Age of Druids

by India Drummond

  “No. He goaded me and I lost my temper. A few weeks after she returned, she began hearing testimony concerning Koen’s betrayal to try to decide what to do with him. Two nights ago, we travelled together to Eirlioc Falls to hear whatever ridiculous defence he’d managed to contrive following his arrest.” Griogair put his feet on a low table. His posture was casual, but Munro knew him well enough to detect the tension beneath the surface. “We arrived close to dawn. We planned to rest, then see him the following evening. I received a note from one of the Watchers guarding him. Koen had been caught trying to escape. The attempt, according to his guards, was pathetic, with little chance of success. But because I had made the threat I did, they informed me as I had commanded them to.”

  “Did you tell Eilidh?”

  With a sigh, Griogair gave a minute shrug. “Upon reflection, I should have. But Eilidh was tired. Although she has recovered much in these three months since your return from the shadow realm, she still becomes exhausted easily. I went to see Koen, hoping that if I told him Eilidh was not inclined to execute her own mate, despite his treason, he would be relieved and not test my patience and her endurance.”

  Munro thought Griogair’s estimation of Koen’s ability to be reasonable was far too indulgent, but he understood the motivation. So far, nothing sounded out of character for anyone involved. “What happened when you arrived?”

  “Four experienced Watchers blocked his access to magical flows. Others guarded the doors and windows in pairs since his second attempt at escape. I entered, but didn’t find him as I expected.”

  “In what way?”

  “He was haughty, smug. Not at all like someone facing a death sentence.”

  “Sounds like him, actually,” Munro said. “Anyone who knows Eilidh would guess that she’d never want to sentence him to die. Did he deny the treason?”

  “How could he? I have no doubt he might plead innocence to Eilidh, but he and I were alone.”

  “No Watchers stayed in the room with you?”

  “Why should they? Without his magic, he was of no threat to anyone. Even you could best him in that state.”

  Munro didn’t take offense. Humans were virtually helpless against faeries as long as the faerie had access to the flows. Without magic, however, they stood little chance faced with the brute strength of human muscle. The loss left them disoriented and bereft, hardly a danger.

  “He boasted ridiculously, predicting a revolution in Caledonia. His eyes were glazed and he was frenzied with his own delusion.” Griogair shifted in his chair uncomfortably. “I listened to him rave for a while but grew bored.”

  “You weren’t concerned?”

  Griogair shrugged. “Only about how his raving might affect Eilidh. She would find a way to blame herself.” He brushed a piece of lint off the knee of his fine leather trousers. “I started to leave, but he began to scream as though in distress. When I turned to see what had upset him, he charged me with what I believed at the time was a knife in his hand.”

  “An elemental knife?”

  “Yes.”

  That shouldn’t have been possible without access to the flows. Munro frowned, wondering if there was something he was missing. “And you conjured one of your own?”

  “Yes. I drew my sword to defend myself. He flew at me, and I reacted. In an instant, Koen was dead.” The prince’s tone was flat. He didn’t meet Munro’s gaze.

  “You could have blocked him with a shield of air and not hurt him.”

  “Probably,” Griogair agreed.

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I had less than two seconds in which to respond. My choice was driven by instinct.”

  “You said what you believed to be a knife. You think the weapon was an illusion?” Munro asked.

  “Koen was not capable of creating illusions,” Griogair replied.

  “Someone else might have.”

  Griogair shook his head. “The Caledonian Watchers are trained to detect illusions, even if it’s not being cast directly at them. There were no less than eight just outside the room.”

  “Could they have been in collusion with Koen?”

  “No. Most of them I knew a long time and can vouch for personally, and two were astral faeries who had been with Eilidh on the Isle of Skye before she ascended to the throne. I cannot believe any of the Caledonian Watchers to be corrupt, and I would swear on my life there is no way all those present were, which is what such a plan would require.”

  “Someone outside? One of the former Andenans or someone hired or influenced by them?”

  “The truth is, I received the same training as the Watchers in that regard, and I sensed no illusion or influence either.”

  “Then how do you explain Koen’s knife?”

  “A grave error on my part.” He leaned forward in his seat. “I’m sorry, Munro. I know this disappoints you and, worse yet, that my actions have devastated our mate, but I made a mistake. I believed I saw a knife, but it happened quickly. When he fell, Koen had a spoon in his hand.” Griogair laughed without humour. “A spoon.”

  “Eilidh must understand. How could she have had you arrested, knowing Koen came at you like that? Even if he only attacked with a spoon, it was an honest mistake.”

  “She’s getting pressure from Prince Estobar. The former Andenans are riled and demand justice. Do not blame Eilidh. I told Koen in front of an unimpeachable witness that I would run him through with a sword if he tried to escape again. He did, and apparently I kept my word. The threat was illegal and unjustified, as was my killing of Eilidh’s third mate. As you rightly pointed out, I am capable of raising a shield or otherwise defending myself without retaliating. I made a decision, and I chose badly.”

