by Linsey Hall
With the last oak fallen, the witches ceased chanting and silence fell upon the forest.
“Cam, I—”
His voice rode over hers, thick with concern. “We need to get you back to the university.”
“We all need to get back,” Cora said. “The worst is over, but the forest must settle. It’s dangerous here.”
Cam nodded and swept her up. Ana realized that the time for speaking her heart had passed.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
Cam laid Ana upon the bed in the infirmary at the university, worry wrapped around his heart like barbed wire.
“I’m fine.” She coughed, a bit of blood marring her lips.
“You’re not.” He pushed gently on her shoulders when she tried to sit.
Behind him, Esha demanded that a nurse help her sister, while Cora helped a wounded Vivienne to the bed in front of her. Bright light shone through the windows, illuminating the long room studded with narrow beds placed at regular intervals. Healers rushed to the beds, inspecting Vivienne’s crushed torso, a testament to the strength of the Pechs.
Cam felt a pair of hands brush at the wound in his back. Another healer. He reached around, pushing them away. “Help Ana first.”
“Really, I’m fine,” Ana said. “I think the other Dryad souls helped me heal. I’m a bit tender is all. See to Cam’s back. And Aurora’s arm.”
“We’ll be able to save it,” the healer said from two beds down. He was a huge man, burly with great ham-like hands. Yet he was delicate and gentle when he touched Aurora. “It’s not entirely severed.”
“She’ll be all right, won’t she?” Worry was thick in Esha’s tone as she hovered at her sister’s bedside. The Chairman yowled his support.
“Shu- up,” Aurora slurred. “F-fine.”
“You’re not fucking fine and you know it,” Esha shot back.
“She’ll be fine,” the healer said.
The rest of their party sat on or leaned against hospital beds that were lined up along the wall of the white-on-white room. A third healer tended to the deep gash on Cadan’s chest while Diana looked on worriedly. Fiona held an icepack to her bruised face. Aerten stood off to the side, shell shocked, and Cam wondered vaguely if she felt as overwhelmed as he did. Loki hadn’t returned with them, but Cam wasn’t surprised. He must have followed Druantia to the clearing, though why he’d helped them was still a mystery.
Cam wanted like hell to get Ana alone, but he needed her checked by a healer first. A second later, a small, gray-haired woman bustled over from where she’d been tending Cadan to check on Ana. She looked like she should be baking cookies for her grandchildren, but in Cam’s estimation, age meant experience, and the more of it, the better.
“I really am fine,” Ana said as the woman inspected her abdomen. The skin was unblemished and smooth.
“Aye, you are. Right as rain.” The healer looked up at Cam. “You can let her up now, son. And you can let me tend to that arm and back.”
Cam scowled, then realized that his blood was dripping to the floor and he was feeling vaguely lightheaded.
“Just a few butterfly bandages. I’ll heal up soon.” Sooner, now that he was a god again.
“All you need is a bit of a spell, and you’ll be all right,” the healer said from behind him.
A vague warmth spread across his back where she touched him. He realized he wasn’t in the jungle anymore, treating himself haphazardly with whatever he had on hand. The university had a top-notch healing staff.
“Good as new.” The grandmotherly healer came around to his front. “Most of you can go. Aurora and Vivienne will need to stay. It’ll be a while before they’re healed.”
“But they’ll be fine, right?” Ana asked as she sat up.
She was the most beautiful, most precious thing that Cam had ever seen, and his heart expanded just to look at her.
“Aye, they’ll all be fine. It’ll just take some time to heal those bones and reattach that arm.”
“Thank you, everyone,” Cam said, gratitude thick in his throat.
“Well, then. I suppose I can ask if it worked?” Warren asked.
“Yes.” Cam’s voice was a little strained. Ana reached for his hand, and he squeezed hers.
Aerten rubbed her temple, then shook her head. “Yes. I… yes. It worked. I need to go. To see someone. I—I’ll see you all later. And—thank you.”
