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

by Auburn Tempest

  “Wouldn’t that be a nice change of pace?” Dillan says.

  “I could get behind that,” Kevin adds and squeezes Calum’s arm. “I’ve only been in the loop for a few days, and I’m exhausted worrying about all of you. I can’t imagine what you go through.”

  Aiden holds up his beer to salute Kev. “We’re getting good at watching our six. I’ll tell you that.”

  For the eleventeen-millionth time, I regret how my actions have impacted my family’s life and safety. I’d apologize again, but it solves nothing. I need to fix the problem. “Okay, let’s hear your plan, Granda. We’re game to try anything.”

  The Toronto Island Ferry system is a unique and rather ingenious way to deliver our aerosol spell. When Gran and Granda ask if there is regular traffic in the harbor, it’s our first thought. “Yeah, we have ferries that run every day of the year from the Toronto port across to Ward’s Island, Centre Island, and Hanlan’s Point.”

  “And they run often?”

  Calum has his phone up and is searching. “Yeah, every half-hour in peak times and every hour all other times. Three hundy and sixty-five days a year.”

  “As well as the other water traffic,” Aiden adds. “There are also regular dinner cruises and party boats that people book for large groups.”

  “Good.” Gran looks relieved. ‘That’s exactly what we were hoping for. The idea is to enchant the boats so that they churn the water when they travel through the harbor and the spell converts the magic into airborne energy.”

  “Will a spell like that last indefinitely or is it something we’ll have to maintain?” I flip through Beauty, looking for possible spells to use.

  “A bit of both,” Granda says. “Yer going to anchor the spell at the island docks to recharge and refresh when the ships dock to let the passengers and cars off and on, but yer also going to check on it now and then. If it means yer lives, it’s worth a quick trip down to the shoreline.”

  Aiden nods. “Kinu and I take the kids to Centreville on Centre Island once a month when the amusement park is open. I can check then.”

  Emmet nods. “And between patrols and beach events, I’m down there a lot too.”

  “It’s doable, Mam. Thank ye both for the help.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Our Toronto Island tour is complete by nine o’clock, and the aerosol spell is active and anchored to the docks. We’ve enchanted all the ferries, and the party cruise boats and landings as well. By midnight, it’s now time for the smoke and mirrors portion of the evening.

  While standing at the stone altar in the center of the druid circle, I breathe in and feel the released power of the ley lines misting in the air. The stage is set.

  My father, my brothers, and Sloan stand at attention around me. In their druid garb and with their weapons in hand, they are truly a sight to see. We lit candles atop the seventeen stone pillars, so the golden glow of flickering flames bathes the whole scene.

  I call my Tough as Bark armor forward, have Birga in my hand, and Killer Clawbearer at my side.

  This will work. It has to.

  The itchy tingle on my back signals the arrival of our guests. Garnet Grant arrives with a posse of four. I give him points for keeping his party small enough that he’s not overtly threatening us or accusing us of being untrustworthy.

  No doubt, he has more Moon Called Weres close by if he needs backup—but he won’t. This isn’t an offensive.

  The Grand Governor of the Lakeshore Guild steps into the ring of druid stones, and I smile. His swagger boasts of the confidence of his life experience. He’s the shit, and he knows it. For sure, he’s a predator and can defend himself and take lives. The promise is there in his muscled frame and the primal strength glittering in his amethyst eyes.

  But what impresses me more than his strength and sass is that he came here hoping for good news.

  By now, he and his Justice League of Superpowers must know that we’re new druids on the scene, but that we also have a vast history and a strong foundation.

  The Cumhaills are not only part of the original Fianna Warriors of the seventh century—Fionn was their leader. That was before the Viking raids, the Crusades, the Black Death, and before Charlemagne began his quest to wipe out Paganism and bury the powers and beliefs of the Celtic people.

  Before all of it, there was us.

  Those are deep roots, and druids are all about them.

