Caledonia Fae 04- Druid Lords Page 15

  He glanced up at the other two druids, surprised to find them sitting back, talking quietly to each other. How had they moved without him noticing?

  Rory met his eyes. “Welcome back,” he said.

  “Back?” Douglas asked, confused.

  “You’ve been zoned in on that thing for over an hour,” Aaron said, his tone teasing, but also tinged with respect. “You’re gonna give Munro a run for his money in the rune department if you’re not careful.”

  “Really?” Douglas couldn’t believe it. He’d been working on this that long? A slight cramp shot through his right hand, and he flexed his fingers. Maybe the guys weren’t just taking the piss out of him.

  “You should work with us more often,” Rory said.

  That simple statement meant more to him than Douglas could express. “Yeah,” he said, staring at the wood. “Too bad it doesn’t do anything.” He held the wooden slab out to Rory. When he did, the light shifted and a glimmer appeared over the piece. “Did you see that?” he asked.

  “Let me take a look,” Rory said. He took the wood, tilting the slab back and forth. “Reminds me of seeing through water.”

  “We are water druids,” Douglas said.

  Aaron motioned for Rory to hand him the carving. He examined the wood closely. “Did you guys see green?” he asked. “Green and grey.”

  “Yeah,” Douglas said, and Rory nodded. “I thought the colours were part of the distortion.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said. “Those look like pine trees to me.” A smile spread across the druid’s face. “Now we’re cooking with gas.”

  Rory nodded. “Great work,” he said to Douglas.

  “It doesn’t do anything though,” Douglas said. His thoughts raced in spite of his underlying doubts. “I wonder if we need more types of magic. Do you think it would help if Munro added his stone magic and Huck his fire?”

  “I’m not sure,” Rory said, scratching the ginger stubble on his chin.

  “The Killbourne Wall did say they used all eight spheres for them to make their portal,” Aaron said.

  “Sure,” Rory said, “but they were creating a new world. We’re just building a doorway.”

  “I think we should have started with a doorway,” Douglas said. He waved his hand about four or five inches over the surface of the wood. When he did, his fingers appeared strangely bent, as though water refracted the light. He rose, wanting to show the others what he meant, but his legs wobbled underneath him and he plopped himself back down.

  “You need to eat first,” Rory said. “We made a good start, but this took a lot out of you. Let’s grab some food and take another whack at it later.”

  “Okay,” Douglas said eagerly. The success had bolstered his confidence, but Tràth’s absence created an aching void. Being away from his bonded faerie made him more tired than usual. He wondered if Munro ever felt the same way. He’d make a point to ask the older druid’s advice.

  The trio went to make their way to the kitchens. Even though they had servants, they liked to rummage around in the food stores themselves, much to the dismay of the kitchen staff.

  Their journey was interrupted. Just as they left the workshop, Munro and Huck rushed in from the courtyard. Munro said, “Good. You’re here. We have a serious problem.” He gestured back inside, and the other three didn’t have much choice but to return the way they had come.

  Chapter 13

  Munro led the others into the workshop, but then turned with a thought. “Flùranach and Lisle should probably join us.”

  “Why?” Aaron scowled. Munro noticed he’d been doing that a lot lately.

  Munro flopped down on a wide bench. “Because I think one of our next steps should be to go back to Amsterdam. Having Flùranach along allows the likes of you and me to go places where humans might see us. In case you hadn’t noticed, she’s the only astral faerie who’s offered to work for us. If you’ve got another up your sleeve, one we can trust, then by all means.” When Aaron didn’t reply, Munro asked, “Rory? Do you mind seeing if they’ll come down?”

  “Sure,” Rory said and left with quick, urgent steps.

  Not wanting to tell the tale twice, Munro decided to wait before he and Huck launched into their story. He noticed the runed wooden slab. It sparked his interest. “Whose is this?” he asked.

