Age of Druids Read online

  “I believe you did the right thing,” Joy said. “She would impede your search for Huck, and should you bring her here, you might find it difficult to say no if she insisted on accompanying you. Your doubts are natural, but I concur with your choice.”

  Munro was grateful for the statement. He’d never felt so conflicted and distracted as he had in the past few months. Huck and Demi’s disappearance wasn’t his fault, but he felt responsible for finding them. In his previous life, he’d been a police officer. He had the training and skills no one else in the group had.

  As far as Anna, the druids’ strength increased with every one of their number, but he had an obligation to keep her safe, for Huck’s sake. Sending her home to her worried family surely was kinder than bringing her here where she would begin a process of irreversible change. He might have just left her behind, but wandering the Colorado forests alone wasn’t exactly the safest place to be, even if she moved competently and had successfully tracked him, despite Alyssa’s efforts to confuse her.

  Alyssa shifted, a fractional motion betraying her impatience. Munro glanced her way, and she stilled. She’d begun accompanying Munro on most of his searches within the human realm. Never once had she complained about the thin air, devoid of magic. Acceding to his every command, she often anticipated his needs. They’d developed a silent communication, and the Mistwatcher seemed to understand his moods of late. He was grateful for her companionship and how hard she tried. The search for Huck and Demi had become his mission, his obsession. Alyssa grasped that more than anyone else. He didn’t need to explain to her why he felt responsible for finding the missing pair.

  Munro sighed and went to the pedestal that controlled the Mistgate and put a small token in the shimmering pool of water on the activation stand. It absorbed the water magic and the portal vanished, leaving nothing but a towering arch of the finest Tvorskane marble.

  Munro had to acknowledge that he needed a few days’ rest. He felt like he might drop. A good meal wouldn’t do any harm either. “Thank you,” he said to both of the faerie women. “I appreciate your help.”

  “I’m only sorry my power couldn’t reveal the site’s secrets,” Joy said.

  “Thank you for trying,” he said, making an effort not to let his devastating disappointment show. His failure to make progress in his search wasn’t Joy’s fault.

  Leocort appeared from the direction of the Druid Hall. “My lord druid,” he said and saluted.

  “I’m going to Caledonia soon,” Munro told the head Mistwatcher. “Where’s Rory? I wanted to speak with him before I left.”

  A frown flickered over the Mistwatcher’s face, then vanished. “I’m not sure, my lord druid.”

  Munro grumbled. The Scottish lad had grown more and more unreliable with each passing day. It was time he took his responsibilities seriously and quit his nonsense.

  “What about Lisle?” he asked. Even though they hadn’t been successful, he made a point to keep her updated on his search for her granddaughter.

  “In Ceòthan with Lord Druid Sheng.”

  “Bloody hell, isn’t anyone around?” Munro wasn’t sure what he thought about this so-called Kingdom of the Mists, but he couldn’t stop them building the city. The Druid Hall needed its space and resources anyway, but the project was growing out of control.

  “Lord Druid Aaron and Lord Druid Douglas returned,” Leocort said.

  Munro glanced up at the stars, judging the time. Hell, Eilidh was expecting him in Caledonia an hour ago. He didn’t have time to talk to them all. “Please find Rory and send him to me. I’ll be in my suite. I need a bath before I meet with my wife. She’s probably been back from Eirlioc Falls for hours, and I’m already late, so I might as well get clean before I go.”

  “As you command,” Leocort said. Despite his behaviour being perfectly correct, Munro thought he detected a note of distraction about the Mistwatcher. He’d been that way for months, probably worried about Demi. She’d been the one to bring him here from Ashkyne, and since then, they’d developed a close friendship.

  No matter how understandable Leocort’s distraction, Munro had no patience left. The constant reminders simply added to his burden of responsibility for finding the missing druids. “I’ll find Rory and the others myself.”

  Within minutes, he’d found Rory. He, Aaron, and Douglas were eating a meal in the druids’ dining room. Munro signalled to one of the attending faeries. If he was going to take time to bathe before meeting with Eilidh, he may as well eat too.

  “Ah, good. You’re here,” Aaron said. “My bond with Joy told me she’d returned, but I haven’t seen her yet. Any leads?”

  “Not really,” Munro said. “Anna Webster followed us. I’m not sure where she picked up our trail, but I’m impressed she was able to stay with us.” He didn’t want to say that she never would have been able to keep up if Joy’s blindness hadn’t slowed them down.

  “Really? Huck’s sister?” Douglas asked. “What’s she like?”

  “You might find out for yourself one of these days. She’s a druid.”

  “What?” all three said at once.

  Munro fingered the small flute he wore around his neck. “I sent her back to Houston for now. She hadn’t been unlocked, and it didn’t seem right to bring her here with Huck gone and her family worried to death.” He shrugged. “Still, I’m going to be returning to America before too long. I’m half-convinced she’ll still be there. She had a remarkable gift for resisting Alyssa’s influence. I hope not though. It would be better for everyone if she did what I suggested and just went home.” Munro sat back so a faerie could place a plate of fruit and soft cheeses in front of him. “Anyway, I’m headed to Caledonia once I eat and bathe. I need to talk to Eilidh’s conclave.”

