The Arcadian Druid: Age Of Magic - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Tales of the Feisty Druid Book 1)

by Candy Crum

  He’d stared death down and came out on the other side, having fought against an army of Arcadian Guards and alongside his friends. He'd never been alone with Adrien, though he'd heard stories of how terrifying he was.

  From the stories he’d been told, the feeling coursing through him at that very moment was very similar.

  He swallowed hard. "I did. I fought in the forest, and then we came to Arcadia to take everything back while Hannah destroyed Adrien."

  "And even though you never spent any time with him, you weren't enamored with the Chancellor like some of your now-fellow students, is that right? Like Jackson?"

  Amos’ expression reflected just how repulsive and offensive he found that thought. "Jackson didn't even like Adrien, but he did believe most of the crap he said. Like Only the richest people deserved to learn magic. Adrien was a vile, disgusting human being, and I'm glad he's dead. We should all be glad. He destroyed so many lives. And anyone enamored with that is just as cold, black hearted, and soulless as he is. Or, I guess I should say, was."

  A dark smile spread across Talia's lips before she broke into laughter, the sound of which echoed against the walls of her office. It was a terrifying sound, one that pierced the ears and went straight down his body into his bones.

  At that moment, his heart began to race, his body urging him to turn and run. But he had a feeling that if he did, he wouldn't get very far. There was something very disturbed about this woman. And no one seemed to notice except him.

  Talia slowly shook her head as her laugh faded. "Not entirely. He didn't destroy everyone's life. In fact, he happened to create one—just one."

  Created one? he asked himself. Then, the reality of the situation that he was in settled around him.

  Truth struck him as he looked into her eyes, fear bringing tiny goosebumps to his skin. Those eyes. It was hard—even impossible—to see without knowing what to look for, but there they were.

  They were Adrien's eyes, eyes he'd only seen a few times, but would know anywhere. His strong features somehow set in her delicate, feminine beauty. There was no doubt that Talia was his daughter.

  "You’re...” he said, unable to finish his words, his voice trembling along with his body.

  Talia closed her eyes and bowed her head before raising it again. When she opened them, they were jet black. "Yes, me. I am Adrien's daughter. Which makes you one very unlucky young man." Her dark voice oozed with a seductive tone, adding to the terror he felt.

  Amos' breath caught in his throat as his predicament became more and more clear.

  He knew there was no way in hell she would tell him who she really was without being absolutely certain that he wouldn't say anything to anyone. And because of how he’d so blatantly sided against her a few moments ago, she had to know there was no way he would keep that a secret.

  Which told him only one thing…

  "You plan to kill me," he said matter-of-factly, his voice barely a whisper.

  Talia laughed again. "See! You little rebels are so wrapped up in right and wrong, good and bad you have absolutely no imagination. Kill you? What would be the fun in that?"

  Amos swallowed hard, the imagination that she accused him of not having suddenly coming alive with a number of terrible scenarios. "And what do you plan to do with me?"

  "You'll see," Talia said. "I have a secret place to show you. I think you'll like it. I have things that I need to know. About my father, his death, and anyone here that may still have loyalty to him, and it seems like you know quite a bit."

  His head shook wildly, denying her words. “You should talk to Jackson, not me. I'm not giving you anything. I don't even have anything to give.”

  “Oh, I plan to talk to him. You—well, you're just for fun. See, I can't be completely honest with him and tell him who I am until I can trust him. And if I take him like I've done to you, he won't trust or help me at all, and I’ll have to kill him instead of use him. In other words, you're completely dispensable.”

  “I’d die before helping you,” he said, finding a bit more courage to put in his words. He figured that he was going to die anyway. May as well go out a hero instead of a puppet.

  “You’ll definitely die, but unfortunately for you, that day’s not today.”

  At that moment, Talia lashed out, punching him square in the face. As he fell back and tripped, landing hard on the floor, she walked over and brought her foot down hard in a painful kick to the side of his head, rendering him completely unconscious.

