Caledonia Fae 04- Druid Lords (5 page)

Before Eilidh could answer, the crowd parted in front of her and the two princes made their way through. The elder, Vinye’s mate, stood back while his son strode up to Eilidh. “Your Majesty,” the younger man said, falling to his knees, looking pale and shaken. “I pledge fealty to Caledonia and beg your mercy on my house.” He glanced up. “If you will not spare my life, at least spare my father, who shares no blood with my mother, who was your enemy.”

Eilidh stood in silence, staring down at the young prince whose head was bowed low. She glanced around in disbelief, then glanced again at the stone portal. It quivered, as though ready to name another if she rejected the boy’s loyalty.

“You and your family have nothing to fear from me if you had nothing to do with the murder of my people.”

Huck awaited his answer as eagerly as everyone else in the crowd. Everyone present knew well that Vinye had plotted to destabilise Caledonia last year, and her plot included ordering mass murder, which she attempted to blame on Eilidh.

Prince Koen looked up, still kneeling, and met Eilidh’s eyes. “I swear I had no part in that monstrous plot. It shames me to the core. I would give my life to undo the horror my mother visited upon our race.”

“Then you will find shelter in Caledonia.”

His father spoke up, his voice shaking slightly. “And what form will this shelter take? Will you offer my son to mate with a faerie of your own bloodline?”

Eilidh hesitated. “I have no sisters, nor female cousins. I am my mother’s only daughter, as she was her mother’s only daughter.”

Much to Huck’s surprise, Konstanze swept forward, her eyes gleaming. Eilidh’s rune appearing on the disk must have been as much of a shock to her as to Eilidh. “I will give refuge to you, Prince Koen. And you will find shelter in my bloodline. You will become the mate of my sister’s daughter.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, the disk began to turn, and the glow behind Eilidh’s rune dimmed. She watched the artefact in horror. “No,” she said. “Koen has pledged his loyalty to Caledonia, and I will offer the shelter of my bloodline.” The runestone growled, and the light behind her sigil did not dim further. “I will take Koen as my mate, third to Prince Griogair and Druid Lord Quinton Munro.”

Munro didn’t speak, but his jaw flexed as he ground his teeth.

Prince Koen paused and licked his lips nervously. “Although we are most grateful to Queen Konstanze for her offer of haven in this difficult time, I humbly accept your offer, Queen Eilidh.”

With a growling shift of the stone, Eilidh’s rune once again shone at the top of the disk. The other symbols shifted, leaving no sign Vinye’s sigil had ever existed. With a quiet whishing sound, the stone dissolved into darkness, which then burst into a glow. The blue portal retuned, blazing brighter than before.

The prince rose and stood aside, he and his father both keeping their heads bowed to Eilidh.

“Prince Estobar, how did Queen Vinye die?” Eilidh asked.

The dead queen’s consort shifted uncomfortably. “The circumstances are unclear, Your Majesty, as her body was discovered only half a night ago. We believe the kingdom Watchers were acting at the direction of certain members of the Andenan conclave, but I have no proof of this.”

Eilidh frowned, then nodded. She signalled to her entourage. The crowd parted, and with a glance towards Munro, she stepped towards the portal, crossing through first, followed by her mate Griogair. Last of all were the two Andenan princes, Koen and his father.

“What does this mean?” Huck asked Munro, who stayed rooted in his place.

“It means Eilidh is growing more powerful,” he replied, his mouth set into a grim line.

“Will she really marry this guy?”

Munro looked at him. “Eilidh will do what she has to for her people, as she’s always done.” Without another word, he turned and broke through the murmuring crowd, many of whom appeared anxious to return to their own kingdoms. Munro headed towards the Druid Hall, and the other druids followed.

For the first time since he stepped through the portal, Huck remembered why he’d returned, and the mysterious woman he’d followed through the streets of Amsterdam.

Flùranach adjusted the hood covering her face and her distinctive, flowing red hair as the queens dispersed. Her gaze travelled to the furthest bridge over the mists, a bridge only recently created.

