“Who’s the streaker?” Emmet points at the naked guy. “Did Fionn mention anything about a kinky love slave?”
Calum laughs and takes a closer look. “My gaydar isn’t ringing. I’m going to go with no.”
“A nudist, maybe,” Dillan muses. “Did druids do the full monte in the seventh century? You know, embrace nature in all its wonder and glory?”
“Maybe his loincloth was at the cleaners when the sculptor stopped by,” Aiden offers.
I chuckle and step forward for a closer look. “Do any of you guys feel a draw to any particular statue? Maybe it’s because I met Fionn and wear the Fianna shield on my back, but I’d swear his statue is calling to me.”
“Now that ye mention it…” Da moves to stand before the defense fighter with the staff. “I thought it was because his staff looks wicked sexy.”
“I don’t think that’s all it is.” Dillan lines up with the stealth fighter with the twin daggers.
I watch as Aiden nods and moves to face the defensive fighter with the sword and Calum’s grin splits wide at the sight of the bow and quiver. “Please tell me this means something big because dayam I’ve always had a hard-on for Robin Hood.”
I laugh and check out the only one of us not enthused.
“Seriously?” Emmet points. “I’m the naked guy? What the hell?”
I bite my bottom lip and try to sober. “Do you feel the draw, Em? Do you want to touch him?”
He cants his head to the side and frowns. “Not in a weird way, but yeah. Shit, Fi. Why can’t I be the badass with two daggers? My guy doesn’t have weapons.”
“Maybe he’s the healer, son,” Granda offers. “Maybe he didn’t need weapons because he was their savior. Sloan, ye did say Emmet’s primary discipline was Healing, did ye not?”
Sloan nods. “It is.”
“Okay, Emmet.” I gesture for him to line up. “That sorta makes sense. Go ahead, touch the nakey man.”
I press my fingers over my mouth to keep from laughing, but my brothers don’t even try.
“You’re all a bunch of fecking eejits,” Emmet snaps. “Look away. Nothing to see here.”
I wipe the tear that’s escaped my eye and focus on Fionn’s statue. “Okay, here goes everything.”
I don’t know how I know it with such surety, but I do. I need to touch the statue. No, it’s stronger than need—it’s a compulsion.
I reach forward and touch the stone of his torso, and feel the burst of magic invade my body. It’s like a download of energy, knowledge, and instinct. I stumble back, and my world spins. I bend at the waist and prop my palms on my knees while I wait for the funhouse ride to stop.
After drawing a deep breath, I straighten and check on the others. They look equally shaken. “Wow. That was something. Is everyone alrigh—Emmet!”
I close the distance between the statues and where Emmet lies starfished in the dirt twenty feet away. Sloan is kneeling over him, and I drop beside him. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“He’s out cold.” Sloan’s hands move over him, but I don’t see any blood or injuries. “I think that’s all it is, though. He got a jolt—”
Emmet’s eyes pop wide, and he launches from his back to his feet. “Did you see that! That was incredible. Holy shit, it’s like… You know that scene in The Matrix in the techno dentist chair? It’s that… I downloaded everything. Like, seriously, everything.”
Emmet bounces off, rambling like he’s high on magic, and my heart starts to beat again. I flop on my ass in the dirt and drop my head, focused on calming the thundering rush of adrenaline pumping through me. “You guys are going to give me a heart attack, I swear.”
“Fi, yer gonna want to see this.”
“I honestly don’t know how much more excitement I can take for one day.” I accept Sloan’s hand, and he pulls me up. “Thanks, surly. You got to him first to take care of him. I appreciate that more than you know.”
Sloan’s smile is a little sad. “I do know. Now, go on, see what yer da has to show you.”
Da doesn’t need to show me. I see it as I’m walking back. What was stone two minutes ago is now not.
“The enchanted weapons.” I watch as Dillan takes possession of the stealth fighter’s daggers.
“The handles are carved out of bone.” He grips them and spins them in his hands like they’re a natural extension of his arms and not something he picked up for the first time this instant.
“And look, you get a leafy cape.”
“It’s a cloak.” Sloan lifts it off the stone statue of the warrior. He eases it over Dillan’s head and adjusts the shoulders to sit squarely. It’s pieced with layers of different green, brown, and copper tones and when the light catches it, it looks almost like a living forest. “If the hood does what I think it does, tell me what happens when it’s up.”
The fabric barely covers his mop of ebony hair before Dillan squeals like an excited little boy. “Holy-schmoly! This is so cool.”
“What? What does the hood do?”
“It’s hard to explain.” Dillan looks around the room in wonder. “It’s like I know everything about my surroundings: what will make noise if I disturb it, what I can use as a weapon if I need one, what each of your strengths and weaknesses is at a glance.”
“It’s a rogue’s cloak of concealment,” Sloan says. “The hood brings a greater depth of perception.”
“That’s so cool, D. Congrats.” I leave him to get back to Da. My father is waiting patiently by the statues, and I eye the wizard’s staff he’s holding. It looks like a solid shaft of oak with a twining twig running and twisting around its length like a protruding vein. And at the top, the solid knot of a burl acts as a club. “Cool staff, old man.”
