Aaron sensed her resisting the habit of touching her forehead. “The law requires all azuri to shave their heads in Zalia.”
“Omi, can I shave my head too?” Jago asked Lisle. Joy and Aaron laughed, but Cen looked scandalised.
“No, little man,” Lisle said. “If you still want to when you grow up, then you can decide for yourself.”
“Why didn’t you learn English?” Jago asked. “Do you understand German?”
Joy shook her head. “Only the fae tongue. I was taken from my school when I was little. A kind woman took care of me and taught me sign language. Azuri faeries are silenced in Zalia as soon as our talents emerge, so we talk with our fingers. I lost my sight ten years ago. Since then, life has been more difficult because I cannot see the signs of others. I am grateful to be with those who can speak. My world is less empty now.” She smiled, and the pang of her loneliness echoed in Aaron’s heart.
“Omi said she’s going to find me a teacher so I can learn the fae language. Do you want to take lessons with me? You can learn English and German, and I will learn fae and how to sign.”
“Lady Joy is an adult, silly boy. She won’t want to do lessons with a child,” Lisle said. She glanced at Joy. “I’m sorry. He’s very outspoken.”
Joy signed, “I have much to learn,” she said. “I’m sure your teachers will be busy, but we can help each other sometimes.”
“My mama and Omi are blood druids and good healers,” Jago said. “I am learning, but Mama told me my magic hasn’t finished growing yet. Do you want her to fix your scars?”
“Jago!” Lisle exclaimed again.
Joy frowned. “Is that possible?”
“I don’t think so,” Lisle said. “I can only soothe minor hurts. Scars as deep as yours are beyond my skills. I’m sorry. Perhaps we should go,” she said. She stood and pulled Jago to his feet. “I do hope our visit hasn’t been distressing.”
“Don’t apologise,” Joy signed. “His kind intentions touch my heart.” She turned to Aaron and added, “Can we join them for a walk?”
“You can do anything you wish.” He kissed her hand. “Would you mind going with Lisle, Jago, and Cen alone? I need to take care of something.”
Aaron sensed a spark of curiosity in her, but no fear. “When will you return?” she asked.
“How about I meet you for dinner.” He turned to Lisle. “In an hour?”
“An hour sounds good,” Lisle said. “We can’t tour the entire Hall in so short a time, but we can make a start.”
Jago rushed over and took Joy’s hand. “Let’s go to my room first. Huck brought me some seashells from Bellesaria. Do you want to touch them?”
Joy and Aaron stood, and she let herself be dragged away by the boy. She glanced over her shoulder at Aaron, her sightless eyes pointing at him as though she could see him. He sensed a flutter of nervousness but also her welling courage. He felt proud of her. Unable to imagine the horrors she’d been through, he was amazed at her willingness to adjust.
Lisle stepped after them, chiding Jago for rushing the lady. Cen trotted after, doing a remarkably calm job of translating the boy’s babbling questions.
Aaron changed out of his robe and into his usual clothing, embarrassed that he hadn’t noticed until everyone left that he hadn’t been properly dressed. He made his way into the corridor and found the head steward downstairs. “Good evening, Hon,” he said.
The servant bowed. “How may I serve today, my lord druid?”
“Can you arrange an attendant for Lady Joy and me? I think she’ll be staying in my second bedroom, at least for a while, so one between the two of us is good enough. Jalail did well in Zalia, so he’d do if he’s available. Otherwise, anyone you have is fine.”
Hon blinked in surprise. “Of course not just anyone will serve you, my lord druid. If you are satisfied with Jalail, I will ensure he becomes available to you. Are you certain you only wish one between you?” he asked. “Ladies invariably have demanding requirements.” The steward appeared pleased by the request. The lack of formality on the part of the druids always seemed to rankle him.
“Let’s start with one. Lady Joy has been through a lot, so we don’t want to introduce too much change at once. If Jalail seems overwhelmed, we’ll add another.”
“Very good, my lord druid. We must turn away so many who wish to serve. Without doubt, I could find someone suitable for her needs.”
“Thank you. One other thing. Is Douglas in the Hall?”