  Anger burned within Munro. “Eilidh isn’t the one I blame. Koen’s father is nearly as much of a pain as Koen was.”

  “You’ll hear no argument from me,” Griogair said.

  “So you’re not planning to fight this?”

  “On what grounds? I did what I was accused of doing. I may not have intended to murder him, but his blood is on my hands nonetheless.” Griogair smiled sadly. “I won’t fight Eilidh. Don’t you think she’s been through enough?”

  Whether planned or not, the question only added to the weight of guilt on Munro’s shoulders. He stood abruptly. “Stand up. We’re leaving.”

  “No,” Griogair said. “This is the way things must be. If arresting me buys Eilidh peace in Caledonia, then so be it.”

  “You think she won’t order you executed?”

  “It doesn’t matter if she does. She is the queen; I am her subject.”

  “Stand up,” Munro repeated. “Now.” His anger boiled. When Griogair didn’t move, Munro put the small flute to his lips. Blowing gently, he plucked at the flows the magic revealed, reaching within Griogair to tease at his air magic. The flows were blocked by Watchers in an adjacent room, but Munro easily unwound their magical chains. With a flick of the wrist, Munro pushed Griogair to his feet with a hard shield of air.

  Griogair stumbled against Munro but quickly righted himself. “I’m impressed. Air has never been my strongest talent.”

  A pair of Watchers rushed in. Before they could act, Munro stopped them. “Do nothing,” he said. “I am taking custody of Prince Griogair.” When they hesitated, Munro gripped their flows to increase his power. He forced them to their knees.

  “Don’t do this, brother,” Griogair said. “Our mate will never forgive you.”

  Munro glared. “I am draoidh. It is my right. There is nothing to forgive.” At first, he considered how they were going to get away, but then his own words sank in. He didn’t need to escape like a thief. He had every right. “I will not have your death on my conscience, Griogair. There’s already been too much loss.” Something in Munro’s eyes must have given the prince pause because he gave no further argument. After a signal from him, the guards stood, and Munro commanded them, “Say nothing to the queen.”

  Griogair chuckled. “She�
��ll know before we arrive.”

  ∞

  The upheaval during the reunification of the Otherworld had shifted the library in the Halls of Mist into the side of the mountain. The main study areas and hall had been repaired, but further back, many of the chambers that housed runed artefacts were still buried in rubble. Only scholars could reassemble the broken pieces correctly, although some were beyond repair. The keepers said they’d rather the restoration project take a hundred years than to have historically significant writings destroyed by untrained hands.

  Keeper Oszlár’s personal documents and possessions had been moved to a study chamber at the druids’ request. Joy sat in the back, across from where Cen went over his latest findings with Aaron and Douglas. She shivered as she imagined what would happen if the mountain caved in on them. When the big quake hit before, she was just above this place, trapped in an orb of stone, her air supply quickly diminishing.

  The new head keeper entered, breaking her grim reverie. She inhaled deeply, trying to hold on to the here and now.

  Surprisingly, the keepers hadn’t chosen the eldest of their number to replace Oszlár. The new leader was called Fiyr. He had a rich voice Joy found soothing, and his aura revealed him to be a person of simple but dedicated purpose. She’d not known Keeper Oszlár, but judging by what Aaron had told her, she thought Fiyr must be the former head keeper’s exact opposite, as far as temperament went.

  “My lord druids,” he said. “Lady Joy, Cen.”

  Joy inclined her head in his direction and smiled. His aura indicated he was eager, perhaps even excited. She wished she could see him, to know if he betrayed his emotions with his expression. She imagined him to be a handsome faerie and wondered if that was true.

  “Thanks for coming,” Aaron said. Through their bond, Joy felt his mood shift slightly as he responded to Fiyr. He trusted the new head keeper and clearly felt gratitude toward him.

  “Of course,” Fiyr said.

  Cen stood and moved to sit close to Joy. He whispered to her in the fae tongue, “Do you want me to translate?” These days he always offered, rather than assuming. Her ability with English had come along quickly now that she practiced speaking it every day. Aaron tried to learn a bit of the fae tongue, but his pronunciation was terrible and he tended to throw in English words whenever he didn’t know the right term. Joy understood much of what was said from context, although the idiomatic nature of the druids’ word choice and their propensity for colourful swearing did provide challenges.

  “I’ll just listen for now,” she replied quietly. She held out her hand to him, and he guided her to place it on his own. As was their habit, she would signal him with a squeeze if she didn’t understand something.

  Aaron described to Fiyr the strange gateway Munro found in The Bleak, requesting that Joy describe what she observed about it. She did her best, feeling awkward at having to detail something she neither saw nor touched.

  Aaron asked if Fiyr knew of anything to fit their descriptions, and silence hung in the air. Fiyr’s aura darkened when he scanned his memory. Finally, he responded. “No, I’m not aware of lore around such a place. I wish I could offer a search by our scholars, but so many of our oldest artefacts have been buried or destroyed.”