  ***

  Pain gripped Amos, his head feeling like it could split open at any time. His lips felt wet. As he extended his tongue, it was the taste of blood that greeted him. That seemed to bring him around to consciousness a bit faster.

  His eyes snapped open, but he had to blink away the haziness in the room. Slowly, things began to come into focus.

  The room around him was massive, easily able to hold a hundred people and comfortably so. The lights were dim, even for magitech, and the walls were red.

  Had it been brighter, he thought the room might have been beautiful—elegant even—with all its rich colors, elaborate torches, paintings, and furniture.

  But it wasn't.

  Instead, it was dim. The color of the walls looked like blood and the faint glow of the lighting appeared more threatening than warm.

  He took in his situation. There were no windows, so he imagined that he was in a basement. Underground where no one could hear his cries for help.

  His wrists were bound above his head, chained to the ceiling and forced to stand on his toes. Deep, dull aches filled his shoulders, and his hands felt tingly from the way they were tied.

  “Ah!” Talia’s familiar voice flittered through the room. “My pet has awoken. How lovely that you’ve finally graced me with your consciousness.”

  Amos groaned, having hoped that it was all a dream. Unfortunately, the throbbing in his face from a potentially broken nose and the headache that went along with it screamed at him, telling him this was as real as it gets.

  “Where am I?” he asked, his voice forced, yet still barely above a whisper.

  “You’re still in the Academy,” she said, fidgeting with something noisy that he couldn’t see.

  “I’ve never seen this place, and I snuck all around this place when I first started here.”

  Talia came to stand in front of him, smiling as she did. “You haven’t been everywhere, my pet. Well, now you have. My father had the basement sealed off shortly after the Founder left. I only know that because he told me about it in detail, including its location. The only entrance is through a hidden passage in Adrien’s office in the tower, which I now have access to.”

  “You’re a monster, just like your father,” he said, coughing as he did. He could barely get the words out due to weakness and the ever-rising pain level with every added moment of being awake.

  Talia laughed, the sound dark and sinister, wrapping around him and chilling him. He’d known just how awful Adrien could be because of the battle they’d just fought, but somehow, she seemed worse.

  “Oh, Amos,” she said. “That is a compliment of the highest order. He was a visionary. Growing up, he couldn’t visit often, but when he did, he spent his time with me wisely. Teaching me everything that I needed to know, conditioning me. He knew his fall may come, whether it be naturally or by the hands of assholes like yourself, and he wanted to make sure that things were taken care of.”

  “So—what? You plan to continue on with a massive airship and destroying the world?” Amos asked.

  Talia scoffed as she turned to walk across the room. She sat in a chair, crossing her legs as she looked around. “No. My father lost a bit of his senses toward the end. I didn’t quite agree with his plan for world domination.”

  A confused—and therefore painful—expression crossed Amos’ face. “Then what the hell do you want?”

  “Revenge,” she said matter-of-factly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Not
only did this city keep my father from me for my entire life, denying me of the one thing in this world that I wanted more than anything, it also turned its back on him. Wasting everything it had taken from us. It had all been for nothing. This city will burn for taking him away from me—not once, but twice.”

  “Holy shit,” Amos said. “You’re a fucking psycho.”

  She smiled again. “You have no idea. So, how about we talk about something else? Like your fellow students for instance.”

  Her eyes bore into his from across the room. Amos hated the way that she looked at him. Those eyes were cold, calculating.

  A psychotic mind in a beautiful package.

  There was no denying the fear he felt. All he could hope for was a miracle. That someone might find him—though, given what she’d told him about the secrecy of this place, he highly doubted it.

  “I ain’t tellin’ you shit, lady.” Suddenly, his voice had found itself, sounding strong and confident.

  Talia stood and sauntered across the room, one foot directly in front of the other as her hips confidently swayed from side to side with every step.

