Caledonia Fae 04- Druid Lords

by India Drummond

  Huck led the group along the same trail he’d taken before, hoping he’d remember all the turns. Soon enough, the trail turned into a path, then the path became a street, which led towards a fae city. Unlike last time, however, the city was festooned with ornaments. Hundreds of faeries milled about on the smooth roadways. The night glistened with the magic of lights and subtle music like tinkling wind chimes played around the entire town.

  “What’s going on?” Aaron asked.

  Rory’s expression darkened. “The wedding,” he said. His words reminded them all that the night of the wedding meant the night of Demi’s execution.

  Flùranach nodded as she looked around. “The queen’s taking of a mate will be celebrated for several nights before and after the ceremony.”

  “We don’t have much time,” Huck said. He picked up his pace and they continued west and north towards the portal. Would Eilidh and Munro really go through with the wedding if Demi was to be killed immediately afterwards? It seemed cold, but then, Munro didn’t really know Demi. If an entire population was celebrating him and Eilidh getting married, why would a little thing like an execution in a different country affect their plans? The idea that life would go on even if they failed weighed on Huck.

  The group ran at a punishing pace, and Aaron and Rory’s use of the water flows through the night to speed the ferry meant no one had slept in more than twenty-four hours. Huck’s feet missed a step along the path at one point, and they all came to a halt as he recovered from a stumble.

  “We have to rest,” Flùranach said. “You’re too tired to go on. It’s another hour at least to the portal.” She still seemed to have difficulty focusing on Huck and Aaron both, instead staying close to Rory and following his lead as they travelled.

  “I can make it,” Huck said.

  “You’re exhausted.”

  His emotions ran riot. They’d failed. Essentially, they’d found nothing but further motive for either Demi or Lisle, but none of her or Rory’s questions had borne fruit. In fact, everything they’d learned, and what they hadn’t, told him nothing new. Demi or Lisle pretty much had to be the killer. The one neighbour who’d been alerted by the noise didn’t have anything helpful to add. He’d seen the Watchers go into the house that night, but had been so confused at the speed with which they moved that he’d convinced himself he’d been mistaken. Nothing he told them would help prove someone else might have killed Ulrich.

  Their only hope lay in Oszlár arranging a proper trial. At least that would buy time. “I’ll rest when Demi’s safe at the Druid Hall,” Huck said.

  Her green eyes shone with compassion. “Here,” she said. “At least let me give you some relief from your weariness.” She tentatively reached out, but still struggled. “If you could release the ward stones, it would help. I can’t seem to touch you.”

  He took the handful of stones out of his pocket and gave them to Aaron. She even had difficulty looking Huck in the eye until he moved several feet away.

  Finally, she touched his temple. A warm, soothing energy ran into his mind. The fatigue melted. When he blinked a few times, he realised he’d almost fallen asleep standing up. Only seconds had passed, but he felt as though he’d slept for a couple of hours. “Thank you,” he said. He took her hand and kissed her cheek.

  Flùr blushed in response, touching her face where his lips had met her skin. “You’re very welcome,” she said, looking pleased. “Anyone else?” she asked with a glance towards Rory. She didn’t face Aaron.

  “I’m good,” Aaron said gruffly, but Rory nodded.

  “Please,” he said. “I’m dead on my feet.”

  She repeated the procedure with Rory, and the colour returned to the druid’s face. Rory turned to Aaron. “You’re sure?” he asked.

  “Aye,” Aaron replied. After an awkward moment, he said, “But thanks.”

  Within a few minutes they were back on the road, speeding as fast as their legs would carry them to the Halls of Mist.

  In just over an hour, they’d crossed the low, rolling hills in eastern Caledonia and passed through the portal. They stood in the centre of the entry courtyard to the Halls of Mist, weary from their long journey. Aaron asked, “What now?”

