Heart of the Druid Laird

by Barbara Longley

“You’re asking me what’s wrong? Niall just told me Sidney and Dermot are lost.” She sobbed into his shirt and struggled to get hold of herself. “I haven’t heard from you in three days, and I’ve been worried sick. I…I’ve missed you so much.” She sniffed. “Oh, babe, you really need a shower.”

  Thomas rested his chin on the top of her head. “I’m sorry I haven’t called. Things have gone all to hell.”

  “What’s this about the Mists of Avalon?”

  “I’m no’ sure where to start.”

  “From the beginning.” Zoe disentangled herself and wiped her eyes with her hands. She took a seat on one of the stools set by the table.

  Thomas raked his fingers through his hair, making it stand up even more. “Áine stole Sidney. We figure she’s keeping her in the faerie realm until the anniversary of Mairéad’s murder has passed, and we have no hope of ending the curse.”

  She sucked in a huge breath. “She won’t hurt Sidney, will she?”

  Thomas shook his head. “I wouldn’t guarantee her safety.”

  “Oh, God! What’re we going to do?”

  “I haven’t a clue.” He gestured toward the table. “That’s why I’ve been searching for answers in these books. Dermot and I spent a whole day going through them to find Áine’s personal domain. We found it. Lachlan and I took him to an old cairn on the top of a hill about an hour’s drive up the coast from here. Dermot did his trance thing, left his body behind and entered the faerie realm to get Sidney back.” He stopped before her, his brow furrowed. “It’s a chilling sight to behold when a man’s spirit leaves his body, lass.”

  “No doubt.” A shiver sluiced through her.

  “We waited all night on that bloody hill in the bitter cold, hoping Dermot would return with Sidney.” He shook his head. “Early this morning his body disappeared right before our eyes. One minute he was there, and the next he wasn’t.” He turned his anguished gaze to her. “We wasted hours waiting for him to reappear. He didn’t, so we came back home. I’ve been in this room ever since. Lachlan took the truck back to the spot where Dermot vanished. If something changes, he’ll call.”

  “So, what are you doing in here?” Zoe surveyed the room. Drying herbs hung from a rack above the granite table where they sat. Shelves full of books lined the walls, and great art hung on the walls. “How are dried herbs and fine art going to help?”

  “I was hoping to find something that would at least point me in the right direction.”

  “Donald said you’re trying to give yourself a crash course in magic.”

  He nodded.

  “Is that even possible?” She shook her head. “You’re on the verge of collapse. When’s the last time you ate?”

  “I do no’ recall.”

  “Shower, have something to eat, then sleep. Maybe something will come to you once you’re rested.” She hopped off the stool. “The men are downstairs shouting at each other. Not very productive if you ask me.” She took his hand. “Why not tell them to carry on as if Dermot were still here? At least they’d keep busy.”

  “Nay, lass. I’m no’ leaving this room until I find something useful.” Thomas strode back to the table and flipped open one of the books.

  “Can you even think straight right now?”

  He scrubbed his face with both hands. “Dermot wouldn’t quit. He’d keep looking, for days if he had to, without food or sleep.”

  Zoe put her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his back. “You need a break. I know you’ll be able to figure something out once you’ve had some rest.”

  “Dermot has sacrificed so much for us. He never wanted to be laird. I never realized it until…” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “He and I came to blows a few days ago.” Thomas turned to draw her into his arms.

  “Why?”

  “Old resentments. I would no’ have made a good laird. I know that now.”

  “Oh, Thomas, don’t you realize how much Dermot needs you? He wouldn’t be a good laird either if it weren’t for you. You keep him grounded.”

  “Woman, you’ve no idea how glad I am you’re here.” He rocked her back and forth. “And angry at the same time. It’s no’ safe. If Áine is desperate enough to take Sidney and Dermot, what will she do if she finds out about you and me? She hates all of us, no’ just Dermot, otherwise he’d be the only one cursed.”

  “I couldn’t stay away. I need to be with you.” Zoe stared into his eyes. “Won’t you please take a few hours off? For me? I promise to help. We’ll figure something out together.”

  “Nay, lass.”