With a last blind glance around the room, Aerten disappeared. Otherworld would be in a frenzy right now, but Cam didn’t care. The rest of the group was filtering out of the room, limping or walking tall. But all would be healed soon, thank fate.
“Let’s get out of here.” He helped Ana stand.
“Definitely.” She nodded and grinned.
He wrapped an arm around her and aetherwalked them to the Amazon. Damn, it was good to be able to do that again.
The sun was setting over the canopy when they arrived on the deck of the Clara G., and long shadows were being cast across the dark river. The boat was still tied off to the dock space he’d rented before they’d left. There were vessels on all sides of them, but none were inhabited at the moment. The familiar howling and rustling of the jungle animals was a welcome taste of home, and something in Cam’s chest loosened. Being home, with Ana, who he’d never expected to see again, much less fall in love with, felt perfect.
Ana looked around at the boat and the jungle. “We’re back on your boat?”
“It’s not the finest accommodations, but it’s home.” He grinned.
“Good point. I like your home. And it’s not like I have one of my own now that I’m no longer a god. I’m starting from square one.”
He pulled her to him and hugged her close, reveling in the feel of her whole and healthy. “You have one now.”
“Do I?”
“Didn’t you hear me in the forest? I love you, Ana. I probably have for a long time, but I couldn’t feel it. But I feel everything now, and most of that is love for you.”
She wriggled so that she could meet his eyes. “Really?”
“Of course.” He pressed a hard kiss to her lips. “I’ve been hiding from my fate. Hanging out alone in the jungle, ignoring life. You have such a passion for it that you made me realize I’d lost mine. Of course I love you.”
“Good. Because likewise. One of those trees in the forest was me. Or at least half of me. Part of my soul was trapped within. When it finally fell and I was whole again, I realized I loved you.”
His big hands cupped her face while he kissed her. He raised his head and asked, “You’re full Mythean now? Immortal?”
“I think so. I was only part Mythean because half my soul was trapped. Now that I have it back, I’m a Dryad. I can hear the jungle trees like they’re whispering. But it’s been so long since I’ve been a Dryad that I’m not sure what it all means. I haven’t spoken to another since my first incarnation. I don’t even know how many are left after what Druantia did to us.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
As she grinned, the last beam of sunlight of the day shined upon her face. Cam saw the potential of the future and all that lay before them, and for the first time in millennia, everything was perfect.
“We will,” she said. “I’m just glad I’m alive. On earth. And you’re alive. And the gods probably won’t want to kill you now that the spell is broken and all the old rules are clearly shit.”
“We’ll have to see.”
“It will be fine. I know it will. Aerten felt emotion back there in the infirmary. Give the gods a little while to adjust and then go back to visit. They’ll see sense. Now we just need to figure out what the hell I’m going to do with the rest of my life.”
“How do you feel about hunting cures here in the Amazon with me? We’re close to finding Rosa McManus.”
She grinned. “I do like plants. More than I’d ever realized. I could be good with that. And we’d live on the Clara G?”
“Yeah. You and me and the river.”
>
She looked around appraisingly. “All right. But the cabin will need a bigger bed.”
He pulled her to him and kissed her, the light of a thousand suns filling his chest with joy for the future. “Not a problem. Anything for the woman I love.”
EPILOGUE
Amazon Jungle, Three weeks later
“Hey, Cam! I think I found it!” Ana called from her position in the jungle.
Cam turned from the foliage he was inspecting and trotted toward Ana. Her pale arm and shoulder were visible behind a tree about twenty feet distant. When he reached her, he slowed to a stop and crouched next to her. She was inspecting a creeping rose bush that crawled over a fallen tree limb.
Pale orange and lushly petaled, the rose looked exactly like the sample.
“You found it.” A grin spread across his face.
“Not hard. I could almost hear it. It’s crazy the skills I have as a Dryad.”
