Caledonia Fae 04- Druid Lords (3 page)

“Come kiss me, Jago,” Demi said with a tender smile. “Then it’s off to bed. Omi shouldn’t let you stay up so late.”

Her grandmother stood when Jago toddled over to Demi. The boy planted a wet kiss on Demi’s face and giggled.

“Maybe,” Omi said, “Mama shouldn’t have been out so late.”

Demi picked Jago up. A healthy size at four years old, he was almost too big for her to carry up the stairs, but she loved to hold him. A flash of protective worry went through her, but she tried her best to push the feeling aside. She had close to two years before he would be old enough for school. “Mama had to go look for a job,” Demi said in a playful voice to Jago, although she directed her words at her grandmother.

“I like it best when you stay with me, Mama,” Jago said and yawned.

“Me too,” she replied with a grin. “Come on. Bed time.”

He laid his head on her shoulder with a contented sigh and fell asleep before they reached the upstairs bedroom he shared with his Omi. Demi kissed his forehead and tucked the blankets around him, then watched him sleep for a moment. Finally, she tore herself away to face her grandmother’s predictable questioning.

When Demi went back to the living room, she found her grandmother peering into the street below. “Who is that man?” she asked.

Demi’s heart filled with dread. She followed the older woman’s gaze to a dark corner. The figure in the shadows barely moved. If she hadn’t known he was there, she might have missed him altogether. “I met him at the coffee shop where I applied for the job. He must have followed me here.”

“Is he—”

“No,” Demi interrupted. “He’s an artist.”

“He may be working for Ulric.”

Demi shuddered. She hated even the sound of that name. “He was selling his work to the owner. He wasn't there for me.”

Her grandmother turned sharp eyes on Demi. “He’s here for you now.” Her tone held a warning. “You have to get rid of him.”

“He’ll go away on his own. He’s only a man.” Demi hoped she spoke the truth.

“Think of Jago,” her grandmother insisted.

“I do,” Demi said impatiently. “Every moment of every day.” Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “He’s only a man.”

∞

Munro waited for the queens to gather, keeping back so as not to call too much attention to himself. That was not an easy task, because even after well over a year in the Otherworld, he and his druid comrades still caused a stir wherever they went. At least this time, the queens were too occupied with watching the blue portal to bother about him.

The queens arrived with their usual entourages, but quickly everyone except the queen herself and one or two others would make their way beyond the courtyard to their kingdom’s Hall. Still, before long, the large courtyard felt crowded, and the keepers had not even surfaced from the chamber below. The queens didn't speak to one another, and most maintained an icy and calm appearance. Occasionally, Munro would catch one giving another a furtive glance. Clearly, something worried them.

After an hour, Munro wandered to the library entrance and took the downward spiralling stairs two at a time. Several keepers gathered in the back of the large entrance hall, and they glanced up when he entered. Their grim expressions, however, prevented him from approaching. He didn't see Oszlár, the head keeper with whom he worked the most. Of course, any of the keepers would have been happy to lend assistance to one of the druids. When it came to matters of important advice, however, they always referred him to Oszlár. Not wanting to talk to anyone else, Munro left.

Impatience bit at him. It might take several hours before all the queens arrived. Eilidh would likely have been at the castle at Canton Dreich. Even if she left immediately, the distance would require some time to cross. Faeries didn't use machinery or animals for transportation. Of course, they could run many times faster than a human. They also had more stamina and considered contraptions a human crutch, used to make up for the lesser race’s lack of magical abilities.

Munro made his way through the crowd of waiting royals, wondering why they didn't wait in their Halls. Perhaps, he considered, they hoped one of the new arrivals would have more information. On a whim, Munro turned and walked over on the same bridges that led away from the courtyard and towards the grand Halls beyond. Beneath the thin bridges, thick fog roiled far below. The Source Stone emanated magic so strong, it created a mist that obscured the view of the gaping void under his feet.

