Perhaps she shouldn’t blame him so much for it. Morlan was the girl’s biological father—the parental bond that held him to her was too strong for him to ignore. Whatever Mika said to try to convince him she was right would fall on deaf ears. He saw only his child, and would defend that girl despite what was hiding right under his nose.
Mika quietly walked out of the kitchen and down the hall, turning in to the sitting room and heading over to the large loom standing at the far wall. She sat down before it, running her fingers over the rough strings of twisted wool as her agitated brain kept up its course. Her stepdaughter was clever, charming everyone she met so they wouldn’t suspect anything about her nature. She had to know she was gifted, though if she did it was to be hoped that she wouldn’t know how to truly use those gifts.
Calla was a monster in disguise, a demoness that sought to destroy the new world foretold in the prophecies of the ancient days.
Mika knew it—she was the only one here who had this knowledge and could take action. But as a result she was left to act on her own. No one else believed a word she said, so entranced were they by the girl. There was no doubt she had always been that way, rather than being taken by some other creature. That power she possessed was strong, growing stronger every day.
The shuttle flew back and forth between Mika’s hands; she hated weaving, but it was the only thing that could help her think at times like this without raising her husband’s suspicions. She heard Mia and Melna run down the hall towards the back door of the house, probably to play in the back yard. She gathered a few strands of yarn in her hand. Her stepdaughter was elsewhere in the house, hiding, probably for her own safety.
Mika scowled deeper. The little enchantress had to know she was on to her by now. Why else would she be so determined to keep to herself most days?
Still, Mika had to smile. Her day was coming, her chance to reveal to the world the secret the little witch kept hidden for so long. Her master had given her the authority to take action herself when the time came: the girl had to be eliminated. She was a threat, a force that could destroy everything they were working for if she was allowed to live much longer. She couldn’t be harnessed, she was too strong to be contained or controlled by any spell Mika knew. If there were some other way they could use the girl, twist her to serve their interests, the master surely would have said something long before now.
The shuttle rattled across again, but this time Mika just let it go. She felt better about everything already. Let the girl try her tricks, if she could; her fate was sealed, and by the time she realized she had been caught it would be too late.
Don’t rush it, Mika told herself. If she moved too fast she would certainly fail. She had to take her time with this, to ensure that the girl’s power wouldn’t influence everyone else to come to her aid, especially her father. Mika would have to be subtle about it, and not just out of choice: her own master preferred that she do everything in her power to turn everyone against the girl first, and then act.
That other window had to be kept open, she knew, but it was turning into the only window. There was some chance—however small—that the girl would escape the net and come after her. But Mika would be ready for that moment, that instant where the girl’s overconfidence in herself would lead to her own demise.
Mika stood up and left the loom, crossing the room to sit on one of the cushioned chairs instead. “Soon, you will see,” she said quietly. “You will all see.”
IV
Calla
The tavern was probably the best place for getting together with friends—there wasn’t much around town for older children like Calla and her friends to do, so they would come here. It was a rather small building, with more than a few scars from the bar fights that broke out on occasion. For some of the more private gatherings, the various owners that came and went had added several private dining rooms in the back; the change in construction was obvious—the dark brick of the old building ended sharply in a line of lighter-toned wood—but the additions kept the patrons coming back.
This wasn’t some formal occasion like some would expect; that was a good thing since Calla decided to wear her usual fitted shirt, a lightweight tunic over it and pants with her low-heel boots, having nothing else in her closet that she felt would be appropriate. If there was one thing Kira hated it was a highly formal gathering, with the exception being special occasions like weddings. She wanted this to be like any other night when they all got together.
Calla wasn’t waiting long. She was led around tables and stools to one of the back rooms personally by the tavern’s current owner, Etan; his self-given duty fulfilled, he quickly slipped back out into the main tavern. Calla didn’t really have a chance to notice his departure, for at that moment her attention was caught by a loud shriek, followed by something slamming into her hard.
“You made it!” screeched a voice in Calla’s ear.
“Calm down, Kira! You do that any louder and you’ll make me go deaf.” It was difficult for Calla to get the words out since her best friend was squeezing the air out of her. “You live only three streets away from me, yet you act like you haven’t seen me in years.” It took another few minutes before she was able to pry Kira off of her.
Kira was the same age as Calla and, like her, had a parent who was in the Royal Guard—her mother served as a lieutenant. She was often called one of the prettiest girls for miles around, and several other men had tried courting her before Marrin came into her life. For the occasion, she had pulled her long, curly gold hair back from her face, and wore a fairly tight-fitted, unadorned sage-green dress that complemented her pale skin. Calla felt only a little silly about choosing her outfit while Kira dressed so formal, but was relieved when she looked around the room to see she wasn’t the only one dressed so casually.
“All right, everyone’s here!” Kira was as giddy as a young child. “Marrin, come on!” She gripped his arm so tightly Calla wondered if he still had feeling in it.