  Huck turned his gaze towards the Druid Hall. Somewhere in there, Lisle was waiting. The diary sat in his pocket like a lead weight. He’d have to confront her with what he’d learned. He had no right, but what choice did he have? “I’ve got to talk to Lisle,” he said. Rory gave him a puzzled frown, but Aaron nodded. It comforted Huck that someone understood. He’d explain everything to them all if necessary. For now, he needed to tackle the problem alone, for Demi’s sake.

  Rory said, “We didn’t learn much. The others might still be at the Source Stone, but I’m not up to studying or crafting. We should get some rest.”

  “I think I’ll head to the library,” Aaron said. “I was thinking about that portal we made. I have a couple of ideas I want to bounce off the others.” He turned to Huck. “Take these, would you?” Aaron asked, handing Huck the ward stones. “I don’t think I should carry these into a room full of faeries. They probably wouldn’t care for their effects too much.”

  “Sure,” Huck said and took the pebbles. “I might catch up with you after I’m done with Lisle.” Huck felt the pull of the Source Stone. “I’ve never seen it.” He had been afraid of the powerful artefact changing him. Now he realised he’d already begun the process, even if the transformation didn’t yet affect his physical appearance.

  “You should rest first,” Rory cautioned him. “The Stone will take as much from you as it gives. I was knocked flat for a full day after my first time.”

  “Same here,” Aaron said.

  Huck nodded, disappointed. He didn’t have a day to lose, but he had difficulty turning away. Still, his loyalty to Demi meant he needed to do what he could for her. How he’d become her advocate, he had no idea, but he’d assumed the role willingly.

  “And you,” Rory said to Flùranach. “You need to get some sleep too.”

  “I rested on the boat,” she replied. She gazed at Rory with complete adoration. She’d not been able to back off her feelings for the Scottish druid any more than Huck had backed off with Demi. In both situations, circumstances changed everything. Now, Rory looked at her the same way she did him. Whatever happened in Amsterdam made all the difference.

  “Stubborn woman,” Rory said quietly. “You swore you’d serve the Druid Hall. Doesn’t that mean you’re supposed to do what I command?”

  Her voice sounded like a purr. “I am forever your servant, my lord druid. If you command me to bed, I would not refuse.”

  Huck suddenly felt like an interloper in a distinctly intimate conversation. Aaron backed away with a shake of his head and turned to walk towards the library.

  Now nothing stood between Huck and the difficult situation in his path. He left Rory and Flùranach standing in a public courtyard, staring into each other’s eyes.

  ∞

  Aaron descended the stairs and strode past the keepers and other faeries without giving them a second thought. His mind focused on the energy of the Source Stone.

  Their success with the newly created gate to Germany only excited him more. Sure, the rough passage had hurt like hell. For a horrible moment, he’d thought Huck had died in transit. Even with those setbacks, the thrill of the accomplishment helped him overcome his weariness.

  A part of him wished he’d let Flùranach take the edge off his exhaustion after such a gruelling day and a half. He’d watched Rory and Flùranach, and all of a sudden, Rory was smitten with her. A rotten part of Aaron suspected she’d tricked him into falling in love. Although Rory was happier and this did mean she wouldn’t be setting her eyes on anyone else, Aaron couldn’t shake his distrust.

  As he approached the room that housed the stone, Douglas’ and Munro’s voices drifted to Aaron’s ears.

  “I’m not joking,” Munro said. “I’ll clear the lot of you out if you kee
p interrupting our work.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” an unfamiliar voice replied.

  “That’s it,” Douglas, the youngest druid remarked with some frustration in his tone. “I can’t work like this.”

  Aaron entered and saw the two druids sitting near the Stone’s resting place. The artefact lay dormant. “What’s up?” he asked.

  Munro’s face lit up. “You’re back,” he said, his relief visible. “The portal took you to the right area?”

  “Aye,” Aaron said. “Bloody well almost killed us, but the gate worked.”

  “Really?” Douglas asked. “Nice.”

  Aaron snorted a laugh. “Nice that it worked, I assume is what you meant, not nice that we nearly kicked it.”

  “Obviously.” Douglas rolled his eyes.

  Three keepers stood at the edges of the room, looking frustrated and perturbed. Oszlár, the only keeper Aaron knew much at all, wasn’t there. “What’s with them?” Aaron asked.

