The Last Druid

by Colleen Montague

  “I wish I had your confidence,” she said sleepily.

  Hiran didn’t know how to answer her.

  XXXIII

  Lina

  Lina dashed through the tall grass of the plain, every sense focused on the scent she followed. She had first picked it up almost three days ago and had followed it nonstop since. She didn’t like it: it was dark, cold, evil, and putrid—it stank badly against the warmth of this landscape. It did not belong here. She was determined to find out what it was and where it came from.

  But it had been at least a month since she last saw Calla, and even longer since the one called Hiran had left them. She found out from the local birds that Calla had ended up in the city, so she didn’t dare try to return to her. But then a few days ago a she heard that things had suddenly changed in Elenan, that the old Council was no more. So perhaps Calla was doing all right after all.

  Maybe I should have gone back first to check up on her, Lina said to herself. Just as quickly as she said it she discarded the idea. If things were fine with her two friends then not going back to them right away was fine for now. Besides, they could take care of themselves—Hiran was unbelievably strong, and Calla was gifted with some kind of strong magic. She was confident that all would be well with them.

  And if she managed to find out what was amiss out here, then the information of her find would make the delay worth it.

  She stopped and raised her nose up, sniffing at the air. The scent was even stronger now than ever. She must be getting close to its source by now. She continued following the trail, practically leaping through the grass. Perhaps she might be able to get a chance to see it from the top of the next hill before the sun went down completely.

  A chorus of roars erupted from somewhere nearby. Lina skidded to a halt, dropping as low to the ground as she could. The noise kept going, but was soon joined by the shouts of men and blasts of horns. The stink she had been following was heavy in the air now. With her belly dragging against the earth she inched forward as slowly as she could, raising her head only slightly every so often to see where she was going through the grass. She could feel the earth shaking beneath her paws. Whatever it was that lay ahead, it was big. As she came over the next rise she cautiously lifted her head a little higher to look.

  She whined in fear at what she saw.

  It was an army—a massive army, at least a few hundred if not thousand soldiers. From where she was she could see it was mostly made up of the hideous Brilken monsters, some of them snapping their jaws viciously at each other. There were some humans among them, though they seemed to keep to their own groups; only a couple of them, apparently commanders, moved among the Brilken attempting to get them back under control. Dark banners were scattered throughout the host, and in the light of the sunset Lina thought she saw dark tents on far side.

  A group of five Brilken and two humans were standing dangerously close to her, but they didn’t seem to notice she was there. The wind was in her favor as well, blowing towards her instead of wafting her scent in their direction. Still she stayed frozen, watching the group with wide eyes as they slowly started to move away from her, shouting at each other. She didn’t budge until they were several yards away and had their backs to her; as soon as she felt it was safe, she started crawling backwards down the hill. Once she reached its base she gave in to her screaming instincts: she turned tails and ran as hard as she could across the plain, heading back for Elenan.

  The army of the Dead Lands was upon them.

  XXXIV

  Calla

  Calla woke with a start and sat straight up, her every sense alert while her heart knocked against her ribcage. The room was dark save for a single candle flickering on the table next to her. Hiran wasn’t there anymore—he must have left shortly after she had fallen asleep. He’d laced her shirt back up and drew one of the blankets up over her. She looked out the window. The sky was completely dark, only a couple of shades away from black; it was quite late. An eerie quiet had fallen over everything, not a sound to be heard from outside the palace or in the hall just beyond her door.

  Something was wrong. Her anxiety was back, stronger than it had ever been before. Something was near that should not have been there in the first place. Calla could almost smell fear on the wind, but heard no voices of warning carried on it. That voice in the back of her mind had returned as well, telling her to run.

  “But from what?” she asked aloud to the shadows. She tossed the blankets aside as she jumped out of bed, snatching up the candlestick as she went. Slowly she walked to the door, pulling it open with an unnaturally loud screech of the hinges. She peered out into the gloom. The corridor was deserted, the only faint sound coming from the flickering torches along the walls. She took a cautious step out from the room, glancing to either side towards the ends of the corridor; she couldn’t see the faint shadows of the guards who were supposed to be standing watch at each intersection.

  A chill of fear swept through her.

  A faint crash echoed off the walls, coming from somewhere to her left. Candle in hand, she set off quietly in that direction. Maybe it was nothing, someone dropping something, maybe a servant doing late-night errands. But just about everyone should’ve been in bed by now. That flight instinct was starting to grow, but she kept its nagging in check. If it wasn’t nothing, panicking wouldn’t help her.

  When she reached the end of the corridor she stopped. The guards weren’t there.

  Calla bit her lip; she didn’t like this. They were supposed to be here. They were forbidden to leave their posts except to change with the next watch, unless there was some kind of threat elsewhere in the palace. Something was very wrong here—she could feel it. “I hate this feeling,” she muttered.

  Another noise sounded through the halls, catching her attention. She stiffened, listening as it grew louder, echoes bouncing off the walls. She could hear men shouting to each other along with some kind of roaring. Metal was ringing on metal even louder than the yelling. Calla’s eyes widened. It was the sound of battle. Someone—or something—had broken into the palace.