She didn’t like the Halls of Mist, this strange, in-between land
with no sun or moon, no connection to the human realm, no earth but that which was brought in from the faerie kingdoms.

Flùranach grew up in the human realm, born in exile when azuri talents were still punishable by death in any kingdom. She had planned to return there after she released Rory from his false bond, but she’d not been able to take the final step through the gate. Shame burned within her at the memory of what she’d done. She blinked to keep tears from flowing freely.

The crowd had vanished through the portals or to the Halls. Flùranach stood alone and unnoticed at the back of the courtyard, near the library entrance. She stared towards the Druid Hall. Rory. Aaron. Douglas. Munro. Huck. She’d only met Huck once, on the day she found him and unlocked his druidic talents, but she observed him closely today. She felt his druid magic stirring, less developed than the others, but strong. In addition to the astral powers she was born with and the voice of time that stayed with her ever since her encounter with the void, she possessed an affinity for druids. She sensed their powers, even when they themselves did not recognise what they were. No other living faerie was known to possess her ability. Other faeries could only touch those with whom they would be a compatible match for bonding. If not for her, they never would have discovered Huck. Despite her achievements and talents, her crimes forced her to stay hidden.

Flùranach took a deep breath. She was about to turn towards the library entrance when a voice spoke to her from behind. “You shouldn’t dwell on the druids,” Oszlár said. “It’s not time for you to approach them yet, child. Focus instead on your own development.”

“Not dwell on them?” she repeated softly. “He is in my heart, day and night. I cannot forget. He looked good today. Healthy and strong. He is healing well.”

Oszlár’s voice became sterner. “The deepest wounds are not visible to the eye, child. Come inside. You took too great a risk venturing out today. I shall build a cell for you if you find you cannot control your impulses.”

Flùranach shook her head and turned to the ancient keeper, the oldest fae alive and the wisest of them. “That will not be necessary, keeper.”

He nodded without smiling. “I worry for you. Rory is healing, but are you?”

She wiped away a tear and turned to go down into the library complex. “I will heal when Rory forgives me,” she said.

Before he let her go, Oszlár put a hand gently on her arm. “No, child. You will heal when you forgive yourself.”

“Do you have time to read with me today? Or shall I ask Dumvwere?” She couldn’t face the painful truths Oszlár so often wanted to talk about. Over the months she’d hidden among the keepers, she’d found it easy to change the subject. Oszlár was persistent, but not unkind.

“I must go to Caledonia to offer my assistance and counsel to Queen Eilidh. It is traditional, but I imagine her joint conclave will have her ears buzzing with advice for many weeks if not months to come.” He paused. “Do you like reading with Dumvwere?”

A
young scholar, Dumvwere was handsome and, unusually for a faerie, had a quirky sense of humour and laughed openly. No doubt Oszlár hoped Flùranach would find him attractive. The old faerie thought she obsessed over the druids, especially Rory. He didn’t understand the magic compelling her to stay close to them or the deep connection she’d shared with Rory for a brief time. It didn’t matter how the bond came about or that she’d severed the connection. Rory would forever be part of her.

“Yes,” she said with a smile. “He’s very patient. Good journey to you, keeper.” She moved towards the long, spiral stair leading down to the library. This time, Oszlár did not try to stop her.

∞

Rory followed the others to the Druid Hall, but his thoughts stayed in the square. He’d felt Flùranach’s presence, much like he might notice a familiar scent. That particular vibration in his soul wasn’t the sort of thing he would forget or fail to recognise. What would she have been doing at the Halls of Mist? As he walked away, the notion faded. By the time they reached their Hall, he wondered if he’d imagined the sensation.

