The Last Druid

by Colleen Montague

  He followed her all the way until they reached the front gate to her house. She paused there to look around. As her eyes fell in his direction he ducked behind the nearest bush; the road was too open here, with very little shadow for him to hide in. Cautiously he peered through the tangled branches. She was still at the gate staring in his direction but stood tense, alert. She must have sensed that someone—or at least something—was following her.

  Gods, he thought, his heart racing, she saw me. He ducked even lower behind his leafy shield, straining to keep his eyes on her.

  The girl stared around that way for several minutes, until she finally shrugged it off and opened the gate. He felt himself relax as he watched her head up the walkway; his fears had been proven wrong—she hadn’t seen him after all. He slowly straightened up, turning his head to follow her as she made her way up the front walk. He stepped out from his hiding place just in time to see her disappear inside the house. He hesitated. Should he follow her up or could he wait until the next day to humor his curiosity? He debated for several minutes and then without much other thought he ran towards the house, leaping over the bordering hedge in one unbroken motion and scurrying over to crouch by one of the brightly-lit windows just to the left of the door.

  He would have reached his thoughts out through the house, probing every room to find the girl’s energy when he stopped abruptly. There was something wrong here, severely out of place against the cool, calm serenity of the evening. He stared up at the open window. The air coming through it reeked of something dark. He fought to keep himself from gagging on the stench that overpowered everything else around him. He could almost see the dark waves pouring out towards him. He put a hand over his mouth—the energy was oppressive, and he knew without a doubt why this felt familiar, uncomfortably familiar. He hadn’t been around this kind of dark energy since he was a child, but he could still recognize it.

  There was something evil lurking in this house.

  Angry voices blasted out through the opening, so loud it made him jump. A man’s voice rose up, it’s owner shouting something about someone deliberately being cruel to someone else. The words were hardly out before a woman screeched even louder in return, her words completely inaudible to him at such a volume. Nervously, the watcher slowly rose up to peek over the window sill. A man and a woman stood in the room beyond, facing each other, both of them wearing deep scowls. But he found himself focusing on the woman more. He felt the adrenaline start to pump through his system just from looking at her: that dark cloud he had sensed before was coming from her, thick and heavy. There was no denying that she reeked of darkness, but she didn’t look like any creature of evil—at first glance she appeared as just another of the Forest Children with her fair complexion, pointed ears, and tall, slender stature. But from his position he could see her eyes: there was a dark glimmer in them, one that the man opposite her seemed to miss.

  He dropped back down from the window. This was definitely not good. Two women, each with powers that they were or were not already aware of at opposite ends of the spectrum—one almost earthly and warm, the other dark and chill. This did not bode well, for anyone. He bit down on his lower lip. He could tell this other woman’s power was strong from the way it hung so heavily in the air, though he couldn’t determine its exact nature; given his own limitations, he doubted he would be able to stand long against her if he was forced into a confrontation. And what of the younger girl that lived here? Only the gods knew exactly what kind of power she was gifted with. He would have to keep a closer watch on this house.

  He crept away from the window, scanning the upper part of the house as he moved around the edge of the building. All the windows were dark; it would be impossible to tell from here where anyone else could be. The girl had to be somewhere inside; he wanted to check on her, just to reassure himself that she was all right despite the darkness sharing her house. He came to one corner of the building—perhaps if he was actually on the roof locating her would be easier. He scrambled up as quickly and quietly as he could, a difficult task since there were really no handholds to make his climb easier and a couple of the shingles along the roof edge seemed to be loose, but eventually he was able to clamber up. He stopped briefly to catch his breath before crawling across the roof as carefully as he could, listening and reaching out with his thoughts as he went.

  “He is trying to tell you he is happy,” said a girl’s voice suddenly from somewhere nearby.

  The watcher stopped abruptly. That voice—he knew that voice, well enough to know that it didn’t belong to the girl he sought. He crawled across the shingles and leaned over the roof’s edge, dangerously far as he strained to look in through the window below him. He couldn’t see into the room, but he could still hear what was going on.

  “Well?” that first voice asked. “Are you just going to stand there gawking at me? Or do you plan on saying something?”

  There was another moment’s silence, but it was quickly followed by the noise of someone trying to run. Over that came a whoosh of air, and then all fell to silence once again.

  “Now, now,” said that first voice again, “recklessness like that will not do at all.” A pause. “I do not mean to do you harm, but I must insist that you settle down—or I will be harder with you.”

  Every pause in the conversation seemed to last forever. It was maddening—he wanted so badly to just barge into the room and demand what was going on. But if he did that this newcomer would most likely misinterpret his intentions and turn on him. Scowling in frustration he held his tongue between his teeth.

  “W-what are you?” asked a second voice, also a girl’s voice; she spoke in a frightened whisper, barely audible.

  He felt something flutter in his chest. That voice, he thought. He closed his eyes and reached with his mind into the room. Almost immediately he sensed a familiar thread of energy—it was the girl’s energy. He had finally found her, and she seemed to be all right.

