“Oh my god,” Huck whispered.
He retreated, rushing to return to their cave. He didn’t dare make a sound until they were back where they started.
“What’s wrong? Did it see us?” Demi asked.
“I know how they found us. Our talismans. They are attracted to them.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Not a hundred percent, but it makes sense. That’s probably why they haven’t bothered guarding us too closely and why they keep catching us. Over the past couple of days, I kept having seriously close calls. I’d started wondering if they smelled me.”
“If I leave my blood talisman behind, I can’t heal.”
“Are you healed enough that you’d survive, because we can’t cope with another attack like the last one. If I’m right, and we leave the artefacts behind, maybe they won’t follow. I mean, think about it. Why are they holding us? They obviously want something, but how did they know we aren’t regular humans?”
“Maybe they can sense us the same way Flùranach does.”
“You think they’re fae?”
“I don’t know what they are. I’m not even certain they’re alive. They feel wrong to my blood senses.”
“What do you want to do? We can try again, keeping the talismans, but I think we’d be taking a chance.”
Demi sighed. “You’re right. If we reach a hospital, I’ll heal the old fashioned way. Eventually I can create another artefact.”
“Should I put you down?”
“No,” she said quickly. “I can’t bear my weight again. I’ll get them.” She reached into her shirt and took out the small medallion. “This is the only one I have on me.”
“What about Munro’s?”
“Oh god, you’re right.” With slow, deliberate movements, she was able to retrieve it from her shirt pocket. “I’d forgotten. Do you think he’s looking for us?”
“If I know Munro, absolutely,” he said. “I have two around my neck. Can you reach them?”
Demi nodded. It took longer than if he’d removed them himself, but he didn’t want to jostle her more than necessary. She stared at the four artefacts. “I know we can remake them when we get home, but I hate leaving them behind. It feels wrong. What if they can use them?”
“I don’t think so,” Huck said. “If they could, they would have taken them a long time ago.”
“You’re right,” she said. With a sigh of regret, she dropped the four pieces to the floor of the cave.
“Okay,” Huck said. “Once more, then.”
They were five minutes into their journey before they saw one of the creatures. It didn’t turn their way, so Huck felt a surge of hope. Moving slowly and hiding when necessary, he carried Demi to the exit he’d found before.
A howl of frustration came from somewhere behind them and echoed through the caves. He had to assume their absence had been discovered. “Hurry,” Demi breathed.
“Hold on,” Huck said. She couldn’t grip him any tighter in her weakened state, but he’d wanted to warn her things might get bumpy. Moving outside, he was dazzled by the bright sunlight suddenly shining into his eyes. He needed a moment for his eyes to adjust, but he kept moving, scrambling blindly, clutching Demi as tightly as he could.
She cried out and he stopped, managing not to run into a creature that had appeared out of nowhere in front of him. The thing looked even worse in the daylight than any of the others had in the darkness. It locked its dead gaze on Huck and sniffed the air.
Demi pulled up her arm to block its blows, but the creature tilted its head, looking puzzled.
Huck held his breath, shuffling backward as it turned at the waist to look behind, then swivelled the other way. With a disgusting gurgling grunt, it walked around Huck, back toward the cave.
Demi started to laugh hysterically and Huck chuckled, but stopped abruptly. “Let’s go. Just in case any of the others are smarter.”
“Agreed,” Huck said. His adrenaline flowed, causing his heart to race. Moving as fluidly as possible, he ran.
Demi did as good a job as might be expected in keeping quiet, but occasionally a small moan escaped her lips. “Do you know the way?” she asked, her voice tight with pain.
“I know where we were when they grabbed us. I’m hoping we’re not too far from there. If we go north from here, we may run into that huge cliff dwelling place. Besides, if they are attracted to druid artefacts, they will have stayed close to that site we found.”
“The stone pillars,” Demi said thoughtfully.
“Right. I didn’t connect the two before, but it makes sense. They won’t have ventured far from something that powerful.”
“How long do you think before we get to town?”
“I’m not going to town. There’s a park station by those cliff dwellings. I can carry you there. They’ll have emergency supplies. Food. Water. We’ll tell them we got caught in a cave-in or something.” He continued moving, praying he was right about their location. “It was only a fifteen minute walk from the standing stones to the cliffs.”
Demi laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, wincing as pain wracked her body. Now that they seemed to be out of immediate danger, Huck slowed to give her an easier time.
The sun felt good on his face. He wandered much longer than fifteen minutes, but he hadn’t been completely certain of their location. Anywhere was better than in those damned caves. At least the air was fresh. If he didn’t find the cliffs soon, he planned to head east, toward civilisation. He didn’t want to carry her through fifty miles of wilderness, but he’d do whatever it took. Eventually they’d find a path, a sign, some hikers, something. “If we make it home in one piece, I’m never leaving the Druid Hall again.”