  “Thank you for coming.” I dip my chin and spread my palms out toward the ring of stones. “May I introduce Clan Cumhaill, the direct descendants of Fionn mac Cumhaill, leader of the Fianna and rightful heirs of that honor.”

  Garnet seems to appreciate the flair for drama. “It’s nice to meet you all again.” Influence seeps off him as he speaks, but this time, neither my father nor my brothers fall under his hypnotic spell.

  A quick family visit to Dora’s club after dinner took care of that. She was thrilled to have her amulet returned to her. In return, she took care of any Alpha influence Garnet Grant held over them.

  Garnet’s grin widens as he realizes they are now immune to his suggestion. “Like that, is it?”

  I offer him an unapologetic smile. “If we are to be friends, I’d much prefer our relationship to be genuine. That’s a stronger foundation to build on, don’t you think?”

  He dips his chin again. “It’ll never be boring with you, will it, Lady Druid?”

  My brothers and Sloan all chuckle at that.

  I shrug. “I am me, and I refuse to apologize for it. I don’t conform well, but I also don’t play games. If I have something on my mind, you’ll always know it. I don’t mince words, and I often offend people who prefer social graces and subtext.”

  Garnet raises his palm to halt his men and stalks forward to stand directly in front of me. “As I said, it’ll never be boring. Besides, subtext and social graces are best reserved for dinner parties. In the real world, it’s best to put it all out there so there are no misunderstandings.”

  “I’m glad we agree.”

  “And to that end, why am I here?

  Here goes everything. “Well, to start with, since you’re breathing, you can tell the ambient magic is back.”

  He tilts his head back and pulls a deep breath into his lungs. “It is. Though it’s not the same as before. There’s a different taste to it.”

  “It comes from a different source, which I believe you’ll find more powerful.”

  “And is this source sustainable or is this a stop-gap to keep us from killing you for siphoning off the power we had before you interfered?”

  “You say interfered. I say utilized during an unplanned period of transition. Or, if you like, you could consider it payment for services rendered.”

  “How so?”

  “The different taste, as you put it, is our druid contribution. You see, before the Barghest group targeted me and tried to offer me up as a blood sacrifice, we weren’t aware of other druids in our city. Da and my brothers are police officers, and our family has long held to a code of Protect and Serve. To know that our magical sect has bloodied the streets of our city with not only dark magic but death magic is vile and offensive to us.”

  “So, you disavow the Barghest?”

  “We do.”

  “What does that have to do with the ambient magic?”

  “We reject their practices of necromancy and blood sacrifice. Their moniker praises a mythical black dog of death. It’s fitting because they are dogs, mongrels in the streets. If there are druids in this city, they should be held to our sect’s standards and principles. If they turned to necromancy out of desperation for magic, that’s over now. We’ve amped up the magic available in the city, and if everyone behaves and lives in accordance with the laws of decency, we have the power to increase it more.”

  Garnet frowns. “And where exactly are you getting this magic? That’s what I can’t figure out. Where would six local druids get enough magical energy to power the city?”

 
I draw a steadying breath. “From the fae ley lines.”

  I expect the rolling laughter from Garnet and his men. In fact, I’m counting on it. “Come, Lady Druid. Do you think the magical shortages of the city are new to me—to the Guild? We’ve studied every source of power available to us and ley lines have never been one of them.”

  “Until now.”

  He stares at me. At first, he seems to expect me to explain, but I don’t. If he wants answers he can ask for them. “You’re serious?”

  “As serious as a Moon Called mass killing in the streets of my city. Druids are the keepers of nature and the champions of the fae. It’s not surprising that the Black Dog couldn’t access the local ley lines, but we can.”

  “And did,” Da says.

  “And did,” I repeat. “We have picked up the mantle of our ancestors and will live by the tenets of our sect. Empowered Ones in Toronto who can utilize fae energy no longer have an excuse to torture and kill for their power. It’s readily available.”

