Azuri Fae - Urban Fantasy (Caledonia Fae)

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Azuri Fae - Urban Fantasy (Caledonia Fae) Page 15

by India Drummond


  Munro wanted to laugh. He didn’t doubt for a minute that Oron would rather boot the prince in favour of the druids if he could get away with it.

  Galen, a sour elder who had never liked Eilidh, and therefore by extension Munro, spoke up. “The house of my sister Beniss, may the Father of the Azure cradle her soul in his bosom, still stands empty. It should serve the druids well. I’m afraid it may need attention, but I can have it stocked and prepared within an hour.”

  At first Munro wasn’t sure why she would make such an offer, considering she held Eilidh responsible for Beniss’ death, but then he realised she, and most others, would do just about anything to get more of a chance with one of the druids. Such a bonding would allow them full access to the Ways of Earth, something they could never dream of touching beyond a faint trickle of power.

  “That’s very generous of you, Galen,” Oron said. “Munro?”

  Munro turned to the others, who nodded. “Sure,” he said to Oron. “That sounds great.”

  “While you and your friends are getting settled for the day, I will have a word with Lady Eilidh.” He gave Eilidh a meaningful look. To the room, he announced, “Thus concludes the conclave.”

  Eilidh went to the elder without even glancing back at Munro. Maybe, he thought, it was better if he stayed at Beniss’ place after all. He didn’t know what had happened between him and Eilidh all of a sudden. Things had blown up, gone wrong for no reason. At least he could sense her again, even if it was a more subdued connection than before. But if he knew anything about her, it was that pushing never did any good.

  * * *

  True to her word, Galen had Beniss’ house prepared, and everything the druids might need was provided: beds, food, and some privacy. The only additions they could wish for would be a telly and maybe a games console. The others were restless, and Munro thought they could use something to keep distracted while they processed their new situation. They’d learned a lot in just a few hours and been exposed to a world they only caught a glimpse of before.

  “What now?” Phillip looked at Munro as they sat in the front room. Phillip seemed a quiet type, but he was the one the group trusted.

  “To be honest,” Munro began, “I’m not sure how all this should work. When I met Eilidh, I felt something right away. I could sense some spark between us, even before we bonded.”

  Aaron laughed. “Or it could be you noticed those legs of hers. Crikey, she’s hot.” When Munro shot him a look, Aaron added, “Sorry, mate, but she is.”

  The others joined in with a chuckle, nodding that they agreed with Aaron.

  “Did you feel anything with one of the elders? Something tugging or…” Munro’s voice trailed off. He didn’t even know how this was supposed to work. They all shook their heads.

  “That’s okay,” Munro said. “There are hundreds of faeries here, and you’ll get a chance to meet them all eventually. It might take some time. I really don’t know. But we’ll figure it out.”

  “What if we don’t ever feel it with any of them?” Rory was stocky, had flaming ginger hair and narrow eyes. He was the happy-go-lucky one of the group, but now his face furrowed with worry. “I mean, I don’t have all that much keeping me in Perth, you know?”

  “Afraid you’ll be the last one without a date to the dance?” Aaron asked with a smirk.

  Phillip grinned. “Wouldn’t be the first time. Would it, Rors?”

  The ribbing was good-natured, but Munro could tell they all felt some anxiety about the many unknowns. “I’ll talk to Oron,” he said, “but I’m sure we can all stay as long as we want, no matter what. I’ve heard there are lots of new faeries here, ones that follow the Path of Stars, and more will be coming all the time. I don’t see them sending away anyone who wants to stay.”

  Douglas weighed in. “I could get used to this. Free food, free house, being treated like a rock star. Did you see some of those women? Yeah, I’m in.” He was the youngest of the group, only just out of high school the year before. He talked big, but Douglas had taken the events of last summer the hardest. Munro was glad he’d come. The only one who hadn’t shown up was Jay, and Munro couldn’t say he was sorry about that. He suspected Jay had more than a small hand in the deaths last year, although he couldn’t prove it.

  “First thing,” Munro said, “is you’ll have to get used to being awake all night. They sleep at various times during the day, but some barely sleep at all. Anything official though, that’s always at night. I think it’ll get easier once you’re bonded. I know it seems a lot more natural for me now.”

  “I didn’t like to say anything,” Phillip said slowly, “but how long before you started looking like that? Or is that one of Eilidh’s illusions to hide your normal ugly mug?” The others chuckled at the joke.

  Without thinking, Munro put his hand up to one ear, reassuring himself that he hadn’t grown a full, spiralling twist. “Not until I visited the Otherworld.” Now that Griogair had spilled the beans about his and Eilidh’s involvement in finding his son, Munro could tell them about his venture beyond the human realm. “Everything changed: my speed, endurance, my eyesight. I don’t really know what happened.”

  “When do we get to go there?” Rory asked.