  “That is an odd question,” the first speaker was saying. “I thought most people would still recognize a Forest Nymph when they saw one. It must have been a few more centuries than I thought since you Elves last saw one of us.”

  “Forest Nymphs?” The Elven girl sounded confused. “‘Been a few centuries’? What in this world are you talking about?”

  Another pause. “You mean to say you have never heard of us?” More silence. “Not even in stories?” She gave a loud huff.

  If there was one more moment of silence he thought he might scream; he wished he could see into the room properly, so he could have a better idea of what was going on. He teetered dangerously on the edge of the roof as he tried to get a better view of the window.

  “Well that is really nice,” the first girl said with an air of sarcasm. “You Elves are supposed to be the favorite children of Elenia, yet you repay her by ignoring her, her other creations, and the stories she left for you to learn from!”

  She was a Nymph all right, and from the way she spoke he guessed that she was from Her inner circle. He could feel the Nymphs energy even from out here. It felt very familiar—he knew exactly who she was.

  “I should introduce myself—I was told to be polite. My name is Mai. Do not worry, this is all real—you are not imagining any of this, your mind is still sound. Right now you are the only one who will be able to see and hear me. Shall I tell you more?”

  The watcher felt his eyebrows rise. He knew Mai quite well: they had been friends years ago. But she was lying when she said no one else could see or hear her—anyone who had been around magical beings like her would be able to pick them out anywhere. And what was she doing here? The Nymphs hadn’t ranged this far from the Lady in centuries.

  “Uh, no, that’s fine,” said the other girl. She sounded very uneasy.

  “As you wish, but I should tell you…” He heard Mai yawn; she must have used most if not all of her magic to get here. “Dear me,” she said slowly. “I must have used more energy than I first thought. Fo
rgive me Calla, but I must leave you for a time.”

  “How do you—“

  “I just need to rest is all. But I will return to give you the answers you seek. Until then, goodnight!”

  He pulled back from the edge of the roof just in time. A sudden breeze filled with magic energy shot out through the open window, then the air became still again. He lifted his head up and stared out over the edge. Mai was gone—she had used even more of her magic to leave; it would leave her even more drained. He heard footsteps as the other girl—Calla, her name must have been—approached the window. He didn’t dare risk looking down at her; he was too afraid to do so.

  “I’ve gone mad,” he heard her say. He heard her close the shutter with a loud clatter and put the bar into place.

  He sat upright on the shingles, folding his legs beneath him. This was interesting: She was interested in this girl now. Why else would one of Her Nymphs be here? Calla must have been gifted indeed to draw such interest. He thought about that other woman who lived here, how dark the air surrounding her was. Usually that signified the work of darker forces…

  He sharply stopped thinking. If She was interested in this girl and the other woman was actually a servant of darker magic, then the girl was in serious danger.

  VI

  Mai

  Mai slept for three weeks straight. She had worn herself out completely by using so much magic in such a short time. Why did such simple spells have to drain her so much? As she sat up on that morning she found herself wondering once more how she could have possibly been dragged into this.

  Why did it have to be me? she thought, not for the last time.

  She knew it was pointless to be asking such questions now—it was too late, everything had already happened, there was nothing that could change that fact. She would just have to play with these cards Fate had dealt for her.

  But what would happen if it meant her doom in the end?

  At least she had found the girl, Calla. Mai had been told the chosen girl possessed the innate skills the Druids of old once had, talents that were vital to the survival of the world now. The war that waged on forever against them had been going on for so long, hope of walking away from it alive was shrinking faster and faster. The last of the ancient world existed only as a tiny island amid a vast sea of darkness, that sea growing with every passing day. The dark Lord of Death was drawing ever closer, the mortal He chose for champion preparing for the battle of ancient powers foretold at the dawn of time.

  Her Lady had no champion…yet.

  That was why Mai had been sent to this place, this strange world so much different from the one she had left behind to be here. The Lady had somehow been able to sense Calla and the talent she had. So Mai had been sent to convince the girl to come back with her, to meet the Lady and learn what she could to prepare for that battle.

  But if she wouldn’t help, if the very idea filled her with too much fear…

  Mai shook her head sharply, trying to force herself to abandon this train of thought. She couldn’t let herself dwell on any ideas of failure—it would do no one any good. There was too little time and too much at stake for her to let herself be so distracted.

  She stood up and stretched, the muscles in her back and shoulders aching slightly. All the time she thought she had gained had amounted to nothing; she had lost most of it recovering from her heavy use of magic to get here. She couldn’t afford to delay any more now. She had to focus on what she came here to do.

  With little effort she muttered a small spell, one that would keep her hidden from most mortal eyes. More comfortable with the idea that no one but Calla would be able to see her now she set out to find the girl, but was still very cautious every time she crossed paths with another Elf; at each one she froze in place and left plenty of room between them until the other had completely passed her. Partially full of fear, she roamed from one end of the city to the other and back again for the entire morning as she searched for the girl.