“Attention please!” he called, and the chattering that had been going on around them abruptly stopped. “As you may have guessed, my friends, this isn’t one of our usual gatherings. As you may know by now—and those of you who don’t I beg that you please pay attention—“
A low grown went through the group. Calla just rolled her eyes. Great, she thought, we’re going to be here a while.
“—Kira and I have been together now for several years, and at last we have decided that the time has come. Last week I asked her if she would ever follow me anywhere—across the world, stand against the unknown, make a fortune together—”
Kira jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow; he pretended it hurt. “A long story made short,” she said, “Marrin proposed to me, and I said yes.”
Marrin pretended to be upset. “But I wanted to say that! I was getting there.”
The entire room erupted in cheers. Shouted words of congratulations to the happy couple ended up getting jumbled together in all the noise. From her position near the doorway Calla thought she heard loud cheering from the main tavern, as though everyone else in the building heard the announcement—though it could also have been a coincidence.
“Music!” someone at the back of the room shouted. “We must have music!”
“Yes!” Kira replied. “Etan, we need music!” she called through the door. “We want to have a dance!” No sooner had she spoken that several of the in-house musicians entered—carrying flutes, harps, a few fiddles and even a single bodhran drum—went over to a slightly-raised platform at the far end of the room and began to play a lively dance tune. Some members of the crowd moved off to the sides of the room to continue whatever conversations they were having; most of the group—Kira dragging Marrin over included—were eager to pick up the dance. But Calla was suddenly uneasy. With music and cheering trying to drown each other out she left the room as discreetly as she could so no one would notice. She headed over to the bar in the front tavern, placing a few coins on the count
er while Etan brought over a mug of silver-leaf ale.
It wasn’t that she hated dances—if anything she really liked them. The problem was she didn’t have anyone to dance with.
For a girl her age this came as a surprise. Calla was beautiful, she was smart, she could have had all the young men bowing to her every wish if she really wanted. But Calla wasn’t that kind of person, and she didn’t really like being the center of that kind of attention. Her father’s position also seemed to play into it; if anyone did like her, they found Morlan’s status intimidating along with his size—not only was he tall, but he also had an incredibly muscular frame. It was as though all the young men in the city were afraid to come near the house because they didn’t want an encounter with Morlan.
Group dances like the one she just left always disheartened Calla quite a bit because of this. Kira and her other friends tried to cheer her up by saying the right man would come if she gave it a little time. But that kind of waiting took so long and it just made her feel worse.
“You look sulky.” Kira was suddenly standing behind her; she must have seen her leave after all.
Calla stared down at her drink. “You know those dances tend to have that effect,” she replied dryly.
Kira sat on the stool next to her. “I know better than to do that to you, and I try to keep such occurrences to a minimum where I can. It wasn’t fair to you and I am sorry for it, but—”
“You worry about me too much Kira.” Calla took a gulp of ale, grimacing only a little as the alcohol burned on its way down. “It’s not your fault—this is your engagement party, it’s expected for you to have that kind of thing.”
“I know, but I don’t like how upset you get when it happens; it’s especially bad when they decide to play a waltz.”
“I hate waltzes.” Calla made a face.
“I agree—they’re too slow for my liking.”
Calla had to smile. “That wasn’t the reason I was thinking of, but you do have a point there. I’ll go for a reel any day.” They both laughed.
Kira put a hand on Calla’s arm. “I am sorry about the whole partner-dance-thing in there. But just promise me you won’t spend the entire time out here by yourself. I’ll make sure they play a couple reels at least before the night is over.”
“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about me? Honestly Kira, it’s not like I’m plotting some diabolical escape plan or something. Besides, I’m your moral support—I have to stay until the end, just to make sure you don’t change your mind.”
Kira pretended to be shocked. “Calla, I would never!” They both laughed at the joke for a few minutes until Kira decided she had to go back to the party; she made Calla promise one more time that she would return before leaving her alone at the bar. Feeling it best to wait a little while longer to calm down completely before going back, Calla didn’t have far to look to find something to keep her attention in the meantime.
If there was one other good point about the place, it was its ability to draw in travelers from outside the community. For the most part, these travelers were merchants, people who roamed not only between the Elven cities but around the whole world. Every time they came through, they always brought stories to tell; on those nights they would find a spot in a tavern or some other popular gathering spot, and people would come to hear their strange tales. Oftentimes—like tonight—they had a fairly large audience, which meant more money for them afterwards. The stories they told were complete nonsense, of course, but it was wiser not to say such things in front of them.
Tonight there were three merchants; usually there were only one or two. While it had been quieter when Calla first came, the crowd had since grown substantially to the point that there was hardly any standing room for those just arriving. Calla decided to listen to the stories for a while before going back to join Kira and the others— it couldn’t hurt, she decided, since it was all just a bunch of fairy tales. Only one of the men seemed to be doing the actual story-telling, while the other two sat on either side of him and made a few remarks here and there, as if to keep their companion on track.