  “Fine.” Zoe walked over to the opposite side of the table and took a seat. “Tell me what we’re looking for”

  “Zoe…”

  “Don’t even think about arguing with me.” She drew one of the books toward her and slammed it open. “Shit.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “This…isn’t…English,” she sobbed. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

  “It’s old Gaelic.” Thomas walked over and pulled her off the stool into his arms. “If you want to help, go sort out the lads. And if you wouldn’t mind, find me something to eat and brew a pot of coffee. God, I’ve missed you.”

  Dermot’s head throbbed, and with each beat of his heart the agony increased. Shutting his eyes against the bright glare of the sun, he fought the nausea twisting his insides. Soft grass cushioned the ground beneath his aching body. The scents of an evergreen forest permeated the warm air. Where was he?

  “Though it is long since last we laid eyes upon you in my court, Diarmad Macaoidth, I do not regret your absence. Every time you visit, trouble follows.”

  He forced his eyes open and stared up into Dagda Mór’s iridescent blue gaze. “Begging your pardon, Your Majesty, but I canna be held responsible for Áine’s actions.” Dermot tried without success to rise. “Forgive me if I do no’ show you proper obeisance. I’ve no’ the energy left to move my body, nor the will.”

  “You will be tended to.” The king glided away from him to sit upon a throne of intricately carved oak.

  Grief sliced through Dermot’s heart. “Sidney…”

  “Is recovering,” Dagda Mór said. “I have seen to her myself. The mortal will rest, as will you, and then the three of us shall talk.”

  “She lives?” Dermot’s throat tightened, and his eyes stung with relief and hope.

  “Think you I would let her perish?” Dagda Mór glared at Dermot. “Though the vessel is altered, the essence is the same. She is my granddaughter still and spirit kin. It is she who cried out to me for help.”

  Gods, she’d done it. Tears of relief filled his eyes. “Áine—”

  “My daughter is confined for the time being. You need not concern yourself.”

  “How long have I been out? What day is it? The curse…the anniversary of Mairéad’s murder…” Dermot struggled to sit up, surveying the area as he did. They were in a clearing surrounded by thick forest. Though he sensed the presence of others nearby, he and the king were alone. “My men are depending upon me to end the curse.”

  “Do you forget who set the conditions for your release?” Dagda Mór’s eyebrows rose. “Time bends to my will, Druid, as do you.” He gave a slight wave of his hand. “Sleep.”

  A heaviness crept over Dermot’s body, and he fought to remain awake. He’d given his word to his men. The need to see Sidney for himself overwhelmed him. “Please, Your Majesty, let me see Sidney first…I need to…”

  “In time, Druid.”

  He lost the battle and fell headlong into an enchanted slumber.

  Dermot awoke in a bed, aware that someone moved about inside the chamber with him. Sidney? It took a few seconds to remember where he was. Disappointment crushed him. He needed to see her before he could believe she was alive and well.

  “I’ve prepared a bath for you, my lord, and I’ve brought fresh garments.” A young man wearing the garb of a servant came to stand by him. He gestured toward a chair where the clothing had been draped. “There is t
o be a feast. You must ready yourself. I am called Rhyn. If you need anything, I shall attend you.”

  “How long have I been sleeping?” Dermot stretched, testing his muscles. He couldn’t deny feeling refreshed. His stomach rumbled with hunger, and instantly a tray with cheese, bread and fruit appeared on the nightstand.

  Rhyn smiled. “Your notion of time has no relevance here. I know not how to measure its passing in human terms. A year perhaps—” he shrugged, “—or a few moments. I will leave you to your ablutions. When you are finished, I shall escort you to the feast.” He bowed and disappeared.

  “Bloody fae,” Dermot muttered under his breath and reached for a hunk of bread and a piece of cheese. He threw the covers off and rose, shoving the food into his mouth. Who had removed his clothing? Best not think on it overmuch. He moved through the sparsely furnished chamber toward the door Rhyn had pointed out. There he found the bath and everything he needed to make himself presentable by Tuatha standards. Dermot bathed, shaved and dressed. Rhyn appeared the second he’d finished.

  “Has it occurred to you to knock and wait for an answer before entering?”

  “That is not our custom. We do not receive guests of your ilk here, and I apologize if I’ve offended or upset you.” With a wry smile, Rhyn indicated the door. “Please, follow me.”

