“Elgin,” Kermode replied. He stepped forward and brought the sword upward in a back-handed swing. Kermode caught the head before it struck the floor. The blood on the blade Kermode wiped on Elgin’s toga. The head went into a water tight sack made from the bladder of a large carp.
Kermode followed the path up into the hills. By morning he was in the deep woods and the ground beneath his feet rose steadily at a steep angle. When Kermode saw a Rune carved into a mahogany tree he stopped to look. It was the symbol for Turodon. Kermode followed the curving vine and leaf cluster pointing toward the mountains.
By mid-day Kermode stood at the tree house. He pried open the shuttered front door with a hammer he found hidden under the bottom deck of the roundhouse. Kermode set a stone bowl on the workbench. From the fish bladder bag he pulled the head out by the hair. He wrapped his robes around his nose and mouth to mask the stench of rotting flesh.
Kermode found a glass jar packed with the crushed green leaves of the nettle plant. He rubbed a few of the coarse leaves between his fingers then felt a slight tingling sensation that soon burned like fire and spread down into his palm. He poured the contents of the jar into a stone mortar then added some coagulated blood. He crushed the mixture into a paste. Kermode removed a kettle of boiling water from the hearth. He poured steaming water into a deep ceramic bowl then stirred in the paste. He set the head into the murky water, covered it, and set it on the fire.
Feeling tired, Kermode stretched out on the raised mat built into the wall. He drifted off to sleep.
When he woke a hum filled his ears. He pulled himself off the mat. As he walked closer to the trapdoor leading the the underground cave the sound increased and he felt the floor boards vibrating under his feet.
Kermode raised the trap door and climbed down into the cave. A green glow lit up the interior. Kermode followed the glow to its source: the dragon amulet with the white stone belly sitting on the ledge. In the green light the rock walls undulated, flexing forward and backward. Veins of metal pulsated under the translucent surface of the rock wall. The amulet glowed and pulsed in time.
Is the amulet feeding the wall or is the wall feeding the amulet, Kermode thought as he reached out. The amulet was hot to the touch and he had to pass it from hand to hand until he wrapped it in his robes. Kermode returned to the house and set the amulet on the table.
Kermode removed the lid of the ceramic pot. The head head srhunk to a fraction of its original size and Kermode was able to fit it inside a large glass jar.
On the journey back to Vardon Kermode felt sick to his stomach and his head throbbed. With each step he grew weaker. Three times he stopped to vomit green stomach bile that burned his mouth and lips.
At last, Kermode stood before King Morvyn. “Are you well?” Morvyn asked when he saw Kermode struggling to stay on his feet.
Kermode didn’t answer, instead, he set a glass jar on the table.
“What madness is this?” Morvyn asked.
“This is Elgin, the first name on the list,” Kermode answered just before his heart stopped and he fell on his face dead.
■ ■ ■ ■
As soon as Durst waded ashore and set foot on the beach he felt something drawing him northward. He let the sensation guide him. He continued on through the days and nights until he reached the scarred mountainside of the ghost town Turodon.
The thing that seemed to beckon him and pull him closer was stronger than ever. An old oak tree high up the face of the mountain caught his eye. Everything else around the tree blurred. The tree remained in sharp focus and Durst could see the individual veins on the leaves from where he stood.
As Durst drew nearer he noticed that a house had been built into the tree and blended so well with the bark it could not be seen from afar.
Durst knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked again. Still no answer. Durst pushed the door open. He stepped in and looked around. Upon seeing the array of glass jars and network of copper tubing it came to Durst that these tools belonged to his father.
Then Durst saw the amulet and any doubt vanished. He lifted the amulet. A slight warmth flowed into the palm of his clenched fist. He hung the chain of the amulet on a peg by the front door.
Origin of Druid (Druid's Path Book 1) Page 16