“Yes. I believe he and Lord Druid Rory are in the workshop.”
“Thanks,” Aaron said and made his way toward the front of the Hall, surprised to hear Rory had already returned from London. As promised, he found the two other druids in the workshop. “Evening,” he said as he walked in.
“Heya,” Rory said. “How is Joy doing?”
“She’s settling in,” Aaron said. “How did things go with that new druid?”
“Good. His name is Sheng. He wanted to go back to Australia and take care of his affairs anyway, so he’s going to meet us in London in two weeks. It’s just as well, with Munro and all.” He glanced away.
Aaron nodded. He had to admit, he was relieved they wouldn’t be bringing another stranger in yet. They needed time to cope with the loss. “That’s probably best.”
“Any thoughts on when we’d hold the death rites?” Douglas asked.
Rory interjected, “Are we sure he’s dead?”
Aaron touched his new connection with Joy. “Eilidh says he’s dead, and I’d trust the bond.”
He paused. “Douglas, can I have a minute?”
“I was just going anyway,” Rory said. “Flùr’s not speaking to me again.” He rolled his eyes. “I’d better go make up with her.”
“If you get the chance, tell her the others are taking Joy on a tour of the Hall. Joy seems to like her, and I think she’s eager to make some friends.”
“Good idea,” Rory said and headed out. As soon as he was gone, Aaron strode up to Douglas and slapped him hard across the face.
Douglas jerked into action, shoving Aaron away. “What the hell was that for?” he shouted. He tried to break away as Aaron grabbed him by the shirt.
“You bloody arsehole,” Aaron said. “You absolute feckin’ wanker.” He released Douglas by pushing him to the other side of the room.
“What’s your problem?” Douglas yelled.
“I just bonded with Joy,” Aaron said hotly.
A look of confusion and incredulity spread across Douglas’ face. “So what?”
“So my problem,” Aaron spat, “is now I know. I understand what the bond means and what you did to him.”
Douglas’ cheeks reddened. “This has nothing to do with you.”
Aaron had to stop himself from smashing Douglas’ face. “I’m making it my business,” he said. “Your fuck up is hurting our relationship with our closest ally. Unless you don’t remember, you eejit, Caledonia is the one kingdom we didn’t need to threaten into not decimating us.” He breathed in, trying to calm himself. “You made a vow to Tràth, bound by magic. Loyalty. Love. Devotion to the point of complete servitude. Now you’ve hurt him thoroughly and deliberately. He’s done everything he can to close the bond, which could bring the Mother-only-knows-what consequences to both of you. Not to mention he’s probably signing a contract to become the Zalian prince consort just to get away from you.” The more he thought about the whole situation, the angrier he grew. He couldn’t stop himself roaring in anger. “So I want you to explain what the bloody hell is wrong with you!”
As each of his words hammered Douglas, the younger druid looked more ashamed. “I didn’t mean the things I said to him,” he said, his face red and his voice almost pleading. “I never wanted him to leave.”
“Like fuck you didn’t. I’ll never understand how you managed to fuck things up so decisively. And the lies! It’s taken all of five minutes with Joy to see you’re full of crap. I can’t believe Munro let you get away with your
bullshit.”
Douglas sunk onto a chair and buried his head in his hands. When he looked up, his eyes were bright with unshed tears. “It’s the Stone.”
“What?” Aaron didn’t understand. He had hoped to convince Douglas to admit he’d been wrong. That way, he might go talk to Tràth before Tràth married some stranger simply because he thought he had no place where he mattered. “What do you mean?” He sat across from Douglas.
The young druid wiped his eyes. “Ever since we started feeding the thing, I’ve had problems. The other day I asked Lisle, but she hasn’t noticed anything strange lately. The Stone sorta… talks to me.” He looked embarrassed. “I know I sound barmy, but I am always thinking about channelling the flows into the rock. The more time I spend at the library, the more I’ve gotten obsessed, like I can’t stop. I wanted to go see Tràth when he was back in Caledonia, but the Stone didn’t want me to. Whenever Tràth showed up here, I felt weird and angry.”
