Caledonia Fae 04- Druid Lords Read online

  “As you well know, times were different then. Our attitudes towards humans have changed over millennia. Only a few years ago, any of us would consider bedding a human unthinkable, much less contemplate taking one as a mate. These customs are doubtlessly why Ulrich kept his visits to the borderlands secret. I wonder if he even knew Demi was a druid when he began their relationship,” Eilidh said. “When I met Quinton, I didn’t understand the magic pulling us together.”

  “Your concern for this woman’s child is admirable,” Oszlár said.

  Aaron moved so he could see Eilidh’s face. Why was she so intent to ask about Jago? Did she know more about this than the druids realised?

  “If I may ask, Your Majesty, why are you concealing your aura?” Oszlár asked.

  The sudden change of topic startled Aaron. Faeries didn’t typically go about with their presence masked, from what he understood, unless they had something to hide. She was adept at illusion. Aaron had the half-baked notion maybe the person he spied on wasn’t Eilidh at all. A chill swept over him.

  “Ah, I do apologise. I’m practising my focus,” she said.

  “Admirable,” he said and paused. “I heard you and your mate visited the new Caledonian altars to make sacrifices.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “A surprise to everyone, but we all pray the Mother blesses your union.”

  So she was trying to get pregnant with Griogair. Aaron grumbled to himself. Munro couldn’t be happy about this. Why would she do this just days before the wedding?

  “A surprise?” Eilidh asked, a hint of annoyance ringing in her voice. Aaron had to hand it to the old guy. Nobody else would have the balls to question a queen like this.

  “You are taking another mate in a couple of days.”

  She gave a laugh, but her humour sounded forced. “Even Quinton did not question me so rigidly when we discussed my intent. If our arrangement doesn’t bother him, why should it worry anyone else? I chose to honour Griogair and seek the blessing of the Mother. Isn’t this cause for celebration?”

  “All children are cause for celebration,” the keeper said. “All unions are worthy of honour.” His tone softened, and he took the queen’s hand. She seemed surprised but didn’t pull away. Neither of the faeries spoke for a moment.

  Eilidh glanced up suddenly. Aaron held his breath and stepped back, hoping she hadn’t seen him. He felt like a right idiot, eavesdropping like this, but if Eilidh had something to hide, or if there was a chance this might be an imposter, he wanted to know what was going on.

  Unfortunately, the pair turned and continued their walk out of the Druid Hall, towards the library. There would be nothing for Aaron to hide behind on the path. He followed them as far as the entrance to the Druid Hall, and he watched them in the distance.

  “What are you doing?” Rory’s voice came from behind him.

  Aaron jumped. “Jesus. You gave me a fright,” he said, turning around to find the red-haired Scot standing in the courtyard. Wanting to change the subject, he asked, “How’s Lisle?”

  “I don’t think she’s eaten or slept since we left Amsterdam,” he said.

  “Do you think Munro and Huck have any chance of getting her family back?”

  “If our so-called status means anything, yes. But that’s the big question, isn’t it?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Aaron said. “I don’t like the fae having so much power over us.” He didn’t mention Flùranach. Judging by the look on Rory’s face, his mind had already gone to the same place.

  “It’s weird you bring up the queens’ control. Me and Munro talked about that on the trip through Caledonia. I have some ideas. Want to help me muck about with a gate? Douglas said he’d help too.”

  “Where? Caledonia?” Caledonia was the only kingdom where they had unrestricted access. Considering what he’d just overheard, though, Aaron was uneasy about visiting just now.

  “No. Right here. I got an idea of how to start our own gate when Munro and I chatted about his visit to the Source Stone.” He gestured towards the workshop. “I’ll show you.”

  Eilidh’s strange conversation with the keeper forgotten, Aaron followed Rory, relieved to learn he wasn’t the only one who’d been concerned with maintaining a safe way out.

  ∞

  “I don’t like this,” Munro said. He and Huck stood outside an audience hall in Drokstul Castle, waiting for Konstanze to receive them.