  “Not for a while,” Munro said. “If ever. You heard them. There’s a war brewing.” He told the druids more about the political situation, about the Halls of Mist and his one and only encounter with the Caledonian queen. “Let’s do one thing at a time. Today, get some rest. Sleep if you can. Eat if you want. Their food is different, but pretty good. You’ll get used to it fast. I’ll have to come and go. I’ve got to check in with work in the morning, and I promised Griogair I’d help him find his son.”

  “You mean you’re still on with the polis?” Rory asked. “Looking like Link?”

  “Who?” Munro asked, and the others laughed.

  It was Phillip who explained. “Didn’t you ever play Legend of Zelda as a kid? You know, Link? The elven guy who saves the princess?”

  “He wasn’t elven. Technically, Link was Hylian,” Rory corrected him.

  Aaron chuckled. “Only you would know that, Rors.”

  Munro laughed too, but he’d wondered about the changes, thinking he should ask one of the elders how far it would go and what to expect. It would get harder for him to keep up his normal life if he got more deeply involved here, not to mention that his eyes glowed in the dark. On the other hand, Eilidh didn’t want him around, and the guys seemed fine with the new environment. He had every confidence they’d know if they met someone they could bond with. So it was really up to him what he should do next. Maybe he could go on as he had, splitting time between the two places. In some ways, it was good he had the job holding him in Perth. It provided him an excuse to get away and breathe from time to time.

  “Munro,” Phillip said.

  When Munro looked up, he realised that while he’d been lost in thought, the others had stopped talking. They all stared at the wall behind him. He turned and saw Prince Griogair standing in the doorway, looking pale and drawn.

  Munro scrambled to his feet. “Your Highness,” he said. He didn’t much like being formal, but he figured he’d better set a decent example for the others.

  Griogair looked shaken. Hollow. “She’s going to kill my son.”

  “Come sit down,” Munro said, offering Griogair his own seat. “Rory, will you get the prince some water? There should be cups or something in the kitchen.” He pointed toward an open doorway.

  “Sure,” Rory said.

  Munro went into cop mode. “Let’s start at the beginning. Did Mira bring a message?”

  Rory came back with a wooden cup filled with water, and Munro handed it to the prince, who looked at the cup, slightly puzzled.

  “Drink,” Munro said. “It’ll help.” He didn’t know why, but just the action of taking a sip of water was often enough to snap people out of a shock. It gave them something to do, something to concentrate on.

  The pri
nce did as instructed, and Phillip whispered, “Eilidh’s here.”

  Munro turned for a second and saw her in the back of the room, looking on with a worried expression that matched the unrest Munro sensed in her emotional state. Focusing on the prince, Munro said, “Mira’s message. What did she come to tell you?”

  “She’d been bound,” Griogair said.

  Munro turned to Eilidh with a raised eyebrow. She explained. “Mira had been stripped of her magic. Severed from the Ways of Earth.”

  Munro could tell it pained her to think about it. His eyes back on the prince, he said, “Griogair, I need you to focus. For Tràth. What was Mira’s message?”

  “Cadhla has ordered a fifth of her personal guard, the rafta, to pass through the Ashdawn gate. They’re the best, and their orders are to find Tràth.” Griogair stared at Munro, his violet eyes dark and unblinking. “To find him and kill him.”

  The other druids sat back, mystified. Munro frowned. “She would kill her own son?”

  “She knows where I am, so she’s smart enough to know I’d tell the Higher Conclave about Tràth. Yes, she’d rather see him dead than have people know she’d given birth to a child gifted with the Path of Stars. You don’t understand the depth of the prejudice amongst my people.”

  “No,” Munro said. “I do.” He’d seen how Eilidh was condemned to death not because she’d done what they called casting the stars, but because she was merely able to. If she hadn’t discovered this then-hidden colony on Skye, she would have lived her entire existence running from the kingdom, always feeling the executioner’s axe hanging over her head. “Do they know where Tràth is?”

  “If they don’t, they soon will. Their talents in the Ways of Earth are unparalleled. The earth itself will tell them where his foot tread. The wind will carry his scent.”

  Munro grumbled to himself. Why couldn’t they have talents like that on their side? Suddenly he realised they did. Griogair could help track his son. Munro wasn’t wild about the unpredictability of counting on someone personally involved in an investigation, but he had little choice. He told Griogair what he was thinking.

  “I will help in whatever way I can,” the prince said. “Just show me the way.”

  “No,” Eilidh said. “It’s too dangerous. There are many gates between here and Ashdawn, and every inch of the borderlands could be filled with ten times the usual number of Watchers. Your Highness, she knows where you are and what you’ll want to do. You cannot sacrifice yourself for Tràth. Think of the kingdom. It needs you to stay alive.”

  Munro stood his ground. “I don’t know if I can find Tràth without his help. We don’t even understand what happened to him.”

  “Too bad none of us is bonded to his son,” Aaron said. “We could lead you right to him.”

  Munro stared for a moment.

  “What?” Aaron said. “I was just thinking out loud.” Then he muttered, “Sorry.”

