The Druids' Legacy

by Trenna McMullin

  Iregh opened his mouth to protest, then closed it and nodded, spreading his hands. "Ok, it was wrong of me. I was selfish. I am selfish. If you hate me so much for it, why are you here?"

  Lauryn hesitated, looking like she wanted to either slap him or run from the room. Instead, she raised her chin stubbornly and looked him right in the eye, putting every ounce of defiance she could muster into her gaze. "I had to ask you...to find out once and for all. Why did you leave us?"

  Iregh shifted uncomfortably under her piercing stare. "I told your friends already—Il’esandra gave me the opportunity to study and perform magic without worrying about getting arrested, didn't they tell you?"

  Lauryn nodded. Joran had told her already, but somehow hearing it secondhand wasn't good enough. "Tell me what happened...I want to hear it from you."

  Iregh shrugged. "I was on a trip to the capital, picking up some things we couldn't get in the market at home. You were just a child, but you made me a 'charm' to keep me safe on the road..." He hesitated, as though fighting with himself over something, then pulled out a little tattered piece of knotted cloth tucked into his sleeve. Lauryn covered her mouth with a hand, feeling all her walls breaking down. She had a fuzzy memory of taking a scrap from an old dress to make the bauble for him. He still had it, did that mean...?

  Iregh shrugged and tucked the piece back away. "I was at a book stall, gleaning through items for anything on magic—though of course such a book would have been confiscated if the authorities had seen it—but I was hopeful that perhaps one had been overlooked. Il’esandra passed by and she caught me glancing at her. I could sense something magnificent and dark and powerful in her and it confused me…”

  He trailed off, apparently caught in the memory of that first meeting. A moment later he shook himself out of it and shrugged as though it was unimportant. “She approached me later and offered me access to the palace library, indicating that she knew of some secret volumes of magical lore unknown to anyone alive. My curiosity was piqued, of course, but I was afraid it was a trap of some kind, set up by the authorities to find mages who chafed against the restrictions. She finally convinced me by demonstrating some magic of her own, and then later she offered me immunity from the authorities and the chance to study more magic, if I did some work for her.”

  The far-off look had returned to his eyes, and Lauryn felt a surge of irrational jealousy. She squashed it. She didn’t care. She shouldn’t care...why did it hurt so much, that he’d chosen magic over being with his child? She hadn’t known him well enough when he left to really miss him. Still, the excitement in his voice as he continued grated on her.

  “It was more than I had ever dared to hope for! Magic was my passion, and being limited by the restrictions of the law and the small-mindedness of our neighbors...well, it was an easy choice. Your mother had never understood my obsession—telling her would've just started another argument and put you both in danger. Besides, Il’esandra wanted an answer then or never, and she is not the kind of person you say no to."

  Lauryn took a deep breath, pulling herself together. "So you chose magic over us. Was it everything you hoped it would be?" some of the bitterness she felt snuck into her question. Her father hesitated again, glancing at Calistra subtly as though considering how she might use this information against him.

  "For a while, yes. I learned more from those books and my free reign to practice than I could have in a hundred years on my own. Keerason was her errand-boy and I was only required to step in when magical interference was needed...it was better than eking out a living as a small town healer or farmer, that's for certain."

  Lauryn felt a jolt of pain despite her attempts at apathy. She turned away. "That's enough. I get it. Thank you for being honest.” She looked at Calistra. “We can go now."

  Calistra nodded calmly and unsealed the door. Iregh narrowed his eyes and watched them leave. As soon as she was through the door Lauryn broke and ran, startling Joran as she whipped past him and nearly tripping over the tent post on her way out. Calistra turned for a last look at the prisoner before she sealed the door again. He met her gaze with a carefully apathetic expression, but beneath his calm exterior she could sense hostility. Lauryn's visit had upset him more than he was willing to admit.

  * * * * *

  The ride back to the main camp took longer than their desperate race out to the town had. Ky'ara had been reluctant to leave, but all of her things were back in her tent, and desperate as she was to go after Taren, she recognized that she would need more than her sword to do so. Joran was torn between worrying about her and worrying about Lauryn. He watched the latter from the corner of his eye, trying to decide what to say. It was evident she'd been crying again. Talking to her father hadn't seemed to help put her emotional turmoil to rest. If anything, it had made things worse.

  "You can stop staring at me, I'm not about to break into pieces you know," Lauryn said suddenly, giving him an irritable look.

  "I know," Joran protested, forcing his eyes to look forward.

  Lauryn snorted. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?"

  Joran glanced over at her again. "I'm just trying to figure out how I can help you. I know it's none of my business, but believe me, I know what it's like to discover that you don't know someone as well as you thought you did..."

  "I never even knew him at all," Lauryn said softly, "I was five, five! when he disappeared. At that age kids all think their parents are the whole world...I didn't even have a clue he would turn out to be so...so..."

  "So infuriating?" Joran supplied, "Manipulative? Conceited? Corrupt?"

  "You really hate him, don't you?"

  Joran shrugged. "I did...but now...I don't know. He seems so...ordinary."