  “There are magicians, witches, and druids alike who choose blood and death magic. It isn’t out of necessity. It’s a choice of their craft.”

  I nod. “And if they target innocent civilians, we have a problem with that.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “No. It’s us saying that our dedication to serve and protect extends beyond human boundaries. If empowered folks choose to prey on innocents, we will fight to end that practice.”

  “And are you blackmailing us with ambient magic?”

  “Blackmail, no. Cautioning, yes.”

  His brow pinches. “Explain.”

  “It took seven of us three days to open the conduit to access the ley lines. What the Guild and others before us haven’t accomplished in centuries, we did in days.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “I was chosen by Fionn mac Cumhaill himself to resurrect the Fianna and lead the druids into a new era. I’m not expecting that to be well-received by everyone.”

  “And?”

  “Annnd our efforts to establish stable access to the ley lines are ongoing. The potential for more power is real, but we won’t amp everyone up until we ensure the safety of the city’s citizens.”

  “She’s fucking spoon-feeding us,” Trent snaps. “I say we slaughter the lot of them and amp up the power ourselves.”

  I point at his man. “My point exactly.”

  Garnet frowns. “There’s no need to take a defensive posture. I will declare you and your efforts protected. No one will touch you.”

  I ruck up my shirt and wait until he gets a good look at the black and green bruising across my ribcage. It’s the second day, so the bruising has spread. It looks gnarly. I ignore the intake of breath from my family and stay focused on Garnet. “And why should they listen to a fucking feline who’s forgotten what it is to be an Alpha Warrior of Moon Called?”

  Garnet’s eyes flip gold and his muscled frame swells. “Who? Who fucking did that and spoke those words?”

  The circle of men, mine and his, tenses with the promise of a fight. If I point my finger at Trent, Garnet will slaughter him—I have no doubt about that—but will that bring the others in line or create animosity with more of them?

  I drop my shirt and draw a deep breath. The power of the ley lines is gaining strength. It’s nowhere near the levels of Ireland, but it’s a solid start.

  “My point is, there are dangers to us from those who don’t like us joining the party. I’m sure you’re aware that Acting Governor Droghun awarded the hobgoblins a Vow of Vengeance against us.”

  He nods. “And you should know, I opposed it.”

  “The Black Dog targeted us the moment we claimed our heritage and allied with the hobgoblins against us. If that’s how your grand organization establishes order, we have very different ideas of what law and justice means.”

  Garnet frowns. “I’ll look into it.”

  “Thank you. And, am I correct in assuming that since the ambient magic is restored and improved within the twenty-four hours allotted to contest the Vow of Vengeance judgment, that the warrant will be rescinded?”

  “Consider it null and void.”

  Yee-fucking-haw. I nod and breathe to the depth of my lungs for the first time in almost a week. The biggest fires are now out. We’re safe, our fae are safe, and our grove will continue to thrive.

  That’s a win-win-win.

  I’m about to end our meeting when I notice how unsettled his men seem with the outcome of things tonight. “Again, I am sorry for the siphoning of power and any impact it may have had on your people. There is time to build trust. For now, the ambient power is returned and upgraded. The Moon Called should be able to control themselves for the full moon tomorrow night, and the immediate crisis is averted. Let’s please call Phase One a win, and everyone goes home.”

  Garnet is still pissed and vibrating with a lethal threat. Thankfully, it’s not aimed at me. Still, when he manages to calm himself enough that his eyes flip back to purple, he bows at the waist. “Phase One is a win. Go in peace, Lady Druid. I look forward to when next we meet.”

  “Did it work?” Gran asks.

  “She was amazing, Mam.” Da winks over Emmet’s head at me. “I’m sure that Fionn himself was there and guidin’ her. By the end of it, she had me convinced that we’re an indispensable link in the ambient power supply chain.”

  “And the power is stabilizing?” Granda asks.