He reached over and cupped the back of her head, pulling her toward him for a kiss. “Good work.”
“Really, not hard. I did the same thing as before, but this time, it worked. I focused on the type of plant and asked it where it was. A really strong feeling led me to it since we were already close.”
It made sense. This was the thirteenth spot they’d checked along the river this week. After Harp had given him the basic location, he’d set off with Ana to locate the rose. Every other time, they’d tied off to shore and searched the banks and the deeper jungle. This time, they’d actually tied off to the right spot.
“I’ll go get the supplies.”
“Good. I’ll go look for more. I think this is the first rose species ever found in the jungle. I don’t know how common it is.”
He nodded, then jogged back to the boat to gather the sample bags, shovel, garbage bags, and buckets needed to safely transport the roses out of the jungle.
When he returned, he called out for Ana, who he presumed was deeper in the jungle searching for more roses. When she didn’t respond, his heart kicked into a frantic rhythm.
“Ana!” He dropped the shovel and jogged through the forest, searching for her. Where the hell was she? The jungle was dangerous.
“Hey! I’m over here!”
He turned toward her voice and finally caught sight of her, stepping out from behind trees in the distance. He was at her side a second later, clutching her to him.
“Fuck, you had me worried,” he said into her hair.
She squeezed him, then pulled back. “Don’t be. Everything’s fine now.”
“I know. I guess it was just so close there for a while that I became accustomed to the idea of losing you. And it sucked.”
“It’s over. The gods are no longer pissed, Druantia is stuck in Otherworld, and I’m a Mythean. And I have my bow, thanks to you.”
One of his first acts after they’d survived the forest had been to retrieve her bow from Druantia’s creepy shop. With it, she could protect herself from anything. Remembering that when worry overwhelmed him… Well, that was harder. He pulled her to him and kissed her, leaning his forehead against hers. “I love you so damned much.”
“As I love you. More than I ever knew.” She kissed him hard, then drew back. “Now let’s get those samples.”
They walked back to the first Rosa McManus they’d found.
“I discovered a couple dozen bushes scattered around the immediate vicinity,” Ana said. “I can feel more farther away, so I’d say we’re safe to take two from the root and it won’t hurt the population. Then we’ll get the clippings of about a dozen.”
“Good. We’ll have them back to Scotland before New Year’s, and testing can start on the first of the year.” Cam set about digging up the bush while Ana prepped the bucket and bags. "Don’t forget we’re going to Otherworld after we celebrate the holiday with Esha and Warren.”
They’d only been back to Scotland once since the fight in the grove three weeks ago, to check up on everyone and to thank them. Aurora and Vivienne had healed fully, thank fates. Seeing them under less dire circumstances would be good.
“I can’t wait to see my brothers. It’s just so different now that emotion has returned to Otherworld and they aren’t automatons any more. It’s like I have them back again.” Ana patted the last of the soil in place around the roots in the bucket and grinned up at him.
Her joy was palpable and contagious. He still didn’t love returning to Otherworld to see to the occasional godly meeting or duty, but he didn’t mind it. And since Ana got to come along and see her family, it was more than worth the trip.
“If we get back in time, we could try to make it to Otherworld for the winter solstice celebration.”
“Sure,” Cam said.
“Hey! I should see if my brothers want to add a Christmas tree to winter solstice. And presents. It would really liven up the night. You never know, they might like it,” she said.
“It’ll be grand. First Christmas I’ve celebrated. And it will only be marred by one visit with the gods’ council.” He’d seen them once, a week ago, after the chaos had settled in Otherworld. With the spell broken, the gods had emotion and they no longer believed the lie that their presence was required in Otherworld to keep it functioning. Not that they were running off to earth to party—Cam was the only one who wanted to live here—but the laws holding him in Otherworld were no longer in place.
“They still love those meetings, don’t they?” Ana asked. “Gotta say, I’m glad it’s your job now and not mine.”