  “What’s wrong?” Huck asked. He shifted his weight uncomfortably.

  A few minutes before, Munro had told him to stop pacing. Now he almost wished he hadn’t, because the American’s fidgeting irritated him more than the striding back and forth had.

  Munro gave a quick shake of his head. Faeries’ hearing was even sharper than the druids', and that didn’t even take magic into account. With any number of unfriendly ears listening, they had to act with caution. His mind spun as he considered the situation. He should have negotiated for a bigger contingent of representatives from the Druid Hall rather than showing up like a couple of supplicants. If a queen had answered the same missive, she would have demanded an honour guard plus at least an advisor or two. No way would she walk into hostile territory alone.

  On the other hand, he hoped accepting Konstanze’s terms would show they weren’t worried or intimidated. That, of course, couldn’t have been further from the truth, but several times in the past, his ignorance of social rules had worked to his benefit.

  Footfalls echoed down a wooden floor, drawing near the door. Munro turned to Huck and met his eyes. “Poker face,” he said, his voice low, hoping none of the fae would understand the reference even if the comment was overheard.

  Huck nodded. “Got it,” he said. To his credit, he did school his features by the time a faerie stood before them and gave a barely courteous nod in their direction.

  “Queen Konstanze will see you now,” the faerie said. He wore all black, as did most of her servants. His uniform was devoid of any ornament and struck Munro as appropriate to wear to a funeral. Perhaps the hard, utilitarian edge to the castle’s structure contributed to the association. This place had none of the light, open design of Caledonian architecture. Every detail, from the people to the stonework, seemed a deliberate effort to intimidate.

  Instead of taking them into the large hall, however, the faerie led them to an immense wooden doorway. He grabbed a wrought-iron handle and pulled. Munro frowned. Very few entrances in Caledonia even had doors, and they’d copied that form in the Druid Hall. He’d grown accustomed to the unrestricted character of the buildings, so this structure felt closed in.

  Their guide stood back and gestured for them to enter. Munro stepped inside without mentioning the lack of courtesy in the faerie’s manner, even though his conduct didn’t bode well. If a servant felt secure being disrespectful to a druid lord, what did that say about Konstanze’s attitude?

  The queen lounged on a long, elegantly curved wooden chair from which she read over a parchment without acknowledging their approach. Munro quietly surveyed the room. There were no windows and no obvious exits other than the one behind him. He assumed there was a hidden door somewhere on the far side, since he thought it unlikely Konstanze would let him block the only entrance. Behind Konstanze stood three faeries, all elders. Members of her conclave, he guessed. They watched the druids warily, which told Munro her insouciant demeanour was a careful performance. Whatever she had in mind, the conclave hadn’t been wholeheartedly convinced of its wisdom. Another worrying sign.

  Huck shifted his weight again, and Munro shot him a look. “We’re holding a two-seven off-suit,” he said quietly. The worst possible poker hand out of the draw. He forced himself to smile and hoped he was convincing. He had to keep Konstanze off balance. The druids might be in a bad position, but he had no intention of confirming they had nothing to bargain with.

  Questions played across Huck’s face, but he merely nodded. “Time for the flop,” he whispered back. Of course, if a
ny of the faeries nearby had ever played poker, their code would prove useless.

  Queen Konstanze, on the other hand, watched the exchange with irritation, clearly not understanding what passed between the two men. She placed her scroll on a low wooden table. “I think it’s time,” she said, “we stop pretending.” She lifted her gaze to meet Munro’s.

  “I wasn’t aware we’d been doing anything of the sort,” Munro said, focusing on maintaining a calm tone. “You’ve arrested and sentenced a member of the Druid Hall without trial. We’ve come to secure her release and that of her child as well.”

  Munro noticed the clench of her jaw and flick of her eyes before she hid her concerns behind a cool mask. “The human woman had never been to the Otherworld before her arrest. How could she be a member of your Hall? She is merely a citizen of the Ashkyne borderlands.”

  “Lady Druid Demi Hartmann was under our protection and a member of the Druid Hall the moment she struck an agreement with us. Humans are not ruled by faerie queens,” Munro said. “You had no right to take her.”

