A Sacred Grove (Chronicles of an Urban Druid Book 2)

by Auburn Tempest

  A Sacred Grove

  Chronicles of an Urban Druid™ Book 2

  Auburn Tempest

  Michael Anderle

  This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2020 LMBPN Publishing

  Cover by Fantasy Book Design

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  A Michael Anderle Production

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact support@lmbpn.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, October 2020

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-64971-256-1

  Print ISBN: 978-1-64971-257-8

  The A Sacred Grove Team

  Thanks to our JIT Team:

  Dave Hicks

  Deb Mader

  James Caplan

  Dorothy Lloyd

  Jeff Goode

  John Ashmore

  Micky Cocker

  Kelly O’Donnell

  Diane L. Smith

  Debi Sateren

  Rachel Beckford

  Larry Omans

  Editor

  SkyHunter Editing Team

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Irish Translations

  Author Notes - Auburn Tempest

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  About Auburn Tempest

  Books by Auburn Tempest

  Connect with The Authors

  Other LMBPN Publishing Books

  Chapter One

  My outlook on life isn’t complicated—any day that passes when nobody tries to kill me or someone I love gets put into the “good day” column. Simple, right? Lately, good days have been hard to come by.

  Since I totally ignored Da’s warning three months ago and flew to Ireland to embrace our super-secret heritage, I’ve seen the world in a different light—a mythical and magical light. I am a druid.

  And yeah, at first, that blew my mind.

  Now, I think I have a better handle on it.

  Magic is real, and my family is part of the Ancient Order of Druids who have protected nature for millennia. In exchange, we were gifted with preternatural abilities by the fae. Now, if that were the end of it, all would be well in my world, but life, as does nature, demands a balance to all things.

  If we’re the good guys, there have to be bad guys.

  Since grabbing this particular magical bull by the horns, I’ve had a few harrowing scrapes with the impossible—dragons, leprechauns, Baba Yaga, evil druids, and even a couple of ensorcelled vampires.

  I have peed a little on more than one occasion.

  But the coolest thing that happened was when my ancient great-great- I have no idea how many greats-grandfather Fionn mac Cumhaill, leader of the ancient druid Fianna warriors, set me on a quest… Return to Ireland and reclaim the Fianna treasures from his ancient fortress beneath the Hill of Allen. To his horror, they’re in danger of being discovered or destroyed by the gravel company excavating the land.

  While it sounds like a crazy LARPing adventure, it’s not. It’s real. And that’s what brings six Cumhaill druids, a wife, two rug rats, and one bonded spirit bear to the Kerry Airport in the middle of September.

  “Jackson, get back here. Emmet, grab him.” Aiden jolts from the group to corral his four-year-old as the wily little beast evades Emmet’s grip and darts into the flow of arrivals, cackling with glee.

  I lean close to Meggie and giggle. “Your brother’s getting into trouble again, isn’t he, baby girl?”

  Meg is turning two, and I have her locked down in her car seat and nestled amongst the suitcases on our airport cart. There’s no escape. Not that she’s trying to get free. Meg is in what Calum and I call the baby coma. Past the point of exhaustion, she blinks and stares, too tired to interact with the world.

  Baby coma is a good thing.

  “Over there.” Da points to the Customs desk at the end. “Families with kids and strollers go through the desk on the end there.”

  I turn my cart to follow him, and Dillan spins his to roll along beside me. Yep, we’re quite the procession.

  “Let me know if you see her.” Dillan cranes his neck and searches the baggage area as we make our exit.

  The her he’s looking for is Baba Yaga. I glance around and hope like hell not to see her sexy, ebony angel persona anywhere near my family.

  “I doubt she still works here. I fulfilled her prophecy, and the queen delivered her box to her sisters in the afterlife. I’m sure she gave up the baggage claim gig the second Patty told her it had happened.”

  “Maybe she needed the benefits.”

  I roll my eyes and let that one go.

  “And you have no idea what was in the box?”

  I shake my head, and my red hair sweeps across Meg’s face. When I get nothing, I know she’s out. “Nope.”

  Aiden and Emmet catch up with us, both of them red in the cheeks and winded. “Captured.” Emmet flips Jackson upside down to raspberry his belly. “One crazy monkey boy to sell to the Ireland zoo.”

  “Noooo,” Jackson shouts while squirming. “I nots a monkey.”

  Kinu shakes her head and her brown ponytail swings against her neck. “I really think we should’ve stayed home.”

  Aiden bends and kisses her forehead. “Nonsense. If I’m flying to the Emerald Isle to meet my grandparents for the first time, you and the monkeys need to be with me.”

  I ease my cart behind Dillan’s, and we stop in the line behind two other families. “Aiden’s right. While we’re off on our family quest, you three can keep Gran company and enjoy a week away.”

