The Druids' Legacy

by Trenna McMullin

“Getting help does ‘im no good either. We have no healers powerful enough to fix a wound this terrible...Your kind are like demons, killing innocents without mercy.”

  “We do what we must to take back our freedom. Your freedom as well. If he is beyond help you should return to your village and deliver our message, then you can send him on the final journey with honor.”

  “I’m sorry lady warrior, but you can do what you like to me, I can’t leave ‘im yet.” The villager kept his eyes down as he spoke. “He’s my sister’s boy, and if I return without him—I can’t. I’ll sit with him till he passes, then I can at least give my sister news of his death and save her the pain of false hope.”

  Hallahna considered the man thoughtfully, impressed. Before she had quite thought it through, she found herself offering him aid. “We have healers. The rebels mean the villagers no harm as individuals. Let us take him with us and we can help.”

  The villager gaped at her, then suspicion entered his eyes, then desperation. “I will come with him. Please. Do what you can—” he stopped short, looking around and noting the few other survivors the Shaari had found. He turned to her, pleading in his eyes. “I could not face their families if they died while I sought care for my nephew alone.”

  “Fine, if they are near death, they can come too.” Hallahna agreed, a little annoyed at his brazen request.

  She quickly arranged for her people to help transport the boy and his uncle to camp. Of the other survivors only one seemed likely to die from his wounds, so she arranged for his transport back to camp and sent the other two back to the village with the same message she’d given the original villager. Then she followed her people back to camp, wondering how she was going to explain this to Calistra.

  * * * * *

  Ky’ara stood by the edge of the lake, cooling her feet in the water. The day had passed slowly, waiting for Calistra to contact them. Joran aimlessly cast the fishing net into the water and pulled it back, having already caught enough fish that morning to last them through the day. The prisoner had slept through the morning, and now sat with a look of confusion on her face, quietly trying to reconcile her memories of the last few days with the facts that Sukylar had presented her with concerning Vivek’s death.

  Suddenly Joran perked up. “I think she’s trying to make contact!” He dropped the net and walked a little to the left, then shook his head and walked to the right instead, coming towards Ky’ara and getting as close to the water as he could. Ky’ara nodded to Sukylar and Lauryn, who quickly ushered the prisoner away towards the edge of the trees. They’d all agreed that it wouldn’t be wise to let her overhear their conversation with Calistra.

  Ky’ara turned back to Joran. He and Taren stood nearby, watching a glowing spot just a few feet in front of them. Ky’ara could just make out an image of Calistra within the light, and her voice came through clear enough to be heard for a few feet in every direction.

  Ky’ara was struck by a strange sense that she had seen this before. She searched her memory for a minute, and then it hit her: the nymph. When the nymph at the fishing village had shown her the way to Eléirathös, one of the images had been the three of them, standing at this lake, a faint light floating over the water. Had she shown Ky’ara the future?

  They come from the Dreamworld...Time is fluid in there, Ky’ara mused. Could she use that to find out how this all would end? She could almost feel the glare Myrnai would have given her, had the woman still been living. Messing around in the Dreamworld had caused enough trouble already. Jenie, Amischel, the kids...She pushed the memory away. They might not be dead. Just because the house had been shattered into a million pieces, blackened by necromantic residue…

  “Ky’ara? Did you hear that?” Joran’s voice jolted her out of her bleak thoughts.

  “Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

  Joran rolled his eyes. “Calistra wants to know if you can transport us the way you did to get to Ainon Caseia.”

  “The few reports I’ve had from my people up north say that travel is increasingly restricted,” Calistra added, her faintly glowing image turning towards Ky’ara. “If you’re seen by anyone you risk being arrested, or getting the townspeople punished if they don’t turn you in.”

  “It’s that bad already?” Taren asked.