  She placed her fingers under his chin, gently grazing his lip with her thumb. Amos’ eyes narrowed as she leaned forward, her tongue grazing his swollen, bloodied lip.

  “Do you know what this tastes like?” she asked, her voice soft.

  Unable to find words, Amos shook his head.

  “It tastes like failure, like the key to getting anything that I want.” He watched as she moved back a few inches and looked down at his chest, his shirt having been stripped away. “Because if I don’t—I’ll have to take more.”

  As those last few words left her mouth, she gently traced a finger down his chest, intense heat burning into his skin with every painful inch. Clenching his jaws hard enough that he thought his teeth might break, he somehow managed to keep from crying out.

  Talia smiled. “Impressive. It’s a shame that flawless skin of yours will be scarred now, though.” Her bottom lip pushed out as she looked over her work. “Let’s not put too many more of those on you, huh? Just do as I ask.”

  “You’re lower than scum,” Amos spat.

  Talia’s mouth opened in feigned insult. “Now, that’s not very nice to say to your gracious hostess. To be honest, I don’t actually want to hurt you. You’re just a necessity. Tell me what I need to know, and I’ll kill you quickly.”

  “And what do you want to know that I would be able to tell you? Part of the city is destroyed, and the other parts are broke. That’s not news.”

  Talia shrugged, turning to head back to her chair. She sat down and once again crossed her legs, swinging the one on top. “I’ll be the judge of what’s interesting and what isn’t. So, pet, let’s start with your best friend, Jackson. Then—I want to know in explicit detail the steps that led to my father’s undoing.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  “He said what?” Arryn asked, a hesitant smile spreading across her face.

  Her hands fell to her sides, no longer caring about their training session. They’d been sparring for a while before Cathillian had decided to let her in on the big news. She was so excited about his words that she nearly dropped her spear.

  “He said he’ll grant you a pass on the Versuch. You might not be the best in hand-to-hand combat, but you sure as hell showed you knew how to take and deliver a hard punch to the face, and you’re also capable of dodging attacks. You did take her down, both with and without the use of magic—so his decision wasn’t him feeling sorry for you.”

  Arryn’s eyes were wide, still unable to believe it.

  Cathillian continued when she said nothing. “You won fair and square. Granted, I’ve taught you a lot over the years, and you’ve had various other warriors teaching you things, but you never had much interest in walking the path of a real warrior. So, for someone with only general training, you did amazing.”

  “Well, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to learn,” Arryn said. She shrugged. “It’s just that I knew I’d go back to Arcadia one day so I could find my dad. If I became a warrior, my alliance and dedication would be to the druid people. Only the druid people.”

  Cathillian stepped back, raising his spear. He motioned with his free hand for Arryn to do the same. “You didn’t want to make promises that you couldn’t keep. I understand. We all do. Still, you did great. My grandfather isn’t blind, and he’s not cruel. He saw how much potential you had. He’s just worried—we all are.”

  Cathillian stepped forward, thrusting his spear at Arryn.

  She jumped back. Then holding her spear in both hands, she quickly raised her hands, her spear hitting his higher into the air and out of her way. She dropped to the ground and thrust hers forward, the tip coming to rest just under his rib cage where his light armor didn’t cover.

  “Good! I should have been paying better attention,” he said.

  Arryn lowered her spear and stood. “Ugh. You were paying plenty of attention. You just don’t want to admit you screwed up.”

  He laughed. “And admit losing to a stinky old girl? Ha! I don’t think so.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’d do good to remember just which of the two of us have actually had a hot shower, sir,” Arryn said, pointing a finger at her opponent.

  “Another point to the stinky old girl!” he said.

  “Call me that… one more time. I’ll bitch slap you with this spear,” she said, pointing her spear at him as she backed away. “Now, back to the topic at hand. Why’s he granting me a pass on the Versuch? That’s a druid law. Why’s he breaking it?”

  Cathillian shook his head as he circled Arryn. “He’s not breaking the law. More like a gentle bending. Believe me, there are a lot of requirements.”