  "Myrnai always talked about the banality of evil...I guess I didn't realize she meant that people who do terrible things aren't always malicious...they can act totally normal...they just don't care about anyone but themselves."

  "Except he kept your charm...that seems to say he still cares about you," Joran murmured. Calistra had told him about what had happened, right after Lauryn had run out.

  "It would be easier if he didn't," Lauryn said, her voice little more than a pained whisper.

  They rode in silence for a while, not sure how to break the bleak mood that had settled over them.

  "Tell me about him," Lauryn said finally.

  Joran looked at her in surprise. "What do you mean?"

  "Tell me about the terrible things he's done. The information you know about his work for the Destroyer, and how you found it out. I need to know who he really is—something besides the memories of a five year old or the angry assumptions of a broken…” she trailed off, then whispered, “I just want the truth."

  She looked at him with such desperation that he couldn't find it in him to refuse. So Joran told her. He described his first days with the organization, after his parents had been killed. How his sister had known who Keerason was because he had been connected with a number of other tragedies, how in most cases his appearance was followed shortly thereafter by a lanky, balding man and an unfortunate "accident" or sudden illness. How later, A'kiina had investigated several incidents in the capital and discovered that a man called Iregh was always involved in some way: several children of a politician suffocating to death inside their bedroom while everyone else slept, a pretty young maid who'd been involved with a council member suddenly going mad and eventually killing herself, an old man being found tangled and broken behind the house of his grandchildren when someone had refused to do what Keerason had asked. Lauryn grew more and more quiet the longer he talked. Finally, Joran stopped speaking and reached out to grab her hand.

  "I'm sorry. I can't imagine trying to reconcile those things with your memories of him..."

  "I thought he was a terrible person because he left us..." she trailed off, looking at Joran with sad eyes, "Apparently that was nowhere near the worst thing he's done. How could someone who would do those things...
why would he hold onto a childhood knickknack?"

  "Because he loves you still. Despite everything, despite his inability to do anything that doesn't serve his own immediate needs and desires...he loves you enough to hold onto the memory of his little girl." Joran said, startling himself with the depth of his understanding. His connection with Ky'ara was starting to give him a better awareness and comprehension of emotions in general. He was sure his assessment was right.

  Lauryn closed her eyes in pain. "I don't know how to feel about that. I've wanted my whole life to know that my parents still love me...but now? I don't want anything to do with him. I want to hate him, but somehow...a little part of me just can't."

  Joran nodded his understanding. He gave her hand a squeeze and hoped that somehow, just knowing he was there for her would help.

  * * * * *

  The main camp was still in chaos. Calistra sent runners out to let the people know their town was secure. The refugees could start moving back into their homes tomorrow if they chose, and the rebels would help repair and rebuild the damaged parts of the city. Cleanup should be done by then...though the stench of blood was likely to linger until the next rain could wash it away.

  This victory had been costly, and the time it would take to repair the city would push back the timeline of the invasion, but Calistra hoped that they would gain more from it than they had lost. The people had to have seen that the rebels treated them better than their own government. Hopefully that would be enough to persuade them to fight for a better future.

  "How are you holding up?"

  "What?" Calistra looked up at the sound of her brother's voice, having become so preoccupied she'd forgotten he was there.

  "You're tired and completely worn out. Are you going to be ok or do you want me to go get Jenie to take care of you?" Joran asked.

  Calistra smiled faintly, "You've really grown up, you know that? First taking care of Ky'ara, then Lauryn, now me...you don't need to worry about everyone you know."

  "It's a family trait," Joran said wryly, giving her a sidelong glance. She punched him in the arm and shooed him away. "Well go take care of Ky'ara for now...she looked a little too calm when she left for her tent. I don't want her to do anything stupid."

  Joran nodded, saluting snarkily and leaving to do as she'd asked. She watched him for a moment, feeling a little swelling of pride for how he’d turned out. Maybe there was hope for them after all.

  * * * * *

  Ky’ara didn’t know what to do with herself. Her soul was screaming at her to go after the men who had taken Taren. She could create a path through the Dreamworld, get ahead of them....and what? Collapse mid-fight and get yourself captured too? She’d had the same argument with herself all day. She wasn’t strong enough to rescue Taren by herself, but if she took others with her, she likely would not have the strength to return by the same means and they’d all just be stranded in the middle of enemy territory. Even if a rescue attempt was successful, it probably wouldn’t remain that way for long...they’d be surrounded and captured again before they could possibly make it back to safety. She smashed her fist against the wall in frustration, only to feel the canvas move harmlessly out and back into place.

  “That didn’t really help anything, did it?” Joran asked. To his credit, he kept a completely straight face. Ky’ara shook her head, feeling foolish. She needed to stop lashing out at things, but Taren was gone, and the tension she felt inside seemed ready to pull her apart if it didn’t find an outlet.

  “What am I going to do, Joran? If it was me, he’d be after them in a heartbeat. You know he would.”

  “And he’d track them and still not find you for weeks, and by then who knows where you’d be or whether he’d have any chance of rescuing you?”