  “Oh?” Aaron asked.

  With a nod, he described the runes Joy detected on the artefact site in Colorado and explained that he couldn’t unpuzzle them even drawing on both Joy and Alyssa’s power simultaneously. “And Rors, while I’m gone, maybe you could make a little trip for us. This site is old and clearly druid-made. We should find out what it is. I’ve guessed the circle of stones is a gate, but I couldn’t swear I’m right since I wasn’t able to activate a portal there.”

  Rory frowned, his ginger eyebrows knotting under his creased forehead. “Where do you want me to go?”

  “Danastai,” Munro said, and the other three men snapped their gazes toward him. “I’d go myself, but I’m due in Caledonia. I’ll question Oron and the fae elders from Skye about these standing stones. Aaron, if you could talk to the Keepers while you’re over at the library, they might have some knowledge of the artefact. It’s definitely a gate site, but it’s not like the usual gates that lead from the human realm to the Otherworld. Makes me wonder where it used to lead. It clearly hasn’t functioned in a very long time.”

  Aaron said, “No problem. Douglas and I were heading to the library after we eat anyway. Cen’s been buried in Keeper Oszlár’s old study for a couple of days now. We’re going to go through what he’s found before we get started on the Source Stone again. We’ll take Joy, since she was with you when you found the gate.”

  “Wait a second,” Rory said. “Why do I have to be the one to go to Danastai?” He stabbed a piece of melon with his fork.

  “You have something better to do?” Munro asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance. “Or are you not done punishing Flùranach yet?”

  Rory flushed, his pale skin going beet red. He looked to the other two for support, and when they didn’t meet his gaze, he shouted, “You guys think I’m not pulling my weight? I’ve been working with Sheng all the time, trying to teach him everything I know about runecraft.”

  Aaron snorted but didn’t say a word.

  “Look,” Munro said. “I know you and Flùranach are having a tough time—”

  “Am I the only one that remembers what she did? That she turned on us, taking Oszlár’s side over ours? Manipulated Aaron’s mind when he was tryin
g to save us?” He pointed his fork at Munro. “Trying to save us from Ewain, I might add. The very guy you want me to go look for.”

  “He’s sworn not to hurt any member of the Hall and, in fact, he’s helped us.” He indicated the runic flute hanging around his neck.

  “He’s helped you. None of the rest of us got much of a crack at the thing. You puff on it constantly but don’t share what it’s taught you.”

  Munro froze, and the room went still. What Rory was saying wasn’t true. He’d given them all the opportunity to try out the flute, but none got as much out of it as he had. “Are you saying you won’t go?” Munro asked quietly.

  “I never said that,” Rory muttered.

  “Take Flùranach with you,” Munro said. “She can help you track him.”

  “Like I’d dare leave her behind.”

  “What do you think she’s going to do? You can’t keep her under your thumb every minute of the night and day.” He suspected Flùranach’s betrayal wasn’t really what Rory was mad about. He’d never gotten over what she did to him when she stole his bond. Munro had found her holding Rory down, his clothes ripped off, his will locked up by her substantial astral powers. She’d been fierce and brutal. If only Munro had arrived a mere five minutes earlier, he might have stopped her before it was too late. Rory had tried so hard to get past the trauma, over time even convincing himself he’d fallen for her. But that house of cards had come tumbling down, making Munro suspect that Flùranach had manipulated Rory’s emotions, trying to force him to forgive her, maybe even to love her. Magically influencing people came so naturally to her, she likely didn’t realise she was doing so half the time.

  “Where should I start?” Rory asked.

  “Once you get to Danastai, follow the flows. There’s no reason to think Ewain is hiding. When he escaped the shadow realm, he just wanted to go home. I’d guess the rune he set on the Mistgate wasn’t too far from his ultimate destination.” He paused, sensing Rory’s discomfort. “You could ask Sheng if he wants to go. He hasn’t seen the kingdoms much, and he might come up with some ideas.” The new air druid had proven capable, although Munro had to admit that with his focus on finding Huck and Demi, he hadn’t spent much time with the Aussie.

  “Fine,” Rory said, finally relenting.

  Munro stood and dusted a few crumbs off his jacket. “I have to go. Eilidh’s going to skin me alive as it is.”

  “You’re a druid lord, mate,” Aaron said. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

  “Yeah, like you don’t explain yourself to Joy?” Munro shot back with a chuckle.

  “I’m staying out of this,” Douglas said. “I know better.” He gave Aaron a pointed look.

  Munro clapped his hand on Rory’s shoulder as he was leaving. The other druid was overwhelmed with Flùranach and didn’t mean the things he’d said. “Just do your best. Find Ewain, describe to him what I found, and ask what he knows about other types of gates. This isn’t a priority. The gate is ancient, and it’s not going anywhere. Consider it more a side project, a point of curiosity. I don’t expect what you learn about the site will necessarily help me find Huck and Demi, which is my main concern. But anything that adds to our understanding of druid lore is important. Ewain swore he’d help us increase our knowledge. He won’t refuse.” Munro wasn’t entirely sure on the last point, but Rory needed to dig himself out of his rut, and having an assignment to take his mind off things seemed as good a way as any.