Demi smiled, her eyes still pressed closed. “When we make it back, I may never leave the bathtub. I must look and smell terrible.”
Huck glanced down at her. Her face was stained with grime and her lips bloodied and swollen. A huge bruise darkened one eye. “You’re beautiful,” he said.
She let out a surprised laugh and opened her eyes. “You’re a beautiful liar.” He sensed her gaze on him as he watched the trail. After long moments, she said, “I’ll never find a better man than you.”
“Were you searching for one?” he asked, grinning at her to soften the question.
“No. I wasn’t searching for a man at all.”
“You’ve been through a lot in the past few years.”
“That’s true. But ever since I met you, I haven’t had to go through any of it alone.” Her tone was thoughtful. She opened her mouth to say something else, but Huck interrupted her.
“Oh hell,” he said.
Demi turned her head to look, but tall brush blocked her view. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s no ranger station,” he said.
“We’re in the wrong place?”
“Shhh,” he said. “Look.” He held back a low branch so she could see. They had arrived at the cliffside dwellings of the Ancient Pueblo people as expected, but all signs of modern life were gone: the signs, the reinforced stairs with railings, all traces of park rangers. The area teemed with people walking, living, working outside. “We should get out of here before someone sees us.”
Confusion spread over Demi’s face. “Who are they?” she asked. “What’s happened?”
“We’re in the right place…but the wrong time.” He stood, staring, trying to figure out what to do. The people in those caves might help, but he didn’t know enough to know what kind of reception he and Demi would get.
“There’s no hospital,” she said as though the realisation had just dawned.
“No, there isn’t.”
“What should we do?”
“We can either go down to see if they’ll help us, or we go back and find the standing stones and hope that Munro keeps looking. He must have figured something out because those creatures discovered his talisman in this time. Either that or…” Or what? His mind was blank. None o
f this made sense.
“I’m scared,” Demi said. All the time they’d spent in that cave, she’d never admitted to being afraid.
“Everything is okay. Escaping the cave was surely the worst of it. Now we just need to figure out how to get home, to the right time. We got here, so there must be a way back.”
“You think we should return to the standing stones?”
“I do. We can find water and wait it out. If Munro is nearby, he’ll find that big-assed artefact the same way we did. I’ll help you make another healing stone.”
“I’m not sure I can,” she said. “The flows here are weak, and so am I.” When he didn’t answer, she said, “We can try.”
“You want to go ask for help?”
“No,” she said. “If Munro is searching for us, he’s looking in our time, not thousands of years ago. However we got here, those stones had something to do with it. Maybe we can figure out how we activated them and return to modern times. If we go down to those people, they might help us, but we might be stuck here the rest of our lives.”
“Good point,” Huck said. He turned and started to retrace his steps back toward the cave. “I can think of worse things than hanging out with you forever.”
Demi grinned, wincing when the action made her bruises crinkle. “If I wasn’t sure I have terrible breath, I might kiss you.”
“If you didn’t have several broken bones, I’d kiss you back.” They continued in silence, Huck trying to plan their next move. What he couldn’t figure out was how on God’s green earth he’d managed to get them lost in time.
Chapter 16
Rory stewed about the druids’ late-night meeting for two hours before working up the courage to act. His plan was simple: get the Cup of Cultus come hell or high water. In the end, he decided to leave for Meditar in the middle of the day. Even if the sea fae weren’t quite like other faeries, they had to sleep sometime. Chances were, they rested when the sun was out.
Before he left, he checked Sheng’s suite, hoping to find his breathing crown and diving suit laying around. The diving suit was in the bathroom, but the other druid must have put the crown away somewhere, and Rory couldn’t find it. Sneaking into Aaron’s suite was riskier with two people living there. Plus, the two of them had an attendant who might be lurking around. With any luck, he’d have gone to bed hours before.
Aaron had left his breathing crown on a side table. Rory managed to take it and slip out without being noticed. After returning to his own suite to change into the diving suit, he put the crown on his head and looked in the mirror. It looked good on him. Why the hell shouldn’t he be king? Everything that had happened to him was just damned bad luck. Why should he be held responsible for things that weren’t his fault?
Once he was ready, he moved as quietly as possible, walking down the wide main stairs and to the back of the Hall. A few servants and Watchers were still about, but they didn’t pay him any mind. Everyone was used to the druids being diurnal, keeping odd hours.
Outside, he headed to the Garden of the Mists and nodded to the Mistwatcher on duty. Rory felt nervous as hell, but he’d discovered the key to getting faeries to do what he wanted was to act like he expected them to comply. It was all about confidence. He didn’t have a lot sometimes, but he had learned to fake it.
“My lord druid,” the Mistwatcher said.
“Good day,” Rory said. “Making a short trip, so please make sure the gate stays open until I return.”
“Of course,” he replied with a salute.
“I shouldn’t be long,” Rory said. He activated the gate, shifting the panel to indicate the rune for Meditar.