  "It's the principle of it. How can I just leave him at the mercy of the Destroyer for weeks—months even—just because I won't put myself in harm’s way? How would he feel, knowing I didn't even try to go after him?" Ky'ara's voice broke a little at the end, despite her attempts to keep it under control.

  "He would be glad you kept yourself safe so you could figure out how to defeat the Destroyer."

  "He can't be glad of anything if he's dead," Ky'ara whispered, feeling the pressure inside her twist in on itself till it seemed like her heart was being strangled by her ribs. She drew a shuddering breath, letting it out slowly to help her control the hysteria she felt looming.

  Joran's expression changed to one of sympathy. "If they were going to kill him, they would have done it here rather than dragging him through a magical portal or however that shadow-path thing works. He's alive, and we'll find a way to get him back."

  Ky'ara said nothing, silently willing herself to believe him. She needed to shift her focus. If she just accepted the fact that going after him was not an option, she could start figuring out what she was going to do instead.

  * * * * *

  The next few days were spent helping the townspeople repair the damage from the attack and move back into their homes. Ky’ara’s magical talents were put to use wherever she was needed: cleansing the stench of blood from the streets, determining who was responsible for vandalism and theft that had occurred under the cover of the attack, providing light so that repairs could continue into the night. There was little time for self-pity and even less for considering rescue attempts. Calistra had probably planned it that way: by the time Ky’ara climbed into her cot at night, she was too exhausted to dwell on things.

  After three days of working nonstop, Ky'ara felt like screaming. She had tried throwing herself into the work, but everything around her just reminded her that something important was missing. It was even worse now that they were moving the main camp to the other side of the town. Calistra had spoken to the village elders and suggested moving closer to the town so they were better able to protect the villagers in the event of a second attack. The elders had compromised by allowing them to move their camp to the northeast side of the town, where they would act as a buffer against any incoming armies. It exposed the rebels more than Calistra would have liked, but also seemed to indicate that the town was willing to at least accept the rebels’ protection, if not their rule.

  Ky'ara looked down at the crate she was loading with all of the things from her tent. It was nearly full. All of her personal belongings were already stowed safely in her pack and saddlebags. In a few moments she would have to start on Taren's things from the tent next door. Joran had offered to do the painful task but Ky'ara had refused...it might hurt to load up all his things, knowing that he wasn't there to do it himself, but it was also the only connection she had to him right now. She left her crate outside the tent where it would be picked up by the men in charge of loading the wagons, and reluctantly started to pack up Taren's belongings. His cot was neatly made. He hadn't even had a chance to sleep in it the night of the attack.

  As she folded his blanket, it kicked up a lingering scent of pine and metal and something indescribable, but that was distinctly Taren's own. The smell brought a lump to her throat and Ky'ara fought down tears as she safely stowed it in a crate. She picked up his small pillow and hugged it to herself, breathing in his scent and struggling not to break down.

  She put down the pillow and turned to Taren's pack. There was nothing else to add to it. He had few personal belongings. There really wasn’t much he cared about keeping, other than his weapons, which he'd had on him at the time of his capture...they’d probably been taken from him and disposed of along the way. Or claimed as souvenirs by the soldier’s who’d taken him…Ky'ara couldn't stand it any longer. She threw the pack over her shoulder and rushed back to her own tent, intending to grab her own pack and make her way to the stables. So what if she couldn't defeat the Destroyer? She could use magic to find the men who had taken him and open a portal to take herself there. She'd have the element of surprise, and just maybe she could free him long enough to give them a chance to escape...

  "What in the Light do you think you're
doing?"

  Calistra's voice cut across her thoughts like a hot knife, startling her midstride as she made her way to the door.

  Ky’ara took a deep breath. "I can't stay here. I'm going after him."

  "Told you she was frantic," Joran stepped into the tent behind his sister, looking both worried and smug at the same time. Ky'ara shot him a dirty look. Of course he'd run tattling to his sister the instant he'd felt her emotions change. Traitor. She turned to Calistra, her eyes pleading.

  "I can't do this anymore, Calistra. I can't just run around cleaning and working and helping with silly little repairs while Taren suffers!"

  "You have to keep yourself safe, Ky'ara. I know it hurts, but I can't just let you go tearing off on a harebrained rescue mission and end up dead! We need you! You're the crystal bearer, you—"

  "I still don't even know what that means!" Ky'ara exploded. "I've played along, I've researched, and done what that stupid book told me to...and it still hasn't actually led anywhere! We don't know how to stop the Destroyer for good, and we're no closer to knowing how to actually use the crystal than we were when A'kiina first gave me the cursed thing!"

  "We may not know specifics, but we know enough to know that you are essential to winning this...You have to put the needs of the many ahead of your own feelings...and if you won't, I'll do it for you. You are not to leave this camp, is that understood?" Calistra's voice was firm, but her eyes held pity.

  Ky'ara met her gaze defiantly. "I don't have to take orders from you. I don't care about the rest of the world."

  "You don't mean that," Joran said, his eyes flicking to Calistra's shocked expression, "She doesn't mean that. She's just upset."

  "I've already waited too long," Ky'ara said, ignoring him, "I'm going after Taren...don't try to stop me."