  Chapter 3

  Caledonia was one of five kingdoms that had permanent gates to the Halls of Mist, created by the druids after the reunification of the Otherworld. Eventually, every kingdom would have one, both for people to pass to their Hall and for goods, carts, and larger contingents to move through. For now, Joy was glad she wouldn’t have to ask one of the druids to set the Mistgate to her destination and schedule when she was going to be able to come back through the rotating gate. She and her attendant Jalail took the short walk to the Caledonian Hall and were greeted by the Watchers on guard there.

  Within moments, Jalail led her through and they stood in a small garden just outside Canton Dreich, Queen Eilidh’s main residence. Jalail wasn’t as adept a translator and guide as Cen, whom she sorely missed. He was conducting important research at the library, though, so she didn’t feel she should insist he lead her around. Besides, as her English improved, she could hardly demand help from a scholar as gifted as Cen. Although he swore helping her wasn’t beneath his skills, Joy disagreed.

  Joy heard the Caledonian Watcher salute her arrival. “Lady Joy,” he said. “Welcome to Caledonia. Is the queen expecting you?” The last note was politely quizzical, as though he knew for a fact Queen Eilidh wasn’t.

  “No,” she said. “I’m here to check on Jago for his grandmother.” She smiled through the lie.

  “Of course,” he said. “I’ll call for an escort, if you like.”

  She’d travelled once again without even one Mistwatcher to accompany her as an honour guard. Noblewomen rarely journeyed alone, and many saw Joy as being more defenceless than most. She waved his concern aside. A few months ago, she worried every day about having enough food to eat and how to avoid the dangers on the streets of Tafgul. No, she could handle walking barely a half hour through the beautiful and secure countryside between Canton Dreich and her destination. “The nursery isn’t far. I am looking forward to a moment of solitude. Thank you though.”

  She tapped Jalail’s arm, indicating they should be on their way. She felt the slight motion as he nodded to the Watcher. Together, she and her attendant walked down the familiar path. She’d come many times before, always with the same goal in mind, and she’d memorised nearly every step.

  As was typical for him, her attendant stayed silent unless she spoke directly to him. Aaron liked that trait, but sometimes Joy missed the running commentary Cen provided when he guided her. The young scholar seemed to understand instinctively how to be her eyes, showing her the world through his words. She could have asked for someone else, but only recently having achieved her rank, she didn’t feel comfortable using it when she could make do with what she had.

  Within a half hour, they neared the nursery. Even from a distance, Joy recognised the sounds of children’s voices, the bustle of nurses, and the hum of lively activity. With her spirit vision, she made out the bright, clear auras of the young faeries, but none shone as vividly as that of Princess Maiya. Jago’s aura was nearly as complex, but not as lively or far-reaching.

  When she told the Watcher she planned to visit Jago, that much was true. But his grandmother had no idea she was coming or that Joy had come several times in the last months since Jago was moved here.

  Red Mother. The words rang in Joy’s mind. Maiya must have sensed her approach. Joy could see the evidence of the girl’s complex magic, but the spirit faerie was no closer to being able to predict what Maiya would become than anyone.

  A bright aura approached. “Lady Joy,” a female faerie said.

  Joy recognised the nurse’s voice and smiled in greeting. “Muime. How fare Jago and Maiya?”

  “They are well,” she said. Joy sensed her staring. Although the worst of Joy’s scars had been healed by Jago’s emerging blood talents, she suspected she must still look strange to them. She was short for a faerie with crimson skin. Until three months ago, she’d been completely bald, having come from Zalia where, at the time, all azuri fae were required to shave their heads. So her black hair was still much closer-cropped than was fashionable. Not that Joy had any use for fashions. She was learning to use her new status as a noblewoman to open doors that would have once been closed to her, but she had difficulty understanding the strange and inconvenient structures noble society adhered to.

  “I’m pleased to hear that,” Joy said. “Lady Druid Lisle asked me to look in on the boy. She herself is occupied with the important matters of the Druid Hall. He’s a delightful child, so of course, I was eager to agree.”

  “Indeed,”
Muime said, her tone betraying that delightful wasn’t the word she might have chosen. She hesitated. “We weren’t expecting you. It’s disruptive for the children to have constant visits from home. I’m sure you understand, but the humans seem to have difficulty accepting the proper way of teaching children.”

  Joy nodded sympathetically. “I won’t stay long. I promise. I just need to be able to reassure her that he’s well and happy.” Her spirit vision showed her his immense aura approaching. “He’s coming,” she said.

  Muime turned, rustling her skirts as she moved. “Is he?” Even the most enlightened faeries who had accepted those with other azuri gifts had not yet grown accustomed to Joy’s spirit abilities. What was common in the slums of Zalia was rare and frightful in most of the Otherworld.

  Within a few heartbeats, Muime said, “Oh, you’re right. Here he comes.”

  “We’ll go for a walk,” Joy said. “It’s a lovely night.”