She laughed and he grinned, thanking the fates for everything that had happened in the last month. He had a future now, and so did she. Together, they could face whatever came at them.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
In Rogue Soul, I had a great time returning to the history that inspired my first book, Braving Fate. Historically, Camulos and Andrasta were both Celtic gods worshipped by the Celts of Britain. The Celtic kingdom of the Iceni favored Andrasta, goddess of victory, while the people of the Trinovante kingdom favored Camuos, god of war.
They are just two out of hundreds of Celtic gods worshipped by thousands of people from dozens of kingdoms and tribes. The Celts weren’t one people in one place at one time. Rather, they were a culture that originated in central Europe and spread out to encompass most of Europe and the British Isles during the first millennium B.C. They spoke many languages and worshiped many gods, but were linked by their material culture and advanced use of metalwork.
Andrasta never replaced Camulos, however. I made that bit up, which I imagine was fairly obvious.
Something I think is really neat is the fact that the heroine of Braving Fate, Diana (the reincarnate of Boudica) worshipped Andrasta when she was Boudica. Cadan, the hero of Braving Fate, was born in the city that was named for Camulos—Camulodunum. This was purely coincidental.
Camulodunum was briefly mentioned in Rogue Soul as the city whose construction gave Camulos more power because it was built in his name. This is the event that convinced the other gods that Camulos was so powerful that he must be removed.
As for the Celtic history of the bow? To date, there is little, if any, concrete evidence that the Celts of Britain used the bow and arrow in the first millennium BC. For the purposes of this story, they used the bow for hunting but not for war. In the story, Camulos says that the bow was given to him by the Greek god, Apollo. The Greeks did use the bow for war at this time.
And last, Camulos’ modified steamboat was inspired by another Klondike gold rush steamboat, the A.J. Goddard. He named his boat the Clara G. after a real woman named Clara Goddard. She helped her husband, Albert Goddard, build two 50-foot long sternwheel paddleboats during the winter of 1897/98. With the help of men and mules, they carried them over the mountains of southern Canada in pieces and constructed them on the bank of Lake Bennett at the headwaters of the Yukon river. Clara Goddard was the first female steamboat pilot on the Yukon river. If you want a good story, look up the A.J. Goddard. I promise that you won’t be di
sappointed.
Stolen Fate
Linsey Hall
CHAPTER ONE
Blisteringly hot hellwinds scraped across Ian MacKenzie’s flesh as he hoisted the great stone block into place. His muscles burned as he shoved it into position, and the manacle affixed to his ankle cut into his flesh. Why they made them wear these things, he had no idea. It wasn’t like the prisoners were going to flee.
A desert wasteland stretched out as far as he could see, burning sands surrounding the cathedral they built in hell. Certain death awaited them in the desert, which was saying something for an immortal. It was nearly impossible to destroy the body of one of their kind, but the hellish afterworld called Moloch could do it.
“It’s wrong.” The voice of the overseer boomed from behind him.
Rage burned in Ian’s chest, searing his ribs and lungs like hell’s fire. It was always wrong. The great stone walls of the partially constructed cathedral soared above him. He called it a cathedral, but he had no idea what it truly was. No one ever told the prisoners what they were building. But the labyrinthine structure was never up to the standards of the designers.
“Do it again.”
Ian ground his teeth and picked up the sledgehammer that he used so often it was driving him mad. He swung it at the stone wall, pain singing up his arms when the hammer connected with the stone. Something in his soul tore away as he destroyed the wall over which he’d toiled.
He kept up the motion until the voice of an overseer echoed across the red sands.
“Enough!”
Thank gods. His muscles burned, his skin stung from the hellwinds, and his mind felt near-fractured from the constant repetitive toil of build, destroy, build, destroy. One of the three overseers unlocked the chain at his ankle and Ian followed the other prisoners, a dozen of them in total, to the departure area. It was nothing more than a patch of sand guarded by two of the overseers. He joined the rest of the men in line to be transported back to the prison.