Tales of the Feisty Druid Omnibus (Books 1-7): (The Arcadian Druid, The Undying Illusionist, The Frozen Wasteland, The Deceiver, The Lost, The Damned, Into The Maelstrom)

by Candy Crum

  The ice below her disappeared as she landed flat on her back in the waist-deep water and was immediately swallowed by it. As she fought the heavy current to come up to the surface, the water surrounding her swirled and froze, lifting her to safety and carrying her to edge of the river.

  As the ice set her down on the shore, she saw Celine's eyes fade back to their normal color. Her aunt flipped her hand toward the river, sending the water cascading back into it.

  "Your mom wasn't the only one who was really good with water and ice," Celine said with a wink. "Don't be afraid to ask me questions. I'm not as good as she was, but I still might be able to help."

  Arryn was still breathing heavily from the combination of magic fatigue and being under the water. She laughed, realizing just how stubborn she had been. She felt as though she had relied on everyone else so much while growing up, and even as an adult, that when she finally figured out how to do things for herself, that was the way it should be.

  But it didn't have to be.

  Asking for help didn't make her weak, and it didn't make her needy. It made her smart and resourceful. Her community thrived entirely on the push and pull of asking for and giving help. There was no reason she should be any different.

  In fact, she felt a little embarrassed.

  Arryn nodded. "Thank you. Sometimes I feel like I should try things on my own before I ask for help."

  Celine laughed. "That's exactly how bad things happen. Had I not been here, you could've busted your head on a rock when you fell and drowned."

  Arryn briefly looked at the river before meeting her aunt’s gaze. At that moment, Celine looked just like Arryn's mother. "Trust me, I won't be doing that again. Well, not alone, anyway."

  "I'm glad to hear it. So, how are things?" Celine's eyes flashed black as her hands briefly lifted in front of her, the tips of her fingers touching before she pulled her hands apart. The water that had soaked Arryn lifted free of her body and hair, leaving her dry. Celine dropped her hands and the water fell to the ground as her eyes returned to normal.

  "Things are good," Arryn said. "But I know what you're trying to do, and it's not going to work. How about we change tactics? How are you and Samuel? Speaking of good ol’ Sam, where is he this lovely afternoon?"

  Both Celine and Arryn turned east to make their way back to the village. Arryn stopped to pick up her training shirt and boots before going any farther.

  "If you tell him I told you, he'll kill me, so keep your mouth shut. But he's with the Chieftain. It's downtime for everyone, so he and the Chieftain are training."

  Arryn looked at her curiously. "Training? Hand-to-hand or healing?"

  Celine looked at her with a shocked expression. "How did you know?"

  Arryn winked. "I'm a good judge of ability, and sometimes I just sense things. I can tell when someone is a good person, which was what led me to hate Talia so much, and I can also sense magic. That's kind of a druid thing, though. In fact, I'm sure if you asked any druid here who knows Sam, they’d tell you they could sense the ability in him."

  Celine laughed. "You guys are all just being nice to him and not saying anything, aren't you?"

  Arryn shrugged. "Honestly, it's my nature to give him a hard time, but I don't for the same reason everyone else here doesn't. Even Cathillian hasn't mentioned it, as far as I know. The rearick hate magic with a passion. They just don't understand it. If we picked on him about his curiosity and desire to learn, he would stop immediately. And his motives are pure, so we don’t want that."

  "That's really nice of you guys, especially Cathillian. I'm really quite shocked he hasn't said anything, because he and Samuel are always giving each other a hard time."

  Arryn laughed. “Oh, trust me, the time is getting near. Once Cathillian figures that Sam knows what he's doing and that it won’t matter if he quits or not, he'll start picking on him pretty good."

  Celine just grimaced.

  Groaning, Arryn said, "I need to stop by my house before going back to the pit, or I'm going to be fighting in leather short shorts. I guess it would be pretty funny, but I'm trying to make a good impression on the younger guys. They need their asses kicked twice as hard because they think they’re studs and better than everyone else."