  “Worse, probably. We haven’t gotten reports from the cities for a long time...I haven’t heard anything about where Iregh and Keerason might be, which makes me nervous. We’ve never been able to pin down who the Destroyer is, but we’ve always kept tabs on his doings by watching those two. Anyways, I don’t have much time...I assume you found Eléirathös?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank the Light something has gone right...wait, where are Sukylar and Myrnai’s girl? I thought they would be with you”

  “They’re just keeping Norika away.”

  “Who’s Norika?” the sharp edge on Calistra’s tone made Joran gulp.

  “Erm, well...she was following us trying to kill Sukylar, so we captured her.”

  Calistra sighed. “We don’t have time right now, but I will expect a full explanation later. Ky’ara, what do you need in order to transport everyone back here? ”

  “Just show me where you are. Then I can try to get us close. I’ve only done that spell once before, and it exhausted me. I’m already exhausted now, so I’m not sure I can replicate it, but I will try.”

  Calistra had her guard fetch a map, and she pointed out where the rebels had made their main camp, then explained which of the nearby towns had been effectively recruited and which should be avoided. “We need you back here. Don’t hurt yourself trying to do the impossible, but please hurry.”

  Ky’ara nodded, and a second later the light had winked out.

  “Hopefully that didn’t just spotlight our location for any nearby Elrackon, or worse.” Taren said grimly. “Joran, go get the others. Tell them we’re leaving. We’ll find a new place to camp tonight, and Ky’ara can do the transport spell tomorrow.”

  Joran nodded and left. Taren turned to Ky’ara and looked at her searchingly. “Are you sure you should attempt this?”

  “What else can we do?” Ky’ara asked, “Travelling back to where the organization is camped would take too long and go too close to a lot of major towns.”

  Taren nodded reluctantly. “It’ll be a longer distance than last time, is all. And you’re already pretty worn-down. What happens to us if half-way through you pass out?”

  Ky’ara smiled, “I think I know my limits better than that. And I’ve had a lot more experience since then—Last time I did it with only the tiniest understanding of what exactly I was doing. I think I actually understand it now...hopefully that makes it a little easier.”

  “You really think so?” Taren asked.

  Ky’ara nodded. “You see, I’m really just creating a bridge between two places. I knew that last time, but I didn’t really know how or what that bridge was. Now I think I know—it’s the Dreamworld. When I’m there I can move anywhere in the blink of an eye. I think when I did the transportation spell I somehow connected us all to the Dreamworld and moved us through there and here at the same time, so when we left the bridge, we got to the other point physically as well.”

  “I don’t think that helped me feel better about it.” Taren looked a bit pale at the thought.

  “I think the dragons do it, if that makes a difference.”

  “Not really, though I suppose it is somewhat heartening that if we get lost in this strange quasi-Dreamworld bridge you create, maybe Irakyll has a shot at finding us.

  “We’ll be fine,” Ky’ara reassured him, wishing she felt as certain as she sounded. She took his hand and kissed him on the cheek. “Now, if we’re going to camp somewhere else tonight then we need to hurry and pack up.”

  * * * * *

  Calistra was still recovering from the effort of the communication spell when she heard a commotion just outside her tent. She stood to see what was the matter when the flap to her te
nt slapped open and a number of people poured inside, apparently arguing with each other.

  “What is it?” she asked tiredly, annoyed at the intrusion. The combination of people was an odd one. Julaine, the head of the infirmary, was there, arms folded stubbornly across her chest. She was accompanied by one of the healers, Geri, and two of Hallahna’s people.

  “The Shaari have returned from their scouting,” Geri said, pushing his way to the front, “they reported a scuffle with some soldiers just outside Hetta.”

  “Are they alright?” Calistra asked. He nodded. She sighed wearily. “Then what seems to be the problem?”

  “Apparently there were some villagers in amongst the soldiers, and they were injured.”

  “I did ask them to avoid killing locals, but I understand—”

  “They brought them back to the infirmary.”

  “And we cannot treat them without your say-so,” Julaine piped in, “I tried to tell them that, but these two insisted that they were told to bring them to us to be healed.”