  Aaron sat with his arms crossed, not saying a word. Douglas spoke up. “We were messing around with some ideas about how gates work while you guys were gone.”

  Munro picked the piece up and turned it. The area above the wood shimmered, but it appeared to be just a trick of the light. “The Isle of Skye?” He raised an eyebrow at Douglas, who nodded, looking pleased. Munro was glad to see him engaged.

  “We were thinking we’d like to have our own way to the human realm,” Douglas said quietly, even though no one was around to overhear. “I…we were gonna try the same technique on a door or something.”

  “Interesting,” Munro said. He’d thought of attempting to manipulate the Source Stone, to fine-tune the artefact to allow a direct connection to the human realm, but this idea had a lot of merit. With this method, they might be able to make a gateway that bypassed the kingdoms.

  Rory returned a few moments later, followed by Lisle. “Flùr left word she was over at the library checking in with Oszlár.”

  “No problem,” Munro said. “I’ll talk to her when I go see him later.” He turned his attention to Demi’s grandmother. She still looked pale, but her sharp expression told him she was in a lesser state of shock than when she’d arrived from her trip through Caledonia the previous day. “How are you feeling, Lisle?” he asked.

  She hugged her light jacket around her thin shoulders. “Fine,” she said. “Did you see Jago?”

  “Yes,” Munro said. “He’s being well cared for. We weren’t allowed to speak with him, but he appears healthy, if a little confused. He’s not been mistreated.”

  She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. “That is good,” she said. Her thick German accent made the word sound like goot. She levelled her gaze at Munro. “And my granddaughter?”

  “She’s holding up,” he said. When she looked puzzled at the expression, he added, “She’s being quite brave.”

  “Brave,” she repeated. “There have been times in my life I’ve needed to be brave too. Unfortunately, I know what that means.”

  Huck interrupted. “Queen Konstanze made an offer we should consider. She’s willing to release Demi.”

  The old woman’s eyes widened with hope. Munro wanted to smack Huck upside the head. “What offer?” Lisle asked.

  “I don’t think the proposal is one we can consider,” he said with a warning glance to Huck. He knew the new druid had been chaffing at Munro’s reluctance. As the newest and least enthusiastic about putting his efforts into the Druid Hall, Huck didn’t see the full picture.

  “Not even if it means saving Demi’s life?” Huck shot back. Anger and frustration played across his strong features.

  “What does Konstanze want?” Aaron asked.

  Munro sat back on the bench. “She wants us to give up our claim to being draoidh and leave the Halls of Mist.” He related everything that happened in Ashkyne.

  Aaron whistled. “That’s quite a play,” he said.

  “No shit,” Rory said, then muttered, “Sorry,” in Lisle’s direction.

  “I don’t understand,” Lisle said, her brow furrowed. “I do not know this word draoidh.”

  Munro gestured to the workshop. “That’s the fae word for what we are: druids, creators, sorcerers. In ancient times, druids lived in the Otherworld and were revered for their powers. I don’t know what happened. They must have died out, gone from the Otherworld until we arrived. At first, they didn’t realise these ancient draoidh were humans like us, not until we proved it last year.”

  Huck argued, “Leaving the Halls of Mist won’t change what we are. Why not give her what she wants and move back to Caledonia if it means saving De
mi?”

  Rory spoke slowly and thoughtfully. “What worries me is that this is only the beginning.”

  Munro nodded. “If we back down, no one will listen to us again. If we say, ‘Oh, never mind. We aren’t draoidh after all,’ we’ll never make up the ground we’ll lose in every kingdom. Our power and influence will be diminished, not to mention the position of the keepers and every queen who supported us.”

  “So power is more important than Demi’s life?” Huck spat.

