The Druid's Guise: The Complete Trilogy (The Druid's Guise Trilogy)

by Michael J Sanford

  She pushed him away and scowled. “Where have you been?”

  “Me?” Wyatt asked incredulously. “Where have you been?”

  Lucy looked around for a moment. “I…I don’t know. I think I was dreaming, but it was more like a nightmare.”

  “You’ve definitely been dreaming, but that’s good because it let me find you here, wherever here is, and not like I had much choice in the matter.”

  Lucy fidgeted with her hands. “I remember Ms. Abagail singing to me…” she said slowly, each word seeming like a monumental task. “Then I was dreaming. Lots of dreams. Or maybe memories, but they weren’t mine. I don’t think. They were scary. But not scary like what the Bad Man shows me. Different scary. So, I had to keep running.”

  “Well, you found me,” Wyatt said with a grin. He squeezed her shoulder.

  Lucy shook her head. “That’s not why I was running.”

  “You didn’t want to find me?”

  Lucy pushed him away again. “Of course, I did. But I was running from the four-armed things and the flying fire men.”

  Wyatt straightened up and looked around them. “The Regents have been following you? Are they here?”

  “I don’t think so. I don’t think even the Bad Man can find us here.”

  Wyatt forced out a deep breath. “But they are following you? Even through whatever dreams or memories you came through to get here?”

  “Uh huh.”

  Wyatt groaned. “How can they be following you? I mean, they came through your memory of meeting me at Greenwood, but that wasn’t even you. It was the Bad Man that let them through…”

  “They followed us to Greenwood when we were on the roof in the rain. And then they followed us to Sanctuary. And then into my dreams and memories.”

  Wyatt felt the air vanish from his body. “They’re never going to stop following you, huh? And ever since I gave the Bad Man my power, there’s nothing to stop them…”

  Lucy didn’t say anything. She stared at her hands in her lap, still as stone.

  “But we’re safe here,” Wyatt said.

  “We are,” Lucy said. “But I don’t want to stay here. It’s lonely.”

  For a moment, Wyatt thought he saw the distant shape of Rozen walk through the darkness. Or was it Athena? Wyatt shook his head, knowing it was his mind conjuring guilt-ridden apparitions.

  “Well, can we get back to Sanctuary?” Wyatt asked. “That’s what I’ve been trying to do all along—find you and bring you back.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  Wyatt slid across a floor that didn’t exist to position himself in front of Lucy. He grabbed her hands, squeezing tightly to stop them from shaking. “We can do it. Together.”

  Lucy looked up at him, but her eyes seemed distant. Wyatt didn’t know if what he was saying were true, but he wasn’t sure Lucy’s magical power had a limit.

  “I can’t,” she said.

  “Yes, you can.”

  Lucy shook her head. “I mean I won’t.”

  Wyatt was taken aback. “You said yourself you don’t want to stay. So, let’s go back to Sanctuary. Just think really hard about it, or whatever it is you do. Think of Ms. Abagail. And we found Maia and Athena, too. You were still sick when we found them, but you’ll like them. Maia knows a lot of—”

  Wyatt stopped, seeing Lucy begin to cry. She remained still, staring straight at him, unseeing. “They’ll follow.”

  “The Regents? You don’t know that. And what does it matter? I came to get you back. We’re a family.”

  “I’m tired,” Lucy said. “I’m tired of the dreams and the memories. I don’t want to run anymore.”

  Wyatt grabbed the side of her face, fracturing the glazed look in her eyes enough that she focused on his face. “I’m not running anymore, either. So, take us back to Sanctuary and let the Regents come. No more running,” Wyatt said, feeling tears slide down his face. “From now on, we fight. We fight the Regency. We fight the Bad Man. And we fight the memories.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “Me too.”

  Lucy wiped at her face. “Okay.”

  Wyatt smiled. “Yeah? So, you’ll try to get us back?”

  “I already did.”

  Light illuminated Lucy’s face, transforming her eyes into brilliant emeralds lined with diamond tears. Wyatt spun around and climbed to his feet. A doorway had been opened in the infinite darkness, showing the same small library Wyatt had left from. He turned back to Lucy and tugged her upright.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “For what? You did it? I don’t know how, but you did it.”