  “No right?” Konstanze shouted, all pretence of serenity evaporated. “She murdered my brother!”

  “Did she?” Munro said. “I have a witness who claims Demi Hartmann didn’t touch Ulrich.”

  “Ridiculous,” Konstanze spat. “I have personally spoken to every one of Ulrich’s men. I am certain you can’t say the same.”

  “Ulrich’s men weren’t the only people there. There was another druid in the house. Beyond the wards. Someone your men missed.”

  Konstanze turned her head slightly, as though watching the faeries behind her out of the corner of her eye. They glanced at one another but said nothing. “Then produce your witness. Bring him here, and I will hear what he has to say.”

  “Here?” Huck muttered, “You’ve got to be joking.”

  Munro held up a hand, hoping to stop the other druid from giving anything away. “What about the boy? You acknowledged in your letter he bears no responsibility. Why hold him? Surely the fae do not imprison children.”

  Konstanze looked startled. “He is not a prisoner. I want him trained by the best royal tutors, his talents fostered and enriched. The child is the one remaining remnant of my brother’s bloodline. I assure you, he will be as well cared for as any fae infant.”

  Munro nodded. The explanation gave him some peace of mind. Fae children were rare, by comparison, and therefore protected fiercely. He sensed from Konstanze’s reaction she was surprised he would suspect ill intentions towards the boy. “Thank you,” he said. “I would be most grateful if we could see Jago when we visit his mother.”

  “He is naturally distressed by the recent transition,” Konstanze said carefully. “I would not wish to upset him further. However, we will arrange for you to view the boy from a distance, to assure you if you doubt my word.”

  The last part was uttered with such contempt, Munro thought it unwise to push further. “I request a public trial for Demi Hartmann, to be ruled on in the Halls of Mist by impartial judges. We will call our witness there, where we can be assured of her safety.”

  Anger flashed in Konstanze’s eyes. “You are in no position to make demands, druid lord,” she said, spitting the title with disdain. “The human murdered my brother. She is not fae. There will be no trial.”

  “She is a druid!” he shouted. “She is under my protection, and I will not stand by while you kill an innocent woman.”

  Konstanze’s lips curled into a sneer. “Will you not?” She glanced towards her advisors again, then lifted her eyes to meet Munro’s. “And what will you do to stop me?”

  Munro cursed silently. He’d forgotten his warning to Huck. They were holding losing cards and had nothing to bargain with. He groped for a way to back-peddle. He never should have voiced even an implied threat.

  “You will do nothing,” Konstanze said with quiet menace. “You will do nothing because you can do nothing. Any authority the Druid Hall has amassed is based on fear and lies.”

  He wanted to argue that they’d never told a single lie, but he knew that’s what she expected. He held himself perfectly still and hoped Huck would do the same. “Is that so?” he said.

  “You humans parade around, and those weak-minded queens bow to you. To you,” she repeated incredulously. “Based on what? A few runes on an old wall and long-forgotten tales. What power do you possess? What right do you have? None.” Her eyes narrowed in a predatory stare as she considered the pair in front of her.

  “The keepers back our position,” Munro said.

  “The keepers?” Konstanze laughed. “That’s your winning argument? That a cloister of academics support your claim?”

  “So your challenge against the Druid Hall is actually a challenge against the keepers?” Munro asked.

  The faeries behind the queen adjusted their posture minutely. This was likely the part of her strategy they felt the least comfortable with. The keepers had, according to Eilidh, always been revered, even though they were often not magically powerful themselves. They gathered and protected the whole of fae knowledge, lore and priceless artefacts, including the Source Stone. For that reason alone, none dared cross them.

  Munro went on, “We spoke to the head keeper just moments before leaving for Ashkyne. If you have no respect for the Druid Hall, then no doubt he would be happy to call for a trial himself.” He added carefully, “Unless you fear what public proceedings might reveal about your brother and his secrets. After all, no one suspected your brother was azuri, did they?”