“And you should’ve seen the size of the things!” the one was saying to the attentive audience. “They were big fellows—“
“Huge, Giles, huge!” said the man to the right.
“Ah yes, huge creatures, so big and ugly they could scare the living daylights out of the strongest man in the world! And their tusks! Long, sharp as knives—“
“Stronger than steel Giles!” said the man to the left.
“Stronger than any form of tempered steel! And let’s not forget the scales, horns and spikes that make up the beasts’ hides! Every inch of them covered in blades! They’re the most terrifying-looking things to ever walk this earth!”
The crowd responded with laughter—they weren’t buying a word.
“I’m being serious here!” The merchant Giles looked seriously offended. “It gets even better from there—there’s talk of some kind of…oh, I had it a moment ago but can’t remember it now. Bard, you remember?”
“I just lost the thought,” said the man to the left, stroking his long brown beard. “Gar?”
“Army, boys,” said the man to the right, obviously Gar. “Big shadowy army of monsters.”
“Yes that’s it now! There’s this supposed monster army movin’ around somewhere out there in the uncharted world, and no one knows what the heck it is or even where exactly it is. But the real kicker is no one even wants to find out! Imagine!”
Some of Giles’ listeners didn’t seem too impressed by this last bit, and Calla really didn’t blame them. Many were muttering to their neighbors—Calla was certain she heard words like “cracked” and “lunatic” several times—and some were choosing that moment to leave. This tale was another perfect case of pure nonsense.
“Where are you’s goin’?” Giles had a look of almost despair on his face at the sight of his audience dispersing; however the beer sloshing out of the mug in his hand wasn’t helping his cause. “I ain’t finished with what I gots ta say! Y’all gotta be careful, ‘cause there be a creepin’ creature in yers own backyard!”
Calla signaled to Etan for another drink at this point.
“A shadowy beast, this thing be. Big, keeps to the dark—we’s sawed it skitterin’ around the edge o’ the woods! It ain’t human, it means y’all harm!”
Calla turned back to the bar as the merchant kept ranting, his words slurring together from drink and making even less sense than before. Lots of nonsense again, she thought. All drink, little to no facts. Marrin might have liked it, though. She finished her ale in silence and decided to rejoin Kira.
Kira had definitely kept her word about getting the musicians to change music styles, for when Calla came back they were playing a lively reel. She had been standing off to the side watching for hardly a minute when Kira spotted her and dragged her into the dance. There were still a few slower songs afterwards, but Calla kept herself distracted from this fact by spending time talking with some of the others. The hours flew by with a perfect mix of music and conversation.
By the time the whole thing was over, Calla was giddy and breathless from everything. Still she knew she had to get home, so she said her goodnights to Kira and Marrin and everyone else before heading off down the street. The lamps along the side walkways had been lit against the dark. Unworried she took her time walking home, shivering only a little at the chill in the air and thinking she should’ve brought a coat.
She didn’t see the shadow that got up and followed after her.
V
The Watcher
An Elf-like creature kept to the safety of the shadows, keeping as close to the walls of the buildings as he could. There was hardly anyone else out at this time of night, leaving the streets almost completely deserted; only a few people went about now enjoying the night air. Still, he didn’t like this—it made everything risky for him. It was bad enough those merchants had caught a glimpse of him as they entered the c
ity a few nights ago, but thankfully they hadn’t seen enough of him to raise any real alarm. Having to worry about so-called “monster hunters” coming after him was the last thing he needed. He had other things on his mind right now to grab his focus.
Like the girl walking down the road just ahead of him.
She was certainly lovely to look at and moved with such a gracefulness, almost balletic—just watching her was enchanting. But there was something else about her that drew his attention, something about her soul; he sensed it the first time he set eyes on her a few days ago, and had been intrigued ever since. But he couldn’t quite figure out what it was about it that pulled his curiosity so. He stole after her quietly, constantly looking at the ground to watch where he was putting his feet, stepping around fallen leaves and other debris. He couldn’t let her know he was following her—she might panic, might dash off to escape from the shadow that hovered just out of her sight. He couldn’t let her see him there.
He followed her street after street, his interest growing with each step. There was some kind of energy coming off of her, warm and inviting like sunshine in late spring. He had been in the area for about a week now, studying the Forest Children and their way of life from a distance with such fascination; in the entire time he had been here, he hadn’t detected any kind of magic energy from the others. The power radiating from this girl felt ancient, as old as the world itself—a strange feeling from one still so young. Stranger still, it felt…familiar. But how? Where had he felt such energy before? She was an earthly creature, a natural part of this world, nothing like the supernatural creatures he had seen in other parts of the world like tree spirits. So where was this coming from?
The girl was a lovely mystery.
The Last Druid Page 2