  "Well, it would also turn Cathillian's head," Celine said, waggling her brows.

  Arryn stopped, smiling briefly before shaking her head. "One of these days, but not today."

  9

  Once the sun had set on the Dark Forest, and everyone was exhausted from their day, the younger children were put to bed while the older children were given the opportunity to join the adults around fire to listen to the next section of the Chieftain’s story.

  The Chieftain once again held his two mugs of wine and smiled as everyone gathered around. Zoe had spent the day with him, watching as he taught the young ones how to work with vines. It was one of their most precious fighting tools, and it would come in handy for many reasons—especially at their age.

  Little Corrine had been quite a help in that department. She had taught them some of her techniques, and explained how the vines could be used by kids who were still too little to fight. Getting away quickly and hiding in the trees was a much better option for them.

  Once they had practiced for a while, Zoe had asked the Chieftain if she might train them a bit on mental barriers. Given everything that had happened in Arcadia, Zoe felt it was a worthwhile thing for them to learn.

  She would still be there for a few more days, and she wanted to help in more ways than just lending her talents to storytelling.

  The Chieftain allowed her to teach the students how to meditate, as well as create a strong mental barrier. Both those things would take quite a lot of practice, but Zoe was confident she could teach them the basics over the course of a couple days.

  The mystic came to stand by the Chieftain’s side as she had every night, ready to play her part. Once everyone was seated, the Chieftain took one last long drink from his wine and addressed everyone.

  "Thank you, everyone, for joining us again. When we left off, Alaric had disobeyed my orders and gone off on his own, resulting in the deaths of two of our people. Also, my wife and I had just discovered we were to be parents again."

  The Chieftain looked at his daughter, Elysia, and smiled. She smiled back.

  "I'm going to skip a couple of years, not because they aren't important, but because if I told you every small thing Alaric did to reinforce my convictions of trouble, we would be here for weeks, and we simply don't have that kind of time. In short, I should have removed him a long time before I did.

  "Over those two years, I caught him in many lies. In training courses, he would belittle the children and threaten them. He believed patience was for the weak. I didn't know about it for a very long time, until a fellow warrior caught him threatening to make training even harder if the kids told me. I spied on him, unable to believe it could be true, but I saw it with my own eyes."

  The Chieftain smiled and waved away the plate of fruit Arryn offered him before she sat down in her regular place next to Celine, Elysia, Cathillian, and Samuel. She shared the fruit among her friends and family.

  The Chieftain cleared his throat and continued, "The final straw came just over three years after we started our lives here. Trading with Arcadia had become very difficult, to say the least. Adrien demanded more and more, and I knew it was only a matter of time before he threatened us.

  “In that short amount of time, we had already developed a reputation. We trained day in and day out, just as we do now. Our physical appearance had changed. Our eyes had turned from their natural color to various shades of green. Our ears had become slightly longer and pointed at the top, and our skin and hair had become healthier.

  “The physical changes terrified people, and knowing what effective warriors we had become only scared them more. It also scared Adrien. He had no idea if we were stronger, and it drove him mad. Because of that, he tried to establish domina
nce over me and our people, causing great problems to develop between our communities. The day Adrien sent a group of guardsmen to us Alaric made his final mistake…"

  Alexander woke up when young Elysia ran in and jumped on the bed to rouse her parents. "Oh! Good morning, little girl. Why are you up so early?"

  "I wanna go wif you to meet your Arcadians today. I'm big girl, and I can do it," Elysia had said.

  He laughed at his toddler’s fearlessness, adoring the quality in her. He found himself hoping it never changed.

  "You know, I bet you could. In fact, I know you could, but today is a little different. Your mother says I need to delegate duties. She says I take too many responsibilities onto myself. It makes for less time to spend with both of you."

  Elysia leaned in close, looking at her mother—who was pretending to be asleep—and then back at her father. "Mama doesn't know everything, Papa," she whispered.