  Anger rumbled in Munro’s chest, but he did his best to hold his emotions in check. Huck didn’t seem to understand that Munro wasn’t building an empire, but he was trying to change an ancient society. He resented the implication that he didn’t care what happened to Demi. “I want to save her too,” he said. “But this ultimatum of Konstanze’s will put us under her thumb for the rest of our lives. No queen would let us have free rein in her kingdom after this, so we can forget searching for more of our kind. If we back down, then we’re not just saying ‘we’re only human’, we’re confessing to running a con for the past year. Even Eilidh would find opposition in her own conclave to offering us public support.” He sighed. “No, Konstanze plans to discredit us, Eilidh, and the keepers with this. Making the declaration Konstanze wants would affect the balance of power in the Halls of Mist. I’m not giving up on Demi, but we have to think about this from more than one angle.” He ran his hand through his short hair as he considered the options. “But if push came to shove, I’d do anything to save a human life, even if that means losing what we’re working toward. I’m not cold, just hoping to avoid digging ourselves a deeper hole than the one we’re already in.”

  Huck shifted uncomfortably in his chair and gave a reluctant nod.

  “So what’s our plan?” Rory asked.

  “I’ve asked for a public and impartial trial for Demi. Konstanze has denied the request, but I’m going to find out what Oszlár thinks he can do. There might be some precedent we’re not aware of. Some of us should return to Amsterdam to look at the scene again. We might get lucky and find evidence. Because here’s the thing…” He glanced at Lisle. “I’m not convinced Demi killed Ulrich.”

  “What?” Several voices spoke the question together, including Huck’s.

  “She confessed,” he said, looking bewildered.

  “What makes you think she didn’t do it?” Douglas asked.

  Munro watched Lisle. She didn’t appear surprised at his declaration. He didn’t want to lay out his theory in front of her though. He didn’t think he’d get her cooperation if she knew the direction his suspicions had taken him. The old lady turned her face away and blinked a few times, refusing to meet his gaze. “Just a hunch,” he said. He turned to the others. “I’ll go, see if I remember how to search a crime scene. Flùranach can use her illusions to help us stay hidden and alert us if anyone approaches.”

  “I’m in,” Huck said. Munro didn’t like the idea. The American was too emotionally invested. On the other hand, he seemed to have more motivation to exonerate Demi than anyone. Besides, Munro doubted he could stop him from joining in.

  “I’ll go,” Rory said.

  His volunteering didn’t surprise Munro either. Ever since Flùranach came to the Druid Hall, Rory kept an eye on her every move. It also didn’t surprise him that Aaron and Douglas didn’t offer to come along. Aaron stayed as far away from Flùranach as possible, and Douglas showed little interest in returning to the human realm.

  “I will also accompany you,” Lisle said.

  Her blue eyes glinted with determination, but Munro stood firm. “We’ll move ten times faster without you,” he said. “We can run almost as fast as a car and go virtually unseen. I appreciate your desire to help, but you should stay here.” He hesitated for a moment. “Besides, we need to keep you safe until this blows over.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “And will it? Blow over? Will my granddaughter’s life blow over?”

  He suddenly felt like a cop again, talking to a bereaved family member who wanted to know why a crime hadn’t been solved yet. “We’ll do everything possible for Demi. I can promise you that.” He held her gaze until she nodded.

  “The trip will take several days,” he said. “Time we don’t have. We can’t go through Ashkyne and the Belgian gate is supposedly unstable, so we’re stuck using a gate in England and going over the channel. And, well, I have an appointment in a couple of days’ time I can’t miss.” Eilidh would kill him if he was late for their wedding. The way he figured, they’d get back with enough evidence to cast doubt as to what really happened the night of Ulrich’s death. If they could manage that, they might persuade Konstanze to at least delay the execution. He also put a lot of stock in the keepers’ ability to convince her that executing a druid on his and Eilidh’s wedding day was unnecessarily provocative.

  “Maybe we’ll get this doorway idea to work,” Douglas said. “Surely we can take an hour or so to try. We couldn’t use it to return, I don’t think, but if our idea works, we’d cut the travel time in half.”