  A crack of lightning split the strange realm of nothingness, obliterating the shadows. The darkness fell away to reveal the rest of the study in Sanctuary. Books littered the ground from Wyatt’s tantrum, but he hardly had time to think on it as his eyes went to the window and the building storm beyond. Streaks of lightning crossed over one another and thunder choreographed a symphony.

  “They’re coming, aren’t they?” Wyatt asked. “The Regents.”

  Lucy grabbed Wyatt’s hand. “And our memories.”

  * * *

  Wyatt and Lucy ran through the stone hallways of Sanctuary as quickly as they could. Wyatt could no longer see the magical storm outside the castle, but each thunderclap shook the mountains and sent aftershocks up his legs.

  Lucy didn’t say how or where the Regents would enter back into the Realms, but Wyatt had seen enough impossible things to hedge his bets on the worst possible outcome. He had once thought he could run from them—the Regents and his memories—but that now seemed embarrassingly futile. Ignorance was bliss, or at least better than all Wyatt had experienced so far, but it was still that—ignorance.

  The farther they ran, the more violent the hidden storm became, and the more panicked the inhabitants of Sanctuary appeared as the siblings raced by. They found a staircase and darted up it, nearly bowling over a line of women and children running downward. There was no time to ascertain their condition—Wyatt hardly had the presence of mind to wonder at their hasty departure from the direction Lucy and Wyatt were headed. Nothing would have stopped them, in any case. In that place of nothingness, in a moment so small, Wyatt and Lucy had formed an ironclad bond. And while victory still seemed a lofty dream, Wyatt knew they were far stronger together than they were apart.

  “They should be up in the Observatory,” Wyatt said between gasps as they passed another floor. He couldn’t remember how high the towers of Sanctuary went—all he knew was to keep climbing.

  “We don’t know what day it is,” Lucy said over her shoulder.

  Lucy was always a step ahead of him, both figuratively and literally. He said nothing, instead choosing to focus on his steps. Lucy hadn’t questioned him when they had first set out from the study. Neither of them knew what was happening or what would happen, but Wyatt’s instinct was to find his friends. His family.

  Lucy cleared the next landing and pivoted to the side, brushing against the wall and narrowly avoiding a collision with a young woman. Wyatt tried the same maneuver, but caught the woman’s knee with his own. The woman stumbled, steadied herself on the curving wall, and continued down the stairs. Wyatt lost his footing completely, bounced off the opposite wall, and fell at Lucy’s feet.

  Lucy snared his arm and was pulling him up before Wyatt had even stopped falling, but he was too heavy for her and they both went down.

  “Come on,” Lucy urged.

  Wyatt didn’t know what urgency drove at Lucy, but she seemed far older in that moment. She was still injured, Wyatt knew, though he hadn’t spoken of it since their reunion. Her shirt was stained, and torn in so many places it was hardly a shirt anymore, and though she favored her right arm, her face showed nothing of pain. Wyatt couldn’t imagine what she had gone through. Even asleep, Lucy couldn’t find peace. Even dreams became real for her, and memories became living nightmares.

  Something exploded above them, the sound echoing
down the tight stairwell. Loose stone and dust poured down the stone steps a moment later, forcing Wyatt and Lucy to dance out of the tower and into a broad hallway. The falling stone stopped, but a plume of gray dust continued forward, blossoming out of the narrow doorway. Wyatt and Lucy grabbed at each other as they retreated to fresh air, coughing and swiping at the dust as they did.

  They found reprieve against the far wall of the large hallway they had happened upon. It was far more crowded than any other place in Sanctuary they had passed through. People were running every which way, bumping into each other in their haste. A small child was shouldered to the ground as a larger teen ran by her. Wyatt was still frozen by the mayhem, but Lucy moved like a viper, striking out from the wall to snare the child and roll aside, just avoiding a stampede of adults.

  Wyatt pressed his back to the wall as they thundered by, their footsteps competing with the throb of the thunderstorm that had seemed to swallow Sanctuary whole. Once the bulk of the crowd had gone, Wyatt went to Lucy and the small girl she had saved. As soon as the girl could extricate herself from beneath Lucy, she was off and running again.