  “Och, Fi’s right,” Da says from beside Dillan’s cart. “My mam will be out of her mind havin’ the wee miscreants all to herself. Ye’ll barely have to lift a finger. I promise ye that.”

  “Next in line.”

  Da turns as we’re called to the counter.

  “It’ll be grand.” I lay on the Irish lilt as I offer Kinu a smile. My reassurance falls flat, and I sober. “It’s important the kids grow up understanding their Irish heritage as well as their Japanese heritage. Then they won’t get blindsided like we all were.”

  Kinu laughs and waves that away. “I wish I understood. I’m still in the blindsided stage.”

  “I get that. I’m relieved Da said Aiden could t
ell you. It twisted him up to leave you at home all the time to come over for our latest disaster.”

  Kinu sighs. “That’s my point, Fi. I worried enough about him already being a cop. Then Brenny, and now this?”

  “It’s a lot. I know.”

  Having a father and five brothers putting on a badge and hitting the city streets every day and night is hard on both my heart and my nerves. Brendan’s death last month brought the dangers home hard. “The way I look at it, having abilities gives them an edge on the streets—a shield, a little extra strength, extra speed. It’s a good thing.”

  “I might’ve agreed with you until I found out the people they chase down won’t only be garden variety hoodlums and criminals.”

  I glance at the people around us in the arrivals lines. Most fae I’ve encountered could pass as human and blend into any crowd. “Yeah, that part is scary. I’ll give you that.”

  I ease up to the window and hand the officer my passport. Then Kinu and Aiden…then we’re through.

  Unlike the first time I came through the arrivals doors and felt lost and had no one standing on the other side of the doors waiting for me, this time I find Granda, Sloan, and—

  “Patty!” I head straight over to my leprechaun friend. The wispy, snow-white hair he usually keeps tucked under a leafy green hat is currently loose and wild. His cheeks are round with a smile and his mischievous blue eyes sparkle behind rimless glasses.

  “Dandylion.” Jackson points at Patty’s head.

  I blink, hoping Patty didn’t hear him and move so we turn away from Jackson’s observations. “I didn’t expect to see you. This is a lovely surprise.”

  “I wouldn’t miss welcomin’ ye home, my girl.” Patty reaches up to hug me.

  Granda’s and Sloan’s eyes widen as I accept the gesture and hug him back. Sure, touching a Man o’ Green is historically an impossibility, but Patty’s my friend. He trusts me not to trap him for his treasures because I know his last line of defense. The Dragon Queen of Wyrms chomps anyone who forces him to take them back to his trove of gold.

  Problem solved.

  “Coming here is so thoughtful.” I’m careful not to thank him outright. Not that it matters, I’m already bound to him both in a debt of gratitude and with a pledge of a favor owed. The former was a lesson learned after the fact. The latter was a conscious choice.

  Not that I regret the favor.

  I smile over at Sloan Mackenzie. He’s tall and dark-skinned and dressed like an Abercrombie model and only stands here now because of my bargain with Patty. “You pulled through for me in a big way, Patty.”

  Sloan scowls, which is his most natural expression. He doesn’t approve of me promising Patty an open favor marker in exchange for the restoration of his life. Sucks to be him. He’s alive and well, and that’s all that matters.

  Patty winks and squeezes my hand. “Her Devoted Mothership asks that ye visit yer wyrmlets while yer here.”

  Oh, hells bells. I’m in the country for fifteen minutes, and it begins. “I, uh, I’m not sure what our plans are yet.” My mind balks at the idea of being stuck in that death-reeking cavern in the belly of a cliff. “Places to go. People to see. Besides, I’m not sure I could find my way back. Send Her Fierceness my best though—her and all the little wyrmlets.”

  Patty arches a brow. “Yer best not to slight the invitation, missy. Grip yer dragon band and focus. Ye’ll be able to access the lair when yer ready to come.”

  I sigh when I hear the finality in his voice. “It won’t cost me another two months of my life, will it?”

  He waves my concern away. “Och, silly girl. It’s a visit. Yer the Mother of Wyrms. Ye must meet yer young.”

  Right. I’m so proud. I take in his eager smile and force a smile of my own. “Yeah. Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.”

  In the parking lot of the airport, we divvy up the group. Having already thought about keeping Da and Granda apart as much as possible, I send Aiden, Kinu, Meg, and Jackson with Granda in the Land Rover, and Da, Calum, Dillan, Emmet, and I go with Sloan in a black Skoda Kodiaq.

  “Duuude,” Emmet says as we pile in. “Is this your ride?”