  She dropped the candle and dashed down the hall to the nearest stairwell. The volume of the fight grew louder as she went; she was getting closer to it. Carefully she tiptoed down the stairs—and barely had a chance to dodge the sword that came flying towards her head.

  She had walked right into the middle of the battle.

  She hadn’t been mistaken when she thought she heard roaring; she recognized it as the deep voices sounded louder than ever, announcing the next assault of the Brilken. Somehow three of the massive reptiles had managed to break in. At least a couple dozen guardsmen had gone to meet them, and already they were suffering heavy losses: several men lay dead on the floor and many others injured—blood was spattered all across the floor and on the walls. The men still standing were taking a defensive stance, lining up to form a human barrier against the Brilken along the far side of the corridor from where Calla stood. The Brilken were unharmed, their thick hides too tough for the guardsmen’s swords to cut through. Blood dripped off their claws and teeth from tearing men apart, their golden eyes blazing with rage. Calla was about to step back when one of the monsters happened to turn and saw her. While the other two rushed at the men it charged towards her, snapping its massive jaws as it came.

  Calla prepared to meet it, her body tensing as she took a defensive stance. She raised one hand towards the nearest torch, palm out. The flame shot from it to her hand to form a warm, flickering yellow sphere around her fingers. The beast was now only a few yards away from her and closing fast. Her options limited, Calla sent the fireball hurtling towards the massive reptile with a flick of her wrist; it flew down the creature’s throat as it opened its mouth to roar. Still sensing their energy from inside the creature, she willed the flames to expand.

  The Brilken soldier exploded, fire pouring out from long splits in its torso while dark fluid dripped down its body to the floor. The air was filled wit
h the stink of its burning flesh.

  One of the remaining two Brilken saw its comrade fall. It swatted the closest man aside as it now ran at her, practically foaming at its mouth. Calla merely manipulated a section of the floor so that it rose up as a sharp spike pointed in the creature’s direction; unable to stop or alter its path in time, the Brilken ran itself onto the spike and was impaled through its torso. The last of the Brilken was surrounded by the Guardsmen, who started pounding on it with their weapons and even their own fists. Using everything they had they finally brought the beast down, turning their weapons to the more vulnerable areas on its body: eyes, mouth, and any patches of skin showing through the scales.

  While they worked Calla suddenly felt the hairs along the back of her neck rise. Without thinking she dove off to one side, rolling along the floor until she hit the wall. She was just in time to avoid the knife slicing through the air where she had been. She got back to her feet and saw who was holding the blade.

  “You!” she hissed, half in fury and half in fear.

  The woman smiled. “Hello again, witch.” Mika took a step towards her.

  Calla was quick to react. She sprang to one side as Mika rushed at her, leaving the woman to crash into the wall. Unfazed by the fact she missed the woman quickly recovered and changed directions to keep after her. Finding her stepmother still hot on her heels Calla realized she would have to fight, but there was little room in the corridors for her to maneuver; if she tried using Earthmagic down here Mika’s relentless assault would be her undoing. She needed to be somewhere with a bit more room. Pushing herself she sped down the corridor and took the next left, following it until she came to a door on the right-hand side that opened onto a wide balcony. As soon as she passed through the door she dropped to ground, curling up right in the middle of it.

  Too late Mika realized what Calla intended; she tripped over the girl’s body before she could try to slow down. She tumbled along the stone surface, stopping just short of hitting the rail. Giving a loud, angry hiss she slowly drew herself back up, the long knife still gripped tightly in her hand. Calla was already up, trying to keep herself from caving as she met her stepmother’s icy gaze.

  Mika smirked at her. “You thought you had seen the last of me, didn’t you?”

  Calla was undaunted by her taunt. “The last I heard was that you’d been locked up.”

  “Hah—as if such walls could keep me in forever; that so-called prison was only a minor obstacle.” Mika held the knife a little higher, a dark light in her eye. “Your blood is mine, girl. There are no fools under your charm to save you now.”

  Mika dove, slashing the knife up towards Calla’s head. Calla ducked down, letting the would-be blow sail past harmlessly. As she popped back up Mika brought the arm around, angling the blade so it would slice across the girl’s face. Calla stopped it at Mika’s wrist with her forearm, gripping a spot by the woman’s elbow with her hand; Mika brought up her other hand, balled into a fist, which Calla caught with her other hand. They pushed against each other, trying to bring each other down to the ground. Calla could feel her stepmother’s strength suddenly start growing, threatening to topple her over. Taking a chance she shifted her weight onto one foot while driving the other into Mika’s gut, sending her reeling back several steps. The woman recovered quickly, regaining her balance to rush at her again.

  Calla wasn’t quite fast enough to avoid the next attack. Mika came up so quickly Calla barely the blade coming towards her. As she hopped back to avoid it the very tip bit into her cheek, cutting the skin along her cheekbone. She staggered back a few steps, her fingertips pressed against the fresh would; she could feel the hot blood trickling down her face.

  Mika flicked her hand to hold the knife upright again. “It suits you,” she said in a mocking tone. “It goes well with the last one.”