  I shake my head. “Not yet. It’s still increasing in the lake, but we’re controlling how much of it gets airborne. I just don’t think it’s wise to give people who have scrounged and killed for magic for centuries an abundance all at once.”

  “Yer not wrong,” Granda says. “Besides, it’s in the water now, so it’ll be in the taps and water parks and public fountains. With ground seepage and raincloud dispersion, it won’t be long until that entire area pulses with magic.”

  “And yer sure the aerosol spell will continue to extract the power from the lake water and circulate it into the air?”

  I nod. “We did the spell just like you instructed, Gran. Da and Sloan worked on the tethering and tying it off and had no problems. As far as we can tell, the spell will continue to convert the ley line magic into ambient energy, and it’s anchored off the Toronto Islands like a ship in the harbor.

  “That’s good,” Gran praises. “Ye don’t want powerful people to know how easy it would be to up their dose of magic.”

  “Agreed,” Da says. “I can see people blowing up huge chunks of the Canadian Shield and altering nature in all the wrong ways.”

  “But for now, yer all safe and ye think yer in the clear?”

  “For now, at least.”

  After the debrief on the ambient magic is over, I bring up a debrief of another sort. “Gran, have you got a good potion or spell for poison ivy? Emmet ran into a few bumps in the woods and is suffering pretty badly.”

  “Och, my dear, show me the rash, mo chroi.”

  I bite my bottom lip, but I’m the only one in the room who even tries to hold back the laughter.

  “Yeah, show her your rash, Em,” Calum jibes.

  “Fuck off, you guys.” Emmet’s cheeks are bright red. “I can’t show you, Gran. The rash isn’t anywhere you want to see.”

  “True story.” I offer Emmet an apologetic wince. I can’t look back at the rest of them because they’re all buckled over at poor Emmet’s expense. “Needless to say, he’s uncomfortable and would like for the torture to end.”

  “Don’t forget that Sloan’s here.” Calum points at where he’s standing at the end of the table. “If he has to do a bit of touch healing, I’m sure the two of them could getter done.”

  Sloan arches a manicured brow. “You first, buddy. I’m not the one who touches man junk.”

  Calum laughs. “I don’t touch my brother’s man junk, you perv.”

  As the room devolves into ribald remarks and general mayhem, Gran says she’ll get straight to work. I le
t them go. I leave my brothers to their playground bullying and head outside for some fresh air.

  “Yer Da’s right, ye know.” Sloan follows me out into the crisp night air. “Ye impressed that man, and I get the sense that he’s not so easily impressed.”

  We walk together across the back lawn and into the grove. I sit in my basket seat and use my toe to swing. “I’m glad things worked out. We have our sacred grove, our fae are safe, and who knows, maybe if Garnet and the Lakeshore Guild find value in our contribution to the magical cause, they’ll live and let live.”

  “That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

  I chuckle. “Yeah. Unusual, but nice.”

  “And the bruising on yer stomach?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  Sloan shakes his head and moves to stand in front of me. He grips both sides of the wicker seat I’m suspended in and stops my motion. “Last I checked, yer natural affinity for healing was one of your lowest scores. How about you let me make that decision?”

  I wave him off, but he drops to his knee and points at my shirt’s hem. “Let me see.”

  “You really don’t—”

  “We can heal yer side with or without a fight, but the result will be the same. I’m not lettin’ it go, and yer not movin’ from my sight until I assess the damage that fuckin’ wolf did to ye at the pub.”

  “How do you know—” The violence in his glare cuts off my denial. “What? There was nothing to be done. I didn’t want to make a scene, and by the time I got back to the table, he was long gone. I don’t want to make it a thing. I don’t want bad blood with Garnet and the Moon Called. We already have enough of a fan club building in the wings.”

  “Fine, but I could’ve eased yer sufferin’. Yer not indestructible, Cumhaill. And no matter how tough ye are, ye need to fall back on yer family and those ye trust to help ye out when the world closes in.”