Caledonia Fae 04- Druid Lords (17 page)

He peered around the stone arch that led to the corridor. The pair walked ahead, and his keen hearing picked up their murmuring voices. Keeping his steps light, he followed. Words floated to his ears, but he had trouble catching everything. Interestingly, they were talking about Demi’s boy.

Eilidh stopped in the courtyard, and Aaron hovered behind a stone column. If someone walked up from the other direction, he’d look a bit odd lurking there, but the Druid Hall wasn’t exactly bustling with activity.

“I’d not expected this,” Eilidh said to Oszlár. Her brow creased into a frown.

“Children are a gift from the Mother,” Oszlár said.

“But a lethfae child? What place would a half-blood have in our society? How would that child be regarded? Not having the full magic of a faerie, but not draoidh either.”

“Or perhaps the best of both?” Oszlár said. “In millennia past, when draoidh lived and worked among us, lethfae children, although not common, did exist.”

“I’ve never heard of them,” she admitted.

“None of us had realised the draoidh had human origins until recently. Why would we think their children as anything other than fae?”

“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 any 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.