Chapter 16:The Shadow of the Stag

Rowan stood on the Thames embankment, her fingers brushing the cold metal of the bronze dagger she'd retrieved from the floating corpse. The blade pulsed faintly under her touch, its surface etched with runes that matched those in her grandmother's journal. Cernunnos' mark, she thought, recalling the antlered god of the Celts from her studies. The dagger's presence confirmed her fears: the ancient enemy they'd thought sealed was stirring.

Behind her, Ethan stood motionless, his gaze fixed on the river. His skin had taken on a permanent sheen of water, and his hair flowed like submerged kelp. When he spoke, his voice carried the hollow echo of rushing currents. "They're coming."

Rowan turned to face him. "Who?"

"The Keepers of the Green," he said, his eyes distant. "They've been watching since the Well of Segais opened. Waiting for their chance to free their master."

Before Rowan could press further, a black SUV screeched to a halt beside them. Three men in black suits emerged, their eyes hidden behind mirrored sunglasses. The tallest, a man with a silver scar across his cheek, stepped forward. "Grampa's been expecting us," he said, his tone flat.

Rowan tensed. "Who are you?"

"Colin MacLeod, MI6. Myth Asset Control Division." He nodded at Ethan. "We've been monitoring anomalies in the Thames since your… friend merged with the river."

Rowan's hand tightened around the dagger. "What do you want?"

MacLeod glanced at Ethan. "We need to contain him. The energy signatures he's emitting are attracting… unwelcome attention."

Ethan's voice rippled like ice cracking. "You can't contain a river."

MacLeod ignored him, focusing on Rowan. "Your grandfather was one of us once. He knows the protocols. Bring him in, and we'll handle the rest."

Rowan hesitated. Grampa had never mentioned working for MI6, but the photo in her grandmother's journal—a younger Grampa flanked by men in similar suits—suddenly made sense. Before she could reply, Ethan stiffened. "They're here."

A chill wind swept across the embankment, carrying the scent of damp earth and decay. Shadows pooled at their feet, twisting into the shape of antlers. The MI6 agents drew guns, but their weapons clattered to the ground as roots erupted from the pavement, wrapping around their ankles.

"Run," Ethan growled.

Rowan grabbed Grampa's journal from her bag and sprinted toward the nearest alley, Ethan close behind. The ground heaved beneath them, and the air filled with the sound of antlers scraping stone. As they ducked into a narrow passage, Rowan risked a glance over her shoulder—just in time to see a figure emerge from the shadows.

It stood over seven feet tall, its body a mass of tangled vines and antlers. Its eyes glowed emerald, and its voice rumbled like an avalanche. "The stag wakes, daughter of Lir. The balance crumbles."

Rowan skidded to a halt. "Cernunnos."

The creature tilted its antlered head. "Not yet. But my children grow impatient." It raised a clawed hand, and the alley walls began to pulse with green light. "Join us, or drown in the flood."

Ethan stepped in front of Rowan, his hands glowing with water. "She'll never join you."

Cernunnos' laughter shook the ground. "She already has."

Before Rowan could react, the dagger in her hand vibrated violently. Images flashed through her mind: a ritual circle, a bleeding heart, a crown of antlers. Her heart, her blood, her head. She stumbled back, gasping.

Ethan caught her. "What is it?"

"The dagger…" Rowan panted. "It's a key. To a ritual. A sacrifice."

Cernunnos' voice grew softer, almost gentle. "The Well of Segais was meant to be a prison. But your dragon's rampage weakened the seals." Its antlers began to glow. "When the stag rises, the world tree falls. And all will drown in the river's memory."

As suddenly as it had appeared, the creature dissolved into mist. The roots retreating into the ground left the MI6 agents unconscious but alive. Rowan turned to Ethan, her voice trembling. "We need to find Grampa. Now."