  Calistra sighed, rubbing her temples. At times like these she wished General Gighu was here and not still in Ainon Caseia. He was much better at separating his duty to the organization and his compassion for human beings.

  “Care to explain?” She asked the two Shaari soldiers.

  “It was my doing,” Hallahna said, entering the tent. She must have seen the odd procession on its way over. She signaled her warriors to leave and wait outside, then continued. “They have no healer of their own, at least not one with much skill. These people, you need their loyalty, yes? Show them we have compassion.”

  “You can’t go out and injure villagers only to have us heal them—for free—the same day!” Julaine said, “Soon enough we’ll have our hands full with our own wounded.”

  “It’s just two people,” Hallahna said.

  “And soon it will be ten! Twenty! A hundred! We do this without requiring payment and soon they will all be expecting to be treated the same.”

  “I may not like it, but she’s right. Maybe not after one or two, but eventually it’ll become an expectation,” Calistra replied. “It might make them feel more friendly towards us, but I need more concrete support than that. I suppose we could ask for payment of one sort or another, maybe set up a system of bartering skills or supplies for healing…In the meantime, Julaine, take care of the patients Hallahna brought. We’ll discuss what to do in future cases later.”

  The stern-looking woman and her companion left, leaving just Geri and Hallahna in the tent with Calistra.

  “Are you really comfortable bartering the lives of innocents for supplies?” Geri asked, when they were gone. “You’ll get what you need, but they’ll hate you for it.”

  “What are we supposed to do then? Heal them all for free? We need our mages to heal our people. We just can’t afford to waste all their energy on healing villagers if we get nothing from it,” Calistra said.

  “So heal for free, and barter other magic.”

  “Hallahna, we—” Calistra started to reply angrily, then stopped, cocked her head to the side and smiled slowly. “Hallahna, you’re a genius!”

  “Won’t the mages be even more worn out then?” Geri asked skeptically.

  “Maybe, but your parents are merchants, Gerian, surely you recognize the value of something no one else has?” Calistra replied absently, shuffling through the papers on her desk till she found a useable piece.

  “But magic has been illegal for so long, most people don’t think about all the things it could do for them, other than healing. They might not see it as a useful commodity. Are you sure this is going to work?”

  “It will,” Calistra replied, rapidly scribbling down a message. “Free healing will gain us their goodwill, and give us the right to limit it to life-threatening and debilitating complaints. Then we find other things magic could help with, and offer to do them in exchange for supplies.”

  “It is a plan that will make the villager’s want you here. Rather than tolerating you only out of necessity,” Hallahna said.

  Calistra nodded, handing Geri the signed note and sending him to spread the word to the Healers. “You know, you’re the last person I expected to solve my diplomacy problem,” she told the Shaari princess with a wry smile.

  Hallahna shrugged. “Sometimes you think too hard. Simple solutions are better.”

  “I’m not sure anything about this will be simple, but I do appreciate your help. Next time, though, maybe try not to make any promises that involve using other people’s skills, at least until you’ve checked with them.” Calistra smiled to soften the reprimand.

  Hallahna nodded once, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly as she returned the smile, and left the tent.

  The sudden solitude felt like a warm embrace. Calistra sat down and pushed her papers to the side of her desk, put her head down on her arms, and let herself relax into sleep.

  * * * * *

  Finding a new campsite was proving more troublesome than Taren had anticipated. The pond was close to the edge of the forest, so anything that seemed far enough away was too exposed, but staying in the trees led them either too far east, or back the way they’d come. After discussing their options, they’d decided it was more important to get as far south as possible, so they’d headed out into the grasslands. The sun was dropping lower and lower in the sky, and they still hadn’t found a suitable place to stop for the night.