He approached the open gates to the Druid Hall and looked up. He had a difficult time explaining to Eilidh why he wanted to live here instead of with her in Caledonia. He knew his choice disappointed her, but the decision felt right. Even with the discomfort of not having her near, he belonged here.

With help volunteered by many faeries from all over the kingdoms, they’d built their Hall in a surprisingly short time. The structure was more of a village than a single building, constructed to house hundreds. Cooks, gardeners, servants, and attendants all served the Druid Hall. Scholars lived in a special wing created for their use. When the druids would give them time, they’d question the humans, trying to scrutinise the unusual magic the men possessed, tracking its changes and development. This study included the bonding process druids could engage in with one faerie during their lifetime.

The architecture of the Druid Hall was an odd combination of fae design, modern influence, and ancient, moss-covered Scottish castles. Much of the place was still unfinished, and unlike the faeries, the druids did not have claim on any of the human realm, so this was their only domain. At least it was theirs. Except for the small amount they’d begun to grow in a small, rear garden, their food came from tributes from all the kingdoms, and the keepers had arranged for them to be supplied with anything they needed. The various kingdoms each tried to outdo the others with their generosity.

Although Eilidh had wanted the druids to stay within the influence of Caledonia, Munro was looking further to the future. As much as he wanted to give her anything she might desire, for the druids’ sake, they should be affiliated with as many kingdoms as possible, to spread their web of influence as far as they could. They were building the foundation of a new society, one much bigger than him and Eilidh.

He worked his way through the gateway and beyond the wide, open garden at the front. He found Rory in the immense room they called their workshop. The ginger-haired druid sat at a rough-hewn table, bending over a carved wooden block and shaping it with his magical flows. He didn't notice Munro at first, but after a few moments, he came out of his trance.

A wide grin broke out across his face when he saw Munro. “Hey,” he said. “How’re things going at the library?”

Munro was glad Rory appeared so content and engrossed in his work. He'd been through quite a trauma not too long ago, one that left him wounded and angry for some time. As a result of his injuries, Rory would never be able to bond with another faerie. Munro didn’t want to contemplate what that would be like. His bond with Eilidh shaped so much of what he had become. But Rory's bond had been stolen from him by a young faerie named Flùranach. He had, in essence, become her slave, unable even to disagree with her, having to force himself to pretend to be happy, even about what had been done to him. Flùranach had been young, and she had been through a magical accident that left her unstable. Eventually, Munro had convinced her to release Rory, but not before the damage had been done.

Although Rory no longer suffered from the forced bond, the ordeal left deep scars. Flùranach had not been seen since. As far as everyone knew, she had fled to the human realm. Munro sometimes wondered where she’d gone. She’d once been like family to him. The idea of her, lost and alone on the streets of some human city, bothered him. Despite what she’d done, he hoped she was safe and well.

“What's up?” Rory asked.

Munro opened his mouth to answer when he heard Eilidh's voice behind him. “Quinton,” she said, and Munro turned to her. “I received your call. I need to return to the courtyard to wait with the others. Will the druids be joining us?”

Munro turned to her. “What's going on? I know the gates are shifting, but what does that mean?”

Eilidh glanced over her shoulder, back towards the courtyard in the distance. “Our kingdoms do not intersect.” Worry creased her brow, and her silver-green eyes swam with her concerns.

Munro frowned, puzzled. He knew each of the faerie kingdoms did not border each other, but only connected at the borderlands and here in the Halls of Mist. “I know that.”

“Rarely, the gates shift from one queen’s control to another. New kingdoms can be formed. Old kingdoms may die. Any of our kingdoms might be affected.”

“What might cause such a thing?” Munro asked.

She shrugged, but her gesture did not disguise her anxiety. “Many things. Sometimes, but not always, the gates shift when a queen dies.”

“You’ve had no word of a queen dying, have you?”

She shook her head. “No, but if this is the case, the event would be recent. This is one of the reasons we attend so eagerly. That and to determine if our own kingdom is at risk.”