  The door opened into a cloister facing a paved courtyard. Long tables had been set in the center. Well-dressed Tuatha Dé Danann milled about, visiting in groups and sipping from silver goblets. Dermot heard familiar laughter. His heart skipped a beat. Searching through the crowd, he found her. Sidney stood in a circle of men paying her far too much attention for Dermot’s comfort. Dressed in a long flowing gown belted at the waist, she looked like a goddess. Relief and joy washed through him so fiercely he couldn’t breathe.

  “My lord, if I might be so bold.” Rhyn laid a hand on his arm. “The mortal woman’s presence has caused quite a stir. Several of our nobles have petitioned the king to keep her here indefinitely.”

  Dermot scowled. “He will no’ grant their request, will he?”

  “Áine’s actions have put Dagda Mór in a bind.” Rhyn shrugged. “We cannot reproduce within our own race. The only way we can have children is by—”

  “What has that to do with Sidney?”

  “She’s human. I would think the ramifications are obvious.” He shook his head sadly. “It has been far too long since we’ve heard the laughter of children in our realm.”

  “Are your people no’ free to seek lovers elsewhere?” The thought of Sidney being used as a broodmare turned him inside out.

  “The women are free to leave. The men are not. Once a daughter of the goddess Danu conceives, she bonds irrevocably with the babe’s sire. As long as our king prohibits the women from bringing their human mates home, they refuse to conceive. It is a battle of wills that has lasted eons.”

  “And your men? Why do they no’ take lovers?”

  “None outside of our own kind visit here anymore. The elves used to, but they have their own problems and never did like sharing their women.” He sighed. “Where human women are concerned, our males are lusty and promiscuous. They seldom share the same woman’s bed long enough to find they’ve sired a child. Dagda Mór cannot tolerate the idea of a large population of halflings creating havoc in your world. That is why he will not allow the men to leave.”

  “Gods,” Dermot muttered.

  “Exactly.” Rhyn nodded. “If Dagda Mór does not grant their request, it could cause an insurrection. If he wishes to avoid bloodshed, his options are few. Keep the mortal woman here, allow humans into our realm or let the men leave.”

  “How am I to get Sidney free of this place?”

  “I cannot say.” Rhyn gave him a sympathetic look. “I meant only to warn you to tread carefully. The undercurrents are treacherous.”

  “When are they not with your kind?” His gaze strayed back to Sidney. Seeing her surrounded by so many men had him reaching for the sword that should have been at his side.

  “It will do you no good, my lord. Any of the males standing with your woman can send you back into an enchanted sleep, and only the Tuatha who puts you there can wake you. It’s best you keep your feelings well hidden.”

  “Shite.” Dermot rubbed his temples. Music announced the king’s arrival, and all those assembled bowed low.

  The moment Sidney saw Dermot enter the courtyard, she wanted to run away and hide so she could lick her wounds in private. His betrayal made her ache inside, and looking at him brought tears to her eyes. Instead, she threw up her defenses, nurtured her anger and suppressed the hurt. She laughed at the inane conversation going on around her. The men gave her odd looks. She had no idea what had just been said.

  Music announced Dagda Mór’s arrival. She’d spent the past few weeks trying to talk the king into letting her and Dermot end the damned curse so she could go home. Dagda Mór put her off, telling her Dermot needed to recover from his ordeal first. Recover from his ordeal? What for? So he could turn to dust while in the peak of health?

  Her palms started to sweat, and her stomach flipped. What if the king placed her next to Dermot. Or worse, what if he didn’t?

  “Please.” Dagda Mór gestured toward the table. “Come. Sit. It is time to welcome our newest guest.” His voice filled the courtyard. “Sidney, I would have you on my right. Diarmad, you will sit beside her.”

  Sidney took her place and tried hard to breathe. Dermot leaned close, sending shivers down her spine.

  “We need to talk,” he whispered.

  “I’m not sure I want to talk to you,” Sidney answered for all to hear.

  Servers moved around the table, filling wine goblets and placing plates filled with roasted fowl, vegetables and bread before each guest. She couldn’t eat. Hoisting the goblet, she emptied the contents in a few swallows and held it up for a refill. She’d take courage in any form tonight.