  “We may need to just pick a spot and lay down in the grass,” Sukylar said, riding up next to Taren. The Keeper grunted noncommittally, still surveying the land for someplace with more cover. He didn't like it, but Sukylar was right. There were no good options out here. Eventually, he spotted an area where the ground dipped slightly, creating enough of a hill for the grass to hide them from view on one side, though their horses would still be visible. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing. He looked at Joran to see if the boy sensed anything dangerous about the location. When Ky’ara’s Keeper nodded his approval, they stopped and set up camp.

  The next morning Ky'ara prepared herself mentally for the spell. She wasn't sure if she could quite wrap her head around it without a visual reminder of the two places, so she had her map out in front of her, their current location and the rebel camp both marked using a bit of charcoal. Last time she had mentally connected the two places using a bridge that somehow spanned the physical distance with a shorter magical tunnel. She’d shielded the whole thing to keep it from giving away their location, but with what she now suspected about the nature of the bridge itself, she didn’t think she needed to shield the entire pathway, just the entry and exit points.

  “Is everyone ready?” Ky'ara asked, "I don't want to start this until you're primed to follow me through the door."

  "Door?" Sukylar asked curiously.

  "That’s right, you and Lauryn weren't with us last time Ky'ara did this spell," Taren said, "She's going to create a portal that bridges the distance between here and where the Rebel camp is. We'll follow her through it and then exit and she'll close it up again."

  "Why didn't we do this to get out here in the first place?" Lauryn asked, "It would've saved weeks of travel."

  "It takes a great deal of effort and I don't like doing it unless I know we're close to someplace safe," Ky'ara replied. "I might have saved some time getting to the fishing village this way, but I don't know whether the Destroyer can track it or if I'm exposing our location to other mages...That didn't seem like a good risk to take. I'm only doing it now because I assume the rebels’ location is already pretty obvious—they've been encountering plenty of soldiers sent from the capital to the outer villages. I'm sure they aren't expecting to stay a secret."

  "Much as I'd like to know more about this magic trick, I think we need to just get it done and get out of here," Sukylar said, shifting his pack slightly and mounting his horse. Joran helped Norika mount in front of him, tying her bound hands to the saddle horn and reminding her not to try anythi
ng or they'd drag her behind the horse instead.

  ‘Is that really necessary?’ Ky'ara asked him, mentally rolling her eyes.

  ‘She's already tried escaping once. Are you sure having her ride with Sukylar is the best idea?’

  ‘We've been over this already, you're too small to effectively keep her in line if she does act up, and Taren doesn't want his hands to be occupied if anything untoward happens. She promised she wouldn't try anything, I believe she'll keep her word.’

  Ky'ara looking at everyone else to ensure they too were ready, then took one last look at the map before closing her eyes. She pictured the location, sent her magic across the intervening space, and constructed a pathway through the Dreamworld much as she had the last time she'd done this spell. She opened her eyes and murmured the words to open the entrance to that path. "Apertus Januae."

  The shimmering white portal opened in front of her. She mounted Angallia and rode through.

  The strange pulling feeling she remembered from last time swept through her and she braced herself for the feelings of nausea that had accompanied it. A glance backward told her that everyone was following her. Joran had come through the tunnel second, with Sukylar and the prisoner close beside him. Norika looked white as a ghost. She pressed back against Sukylar, as though feeling his solid presence would help her keep her grasp of reality. He had an arm around her waist while the other held the reins. His mouth was set in a hard line, but otherwise he seemed determined to ignore the prisoner unless absolutely necessary.

  Something flashed in her peripheral vision.

  Ky'ara looked to the left. She didn't see anything. An uneasy feeling stole over her. She was fairly certain she had felt a presence.

  It was strange being here in the space that wasn't quite the Dreamworld, but wasn't quite the real world. When she had started learning from Myrnai, and then later when she had entered death to defeat Ekzhad, she'd come to a sort of realization that the Dreamworld was the space between the physical world and death. If that was the case, it seemed like this area was a melding of the physical world and the Dreamworld, a space between the two. A space between the space between. It hurt her head just thinking about it.