Rory interjected, “Wouldn't a dead queen’s heir take the throne?”

Eilidh nodded. “Usually. Even when we deposed Cadhla, the gates accepted the will of the conclave and the Caledonian people and did not shift to another, but passed into my control. The artefact is a source of ancient magic none of us understands. In truth, I'm surprised the Stone accepted me.” She set her mouth into a grim line. “It may even now reject me, if my kingdom has grown too weak to thrive.”

“Are you saying the Source Stone chooses faerie queens?”

“Of course not,” she said. “Griogair is waiting for me at the courtyard. By tradition, only the keepers and royal families are present when the Stone reveals its new pattern, but no one would deny your right to attend.” Her voice had an almost imperceptible quaver. Through their bond, Munro sensed her nervousness.

Griogair was Eilidh’s husband, and he had become Munro’s friend. When she and Munro married in a month’s time, she would be the only living faerie queen with two mates. The tradition of polyandry, he had learned, had once been common, but she would be the first in well over a millennia to resurrect the practice.

“Of course we'll come.” Munro lifted an eyebrow in Rory’s direction.

The other druid nodded in agreement. “Aaron is upstairs. Douglas is away with Tràth, as usual. Huck hasn't come back from his trip to Ashkyne yet. He may still be gone for a day or two. You know how he is.”

Munro nodded. The new American druid hadn’t settled in quite as easily as the others and often made trips through various kingdoms to visit the human realm. He always came back, though, and Munro believed he would eventually view the Otherworld as home. “Get Aaron?” he asked Rory. “I'll meet you there.”

Turning to Eilidh, Munro asked, “Did Tràth come with you and Griogair?” The youngest druid, Douglas, had bonded with Griogair’s son, Tràth, making them the only other bonded pair besides Munro and Eilidh.

“No,” she said. “I haven’t seen them for weeks.”

Munro took Eilidh’s hand. Her fingers trembled in his grasp. He kissed them lightly, happy he could make such simple gestures openly. They’d had to spend the first six months of his time in the Otherworld hiding their relationship. Now that the druids had status in the faerie realm, Munro was able to claim his place by Eilidh’s side.

A rush of gratitude came through their bond and warmed Munro. Eilidh appeared strong and resolute, but inwardly, she quaked, terrified she would soon be deposed. Munro didn’t pretend to understand. How could an artefact determine who was queen? Why would it turn against her, and what would happen if it did?

As though sensing his disquiet, she said, “The Stone has not awoken for many hundreds of years, since long before my birth. Usually, we are left to our own choices.”

“What happened last time?”

She frowned, her silver eyes swirling with dismay. “An entire kingdom disappeared.”

Huck needed advice. He couldn’t stand outside this woman’s house all night without risking the police being called. So, sometime before midnight, he headed towards the Ashkyne-controlled gates just over the German borders. Fortunately, his enhanced speed, strength, and endurance allowed him to make the seventy-five mile journey in a fraction of the time a normal human would need. Otherworld gates were always located in the countryside, far away from human habitation. He’d tried to map them out, but because he relied on the patience of the faerie queens who controlled them, finishing the project would require some time.

Unlike the
familiar gates in Scotland, the ones in the Ashkynen borderlands were positioned farther apart, spanning several European countries. He’d travelled through one and ended up in Romania. This western German gate was as close as he’d dare go to Queen Vinye’s territory, which included England, Wales, and part of Northern France and Belgium. Because of some conflict she had with Queen Eilidh before he came to the Otherworld, Vinye was all but openly hostile to the druids.

As he raced through the countryside to the wooded copse where the Ashkyne gate stood, Huck's thoughts centred on the woman he had encountered. Considering every nuance of her appearance, her reactions, every flick of her eyes, his instincts told him she was different, special. She’d read his runes, without a doubt. Normally, he would have pursued the puzzle alone, but he had less experience and perhaps lesser talents than the other druids. Unlike them, he’d never touched the Source Stone. He hated to admit it, but he needed help.