  Wyatt knelt at Lucy’s side. “Are you all right? That was awesome.”

  Lucy grimaced as she fought to bring herself to her knees. She pressed a hand to her shoulder and whimpered. Her hand shone brilliant with fresh blood as she examined it.

  “Your wound,” Wyatt said. “You must have torn it open again.”

  Lucy wiped her hand on what remained of her shirt and shakily stood. Wyatt rushed to put an arm around her, fighting to keep his own limbs from shaking as he held her tightly against his side.

  “Come on,” Wyatt said. “We can find another stairwell.”

  The sound of screeching metal pierced the deep ripples of thunder and forced Wyatt to wrench around to face the far end of the hallway, spinning Lucy along with him.

  An enormous set of wooden doors, dozens of feet high and nearly just as wide, were slowly swinging inward on rusted hinges. Wyatt expected to see a storm of Regents, but instead of four-armed behemoths, he saw a wave of new citizens pouring into the hallway as soon as the doors were open wide enough to admit them. They rushed in like a river, cutting a wide path down the center of the hallway. Some were yelling, others were busy dragging children along, while a couple of larger men carried elders over broad shoulders.

  Wyatt barely had time to move back to the wall to avoid them. Lucy leaned heavily against him, and he could see her shoulder slowly weeping blood.

  “Might be a good idea to follow their lead,” Wyatt said as the last stragglers passed them and disappeared around a corner.

  He made to do just that, but Lucy resisted his pull. Panic seized him, thinking she had fainted, but as he looked at her he saw her eyes were clear and focused, rooted on a handful of people still at the large doors, trying desperately to close them again. A horn sounded from somewhere beyond the giant portal, closely followed by the glint of sharpened steel and polished plate armor.

  “We can’t,” Wyatt said, knowing Lucy was trying to drag him to their aid. She would be no help in barring the giant doors, and Wyatt little more.

  “We can’t leave them,” Lucy said. She thrust a palm into Wyatt’s chest and twisted her body away, breaking his hold. She fell to a knee, but quickly began running toward the doors.

  “Lucy!” Wyatt shouted, taking after her.

  Lucy was moving at only a fraction of her normal speed, and panic drove Wyatt’s limbs. He caught up to her halfway to the door and lashed both arms around her slight body, picking her up and spinning back around in the same motion.

  She kicked against his shins with her heels. “We can’t leave them!” she shouted.

  Wyatt struggled against her opposition, fighting to flee with her intact.

  “Wyatt!”

  Both Wyatt and Lucy froze at the voice, just barely audible over the din of storm and steel. Wyatt dropped Lucy and looked toward the call. Half a dozen people were still fighting to close the doors, making little progress. All were focused on the task, save one looking over her shoulder, a shock of pink hair shining like a beacon.

  If Wyatt ever cursed, he would have done so, but the impossible decision at hand had turned his tongue to stone. He could see unending ranks of Regency soldiers through the gap in the doors. Thankfully, he couldn’t spot any Draygans overhead, but he still didn’t think there was enough time to secure the doors before the enemy was upon them. But how could he choose to abandon Ms. Abagail, even if it meant risking his and Lucy’s lives?

  Lucy was already moving for Ms. Abagail, leaving drops of crimson in her wake. Ms. Abagail shouted Lucy’s name and waved a hand at them before turning back to the door. Wyatt could have tried to drag Lucy away again, or even fled himself, but he wasn’t going to leave anyone behind.

  Wyatt reached the door just ahead of Lucy and slammed into it with all his weight. Lucy leaned against it and groaned, whether from exertion or pain wasn’t readily apparent.

  “What are you doing here?” Ms. Abagail asked.

  Wyatt could hear the clash of Regency steel, sounding like a choir of cymbals. It sounded as if it were mere feet away. The two doors were nearing each other, only a small gap showing, but if they couldn’t get it shut completely and barred, the Regency would just throw it open again.

  “Saving the day,” Wyatt said.

  Lucy coughed a laugh. “Yeah, it’s what we do.”

  Someone screamed, and the two people closest to the opening turned and fled. The others all stopped pushing at that and looked at one another before running away as well.

  “Oh shit,” Ms. Abagail said, turning from the door.

