Age of Druids (32 page)

“That assumes the people here will help us.”

“Yes,” Huck said. It was an enormous risk. This wasn’t one of those periods in history they’d covered in high school. Everything he knew about the ancient people who had lived in this place he’d learned from reading the top three lines of a tourist brochure when they’d first come to the area.

“Okay,” she said. “You’re right. We should move while we still can. I’m…not feeling very well. Can you carry me again?”

In truth, he felt exhausted, but he had to try. “To the moon and back,” he said. He reached down and lifted her with some effort, trying not to stagger or jostle her even more. She barely flinched, which told him she was too weak to care about the pain of broken bones. Not a good sign. “Your skin is hot.”

“Yours feels so cool.” She pressed her face into his neck.

“Okay. We go now,” he said, turning north to the path out of their clearing. As he set foot on a wide, flat rock, a tremor started. Bracing his back against a tree, he crouched down.

“Oh my god,” Demi whimpered. “What’s happening?”

“I think—” A bright flash of light interrupted him mid-sentence.

“What was that?”

“It’s coming from the direction of the standing stones.”

“Do you think it’s Munro?” Her eyes widened with hope.

“I don’t know. Possibly, or it could be the creatures.” He glanced toward the path, then back to the source of the now-dimmed light, uncertain which way to go. Everything in him wanted to go toward the light, but what if it was a trap? What if the creatures were looking for them? If he led Demi back into their clutches, she’d die. But if they missed Munro now, they might be stuck here forever. “What should we do?” he asked.

He looked down, but Demi’s eyes had closed. She looked peaceful. He shook her lightly in his arms. “Demi? Demi, wake up.” She didn’t move. Shaking her harder, he called her name again. “Oh god, no. Demi, don’t leave me. Stay with me.”

He held her tight and rushed toward the light, stumbling through the trees toward the standing stones. The track felt familiar, and he continued, despite the hot tears streaming down his cheeks. “You can’t die, Demi. I love you. I have from the moment I first saw you. Please.”

It took only a few moments to reach the standing stones. The artefact shone brightly, and in the centre of it stood Eilidh and Munro with their backs to Huck, both with elemental swords drawn. Between him and them were dozens of the creatures. Huck felt despair like he never had before. So close, yet so impossibly far.

When the pair turned as though prepared to fight the monsters, he froze. The two people standing in the gateway weren’t Eilidh and Munro at all.

∞

Munro kissed his daughter’s chubby cheek, then handed her to her mother. Eilidh looked tense, worried. “Are you having second thoughts?” he asked her quietly.

“And third and fourth,” she said, but did her best to smile when Lisle approached the Mistgate with Jago, Leocort by her side. “We’re ready,” she said.

Munro nodded to the new arrivals. “I go first, then Griogair will follow with the Caledonian Watchers. He’ll come through and tell you when the area is secure. If he doesn’t return, don’t follow us.”

“I
have
to find my mama,” Jago said.

“These are the rules,” Munro said sternly. “If it isn’t safe, you don’t come. Got it? I’ll do my best to find your mama, but you have to protect Maiya too. That’s part of being a bond-mate. Understand?”

The boy nodded seriously. “All right.” He reached up and took one of Maiya’s small hands. The way the pair stared at each other, Munro wondered if they were speaking telepathically.

With a final glance at his tiny daughter, Munro spoke to the Mistwatcher on duty. “Tell Prince Griogair it’s time.” The Mistwatcher saluted and hurried away to deliver the word to Griogair, who was waiting to lead a much larger contingent than could have fit in the small garden. They’d planned to go through single-file on Munro’s signal.

Munro kissed Eilidh on the cheek. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

She nodded grimly. “I love you.”

He wished she hadn’t said that. It made him think she didn’t expect to see him again.

A moment later, the Mistwatcher returned, followed by Prince Griogair and a line of Caledonian Watchers, all with elemental swords drawn. He saluted Munro. “Caledonia awaits your command, my lord druid.”