Weird and angry? Aaron paused with his mouth hanging open for a second before he sat back and tried to think. “I’ve never experienced anything like that with the Stone. I mean, yeah, it has a strong magical flow, and I feel almost high when I’m there. Is that what’s happened? Have you gotten addicted to the buzz you experience when touching it?”
“Maybe,” Douglas said, looking uncertain. “I’ve tried to stop going, to take a break for a day or two. I can’t.”
“Okay,” Aaron said, exhaling with a loud puff as he considered. “Answer one question, and be honest. Do you love Tràth?”
“Yeah,” Douglas said quietly. “The bond is like nothing else. How could I not?”
“What about this queer bullshit?”
Douglas blushed. “I wish I could take that back. I can’t believe I said those things. My head gets foggy. I think the Stone is impatient.”
“Is the problem worse since Munro died?” Aaron asked.
“Much,” Douglas admitted.
“Okay,” Aaron said. “You’re going to Zalia.”
“I am?” Douglas sounded surprised but not unhappy at the thought.
“We need to move you away from the Stone.”
“Griogair said we should avoid the portal, in case whatever killed Munro is after all druids,” Douglas said.
Aaron shrugged. “I came through fine.” He leaned forward in his seat and stared Douglas in the eye. “Honestly, fixing things with Tràth is worth the small risk. You took a magical oath, and you couldn’t have said the words if you didn’t mean them. I understand that now.”
“No, I meant the promise I made. When I said I never wanted to bond with him…” Douglas’ voice trailed off.
“Then you’re going to Zalia to tell Tràth what you just told me. Make him believe you. Do whatever it takes.”
“Why do you care so much?”
“I care because I’ve been a bit of an arsehole myself.” Aaron chuckled. “When I bonded with Joy, everything became clear in an instant. You can’t dishonour that kind of magic, mate. Whatever’s driving you and Tràth apart isn’t natural.”
Douglas frowned. “Do you think there’s a problem with the Stone?”
“Maybe,” Aaron said. “You leave that to the rest of us. We’ll work on that while you’re fixing things with Tràth. Try not to start a war with Zalia while you’re there. They’re pretty formal. Just act like a poncy lord who’s too big for his shorts, and they’ll think you’re normal.”
“What if the Stone won’t let me leave?” Douglas said, glancing away.
“I’ll send you through myself, if I have to. I think you’ll be fine once you get past the portal.”
Douglas nodded. “I hope so. The voice is getting louder. Sometimes I’d swear I hear it all the way over here in the Hall.”
“Jesus, mate. Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
Douglas shrugged. “I should have, I guess. I almost told Munro, but he was so mad about Tràth, I avoided him, and then…”
“He was gone,” Aaron finished for him. “Weird that it’s just you, me, and Rors left of the Scottish lads.”
“I was thinking the same thing. I guess we should notify Munro’s family back home. He had an auntie or something.”
“Soon,” Aaron said, “but not until Demi and Huck get back, plus I want to check with Griogair, make sure an announcement won’t make things tough for Eilidh. It wouldn’t hurt for us to talk to the Keepers and check out the Stone. Before we do anything, I’d like clearer answers about what happened. I’m finding it hard to accept, maybe because we never found his body. If Eilidh wasn’t certain, I wouldn’t believe he was dead.”
“Yeah, it sucks about Eilidh being so sick. You think she’ll be okay?”
Aaron’s thoughts turned to Joy and the pulse of her presence in his heart. He couldn’t bear to think of his soul-mate being gone now that he’d found her. “Honestly, mate, I don’t see how she can be.” He stood. “You go pack. I’m going to talk to Griogair. When I get back, I’ll take you to the portal.” He paused. “Sorry about the slap.” He extended his hand to help Douglas to his feet.
Douglas put his hand on his cheek. “Nae bother, mate. You hit like a big girl’s blouse.” He took Aaron’s hand and stood, chuckling.
The reaction was a relief. If they were going to get through these hard times, they’d need to look out for each other.