  The Chieftain put a single finger to his lips and whispered, "Shh… Don't tell her that. She thinks she does."

  "That's because I do," she said, rolling over and giving away her wakefulness. "Elysia, you can't go with your father to meet the Arcadians today because he’s sending Alaric to do it. That’ll be Alaric's job from now on. Your father will be staying here where he's needed most, and he will train the children in magic while I train the warriors."

  Elysia did not seem happy. "Fine. But dat not fair."

  Alexander laughed and set her to the side, kissing her forehead. "I have a feeling, child, that there will be a great many things in your lifetime you feel are not fair. Consider this training."

  He stood and made his way outside to find Alaric before he set out for the Forest border. He found him loading up the carriage he had hitched to the back of his horse. It was filled with wood that had been grown specifically to provide needed resources to Arcadia.

  The druids had spent time creating a patch of land where they grew only Arcadian resources. Adrien wanted more and more all the time, but the Chieftain refused to give him more than he already had. The quantity had been agreed upon, and the Chieftain refused to give more. Arcadia traded clothing, bread, and bed linens for the wood.

  "Let me know if things get worse. I fear our trading partnership with Adrien is ending. That path we’ve created from our home to the edge of the Forest may need to be grown over soon if he doesn't relent," Alexander said.

  Alaric nodded. "I agree. He doesn't deserve anything from us. You know what I think we should do."

  Alexander sighed. "Yes, I know what you and Jerick would like to see happen, but we aren't murderers. If and when Adrien poses a direct threat to our home or to our lives, we will engage in battle with him, but until then I have no interest in seeking war with someone I used to call a friend. There will be no violence."

  Alaric snorted, shaking his head as he mumbled something about Alexander being weak.

  Alexander ignored it, having come to expect that sort of behavior from him. "No violence. Is that understood?"

  "Yes! I've got it," Alaric snapped.

  Without another word, Alaric mounted his horse and urged him forward. Five other druids joined him on their own horses, two of them towing wagons full of wood.

  It didn't take long for them to reach the border, and the Arcadians were already waiting. Something was different, though. Something was wrong.

  They had no wagons with them.

  Alaric dismounted, and the others followed suit. They approached the Arcadians. "Uh, good morning," Alaric said, eyeing them suspiciously. "What is this? Clearly, we’ve held up our end of the bargain. Where are your goods?"

  One of the Arcadians stepped from the line, separating himself from the rest as leader. "Adrien says it's time to renegotiate. Where's Alexander?"

  Alaric snorted again, just as he had earlier with Alexander. "Renegotiate? I don't think so. The deal was struck, and the deal will stand. Alexander isn't here. I am second in command. If you want to renegotiate, you’ll do it with me, and I won’t."

  The Arcadian shook his head, chewing on his lower lip in irritation as he turned only his head to look back at his men. "Adrien demands that we be allowed into the Forest. What you're sending us isn't nearly enough to build an entire city. It's barely enough to build a bed, let alone a house for a full family plus furnishings. He wants Arcadian loggers to have full access. You can regrow everything. It shouldn't be a problem, right?"

  "Wrong. Are you fucking serious? Why should we have to work because you bastards chose the wrong kind of magic to practice?" Alaric said snidely.

  "We didn't come here to fight. We came here to strike a new deal. If there isn't one to be struck, we’ll return to Adrien and tell him so. However, I can't say he will be happy about this. Are you sure you don't want to get Alexander? Perhaps he might be a bit more…" the Arcadian paused for a moment, "understanding."

  "I'm in charge here. Alexander won't be agreeing to shit."

  The Guard gave a deep sigh before nodding once. "Suit yourself, but don't say I didn't warn you or give you the opportunity for diplomacy." As the man made his way back to his horse, he muttered the words "fucking idiot" under his breath.

  Unfortunately for him, he never stood a chance.

  Before anyone could see what was happening, Alaric unsheathed his knife and sank it deep into his neck. The man fell to the ground, blood gurgling from the wound as he choked to death on his own essence.