  “Oh, they won’t leave us alone with the Stone. We told them we’d let them stay if they would keep quiet and let us work.”

  “Let us stay,” one of the younger keepers grumbled.

  Another of the elder faeries was sharper and replied to what Aaron told them. “You created your own portal? To the human realm? And it functioned?”

  “I’m dead on my feet,” Aaron said. He couldn’t say why he didn’t want to share his information with the keepers. He harboured a perverse desire to thwart them. The old geezers hadn’t been exactly forthcoming either. The druids’ knowledge was power, and he wasn’t going to give it away for nothing. “I’m heading back to the Hall for a kip, but I wanted to tell you we survived and all.”

  “I’m glad you did,” Munro said. “We need a break anyway. We worked most of the day. This is our third session since you left, but we’re not making much progress. I can read a lot of the runes, but I can’t quite figure out their relationship with the stone. Honestly, it doesn’t seem like any of this should work.”

  “I have some ideas about that,” Aaron said, keeping his voice low, even though the sharp-eared faeries would hear him easily. He extended a hand to Munro and helped him up. “You know the weirdest part was when we came through the gate, it was closed. We went to the right place, but, Christ, what a rough ride.”

  “Cool,” Douglas said, scrambling to his feet to join the other two.

  The druids left the library, much to the dismay of the keepers. As much as the faeries resented the druids’ intrusion with the Stone, they appeared keen to hear about the new portals.

  On the walk to the Druid Hall, Aaron related what happened in Amsterdam, starting with the nasty pull through the portal. Then, he continued to what they discovered at Demi’s house, which was basically nothing. He left out the strange book Huck found. Although Aaron clearly saw fae runes, the American wanted to keep it mum for now. Aaron thought Huck deserved the chance to work out whatever was on his mind before telling the others. If they expected Huck to start acting more like a member of the Hall, Aaron figured they’d need to extend a little more trust.

  Chapter 18

  Loamy earth covered Lisle’s hands. Never in her life had she handled soil so dark and rich. When she’d wandered out the previous night, she’d found six young female faeries hard at work in the vegetable garden beyond this castle-like Hall of Druids. Calling her new residence a hall seemed silly. It was more a village. But who was she to criticise?

  Since arriving in this strange place, her hands ached less than usual, and her hips didn’t twinge with their typical sharp pains. She felt stronger, younger even. With little to do, she’d taken to wandering. At first, she wouldn’t dare to snoop, but the Druid Hall was strangely deserted. Oh, there were servants and stewards, but they left her alone and didn’t speak unless spoken to. No one told her not to go anywhere. Though they were quiet, the faeries throughout the grounds always greeted her with smiles, as though she was perfectly right to do what she pleased.

  When she asked questions about the vegetables the faeries were planting, they’d answered readily, although they did insist on calling her my lady druid or worse—elder. Next thing she knew, she’d gotten on her knees beside them, listening as they taught her how to harvest the squash-like vegetables attached to the thick, creeping vines.

  Lisle couldn’t recall the last time she’d done any gardening. It must have been the spring before Jago was born. She laid one of the large vegetables in the faeries’ basket and moved on to the next plant. The honest work satisfied her. She wasn’t prone to wistfulness or regret. Life gave what it gave. Mistakes couldn’t be undone, only paid for. Hard labour ordered her mind, and the sensation of earth in her hands made her feel whole and connected.

  “Lisle?” Huck’s voice intruded into her solace, but she had to face him.

  She closed her eyes, wanting to delay, but nothing would stop what was coming. Standing with minimal discomfort, a relief in her old age, she turned towards the young man. Huck’s eyes told her everything. “You found my diary,” she said.

  His gaze flicked to the faeries working in the gardens, then back to Lisle. He gave a sharp nod, his hand going to his pocket. He must have the book with him.

  “We need to talk. Alone,” he said.

  The faeries gathered their produce and quickly dispersed, taking the baskets towards the castle’s storehouse. Huck blinked, surprised, then gestured to a bench. “Would you rather sit out here or go inside?”