  Sloan flashes a glance into the rearview. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

  Emmet shrugs. “I thought that since you can poof everywhere, you wouldn’t need a car, let alone a swanky, spank beast.”

  Sloan’s brow arches. “Keep in mind that ye’ll likely not encounter any other druids while yer here and almost certainly no other wayfarers. What ye’ve seen with me is the exception in Ireland, not the rule. When I go out for a pint with mates, I drive, the same as they do. We have to blend in and while yer here, ye’ll need to do the same.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, we’re all about blending.”

  Emmet smiles and clicks his seatbelt. “It must suck to pretend to be normal. I bet you mostly try to hang around with other druids, eh?”

  “I try my best not to.” Sloan pulls out of the airport parking lot and follows Granda. “Around here, most druids our age are entitled assholes with conniving minds and chips on their shoulders.”

  Dillan chuffs. “Well, I guess that rules out having a party to make new friends.”

  Da turns in the shotgun seat and casts a glance into the back. “Yer not here to party and make friends, boys. Yer here to help yer sister on her quest, train with Sloan and yer granda, and absorb all ye can while the magic of the isle feeds yer cells. That’s it. No pub crawls. No walks of shame. No gettin’ into yer usual trouble.”

  “Hello, fun police.” Emmet throws up his hands. “What if we wrap up the quest quickly and have a night off? You never know, Da, my soulmate might be in town waiting to meet me. You might be cock-blocking me from the destined mother of my children and your grandchildren.”

  I snort. “Honestly, stopping you from reproducing works in favor of Da’s argument, not yours. Sorry, Em.”

  “There, ye see.” Da flicks his hand through the air. “Listen to yer sister.”

  “Rude.” Emmet shakes off the jibe and points at me. “Now I won’t name our daughter after you, Fi.”

  “Lucky her. Now, back to what Da said about the magic feeding your cells. You feel it, don’t you? The ambient power in the air? You can almost breathe it into your lungs.”

  Calum nods. “It tingles on my skin.”

  Dillan smiles. “Does this mean we’ll get a steady power- up for the next few days?”

  “It does.” Sloan speeds up to pass a couple out for a leisurely country drive. “Lugh expects ye’ll want to settle in tonight, eat, visit, and rest. We start training in the morning, and I will assess yer skills and yer disciplines before we set off to the Hill of Allen the following day.”

  “Did you look over the information I barfed out when I was under the influence of the encyclopedia salmon?”

  He meets my gaze in the mirror and chuckles. “Yer granda is the historian of the Ancient Order of Druids. He’s been pourin’ over yer chicken scratches for weeks. He’s in absolute awe of ye, Fi. It’s killin’ him not to share it with the other families.”

  “But he hasn’t, has he?” Da snaps.

  “He hasn’t, sir. He understands, as do I, that for everyone’s safety and the success of the quest, it’s best to keep the details to ourselves until after we’ve made the retrieval and can tell them the whole story.”

  Da’s bristles settle, and I roll my eyes. If the two of them are wound and waiting for the other to piss them off, this will be one very long week.

  We’re rolling through the green hills of Kerry and are about halfway to Gran’s and Granda’s house when the Land Rover puts on its blinker and pulls over to the side of the road. “What’s the oul fool doin’ now?” Da mutters.

  “I’m not sure.” Sloan pulls off the road behind him and eases to a stop. “Maybe the wee boy needs to piss?”

  I frown. “Not likely. I took him before we left the airport to avoid this exact thing.”

  Granda and Aiden get out of t
he Rover and head back to stand at the driver’s side door. Sloan and I each roll down our windows to hear what’s up.

  “Change of plans, folks.” Granda leans down to see into the window. “I got a call on my wee cellular, and there’s been an incident at the Doyle estate. Sloan and Fi, take Aiden’s family home to Lara. I’m takin’ advantage of the force of coppers I have at hand to help assess what’s what.”

  “What kind of incident, Granda?” I ask.

  He scratches a hand over his whitening hair and shrugs. “I can’t say as yet. It was Iris Doyle who called, and she’s in quite a fit. Somethin’ about the death of her trees and terrified sheep and a big hole in the ground. I couldn’t make much sense of it. We’ll head there now. You two join us once ye get the young ones delivered safe home.”

  Sloan and I bail out of his SUV and get into the Rover. I look back, and both Jackson and Meg are out cold. “Nice. They’ll be all rested up for Gran.”

  Kinu chuckles. “I hope she’s as up for them as your dad thinks, Fi. They can be a handful in large doses.”

  Granda pulls a U-turn behind us and heads back the way we came. Sloan pulls us back onto the road, and we continue toward home. “Lara has inexhaustible energy and the patience of a saint. She will love them from the first moment she senses their energy. She’s hands-down the most nurturing soul I’ve ever known.”