  Calla’s hand strayed to her left arm, her fingers tracing the long scar from their last encounter. She could almost feel it tingling from the memory of those blows. She shook her head sharply to come back to the present; thinking on memories would be disastrous right now.

  Mika lunged again. Calla was faster to notice it this time, diving to one side. She rolled across the floor, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. She pulled herself up on one knee.

  “I should have killed you years ago when I had the chance,” Mika hissed. “Then you never would have grown to be such trouble.”

  Calla allowed herself a small smirk. “Your loss, my gain. You and your “master” failed to kill me once, and you’ll fail again.”

  “Kill you? My Lord does not wish only to see you die—He wants you completely erased from existence. Little Half-Powers like you have no place in the new era, and He does not want you stalling the future anymore.”

  This last statement caught Calla by surprise. “What did you just—”

  Mika took advantage of Calla’s distraction, smashing her fist into the girl’s chin. Calla staggered backwards for a moment, and was knocked over from another hit to her stomach. Trying to regain her breath, Calla focused everything on the stone tiles around her, feeling the energy within them, attempting to bring several spires out of them. But it was taking too long. Calla had only created a few that were less than an inch long when Mika ran over them without hesitation or pain, bringing the knife down towards Calla’s arm. She danced out of the way again, though not before having a new line of blood run down her skin. She would have to abandon the idea of using Earthmagic—at her level it took too long to conjure anything; she would be dead long before completing one spell. She would have to rely on the skills her father had taught her to get her through this one.

  The fight waged on. Unevenly matched though they were Calla was able to hold her own. The balance kept shifting as they tried to bring each other down, first favoring one and then the other, back and forth repeatedly. They were oblivious to anything going on around them as they fought. But the longer it went the more trouble Calla found herself having; her stamina was starting to wear out.

  And then she made her mistake: she fell for a feint. Mika looked like she was striking at Calla’s right shoulder and the girl had moved to block it on that side. At the last second Mika abruptly pulled back and changed direction, and before Calla could recover the knife had been plunged deep into her left side, just above her hip. Calla fell to the ground as the wound started burning with pain, and she fell against the wall behind her. She stared up as Mika loomed over her, the wicked sneer on her face once more.

  “A pathetic hero,” Mika said. “There’s nothing special there—the fools protecting you just fail to see that.” She flipped the knife in her hand and brought the blade down towards the girl.

  Calla knew it was the end and braced herself to meet it, then abruptly stopped. Something was happening in the space between them. As Calla stared at the blade coming towards her the air around it seemed to shimmer. She could almost see it dividing as the sharp blade came closer, breaking apart almost a few inches ahead of it. Like breaking glass it splintered and broke apart, forming a path that pointed straight at her heart. It would take a few more seconds before she would die, seconds she could use better than this.

  Calla wasn’t planning on dying—not today. With great effort she pushed herself up and vaulted off to the side, just missing Mika’s weapon again. Mika, not realizing anything had happened, drove it hard into the stone wall where Calla had been; with a loud ringing the very tip of the blade snapped off. Hissing so much through her teeth that spit was flying, she dropped the knife and brought up her other fist. Calla could sense the force building up behind that punch; the woman intended to use as much physical strength as her body would allow. Calla knew she could block that blow. She charged forward to meet her, catching the fist with her right hand. Tightening her grip on it, she spun around to her left completely, bringing up her left elbow and slamming it into Mika’s head as hard as she could.

  Mika screamed in fury, massaging the side of her
head. Her eyes held a combination of rage and bewilderment. Without thinking Calla held her hands up in front of her, palms facing each other. She started gathering the air between them, feeling the forming ball grow denser with each passing second until she could barely hold onto the built-up mass of energy. With a sharp motion she turned her palms away from her, sending the ball of air hurtling towards Mika; it collided into her with such force she flew clear to the other side of the balcony.

  Stunned by the fact she had done such a thing, Calla just stood there. “How…?”

  She thought over what just happened, and she could almost hear Kosh’s words from earlier that day. “The secret to mastering Earthmagic is reaching your Moment, that one point in time when you can see the energy emanating from the natural life and elements around you as well as feel it, an extension of your other senses. It comes at a different stage for each of us, even sometimes when we stare Doom in the face…you feel the different energies in the world around you, and so be able to will it into whatever form you desire.”

  Had Calla just reached her Moment?

  Mika’s screech snapped her train of thought. The woman charged at her again, but now Calla was faster. She touched the energy of the stone beneath her, forming it so it completely encased Mika’s feet, stopping her short in a matter of seconds. The woman’s momentum still carried her forward, and with her feet trapped she waved her arms violently through the air to keep her balance. Panicking, she struggled to free herself but was no match for solid rock.

  “My oath!” she cried. She looked up at Calla, and for the first time there was despair in her eyes. She knew she had failed.

  Calla held no sympathy for her. “You chose your fate long ago,” she said coldly.

  Tugging at Mika’s energy and that in the rock around them, Calla forced the two to combine, pushing them together hard until they were formed into one. A gray tone started creeping up Mika’s legs.