  Lisle looked down at her grimy hands and rubbed some of the earth away. She would prefer not talk to him at all. “Here is fine,” she said.

  “I’ve never been back here before,” he told her.

  She didn’t answer. He was stalling.

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the rune-covered diary. He traced a finger over a few of the runes.

  Shame burned through her. “You read everything?”

  He nodded, and they sat together on the curved wooden bench. “As much as I could. I’m not the most gifted reader, but I understood enough.” Reluctantly, he handed the journal to her. “I’m surprised you didn’t keep it with you.”

  “I meant to retrieve it before we left,” she said. “Everything happened so fast. I didn’t want my granddaughter to see it.”

  “Demi doesn’t know about you and Ulrich?”

  “Of course not,” Lisle said. “My sins happened a lifetime ago. I intended to take my secrets to my grave. When she told me about Jago, how could I tell her? She needed my help. If she knew the truth, she would have run from me. Only I had the experience to teach her how to evade Ulrich.” Her voice caught. She hated saying his name.

  “Was Ulrich your son’s father?” He kept his eyes down as he asked. His tone was so gentle, devoid of the scorn Lisle felt for herself.

  “Does it matter?” she shot back.

  “Not to me.”

  She sighed, setting the book on the bench between them. Part of her wanted to throw the diary away, but part of her wanted to relive the moments she’d recorded within. “He was gifted, a beautiful baby. He grew to be taller than William, but who is to say my husband would not have given me a tall, handsome child? William was a good man.” Over the years, she’d watched her boy for any indication he might be different, but any signs she thought she saw, she dismissed. More than anything she ever desired in her life, she wanted him to be William’s.

  “And you never saw Ulrich again until the night of his death?”

  She shook her head. “He disappeared. I thought he’d died or perhaps something prevented him from returning to our world. One day he was there, then he simply vanished from my life.”

  “Maybe he couldn’t find you,” Huck said.

  Lisle looked up at him suddenly. “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe your son hid you from him much the way Jago protected Demi.”

  Ulrich’s absence had been a relief in one way, but devastating in another. She’d vowed never to speak of her shame. Despite the
fact that she’d loved him to the point of obsession, he had always had a streak of nastiness. The anger that had ripped through her when she learned how he turned his cruelty to Demi still burned.

  Lisle glanced at Huck. Something in his expression made her feel naked, as though he saw into her thoughts. She hugged herself, her dirty hands smudging her blouse with dark earth.

  “Did you kill him?” Huck asked.

  Lisle raised her chin defiantly. “I’m glad he’s dead. He’ll never hurt my family again.”

  Huck nodded. “When I read that,” he said, nodding to the diary, “I reacted the same way. Hard to imagine anyone regrets his death.” He paused. “You didn’t kill him though, did you?”

  Lisle sighed. “If I knew then what I know now, perhaps I’d have murdered him the day I met him.” When Huck tilted his head, the unanswered question still lingering in his eyes, Lisle gave up. “No. I didn’t kill him.”

  Huck turned and stared straight ahead, gaze fixed on some point in the distant sky. “I’m not sure what to do,” he said. “Keeper Oszlár is going to negotiate for a trial. I don’t even know if he’s returned yet.”

  “What good would a trial do?” Lisle asked.

  “Buy us time. Thing is, Konstanze is holding Demi as a political prisoner as much as anything else. From what I gather, it’s unheard of for a faerie queen to execute a human. To kill a druid? This is a power play.”

  “My granddaughter confessed to killing the queen’s brother,” Lisle said. Even if the motivation behind Demi’s arrest was political, she didn’t understand how this queen could let her go.

  “There are many truths Konstanze would not want revealed in a trial, such as Ulrich’s fondness for human women, the nature of his azuri magic, his taste for inflicting pain. If we can make her believe pursuing her threats will lose her more than she would gain, there may be room to negotiate. Konstanze’s ego has been bruised by a recent loss of territory,” he explained. “If only we’d gotten to Demi first.”