Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Contact
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Epilogue
Contact
The Remembered
Book THREE of The Druid's Guise
A novel
By Michael J Sanford
Copyright © 2017 Michael J Sanford
All rights reserved.
This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
First Edition
Cover art by Michael J Sanford
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For those with pasts that fear them
CHAPTER ONE
IF IT WERE not for the approaching army of bloodthirsty Regents, Wyatt would have taken more joy in the moment as he stood atop Greenwood Hospital with his new family. Even so, with death cresting the distant hills, he couldn't help but feel rejuvenated. Sure, he may have committed a grave error in giving up his power to the Bad Man, causing Earth and the fantastical world of the Realms to, as he had phrased it, collide, but the fifteen-year-old ex-Druid had never felt more complete.
"So, Wyatt," Ms. Abagail said from Wyatt's left as she leaned against the short wall of the rooftop. "You two have a plan?"
Wyatt turned to look at Lucy, his newfound sister, who only moments ago had been just another patient of the psychiatric hospital beneath their feet. She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, squeezed his hand even tighter, and shook her head.
"We'll figure something out," Wyatt said, looking back to the twenty-something woman with a bright pink stripe in her otherwise jet-black hair.
The trio, each drenched to the bone by the recent thunderstorm, turned back to watch the horizon in silence. The night continued to deepen, hiding more and more of the advancing foe until finally the vast army was just a distant hum of activity.
"Are they gone?" Lucy asked.
"No," Wyatt replied. "They're still out there. Still coming."
"Well, we're in this together," Ms. Abagail said with a sigh. "But I have to be honest, I've no clue what we're supposed to do."
"Easy," Wyatt said. "Find the Lord Regent. Kill him. Save Rozen. Find and save Athena and Maia. Defeat the Bad Man. Get my power back. Get our memories back. Save both worlds."
"Right. Easy," Ms. Abagail responded.
"But you broke it," Lucy added. "How are we supposed to do anything when you broke my dream world?"
Wyatt felt his smile fade. He hadn't meant to damage anything. In truth, for the first time since setting foot in the Realms, Wyatt had thought he'd made the right choice. He knew the Bad Man was...well, bad, but giving up his power had seemed both the most sensible and selfless act at the time. After all, the power he so craved had only led to death and destruction. Very little good had come of it, and the more he had chased after that power, the darker everything had become. Even now, Wyatt couldn't help but think it was the right decision. Or at least, the only one he could have made.
"Don't know. But if the Lord Regent is out there," Wyatt said, pointing at the hidden army, "then I'm sure he'll come to us."
"And what? We just wait for whatever that is to attack?" Ms. Abagail asked, gesturing just as Wyatt had. "Whatever is out there is from your world, but I'm fairly certain that the three of us can't beat an entire army. And what about the nurses and patients below us? The hospital is a disaster. People have already died here. And we're just going to wait and let an army come and knock on the door?"
"Well, what do you want me to do?" Wyatt snapped back. "My amulet was what let me travel between worlds. Without it, we can't go as we want. So I say we hunker down as best as we can and wait out the siege."
"The siege?!" Ms. Abagail said, nearly jumping out of her shoes. "This may look like a castle, but it most certainly is not. And again, army out there, nurses and patients in here."
"No, it is a castle," Lucy said calmly.
"No, sweetie, it's not," Ms. Abagail said, leaning around Wyatt to look at Lucy.
Lucy wiped at her eyes and sniffed. "Yes, it is. In my dream world."
"But we can't get there anymore," Wyatt said, feeling his previous euphoria evaporate.
"What if you were right?" Lucy asked quickly. "About me dreaming and bringing more of the Realms here?"
"I don't think that's a very good idea," Ms. Abagail said. "It didn't turn out so well last time. We need to keep the worlds separate. This isn't Earth's fight."
"But I didn't know things were broken then. And I was scared," Lucy said, dropping her gaze to her toes. "And I didn't know it was real."
"You think you can, like, dream us away from the Regents? Maybe plop us down wherever Athena is? Let the Regency chase us?"
Lucy looked up at Wyatt and shook her head. "It's not like that. Even before you broke it. It's...hard to explain. Dreams are funny like that. But there is a castle. I made it like Greenwood. Only better. No one could get us there. It's the safest place in the Realms. I think."
"And you can get us—I mean, get it here?" Wyatt asked. "Or whatever saves Greenwood from more magical..."
"Crap?" Ms. Abagail offered with a smirk.
Wyatt nodded.
"I don't know. Maybe," Lucy said, mimicking the same phrase Julia—her previously dominant personality—liked to say.
Ms. Abagail groaned. "I don't like it."
Wyatt turned to her. "Well, I don't either, but you said we were in this together, and this may be the best option. If Lucy really can change the worlds in her dreams, then don't we have to try? Like you said, there's an army out there and lots of innocent people here. So, either we let the Regents come to us, or we change things up. Somehow."
