the majesty of the massive range in the distance from this vantage; its jagged snow-encrusted peaks burst from the remnants of what looked to be an ancient era of previous mountain building.
“Hope we aren’t going into those mountains,” Bran said.
“They are the Carn Cavall, the newer spires, Snowdon,” Richard said. “Hard country, wild and still free. With any luck we will not be going there.”
“Will the Church men follow us?”
“Not if I know the Kreche,” the knight snickered. “They won’t get near the portal.”
“Finn Arne took a punch from the Kreche that should have killed him,” Bran said. “How is it he is okay?”
“You know I possess Arondight,” Richard said. Bran nodded. “The Captain of the Vatican’s Swiss Guard possesses Prydwen, the Shield of Arthur. It keeps him from harm, no matter the damage done.”
“He is invincible?”
“Yes,” Richard said. “Mostly.”
“But I didn’t see a shield.”
“Trust me, it is there,” Richard huffed. “Can we get going now?”
Not waiting for an answer, Richard set off into the forest parallel to the Carn Cavall, his strides long with purpose. Bran hurried after. The plants and sounds were the same, the feel of the grass beneath his feet familiar, the world appearing no different than their own although summer now replaced fall. But something was off, a feeling of illness that traveled from his boots into the core of his being.
Before he could think more on it, the shadowy forest enveloped them, the airy lightness of the day blocked like a thunderhead in front of the sun. Wrongness surrounded them, dank and stale, the trees sapped of life. No animals or insects stirred. The forest was a dead zone.
“What a dismal place,” Bran observed.
“Dryvyd Wood was designed this way.”
“Designed?”
“Well, designed probably isn’t the right word,” Richard said. “Allowed to grow terrible is closer to the truth. Don’t stray from me and do not touch the trees, at least not until I tell you it is all right. They are none too friendly.”
Bran looked around with wary apprehension. “Where are we going?”
“The capital fortress of Caer Llion in the southeastern part of the island,” Richard said.
“Where are we now?”
“In the middle southern reaches of Annwn, I believe.”
“So you’ve been here before?”
“Never.”
“What’s at Caer Llion? This Philip guy?”
“Philip Plantagenet, despot of the Tuatha de Dannan,” Richard muttered. “Caer Llion is the capital of his empire. It is there we will find him.”
“And we go to kill him?” Bran questioned.
“Perhaps,” Richard said. “He makes Hitler look like a joy. Merle believes our coming to Annwn will remove Philip. If he is truly the man behind the attack on you, I come here to find answers and destroy whatever looking glass he uses to view our world. We will start with him.”
“Why hasn’t anyone tried to stop him before now?”
“By the time the Third Crusade wrapped up in the Middle East, Philip had already conquered most of Annwn,” Richard said, weaving through the trees with care. “He has grown strong over the centuries, somehow living far longer than his natural span. That’s another mystery I intend to unravel. At any rate, his vast army and Caer Llion protect him. Stealth is about the only tactic and weapon we have going for us, unfortunately.”