  Munro nodded, even though he was sceptical. They’d made a few talismans and all of them had learned to carve runes to some degree, but none had crated anything as complex as a portal. “I need to speak with Oszlár and Eilidh before we leave anyway, so you have your hour. We should plan to arrive in Amsterdam during the day, to allow time to speak to any witnesses.”

  “Humans?” Rory asked.

  Huck cut in. “Some neighbours were peering through the windows that night. Maybe someone saw something.”

  “We’ll ask around,” Munro said. “But we’ll need to be cautious. We have no idea if Konstanze has people watching the house.”

  ∞

  Since Huck and the other druid visited, Demi noticed a marked change in the treatment she received. A quiet, black-uniformed guard with dark blue-tinged skin and long, spiralled ears brought her blankets. Not once, however, did his swirling violet eyes meet hers.

  Later, the same guard brought her a plate of fruit. Beside it on the tray lay a lone yellow flower. The kind gesture nearly made her weep. After he took her dirty dishes away, he carried in a large ceramic pitcher of water and a low, empty basin. She used them to wash and relieve herself, then put the items near the door, hoping she’d guessed their purpose correctly.

  The entire time, a pale glow remained in the centre of the room. Occasionally the light disappeared, but she noticed the glow always dimmed when she heard voices outside. Someone, the blue-skinned guard, presumably, offered light and a few small comforts but wanted his actions kept secret. Was he the one who asked if she was a druid?

  Again, the guard entered and removed the used objects. He glanced towards her, but didn’t speak as he went about his duties.

  “I need to know,” she said in German. “Is my boy well? Please.” She’d tried but failed to keep her voice steady.

  He peered towards the open doorway, holding the pitcher of water in his hand. He made a slight gesture that may have been a nod.

  Her mind raced. What else could she ask? This faerie shown her kindness, but how far could she push him? “Thank you for the flower. Was it your voice I heard when I first arrived?”

  “You did not answer.” His voice fell dead in the air as though they were in a soundproof room. He must have been shielding their voices from outsiders. The easy use of power rattled her. She’d long ago lost her wonder of fae magic. Ulrich had taught her magic was a thing to fear.

  “I was afraid,” she said. When she saw the minute frown crease his brow, she added, “for my child. He is everything to me, and I have a duty to protect him.” Her amendment seemed to get through. The druid Munro had been right: the fae did revere children. Why would fear for herself surprise or disappoint him? Did he really believe the druids had more power than the fae? Huck told her druids were honoured in the Halls of Mist, but why?

  “Prince Ulrich was the boy’s father?” the faerie asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You adm
itted killing him.” A statement, not a question. Clearly he’d overheard the conversation with her two visitors.

  “He threatened my son,” she said. “Would you not do anything to protect your child?”

  “How did you do it?” The guard asked the same question Munro had, but she noticed a difference in his tone. Where the druid wanted to know what weapon she used, the faerie seemed more awed, curious how she overpowered a faerie of Ulrich’s strength.

  What should she say? “There is magic that has been passed down through my family,” she said.

  He watched her, his expression unreadable. He wanted more, but she didn’t know what to say. Should she lie? Tell the truth? He seemed to view druids as potent and fearless. What answer would convince him to help Jago? She needed to sound powerful. Raising her chin, she looked squarely at the guard who separated her from her son. “I turned his blood against him,” she said.

  He frowned slightly, then tilted his head to her in an apparent gesture of thanks, but she had no idea what he might be grateful for. She wanted to ask him for more information about Jago, but he left her alone again. “Hello?” she called. Switching to English, she asked. “Are you there?” Panic welled in her chest. “Please. I need you to help my son. I don’t care what happens to me.”

  After a brief silence, the air carried a voice to her ears. “He is well. The queen protects him.”

  No matter what she said or how she called, no more messages came. Those last words brought her no comfort, however. Jago needed to be protected from the queen. How could she possibly convince this guard to help her?