Munro nodded and turned the control on the Mistgate pedestal to a rune he’d only just carved in a few minutes before. It read:
The Way
. Pressing his hand into the depression on the panel’s surface, his stone power surged into it. An immense light flashed, and suddenly the entire Garden of Mists was no longer in the Druid Hall.

“You idiot,” Ewain spat as the world spun.
Where had he come from?
“You connected your Mistgate directly with The Way? Are you insane?” Flùranach clung to his side, both of them fading in and out like ghosts.

Munro had merged the Mistgate with the Way, and apparently Ewain and Flùranach had been working on some plan of their own.
I should have known
, Munro thought. “Eilidh, Lisle, run. Get the children out of the garden,” Munro shouted over the roaring in his ears, hoping if they could walk outside the garden, they’d move outside the circle of stones.

Eilidh gripped Maiya tightly, but as she approached the border, she stopped. “There’s no way out!” she said. In the darkness outside the circle of stones, glowing red pinpoints approached. Bizarre creatures approached, fiery gems embedded in their foreheads.
Shit
. Eilidh and Lisle both came back to the centre of the tiny island, followed by Griogair and Leocort, along with the one other Mistwatcher and five of the Watchers. The soldiers spread out to surround the others, swords drawn as dark creatures approached the edge of the circle.

A voice came into Munro’s head.
Close the Mistgate.
It wasn’t Eilidh, but it was a familiar voice. A woman’s voice.

“Maiya?” He glanced toward his daughter, but she didn’t look as though she was focused on him.

Daddy, please. Do it now. Close the Mistgate.

Without hesitating even a moment longer, he went to the pedestal and, with a small token, soaked up the fluid that had pooled in the recessed handprint. When it was almost gone, he looked up, only to see a tall woman with flowing white hair step out of the darkness. She quickly took his hand and held tight as Eilidh, the children, Lisle, Griogair and the Watchers vanished in an instant, leaving Munro, his grown daughter, Ewain and Flùranach on solid ground inside The Way.

“Jago!” she called and conjured an elemental sword that gleamed like ice.

A young man appeared from the shadows. He was taller than she, with dark hair and the same almond-shaped eyes his mother had. He moved like quicksilver, drawing a blackened elemental sword that hissed when it manifested.

Munro didn’t see the first creature that lunged at them. Maiya moved like a deadly dancer, her sword as an extension of her arm. She struck the thing down with a mighty blow while Munro watched helplessly.

“No!” Ewain shouted. “You don’t have to kill them.”

Maiya turned and glared at the elder druid. “Don’t make me hurt you,” she said, spinning to take another creature through the gut. Dark, foul-smelling blood spilled onto the ground when she wrenched her sword free. Jago caught another as it rushed Maiya’s back. He dispatched it with the same ruthless efficiency she had shown, a smile on his lips.

When his sword arced back, a line of blood splattered onto Munro’s shirt. Jago bowed to him. “My apologies, Your Majesty.”

Munro opened his mouth to speak, but Jago moved in a flash, defending the small group from another attack.

“They aren’t very bright,” Jago explained. “If they attacked together, we’d be done for, but they are still testing us.”

“The Cup!” Ewain shouted at Flùranach.

Maiya glanced at both of them, then nodded at Jago. The instant the small artefact appeared in Flùranach’s hand, both the children, who were clearly no longer children, moved as one.

Munro shouted to warn them, but they paid him no mind as they rushed the other pair. Maiya’s elemental sword morphed into a large shepherd’s crook, and she pulled Flùranach’s legs out from under her. The faerie tumbled to the ground.

Ewain roared with anger and reached for Maiya. His hand went to her chest, and through the power of his crown, Munro could see the elder druid was attempting to delve into Maiya’s power.

Jago spun to take on another creature, this one larger than the others. The boy took a hard blow, but in the process, hacked the thing’s arm off.

A shout from Ewain drew Munro’s attention. Maiya was actually repelling his attempts to wrangle her power. She reached up and put her hand on Ewain’s face. “Do not make me hurt you,” she repeated. A rush of power went from her hand into Ewain’s head, and he went slack-jawed with shock.