  Wyatt lowered his stance and pushed harder at the door. “Don’t give up now,” he said.

  Ms. Abagail grabbed his shoulder and wrapped an arm around Lucy as the doors shuddered. “Too late,” she said.

  Before they could flee with the others, the twin doors shook and swung quickly inward, scraping against the stone floor and letting in the full howl of an innumerable army. The stout timber struck Ms. Abagail, Lucy, and Wyatt and swept them into the nearest corner as the Regents marched in.

  Wyatt made to move, but Ms. Abagail curled an arm around the back of his head and slapped her hand over his mouth. She pulled them deeper into the corner and dragged all three to the ground. The doors were open wide enough that the one in front of them almost completely blocked out the view of the larger hallway. The gap between wall and door edge was only a couple of feet, and the trio was shrouded in shadows.

  “Are you crazy?” Ms. Abagail whispered. “Don’t move.”

  Wyatt nodded.

  Rank upon rank of Regents marched into Sanctuary. Some were heavily armored, steps clanging off the stone. Others were bare-chested, shouldering various weapons of great size. Their four arms made the procession seem greater than it was, but Wyatt knew that without his power, even one could cut them down. So, he remained still, slowed his breath as much as he could, and watched with dread and rage vying for control over his mind.

  Wyatt couldn’t begin to count them, and the enormity of the situation tore away his sense of time, but at some point, the ranks began to thin out. Wyatt still didn’t dare breathe, but it seemed their impromptu hiding place would keep them concealed. What good that would do to live a few moments longer when it seemed all of Sanctuary was likely to fall, Wyatt didn’t know. But every extra breath of life he got to take was one more to be used against them. One more chance to set everything right.

  Ms. Abagail stifled a gasp and clapped a hand over her mouth, jarring Wyatt from his vengeful thoughts. Passing into view were lines of elves, chained together, each looking more battered than the last. Wyatt’s muscles quivered and he twitched forward, but remained in the shadows. Away from their forest home, the elves looked small and weak. A few Regents patrolled the line, but they were hardly needed. Wyatt could see the strain on each elven face as they fought to drag the heavy chain links that bound them. Men
, women, children…

  Wyatt inched forward again, but Ms. Abagail grabbed his hand and turned him back toward her. She shook her head. Wyatt scowled back. Her face was streaked in tears, but she couldn’t know what Wyatt was feeling. She couldn’t understand. He pulled on her hold, but she tightened her grip and nodded at Lucy. Lucy was leaning against the wall, her arms wrapped around her legs.

  Wyatt looked back at Ms. Abagail and nodded, but turned to watch the Regency’s prisoners march past. He wouldn’t ignore what he had done. But Ms. Abagail was right in her unspoken words—he had to protect his family. And Athena and Maia were still unaccounted for. Every elf that walked past tore a piece from deep inside his being, but he stayed his impulses and remained hidden in the shadows. Like a coward.

  The line of elves finished and gave way to a tight rank of Regents dressed in full regalia—black plate armor and heavy spears, tipped with garish flags of green and gold. Wyatt’s heart skipped a beat. The Lord Regent is coming, Wyatt thought. Those must be his bodyguards. His hands curled into claws and he fought to remain still.

  But the Lord Regent did not march past. Instead more Regents came, dressed just as sharply, but moving out of rank and file. Between them, they carried what looked like a wooden crucifix—two pieces of timber attached together to form a cross. Two Regents carried from the sides and a third carried at the rear. And lashed to the device was the one failure that haunted Wyatt most of all.

  “Rozen!” he shouted with all his worth as he launched himself from the corner, out from the shadows and toward the imprisoned Draygan.

  Chapter Nineteen

  THE RAGGED FORM tied to the crude crucifix was assuredly Rozen. In the moment of stillness brought on by Wyatt’s outburst, he saw her face turn toward him. She only moved enough that Wyatt saw her eyes and knew it was her. Aside from the pit in his stomach, it would have been difficult to tell otherwise. Her body was dressed in rags, and bloodied. Her vibrant red and orange hair was plastered to her shoulders and back, the long braid wrapped around the timber she was bound to. And her once violently muscular form was thin. Emaciated.