  “Requirements? Like what?”

  “First. I told you I requested the Versuch. He doesn’t plan to make a huge deal of it. It’ll be just like Laurel’s was. We’ll take to the pit in front of him and my mother, and a few other warriors. If I pass, I’ll be allowed to leave with you, but you’re only allowed to leave with me.”

  Her jaw dropped a little. “Seriously? Can’t I just retake the Versuch?” Arryn asked.

  She was only partly joking. Going back to Arcadia wasn’t a journey that she wanted to make with a partner. It would be very intense for her.

  She’d grown very strong in her time with the druids, but like the trial she'd just taken, she knew there would be times where her weakness might shine through. It wasn’t something she enjoyed, nor would she want a witness.

  “Cute, but no. Sorry, sweetheart, you’re stuck with me.”

  Cathillian lunged, and Arryn leaned her body to the right to dodge, but he’d anticipated her movement. His spear was a blur as it circled around and smacked her hard on the calf, using her uneven balance to easily take her to the ground. He then stepped forward and put his spear at her throat.

  “Point,” Arryn said.

  Cathillian stepped back, extending a hand to help her up. “My grandfather’s worried about you; Mom is, too. Actually, if I’m honest, so are the warriors and even me.”

  “But why? I know everyone thinks I’m weak, but—”

  Cathillian gave a hearty sarcastic laugh. “Are you kidding? No. That’s the furthest thing from our minds. Before, we worried about you going without protection. We weren’t sure if you’d be able to take care of yourself if something bad happened. Now?” He smiled as he took a step closer. “Well, now we’re terrified of you going off without training and wasting the gifts you have.”

  Arryn’s mind swam with the possibilities. They believed in her enough to bypass a total redo of the Versuch with only the stipulation that Cathillian go to accompany her. They wanted her trained. That didn’t seem so bad. More than that, it meant a lot for them to have so much faith in her.

  Arryn fidgeted with a small knot in the wood of her spear. “So, you’d be my trainer?”

  He nodded. “The warriors, my grandfather, my mother, and me—we all
saw something break open in you when you battled. To ignore it and not train it… To just let it go would be way worse than you missing out on a traditional Versuch. You fought. You won. The only thing you aren’t battling in is the weapons portion.”

  “I’d love the chance to learn how to control my powers. And if I can learn that trick that you showed me?” Arryn shook her head. “I could do a hell of a lot if the time ever came. Do you think you could put me through warrior training?”

  He smiled. “You mean actual warrior training? The whole bit where I actively try to stab and beat you with things? The same kind of training I went through? Because I train you all the time, and I think you’re doing just fine with the general type. I didn't feel comfortable trying to hurt you.”

  She looked at him with confusion. “Why do you feel uncomfortable? It's the way it's done with druids. It's what's normal. You aren’t trying to hurt me. You're trying to teach me, and if I get hit or stabbed, then it's because I'm too slow, and I guess I'll learn to move really fast, now won't I? Elysia still trains that way. So does Nika. Both of them are total badasses!”

  Cathillian laughed. “We'll, how can I deny a request like that? It's painful, but effective if you really wanna learn—and fast. Just keep in mind that you can tell me to stop at any point. You don't have to train that way.”

  Arryn stepped forward and slapped him in the thigh with the broad side of her spear. “And tap out like a bitch? Hell no. If I'm going to cry like a baby then what's the point of training at all? Nika broke my face… it's not so bad. Besides, it’s not like you weren't going to train me anyway. This is just better, and I think it would be good for me. You, too. It would keep you fresh with it.”

  He paused for a moment, examining the tip of his spear before turning his focus back to her, smiling. “You’re a very special girl,” Cathillian said. “You’re also a jackass. And quite the sarcastic asshole.”

  He paused for a moment, a look of confusion crossing his face. “Where was I going with that? All I can remember is that you’re a jackass and a sarcastic asshole. That’s all I got.”