Flùranach scrambled up to her knees and focused on Maiya. “Let him go,” she said, her own substantial power whipping around Munro’s daughter.

Munro reached in his mind, using all his strength to delve into Flùranach’s flows. He grabbed them roughly. “Don’t even think about touching my daughter,” he said. Maiya flashed him a smile. His heart melted when he realised it was Eilidh’s smile. “You’re beautiful,” he said. “You are, were, a beautiful baby, but seeing you…”

“I know it’s strange, Daddy,” she said, then grinned. “You look young.”

He chuckled but was brought up short when Jago shouted, “Down!”

Munro did as commanded, and Jago’s black blade swept where Munro’s head had been only seconds before. It sliced into a smaller creature that had approached from Munro’s blind spot. “Thanks, son,” Munro said, exhaling his relief.

Jago bowed. “An honour, Your Majesty.” Turning to Maiya, he said, “Are we ready, love? I am enjoying fighting these things, but I do worry I’ll miss one.”

She grinned at him with a look that spoke of her devotion to the boy, a look she’d been giving him almost from birth. “Yes. Daddy, can you control Flùranach? Just for a minute?”

He tested his grip on her power, amazed that whatever Maiya had done effectively disabled Ewain. The elder druid slumped, a glazed look on his face. “I think so,” he said. “But why?”

Jago prowled around just inside the circle, growling at any creatures who looked as though they might dare enter. They watched him warily, staying well back.

Without warning, one broke through. Taller and more menacing than the others, he had four glowing red stones embedded between his eyes in a diamond shape. “Maiya!” Jago shouted. He lunged with his sword, but his blade glanced off the thing’s side.

“Excuse me, Daddy,” she said quickly. Within a second, she’d taken control of Flùranach’s power, brushing Munro aside as though he’d been a speck of dust. Using the faerie’s temporal flows, she slowed time. Since he was also attached to Flùranach’s flows, only the three of them stayed in motion. Maiya’s blade arced up high. She tossed the Cup of Cultus straight up. Her sword made contact with it, shattering the artefact into a burst of metal shards.

As soon as the artefact was destroyed, Maiya released time. Ewain came to life, roaring with anger. The enormous creature that had been rushing at Maiya disintegrated in a similar shower of light. A hundred bursts sounded around them as the other creatures shattered with the power of the Cup.

“A bit showy, don’t you think?” Jago said with a grin.

Maiya laughed, releasing her sword. “I like to make an effort,” she said.

Munro watched as Maiya wove her flows around both Ewain and Flùranach, binding their talents firmly. She then dusted off her tunic and ran a hand through her long white hair before looking at Munro. “You must be confused,” she said.

“A little,” he admitted.

Jago came up and took Maiya’s hand. “I told you it was time to save my mother,” he said.

“You did.” Munro stared at them both, and they turned together as someone else approached the circle.

“Over here!” Huck shouted, staggering forward. He looked haggard and drawn, his face covered with long whiskers. In his arms, he carried a very pale Demi.

“Put her on the ground,” Jago ordered Huck, who obeyed instantly. The other druid met Munro’s eyes, looking bewildered.

“We’ve been searching for you,” Munro said.

Huck nodded, but his gaze was drawn back to Demi. He looked up at Jago. “You’re Jago? Can you save her?”

“I am, and I can.” He took out a small metal disk and placed it on Demi’s chest. Munro watched as he sent a burst of blood power through it, combining his druidic talents with his faerie flows in a way Munro had never seen before. Demi sucked in her breath loudly, then coughed, wincing as if in terrible pain.

“Maiya,” Jago called.

She nodded, flicking her hand in the air as she wove a braid of power she sent toward Demi. The unconscious druid visibly relaxed. Maiya turned to Munro. “He’s the healer. I can only help with the pain.” Drawing her father aside, she said, “There’s so much I wish I could say to you.” For the first time since he’d laid eyes on his adult daughter, she looked uncertain. “But you told me not to. You made me promise.”