  “Go easy, lass. We need our wits about us.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” she hissed. “You lied to me, and we have nothing more to talk about.” Her eyes stung. Sidney turned away and blinked the tears back.

  “I’m sorry. I meant to tell you everything the day you were taken.”

  “I’m sure you did,” she snapped. “Sidney, I want you. I’m going to make you mine,” she mimicked. “Oh, by the way, did I mention I only have two weeks left to live?”

  “Áine’s actions have taken any choice I may have had out of my hands.” Dermot grasped her arm. “We must talk, and soon. You’ve no idea what’s going on here.”

  “Oh, don’t I?” She glared at him. “While you’ve been getting your beauty rest, I’ve been fending for myself in this Pit-of-the-Fae soap opera. Let me tell you what’s going on. The women resent me. The men look at me like I’m some kind of Pez dispenser for their faerie babies, and their king can’t decide what the hell to do about us. Don’t tell me I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “I was forced to sleep.” Dermot gazed around the table, and lowered his voice. “How long have we been here?”

  Sidney glanced at the king out of the corner of her eye. Dagda Mór appeared to be deep in conversation with the woman to his left, but she knew he was listening. Why else put her next to Dermot? “It’s been weeks. You’ve been asleep for weeks,” she whispered. “See that man across the table six down from us? The one who’s scowling your way.” She shuddered in revulsion. “He and several others have demanded that the king keep me here indefinitely to—”

  “I ken the reasons well enough.”

  Her goblet refilled, Sidney sucked the contents down and held it up again. She already felt the effects and welcomed the fuzzy-headedness dulling her pain. None of the options being considered by the fae court benefited her in the least. What if Dagda Mór caved to the demands of his male subjects? She’d never see her family or friends again, and Dermot was already lost to her no matter what.

  She pinched Dermot’s arm. “What have I done
to deserve this crapfest?”

  Dermot took her hand, squeezing it hard. “Ease up on the wine.”

  “You know what?” She snatched her hand back just as a servant refilled her goblet. “You’re no better than Áine. You both manipulated me, and you both lied. Only for different reasons. Were you afraid if you told me you were gonna die in two weeks you wouldn’t get laid?” She huffed in disgust. “Seems to me the truth would’ve been a great ploy for pity sex.”

  A hush descended around the table as the fae watched them in fascinated silence. “Speaking of Áine—” Sidney turned toward Dagda Mór, “—your daughter is seriously lacking a moral compass, Your Highness.”

  Dagda Mór’s jaw clenched, and Sidney’s stomach knotted. Still, she couldn’t seem to stop the train-wreck spewing out of her mouth. It had all been too much. Any minute now she was going to humiliate herself by crying in front of the entire party. Her nerves were shredded, and her anger could no longer be contained. Gulping more wine, Sidney tried to find an upside. Ah, yes. The more she annoyed Dagda Mór, the less likely he’d be to keep her around.

  “Hush,” Dermot hissed, his eyes darting to Dagda Mór.

  “Hush?” she hissed back. “What for?” She lifted her goblet and gestured toward the seated guests. “Everyone present already knows the whole sad story, right?” She stared at the fae seated at the table in challenge. “In a nutshell, Dermot’s been fucking me, and Áine tried to kill me.” She cupped her hand around her mouth and stage-whispered, “It’s against their laws to kill humans. Did you know that?”

  She nodded toward Dagda Mór. “The king here sent his daughter to her room without any supper.” She snorted at her own joke. “The years have not been kind to Áine have they, Your Highness? I hate to say it, but she has become one petty, vindictive, selfish bitch.”

  A collective gasp rose from around the table as Dagda Mór stood with his arms upraised. He glowed and crackled with electric blue light, fixing her and Dermot in his ice-blue glare. The courtyard shimmered and shifted. The edges faded to black.

  Dermot groaned beside her and dropped his face into his hands. Sidney leaned close to snarl into his ear while she still could. “See? I do know what’s going on. You’re not the only one who can twist people into doing what you want them to do. Now Dagda Mór has no choice but to kick us out of his realm as fast as he can. We can get this whole damned curse thing over with, and I can go home. This is what you paid me for, what you manipulated me into.” Her heart shattered into a million pieces. “Your curse will end. You, Thomas and the rest of your men will turn to dust. You should be thanking me.”