  “Is there anything we can do to help?” Douglas asked.

  Fiyr brightened. “It’s kind of you to offer. I’m sure your vast talents with runes could be put to good use, as your time allows. Of course, you have priorities with the many new gateways and talismans you’re creating.”

  “Aye,” Aaron said. “It’s bloody exhausting.”

  A ripple of amusement passed over Fiyr. He’d told her once he’d had little contact with the druids before his appointment to head keeper, but he seemed to enjoy them.

  “I’ll make time,” Douglas said. “I’m planning to stay at the Druid Hall for the next month at least. Tràth is busy with the preparations for his wedding and will be travelling with Princess Imena. I’ll be more useful here than there while he’s gone. And yes, the queens make demands, asking for talismans, the new transport hub. It won’t kill them to wait. It’s vital that we don’t lose the runework we have here in the library. We still have so much to learn from them.”

  “I’m glad you agree,” Fiyr said. “My lord druids, there is something the keepers have been discussing. We had debated whether to make a more formal approach, but I think it better for these things to begin small and quietly.”

  “What things?” Aaron asked.

  “It’s to do with the pressure you receive from the queens. We keepers feel part of the reason they find it easy to impose themselves on you is your lack of structure. If you don’t mind my saying, your Hall possesses no real sense of a system of leadership.”

  Joy squeezed Cen’s hand. From Fiyr’s changing aura, she knew he held what he was saying in the utmost importance. Whatever he was leading up to was the source of his sense of eagerness when he arrived. Cen began to quietly translate for her.

  “Well, we have a more democratic way of doing things,” Aaron said. “It works for us.”

  “Of course,” Fiyr said. “But your policies confuse the queens. They see you as leaderless, rudderless, one could even say ripe for exploitation. Your system of making decisions need not change, but we wonder if perhaps even a figurehead would give them a focus. And, if you appointed a conclave, it would provide another layer of protection. Right now, any of them can approach any of you. Queen Naima has a direct channel to Lord Druid Douglas. Queen Eilidh to Lord Druid Quinton Munro, and by her relationship with her first mate, so does Queen Zdayne. These three have gained considerable power due to their ties with one of your Hall.”

  “That can’t be helped. The bond chooses who it will,” Aaron said, his tone defensive.

  “Yes, but there are other important queens. You have forged relationships with most of them, but many were due to the efforts of Lord Druid Huck. With him missing, may the Mother light his pathway home, who do they now approach?”

  “I see your point,” Douglas said.

  “There is another consideration. This new city, Rìoghachd nan Ceòthan. It’s more than a city, isn’t it? In the fae tongue, the name means Kingdom of the Mists. But who shall lead this new kingdom? Who shall decree the laws to be followed? Will there be justice? Taxes? Trade? I’ve spoken with many of the citizens of Ceòthan. They came here to serve the Druid Hall, but you’re more than just a Hall now.”

  Joy realised she’d been squeezing Cen’s hand hard as she listened to his translation. Sorry, she signed, using the finger language of the Zalian azuri to avoid interrupting the conversation. Keep going.

  “You want us to appoint a leader?” Aaron asked. “I dunno. We’ve always made decisions together.”

  “That needn’t change,” Fiyr said. “But one unifying figure to act as your representative can be a buffer between you and the demands of the queens.”

  “If we had our own queen,” Douglas began, “wouldn’t that lower us in their eyes? Put us on their level? One of the few things we have going for us is that they still equate us with the draoidh of old, maybe even more now that Munro came back from that shadow realm with the Father of the Sky. Wouldn’t going from the Druid Hall to just another kingdom make us look weaker?”

  “Not if the queens all pledge fealty, their crowns beneath one banner.”

  “Holy shit,” Aaron said. “You don’t just want us to appoint a queen, but an empress?”

  “Or emperor. In fae society, the female tend to rule, but in your own world, do not men share an equal status to the women? If it is such in your world, we believe such an arrangement could be accepted here.”

  Joy steeled her courage to interrupt. “Maiya.”

  “What?” Aaron and Douglas said together.

  “She has power in her being like I’ve never seen, greater even than the spirit essence of the Father of the Sky himself. She is female, and although I am loath to disagree with you, keeper, I believe gender does
matter. Females were made to rule, and the queens will agree with me.”

  “Interesting idea,” Fiyr said. “However, as an infant, she will need a regent to rule in her place.”

  “Her father is already considered the leader of the druids,” Joy said, doing her best to ignore the mild wave of irritation from Aaron. He’d been the one to step up when Munro died, and with him gone so much, Aaron was still the one people looked to at the Druid Hall.

  “Six months ago, I would have agreed with you,” Douglas said. “But since his journey to the shadow realm, he’s not been the same. He’s obsessed with finding Huck and Demi right now and spends more time in the human realm than he does here. He wouldn’t thank us for naming him king.”

  “Or his daughter an empress.” Aaron sighed. “He’s even more protective than before.”