  The other guards realized what had happened and looked at Alaric with pure fury. One of them charged him, but Alaric easily dodged his attack and wrapped his hand around the man's neck.

  The Arcadian began gasping for air as Alaric's eyes turned green, the very faintest of gray around his pupils. The others could feel the magic emanating from him, which made them feel cold. They could only watch in stunned silence as he used what he called the “death touch” on the second guard.

  He had gotten better at it, and had learned not to use much since it would drain him quickly. He used only enough to make the man realize he was going to die before kicking his feet out from under him and snapping his neck with his strong hands.

  He looked at the other guards with wild, murderous eyes, and they ran for their horses, riding out as fast as they could.

  Alaric turned to his fellow warriors, his irises fading back to normal as his gaze locked on theirs. They stared at him with horror. "What?"

  Emory, next in command after Alaric, shook his head. "How could you do that? You heard Alexander. No violence. You killed two of them. Do you have any idea what that means?"

  Alaric laughed. "Hell yes, I do. It means they'll know who the fuck they're messing with. They'll know not to fuck with the Dark Forest. They'll also know not to question me again."

  Emory's brows creased as his eyes narrowed. "Who are you? You didn't use to be like this. Can't you see what you've done? You didn't teach anyone a lesson—you just declared war. That man did not threaten you. He offered you a chance to get Alexander, which we should have taken. Alexander would've found a diplomatic way out of the situation without anyone losing their lives. He's not going to like this."

  Alaric gave him a condescending smile. "Oh, he's not going to find out."

  Confused, Emory looked at his fellow warriors, each of them sharing the same expression. "You're joking, right? He has to be told. Not only did you just kill two messengers, you are out of your mind. You’re obsessed with power, just like Adrien. We heard him call you an idiot. Did we react? No. We stood behind you while you told him you were in charge, which made us look just as idiotic as you in his eyes. He called all of us that. We let it go because it's just a word. You killed two men who might have been perfectly innocent."

  George, another warrior, nodded. "He's right. For all you know, this could've been their first week on the job. I've sure as hell not seen them before during the other shipment swaps. Adrien might have told them he's given us everything in the world, but we wouldn’t cooperate with them. They could be innocent men, a
nd you just killed them for no reason other than your pride."

  Alaric nodded his head, feigning interest for a moment before he thrust his hand forward, vines bursting through the ground and wrapping around the throats of both Emory and George. Their eyes flashed green to defend themselves, but Alaric simply squeezed his hand, the vines tightening and snapping their necks.

  "Who else thinks Alexander needs to know what really happened?" Alaric asked, taking a step toward the final three. Each of them shook his head, and he smiled. "Good! Glad to hear it. Now, let's get our good friends into the carts. It's a shame the Arcadians killed them."

  The remaining three warriors nodded as each of them muttered unevenly, "Yeah, that's a shame."

  To make sure it was a believable story, Alaric used his knife to stab George in the throat, letting the blood soak his neck to hide the bruises left by the vines. He took a sword from one of the dead guards and took Emory’s head off for the same reason.

  Once that was finished, the bodies were loaded and taken to the village. Alaric told the whole story while the other three stood silently nodding behind him. Alexander could sense that something was off. He felt something cold and dead, and it wasn't the bodies in the carts.

  He knew Alaric had used that magic. The death touch.

  His people had used it while hunting, and he himself had once used it to ease the passing of an Elder. Each time it had been used, there was a sense of purity that accompanied it—except right then, and the first time Alexander had sensed Alaric using it. There seemed to be a dark correlation between Alaric and that power that no other druid was capable of.

  At that moment, Alexander realized it was the intention behind the use that caused the foulness. It came from the soul of the person calling it. Alexander and his people used that magic only in times when it was truly needed, as a form of mercy.

  Alaric used it just because he could.

  "You would stand here and lie to my face?" Alexander asked. "After all we've been through? You would choose power over friendship? You would choose power and control over loyalty and love?"