Flùranach is gone
, he told himself. He wondered where she’d been, as he so often did. Was she still alive? As soon as he voiced the question, he dismissed it, certain he would be aware if she died. Now that some time had passed, he found himself more kindly disposed towards her. Six months ago, he swore he’d never forgive her for stealing his bond, marring him magically so he could never bond with another. She’d trapped him in the kind of slavery no man would like to contemplate. He hadn’t even been able to disagree with her without horrific pain.

Once, he’d been so attracted to her, but then she’d betrayed his trust and everything changed. On the other hand…

“Rors?” Aaron said.

Rory looked up, startled to realise he’d stopped walking and just stood in the doorway, staring into space. “What? Oh, sorry.” He shook his head as though trying to clear the cobwebs. This happened more often than he cared to admit. Yes, the deep anger had vanished and even the sadness and depression he’d experienced for a while after Flùranach left, but he wasn’t the same. He felt distant from the others. No matter how they tried, they could never understand what he’d lost, especially Aaron and Huck, who’d never bonded.

“You okay?” Aaron was the one Rory had known the longest, the one who years before had introduced him to the faerie who unlocked his powers, and the one who tried the hardest to keep Rory from retreating into his own shell.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about today.” Not that he’d tell any of them he thought he’d sensed Flùranach. They’d get worried all over again, think he was going ‘round the bend.

“Never saw that coming,” Aaron said. “So Eilidh now controls all the gates from Scotland, Ireland, Wales, and England?”

Munro nodded. “Not just that. Iceland, the Faroe Islands, the Isle of Man, Guernsey, Jersey, and the northwest quadrant of France and most of Belgium.” He frowned, his dark mood creeping out from him like a black fog.

“As if she didn’t have enough going on with the wedding coming up,” Aaron said. “Now she’s got a kingdom doubling in size, if not more, overnight.”

“But this is a good thing, right?” Huck asked. He sat on the low, fae-made settee in the back of the room and kicked off his shoes. “It’s a helluva lot better than if Vinye took over her kingdom, which is what Eilidh thought would happen.”

They looked to Munro, but he stayed silent.

Aaron broke the awkward silence. “Eilidh always worries. You know her. She’s a better queen than all the others put together, but she’s insecure because she’s so young. This will have to boost her confidence.”

“Or scare the crap out of her,” Rory said, leaning against the entry archway. “It sure would scare me. She had trouble believing she had a grip on things after the mess last year. Now she’s got twice the responsibilities and a new fiancé she’s never met before. That can’t be easy.” Munro twitched at the mention of Prince Koen. Rory was surprised he seemed so upset, considering he hadn’t minded that Eilidh also married Griogair, but the three of them had a strange and complicated relationship.

“I’ve got to go,” Munro said. “I’ll be in Caledonia for a while.”

“Wait,” Huck said with a sudden note of urgency. “I need to talk to you before you leave. Can you spare a few minutes?”

Munro stopped and raised an eyebrow. Huck never asked for help. He was the independent type, so much so that the others never saw him half the time.

“I was just coming back from Amsterdam to talk to all of you. I know everything is a mess, but I think this is important.”

“Sure,” Munro said.

That was like him, Rory thought. He would always put his own stuff aside to help someone else, especially one of the other druids. Even though Aaron had been around the longest, over time, Munro had become the real leader. Even the queens sensed it because he was the one they deferred to the most, the one they looked to for decisions.

“I met this woman,” Huck began, staring down at his hands.

Aaron broke into a smile. “Aw, our little Hucky has a girl.”

“Not like that,” Huck said quickly, then paused. “She’s different…like
we’re
different. She read one of my runes. I think she might be a druid.”

Munro sat back down, his own problems immediately shifted to the side. “Tell me from the beginning.” Rory joined them as well, careful not to fall out of the fae-made swing chair. He still hadn’t gotten used to the bloody things.

Huck reluctantly came clean about selling his druidic talismans at a few out-of-the-way shops in Scotland, Switzerland, Ireland and the Netherlands. Munro frowned but didn’t interrupt. Huck went on, describing how he’d met the woman, the way she read his rune and then ran when she realised he’d seen what she did.