  She finally found Calla in the early afternoon. She sat by herself on the hillside just outside the city with her back against a single tree, a book open in her lap. She looked like she might be trying to read from it, but from this distance Mai could see the look of frustration on her face: something was on her mind, distracting her. Mai approached her as quietly as she could, not sure how things would turn out with this encounter; she remembered what happened at their first meeting. The closer she came the deeper the scowl on Calla’s face seemed to grow, until finally with a loud grunt she slammed the book closed and tossed it aside.

  “The poor book,” she said aloud without first thinking.

  Calla jumped to her feet with a yelp, turning to stare straight at her. “You!” Mai couldn’t tell if she saw more of surprise or panic in her eyes.

  “So you do remember me,” Mai said, walking forward. “I did mention I would return after I recovered.”

  “I finally managed to convince myself you were only a figment of my imagination!” Calla backed away from her on all fours as quickly as she could.

  “Quit being ridiculous. And just where do you think you are going?” Mai waved her hand through the air, calling on the energy dwelling in the earth beneath their feet. No sooner had she completed the motion that long vines shot out of the ground, flying towards Calla. With a shriek the girl scrambled to her feet and tried to run but she wasn’t fast enough—the vines caught up to her fast, wrapping around both of her wrists. She barely acknowledged what was happening before they started pulling hard against her, and she fell backwards to the ground; she was reeled towards Mai like a fish on a line. When they finally came to a stop Mai didn’t give the girl a chance to try freeing herself—while she released Calla’s hands the vines wound about her torso, securing her to the spot. Calla struggled hopelessly against them.

  Mai sighed as she sat down next to her. Why did this girl have to make things so difficult? She thought back to that first meeting: the girl had been so frightened when Mai tried her best to be friendly, even when she tried to lighten the mood with her more playful antics. Calla really did have no idea of the ancient world’s existence. The girl was afraid of her.

  This would complicate things a bit.

  “I did advise you not to try anything reckless,” she said, her voice flat. “Now will you hear me out?”

  Calla continued to struggle. “What are you?” she asked, fear saturating her voice.

  “What I told you I was. And please stop struggling—you will only succeed in bringing yourself harm.”

  The vines still had some of Mai’s magic connected to them and had been tightening their hold on the girl the more she struggled; they were starting to cut through the dirt where they came out of the ground. Calla gave one last attempt to escape and lay on the ground breathing heavily, completely exhausted from her effort.

  Mai smiled a little, but only a little. “That’s better,” she said. “Now will you hear me?”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Right now, only your undivided attention. I spent several weeks just trying to get here to find you, and you have not made it any easier for me to accomplish my task. Now if I take the vines away will you promise not to run off?” Calla was just opening her mouth to reply when Mai waved her hand through the air again, pulling her magic away and making the vines release their hold.

  Calla slowly sat up, running her hand over her midsection where the vines had held her so tightly; Mai could see the red lines that had been left behind. “This doesn’t make any sense,” she said, so frightened she didn’t raise her voice above a whisper. “This can’t be happening. This isn’t—”

  “Real?” Mai looked at her. “I know it is a frightening experience for you, but I assure you this is no dream or sign of insanity. If it is any consolation, I too wish this was not happening right now—I would not wish to frighten another being in such a way if I had any other choice.” The wind started to blow from behind them, coming at them from the distant
woods. “Can you hear them, Calla? Those voices in the air?”

  She watched as the color slowly drained from Calla’s face. Mai could tell the girl was able to hear them, the laughter and singing of the plant and animal life in the forest. She watched her face as her expression slowly changed—she was afraid. So she knew something of her gift.

  “Th-they’re not there!” Calla said desperately, putting her hands over her pointed ears.

  Mai clicked her tongue. “Try harder to deceive me next time—I know you can hear them. You have been able to hear them since you were a child, and you have been afraid of them all your life. You never dared to say a word to anyone, because you were afraid you would be seen as insane, and that you would never be able to have a normal life. Do not to deceive me any more girl—is all this true?”

  Mai watched the fear intensify in her face; her words weren’t helping the girl very much. But judging from how Calla dropped her head in defeat she was at least on the right track. “Yes,” she said quietly.

  Mai smiled halfheartedly. “It is disconcerting, I know. They are not a trick of your mind—they are the voices of every living thing in the natural world. You can understand them even though their slow lives often go unnoticed.” She stared out at the horizon as she spoke. “They know nothing of the storm that shall soon turn their way.”

  “What do you mean, ‘storm’?” Calla asked, but not out of interest. She stared at Mai suspiciously, her eyes wide.

  Mai hesitated for a moment before continuing. “My world is dying, Calla. My kind are rare enough to begin with but now there are very few of us Nymphs left, along with our Lady, Elenia, a few other spirits, and a handful of people who have believed in our existence since the ancient days. Together we are the last remaining piece of the ancient world, and we are in danger of being erased from history altogether.”

  “I’m not sure I follow,” Calla said. From the way she held her head slightly tilted to one side, Mai guessed she finally pricked the girl’s curiosity.