When the archway filled with shimmering water, Rory checked his gear one last time, adjusted the breathing crown, and stepped through. Even though Sheng and Aaron had reported that the water had been drained from the room on the other side, Rory had braced himself for a shock of water. Fortunately, they’d been telling the truth. Even better, the room was unguarded.
Now that the small structure was empty of water, Rory studied his surroundings. Everything had seemed ominous during his first visit. He would have sworn the place was enormous. Funny how his panic had made his mind play tricks on him.
The sun filtered through the water overhead, and Rory could see quite a distance underwater. The Mistgate put out an eerie glow, but he hoped no one would notice during the day.
Rory stood, looking over the ocean floor. A distant structure beckoned, as though the Cup wanted him to take it home. The underwater castle looked much further away than he’d expected. Sheng made their journey sound like a two minute swim. Maybe it was for the sea fae. Bloody mermaids. “Quit stalling,” he muttered to himself.
He practiced sending air flows through the crown. If Aaron could do it, Rory didn’t expect any problems. Aaron was better with runes in general, but as a water druid, he shouldn’t have any better luck with the crown than Rory. Everything boiled down to luck.
After few more breaths, Rory steeled himself to test the crown. Pushing into the water, he had to fight a moment of panic when no air bubble appeared. But within a few heartbeats, he was able to concentrate enough to create one.
He didn’t like the way the bubble wobbled in the water and pressed against his face when he moved. Still, the others had done it. Moving like an ungainly gorilla, he pushed himself away from the safety of the hut and toward the sea faerie’s dwellings.
Swimming was awkward, but he managed a sort of bounce, sinking down a bit, then kicking off the sandy sea floor. In a few places, rocks or the side of a dwelling gave him purchase, and he propelled himself forward. He had to concentrate hard on the crown.
Fish moved in large schools overhead, and Rory flinched every time a shadow caught his eye or an unfamiliar sea creature shimmied by. He’d learned to swim at school, but only enough to get his basic certificate for PE class. He hated large bodies of water. This was the first time he’d voluntarily gone into the ocean. The sea floor was huge and felt empty, full of strange creatures and no bloody air. Still, if he got what he wanted, the stress would be worth it.
∞
When dusk came, Munro stretched and shuffled to his feet. He’d been lying awake for hours, thinking, planning, and trying to make some sense out of so many problems that felt completely unsolvable. In moments like this, when everything seemed uncertain, he missed Eilidh. He didn’t always agree with her advice, but hearing what she had to say gave him clarity. He decided that after he found something to eat, he’d ask if she had time to talk.
Before he could leave for Caledonia, he’d need to tell Griogair the bad news, that Lisle had found no evidence to support Munro’s admittedly hopeful theory. He couldn’t think of any further avenues to investigate or a way to justify keeping the prince from Caledonian justice. Munro had been so certain that with a few questions, the case against Griogair would unravel. Unfortunately, nothing contradicted his story. If anyone could have gotten the truth, it would have been Lisle. She often underestimated herself, but Munro had never met someone so persuasive, short of an astral faerie using magical influence. But Lisle didn’t manipulate like Flùranach did. No, the druid just made a person want to tell the truth. She could get this look in her eye that would make an innocent lamb feel guilty.
Down in the dining room, Munro greeted Aaron, Joy, and Douglas. “Good evening,” he said.
“My lord druid,” Joy responded. He wondered if she’d ever relax and call him Munro.
“Hey,” Aaron said.
Douglas nodded, his mouth full of food.
“No Lisle?” Munro asked, taking a seat across from Joy and Aaron. “She’s usually the first one down.”
“Nope,” Aaron said. “No Rory either. He must be having a right sulk.”
Munro did his best to stifle his irritation.
“What else is new?” Douglas asked with a smirk.
Deciding to shift the subject to keep his annoyance with Rory from growing out of control, Munro asked, “Tr
àth still around?”
“Aye, he’s been spending time with his old man.”
“Did you tell him what Lisle said?”
After a pause, Douglas nodded. “Didn’t seem right not to.”
“No, he has a right to know. I’m planning to visit Griogair after breakfast, then I’ll need to tell Eilidh. I guess I’m still hoping to come up with some brilliant plan, but I’ve got nothing.”
“Look, I know it sucks,” Douglas said. “But I don’t think anyone would say you didn’t do everything possible. Is there any way to let him stay here? Like house arrest or something.”
“I’ll talk to Eilidh,” Munro said. Truthfully, he didn’t hold out much hope. As much as everyone involved hated the situation, Eilidh wasn’t one to put herself or anyone else above the law. If Griogair committed murder, even Munro couldn’t save him. He might be able to talk his mate into not invoking the death penalty. Faeries tended to keep trials short and justice swift. Still, Munro was not without influence, and he hoped she would listen to what he had to say.
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