  “Ulrich was a gifted faerie, blessed with equal measure of water and air talents. Our family bears not a single drop of azuri blood,” she spat.

  “And yet, he was compatible with a druid, sought desperately to bond with her. Everyone knows only the azuri can initiate such a union. The bond requires higher magic. Interesting that you would deny he had such a powerful gift.”

  “I know what you’re trying to do,” Konstanze said. “That silly child queen you’re bonded to has clearly taught you some of her manipulative tricks. She might be able to fool the keepers with her ways, but you lack her astral talent.”

  Munro struggled to keep his racing thoughts from showing on his face. Was this about Eilidh taking Queen Vinye’s lands when Konstanze expected them to come to her? Was Konstanze trying to undermine the druids because she feared the power they added to Caledonia? Eilidh never talked about Konstanze as a rival or Ashkyne as a threat to Caledonia, but the Source Stone’s choice may have put Eilidh into Konstanze’s sights. Before this, the druids had an open agreement with Konstanze. Her brother’s death and losing Andena must have hit her hard to force this turnaround.

  One of Konstanze’s advisors leaned forward and whispered into her ear. He must have used a gust of air talent to diminish his voice, because Munro couldn’t catch so much as a murmur. She nodded and waved him back.

  “There is a solution,” she said. “I harbour no desire to combat the keepers, and you wish to save face after failing the girl under your protection.” She tapped her fingertip on the table as she considered. “I am prepared to release the human to you now.” She glanced up and met Munro’s eyes.

  “What do you want?” he said. Her demand would be huge after she’d been clear that she had every intention of executing Demi and maintained he was powerless to stop her.

  “Leave the Halls of Mist,” she said.

  “What?” Huck and Munro said together.

  “Oh, don’t pretend the Druid Hall is anything more than a building, mostly constructed by the fae of other kingdoms. You would be more comfortable in Caledonia, near Queen Eilidh, whom you intend to join formally in only a couple of days’ time. I understand being separated from someone with whom you share a bond is most unpleasant. Surely you would rather be close to her. You can rebuild your residence in Caledonian lands.”

  “Why?” Huck asked.

  “Because you are not the draoidh of old, and I am sickened at the way you pretend you are. They were m
asters of magic. Trained. Powerful. Legendary. And most of all, they were fae. You craft trinkets and imbue rocks with trickery to cause them to appear lifelike, but what use is that? No doubt you possess talents that may be valuable to the fae someday, but to see my people bow to you as though you were masters of ancient lore disgusts me.”

  Munro was stunned into silence. On one hand, she was offering a decent deal. Their status in society was fragile at best. And their workshop didn’t have to be in the Halls of Mist. Moving wouldn’t change their work. Deep down, he almost agreed with her. He’d always felt like a pretender. Oszlár’s urging had been mostly at the heart of the establishment of the Druid Hall. Without that, Munro might not have thought to move in the first place. He’d never wanted the glory or the deference many of the fae gave them.

  “And you would be willing to give up the opportunity for any Ashkynen fae to bond with a druid?” Munro asked.

  “There are no azuri in my kingdom,” she said flatly. “So your opportunity means nothing.”

  Before Ulrich died, she’d appeared friendly to the druids. He’d had no idea she harboured such resentment. But losing her brother after having the portal choose Eilidh to assimilate the new gates had clearly unhinged her. He paused. He had to take this to Oszlár. “I would like to see Demi Hartmann,” he said. “That is, after all, why we’re here. I will consider your offer.”

  “I will hear your decision before you leave Ashkyne,” she said.

  “I’m afraid that’s impossible. I’m not a king. Our decisions are made collectively, as a conclave might make them. I could agree to move back to Caledonia, but my choice wouldn’t bind the other druids to do the same. If you want the Hall gone, I must discuss your terms with them.”

  For the first time, she radiated uncertainty. She glanced down, as though resisting the need to confer with her conclave. “Fine,” she said. “You may visit the human prisoner.”

  “And the boy,” Munro reminded her.

  She pressed her lips together. “And the boy.”