Chapter 18
Rather than trying to shape the rock with magic, Munro brought down a heavy branch until the stone cracked. He was stronger than he remembered, but pure brute force was all he had any talent for anymore. Working for what seemed like hours, he used every ounce of energy to will the flows into cleaving the stone. The rock fractured with a whip-like sound that echoed in the chill air.
Munro staggered with the effort. The stone had broken into four pieces: three larger ones and one barely fist-sized. The results weren’t elegant, but he did the best he could with the limited power he had. He dragged his foot through the soil to draw a box, one large enough for him and Ewain to stand in. Then, he placed each of the four pieces into the corners. It wasn’t Stonehenge, but at least he’d made a start.
Weariness tugged at his awareness, but he refused to give in, reminding himself he wasn’t tired. His thoughts clouded. If he didn’t get more tonic, he’d fall asleep. Using all the willpower he could muster, Munro shuffled down the path and out of the clearing. He was surprised how close they’d been to the solid, black copy of the shimmering Otherworld portal. He wondered how much Ewain knew about the druids’ work with gates. The elder druid seemed to know everything else about them. Munro still didn’t understand how.
Realising he’d been standing motionless again, Munro marshalled his resolve to push onward. He’d only taken one step down the meandering path when he heard a noise like a strangled cry. He tilted his head to listen, but the sound seemed to originate beneath his feet.
A moment of realisation and clarity came to his thoughts. Of course. The Source Stone rested directly below the portal in the Halls of Mist, so the Shadow Stone must be below this portal. But how to get there?
Ewain’s earlier words came to him. Like all things in this realm, the shadow portal is only a reflection of the real thing. Munro tried to visualising this solid, black orb to be the real portal. Where, from here, would the library entrance stand? He had difficulty orienting himself due to his clouded thoughts and the hunched black trees surrounding them, but he could figure out how far the entrance should be, at least.
There was no sun, moon, nor stars to tell him what direction he should search. The spherical portal didn’t offer any clues. With no other way to find his bearings, he stepped away from the shadow portal until he thought he had gone the same distance as the library entrance in the Halls of Mist. He saw nothing like an opening or way down, so he walked in a circle. Keeping his eyes on the portal to maintain the correct distance, he wove through the trees, struggling at times when the woods grew too dense. He’d travelled nearly three quarters of the way before h
e found an ominous sinkhole in the ground a few feet further out.
Munro crouched down to examine the cavity. He’d never suffered from claustrophobia, but he didn’t relish the idea of burying himself alive in the narrow passage. Then he stopped and laughed, a peculiar, hollow sound. He couldn’t bury himself alive. He was already dead. With any luck, he’d never have to get used to that fact.
The cleft in the ground was slightly wider than his waist and filled with a tangle of dark roots. Still, he had to try. If the hole went nowhere, Ewain might never find him. The thought sent a shiver down his lifeless body. Determined to make an effort, Munro got to his knees and began to crawl, following the narrow cavity deeper and deeper down.
Fighting the urge to rest, Munro dragged himself on his belly, using rocks or tree roots to move along a path he felt certain no one had travelled in a long time. This couldn’t be the way Ewain had gone. Munro couldn’t imagine the stiff old druid worming through the earth.
Still, he had to either move forward or go back, and he was determined to travel as deep as the Shadow Stone should be. The real Source Stone was at least three full flights of stairs below the portal, and although tracking time proved difficult, he’d not yet gone far enough.
Finally, after what felt like hours, the tunnel widened, and he tumbled into a bleak cave. Dark water trickled down the walls in rivulets. The general shape of the cavern was a precise copy of the library foyer. Buoyed by the discovery, he willed his heavy body to carry him further. He closed his eyes and envisioned the library’s layout. When he got his bearings, he pressed on, following the route by memory from one cave into the next, stepping down a rough stone path. He knew immediately when he arrived at the right place. Unlike the other rooms, this chamber looked almost exactly like the one that housed the Source Stone, even down to the runes on the wall.
The Shadow Stone was elevated in the centre of the room, and Ewain sat with his hands on the surface as the druids did when they used its Otherworld counterpart. The elder druid turned his eyes to Munro. “I told you to wait.”
Caledonia Fae 05 - Elder Druid Page 20