Ms. Abagail groaned again. "This is not how I imagined my night going."
"Welcome to my world," Wyatt said with a grin.
Lucy elbowed him sharply in the ribs. "Our world," she quipped, smiling just as wickedly.
"Yeah, yeah. Our world," Wyatt conceded.
Ms. Abagail looked at Wyatt and Lucy, shaking her head. "All right, so—"
A single bolt o
f lightning arced through the black sky, reaching from horizon to horizon, followed by thunder so loud that the trio fell to their knees. Though made of solid stone, the citadel-like building trembled like a house of cards. It was over in an instant, but Wyatt was left with a ghostlike image burned across his vision, and his ears rang.
"Maybe we shouldn't be standing on the roof," Ms. Abagail said, still kneeling. "Everyone okay?"
Wyatt wiggled a finger in his ear and nodded.
"Lucy?" Ms. Abagail asked.
Lucy stood, back to Wyatt, and pointed at the stone rooftop at her feet. She shook her head violently.
Wyatt and Ms. Abagail rushed to her side and followed Lucy's finger. A deep crack split the gray stone, beginning between Lucy's bare feet and continuing to the edge of the roof.
Wyatt looked at Ms. Abagail, but she was turned away, now pointing as well, her finger tracing a line through the night sky, away from Greenwood's crumbling roof.
"I don't suppose you know what that is, do you, Wyatt?" Ms. Abagail asked.
Wyatt squinted, trying to discern something within the blackness. Just as he thought he saw a distant glimmer of orange light, a second bolt of lightning struck a corner of Greenwood without warning. The resulting thunder blast threw Wyatt backward and sent him skidding along the smooth stone.
He heard Lucy shriek, but couldn't see where she'd been thrown. Greenwood Hospital shuddered, and a large section of the distant edge fell away, taking with it the secret hideout of Julia's secret club.
Wyatt scrambled away from the edge, fearing it, too, would soon collapse. "Lucy!" he called out as a raindrop struck his nose.
A hand pulled at his elbow, and Wyatt turned to see his sister standing at his side. "I'm here," she yelled.
Movement drew Wyatt's attention to the middle of the rooftop, where he saw Ms. Abagail limping toward them. He breathed a sigh of relief, having thought perhaps she had fallen with the hideout. Then he gasped as he saw what Ms. Abagail had pointed out before.
"What's happening?" Ms. Abagail asked through a grimace as she rejoined the siblings. "Lucy's not dreaming, but it's getting weird again. Is one of you doing this?"
Wyatt didn't respond. He hardly heard the words. He was transfixed by the distant spots of light in the dark sky, growing larger by the moment. He counted thirteen and gasped again.
"I see them now," Wyatt said without shifting his gaze.
"Yeah, and?" Ms. Abagail asked.
"They're bad guys, aren't they?" Lucy said more than asked. She hugged Wyatt's arm, and he could feel her shaking against him. "There are lots of bad guys in the dream world. I wish they would go away, but they don't listen."
"I..." Wyatt said slowly, hoping he was wrong about what he thought he was seeing. Maybe they're just wisps, coming to show us the way, he told himself. But as he continued to watch, the distant orange lights took far more sinister shapes. No longer small dots, it was clear now they were twisting lines of vibrant flame.
"That doesn't look good," Ms. Abagail said.
"Draygans," Wyatt replied.
As the slave warriors of the Regency drew near enough to be fully revealed, the heavens opened up in a deluge. Greenwood shook again despite an absence of cause, and Wyatt fell to a knee. Ms. Abagail pulled him upright nearly as fast as he had fallen.
"We need to get out of here," Wyatt said, eyes still watching as the winged men alighted on the far edge of the roof. Their long braids burned violently despite the torrential downpour and turned their chiseled bodies into a mirage of shifting sinew and muscle.
"The stairs," Ms. Abagail said, already pulling on Wyatt.
As the trio broke for the stairwell, so did the Draygans, driving toward them. The stairs were far closer than the Draygan warriors, but Wyatt knew the enemy could make up the difference in little time. Their only hope was to get through the door and bar it behind them. At best, that would buy them some time to formulate a more favorable plan of survival.
The stairwell was dark, the steps slick with rain, and when Wyatt stumbled on the first step, they all went down. They reached the bottom far faster then had they stayed upright, but they arrived at their destination in a pile of limbs and agony. Lucy was crying loudly, alternating between gasps and howls of pain. Ms. Abagail was cursing, not unlike Athena, but was the first to the metal door.
Beneath the rage of the storm and the screams of his sister, Wyatt could hear the Draygans coming. Though kin to Rozen and victims of the Regency in their own right, Wyatt knew the Draygans would carry out whatever murderous assignment they'd been given. Male Draygans, forced into battle at the ransom of their mates and children, would fight bitterly to protect their families, just as Wyatt would his.
Firelight breached the top of the stairs as Ms. Abagail pulled at the door. She grunted, but the door didn't move. Wyatt quickly found his feet and rushed to help her.