  “No, he’s right. All of you have to come with us,” Munro said to the other druids. “If there’s even a remote chance one of you can bond with him, it would be worth it. If you are compatible, you’d be able to feel it right away. It might induce him to trust us. We didn’t have a lot of luck with that last time we encountered him.” He paused. “What we need is a plan.”

  “What are his powers exactly?” Phillip asked. “It might help us figure out what he would do, if we understand what he could do.”

  Munro looked at Griogair. “What can you tell us about your son’s abilities?”

  “It’s hard to explain, really. We always discouraged him from practising. His mother…” He hesitated. “I can barely bring myself to call her that after what she’s done.” His tone was tight and angry. “Cadhla sought help in restricting the forbidden flows. She called in a few experts, but only people she trusted implicitly, and that list is short.”

  “What were the signs?” Eilidh asked, stepping forward and sitting beside Griogair. “When I was a girl, I would cast illusions without thinking, influence my teachers to change their minds, let me off my lessons. Did Tràth do things like that?”

  Griogair shook his head. “No, it was very different with him.”

  Eilidh sighed. “He must be of the blood then,” she said.

  Munro explained the distinction to the other druids. “There are only two remaining types of azuri or higher magic, astral, like Oron’s people have, and blood.”

  “Like Cridhe,” Douglas said quietly.

  Munro nodded.

  “And you think Tràth is like Cridhe?” The young druid’s voice was tight with fear. Cridhe had nearly killed them all.

  Munro looked at Eilidh. “What would be the early signs?”

  “Oron says the simplest manifestations of the blood shadows would all have to do with control of the physical form. He might be able to stop an animal’s heart if he had a dark nature, but he might also be able to heal it. He could possibly change his eye colour, his hair or skin colour, but unlike the illusions of the astral flows, they would be real, physical changes. His senses would be keener at the very least.”

  Griogair shook his head. “No, nothing like that. It’s hard to explain. He was a difficult child.” He seemed apologetic.

  Phillip turned to Eilidh. “Munro said there were two remaining types of azuri magic. Were there others?”

  “Yes,” she said slowly. “Millenia ago, but the talents died out. They no longer exist.”

  “What were they?” he pressed.

  “One was called spirit or soul magic. Like blood magic, it was often used for dark purposes. There were many practices that taint our history. The resurrection of the dead to a half-life, the enslavement of others. Even among the azuri, those who wielded those flows were feared and even shunned. The other lost art was temporal.”

  “Temporal?” Rory asked.

  “Time,” she said. “This form was the most rare. It was said that—”

  “Time,” Griogair interupted. “That’s it.”

  “Your Highness,” she said softly, “that’s not possible. No one can wield temporal flows anymore. No one even remembers how the power worked. There are only the vaguest references to it in any of our surviving documents.”

  Griogair looked up, excited. “He would sometimes be reported in two places at once. He would claim he’d been away for days, when it had only been minutes. Other times he would disappear for a week, but insist he’d not gone anywhere at all. I always thought he was lying to annoy his mother, but now, looking back, it seems obvious.”

  Munro turned to Eilidh. “What does this mean?”

  She stood. “It means that Tràth must be protected, no matter the cost.” She looked down at Griogair, who still seemed shaken, although his expression at least now seemed determined and hopeful. “I’ll get Oron. We need a plan.”

  Chapter 15

  It took some convincing for Oron and the others to agree the druids should follow Eilidh, Griogair, and Munro to Auchterarder. Every member of the Higher Conclave wanted the first shot at the druids, and none were crazy about the idea of a druid bonding with Griogair’s son. He might be talented with azuri magic, but he was untrained, and more importantly, he wasn’t one of them. Eilidh had given Oron the bad news that none of the druids felt a connection with any of the elders. He sighed, clearly disappointed, but agreed that one who could feel temporal flows must be saved.

  The two faeries rode with Munro in his car. They wanted to run, but even with their incredible speed and strength, the journey would take too long on foot. The other druids rode together and would wait in Perth until Munro called them from his mobile, telling them it was safe to approach Auchterarder.

  Munro insisted they play a part, but Eilidh wasn’t so sure. To her, they seemed like any other human men. They were decent, she supposed, but they didn’t seem special like Munro. She knew it was the bond talking, but perhaps something more as well.

  They drove to Munro’s house in Perth and ran from there to Auchterarder, thinki
ng it best to make a cautious approach. It would also give the faeries time to recover from the drive. Neither had an easy time with the confinement in a vehicle, and their discomfort made Munro uneasy driving. Taking a few minutes to breathe the fresh air would do them all good.

  As they closed the last couple of miles to Auchterarder, she felt Munro close behind, heard his heavy footsteps in the darkness. They’d had to take a slightly circuitous route to avoid the kingdom gates and patrolling Watchers. Yet between her use of mental misdirection and confusion when they did encounter a patrol, and Griogair’s connection with water and stone telling him if any were near, they’d managed to carve a path that hadn’t taken too much extra time.

 

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