"It won't open," Ms. Abagail said, casting a quick glance up the stairs. "Think it locks from the inside."
A small hand grabbed Wyatt's leg. "Hurry," Lucy shouted.
"On three," Wyatt said, wrapping his hands around the cold steel handle. There was just enough room for both their hands.
"Three!" Ms. Abagail yelled.
They heaved together. The door staunchly refused to yield. Wyatt braced his foot against the door frame. Ms. Abagail crouched as best as she could in the tight confines and prepared to try again.
Lucy shrieked, and Wyatt felt her slam into his back, destroying his balance and sending him to the ground atop her. Something hot and bright flashed through the air where his head had been and sparked off the metal door. The scent of hot iron blossomed amid the rain-soaked air.
Wyatt rolled to cover Lucy, looking up at the Draygan as he did. Luckily, the stairwell was narrow and the Draygans wide. They could only fit single file. Wyatt found little comfort in that fact, however, as he knew the first one would kill them with little effort.
"You don't have to do this," Wyatt yelled. "We're on the same side!"
The Draygan snapped his head back, recalling his fire-braid. It sizzled in the rain and sent curls of steam rising from the Draygan's arm as he wrapped a hand around it, preparing for another attack.
"Me!" Ms. Abagail yelled, leaping to stand in front of Wyatt and Lucy. Standing on the landing while the Draygan occupied a higher step made the young woman appear even smaller. The Draygan loomed as a giant, the light from his braid creating sinister shadows everywhere Wyatt dared look.
The Draygan didn't speak or hesitate. He lashed out, sending his braid for Ms. Abagail. She ducked, falling out of the way with little grace but with enough speed to keep her head. Sparks exploded from the door, momentarily blinding Wyatt, and he hugged Lucy even tighter. Before his eyes could adjust, he felt Ms. Abagail pulling at his arm.
"Go," she hissed, dragging him backwards before his feet could assist in the movement.
The Draygan's fire-braid snapped back over their heads and Ms. Abagail pulled at the door. With a groan, it opened, the top half falling away, edges glowing red-hot and smoking. As Ms. Abagail pulled at Wyatt, he pulled at Lucy, and together they dove though the doorway just as another attack rendered a section of wall into smoldering rubble.
"Keep going," Ms. Abagail yelled.
Knowing the door was thoroughly destroyed, Wyatt didn't argue, and neither did Lucy as they both found their feet and starting running hand in hand into the abandoned upper levels of Greenwood Hospital.
The first room they entered was black as sin, and Wyatt thought for a moment that his eyes were closed, but as he turned over his shoulder and saw the glow of fire coming ever closer, he snapped back to attention. Ms. Abagail cursed, and though she held his arm, Wyatt couldn't see her face. Something fell against the floor and they halted their flight.
"I can't see, and there's crap everywhere in here," Ms. Abagail hissed.
Wyatt didn't need the light to know the truth of the statement. The upper levels of Greenwood hospital were, to put
it bluntly, a disaster. Old furniture was crammed into every room, hallway, and closet. Dust lined every inch of the floor, turning it into a skating rink, and though he'd been through the area enough times, he wouldn't be able to make sense of it in the dark.
Orange light filtered in over Wyatt's shoulder, giving everything a hazy glow. It was enough to see that a large wooden table blocked their path, and the heat on the back of Wyatt's neck was enough for him to know they had little time.
"Under," he said, not wanting to waste time with words as he dove under the table, half guiding, half dragging Ms. Abagail and Lucy along.
They plunged into the dust, each gulping on the stale air, and pawing for further sanctuary. On hands and knees, they resumed their flight as the table above was cut in two and engulfed in flame at the same moment.
More fiery snaps lit up the space, and the stale scent of long-forgotten furniture was replaced by the acridity of woodsmoke and magical flames. Ms. Abagail wiggled beneath a desk and waved for Lucy and Wyatt to follow, but Lucy grabbed Wyatt's arm and pulled sharply in a different direction.
"Come on," Ms. Abagail pleaded.
"No, this way," Lucy said decisively, seeming to have forgotten her fright and tears.
Wyatt grinned. "Follow Lucy," he said, turning to do just that. "This is her world."
Wyatt didn't bother to see if his words hit home, but as he crawled under another table, he could feel Ms. Abagail's presence close behind.
Ahead, Lucy was cutting a ferocious pace through the clutter, skittering along on all fours like she was meant to move in such a manner. It took everything Wyatt had to keep sight of her as she ducked beneath tables and chairs, slid beneath sheets, and slithered over boxes.
Behind them, the Draygans were cutting a far blunter and more direct path to their goal. Wyatt could hear some of the warriors using their braids to slice through furniture, while others hurled smaller pieces aside. Something heavy landed a hairbreadth from his shoulder, decimating a cardboard box and sending up a cloud of packing peanuts.
The Remembered Page 1