“A souvenir I picked up on my trip.”
“That’s neat wood. Freaky, really.”
“It’s snakewood. One of the hardest woods and insanely rare and expensive.” He waggles his brow, then points at the Fionn statue again. “Yer so caught up in everyone else’s windfall, ye haven’t taken a look at what Fionn intended his young apprentice to have.”
Right. “Cool. I always wanted an iron crown and arm guards made of bark. I take it by Fionn’s stance that he’s supposed to be holding Birga.”
“Well, ye already found her, so yer ahead of the game.”
Fionn’s spear is wicked cool. She’s enchanted with necromancy magic, so as she cut through the Black Dog enemy during our battle, she transferred their life force to me, to heal my wounds and bolster my strength.
“Yeah, Birga is awesome. I’m okay with what I got.”
“What did you get?” Aiden comes over to check out my haul. “Huh, a metal headband and chunks of wood. Not what I expected for the leader of the pack.”
Dillan steps around the statue and shakes his head. “Nope. These aren’t simply chunks of bark. They’re enchanted up the ying-yang. They’re bracers cut from a branch of the Tree of Life and hollowed through the core to retain the integrity of the bark’s magic. They offer wicked protection.”
Aiden looks at him and blinks. “When did you become an encyclopedia of ancient artifacts?”
“His hood’s up.” I point at the hood of his cloak. “It gives him tactical wisdom about his surroundings.”
Aiden grins. “Okay, that’s freaking cool.”
Dillan waggles his brow. “I know, right?”
“Go on, Fi.” Da takes the bracers from the statue to slip them up my arms. “Time to try them on.”
I hold my hands out, and he slides the guards past my wrist and up my forearms. Honestly, I’m not sure what to expect, but what I don’t expect is for them to suction to my skin and spread up my arms and down my fingers. “What’s happening?” I shout. “What are they doing?”
“Relax, Fi,” Emmet says. “It’s fine. I think they’re bonding with you.”
“Bonding how?” I look at Da. He seems equally alarmed.
“Taking root is more accurate.” Sloan grabs my finge
rs and turns them over in his hands. “Look. It’s forming a tattoo. Roots inking into the skin of yer hands and branches moving up yer arms.”
“Why? Why do I want that?” My breath comes fast, and I wonder if I might faint again. “Guys, am I becoming a tree lady or something? I don’t want to be a tree lady.”
“Lift yer shirt,” Sloan directs while shifting behind me.
“Watch it, buddy,” Calum warns. “Now’s not the time.”
Sloan mutters something about us all being cracked and huffs behind me. “Cumhaill, lift yer shirt. I need to see where the branches are going.”
I pull my shirt over my head and stand there in my bra. Now is not the time for modesty, and I’m not shy to begin with. “What’s happening? What does it look like?”
“The branches are merging with yer Fianna shield. I think Emmet and Dillan are right. I think the bracers are protection and are bonding directly to yer shield. Aiden, give me yer knife.”
There’s a resounding growl of disgruntled men, and Sloan gets shoved back a few feet.
“You’re on the bench, hotshot,” Calum says. “We’re not giving you a knife so you can test your theory and stab our sister to see if she bleeds.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t be daft. I don’t want to hurt her. I want to see if the protection acts as a shield for her. If I’m right, her skin is impenetrable while she’s got them on.”
Impenetrable? Well, that doesn’t sound so bad.
“But do I have to be tattooed like a tree over my entire body? I’m already freaked about the shield on my back, and people don’t even see that one.”
“Uh…yeah, I think ye might—”
“Holy shit!” Dillan draws everyone’s attention. “Check it.” He pulls off his shirt and shows us his forearms. There’s a tattoo of his daggers up the inside of each arm. “Now watch.” He flexes his hands, and the tattoos are gone, and the daggers are in his hands.
“What. The. Serious. Fuck.” Calum says. “How’d you do that? Do it again.”
He does. One second the daggers are in his hands, and the next, they’re tattoos on his arms.
“It’s like Emmet says. With my hood up, I felt they wanted to bond with me. They needed me to accept them as my weapons fully, and they accepted me as their wielder. It’s ink magic. Now they’re a part of me. Go ahead, Fi. Relax and accept what the bracers are trying to do.”
“Bam. Drop the mic!” Calum whips off his shirt. He has a quiver strap inked across his chest, a bow on his left forearm, and yep, when he turns around, a quiver on his back. “Best day, evah!”
I meet Da’s gaze. “Yeah?”
He dips his chin and takes my hands. “Yeah. Aiden, give me yer knife.”
I laugh when he first presses the blade against the fleshy pad of my finger, and I feel nothing. When he pokes me, the blade doesn’t penetrate. Then, he draws the cutting edge across my palm. Nothing.
“Sloan seems right about the shielding,” Granda observes. “I’m not willing to say impenetrable, but certainly as tough as bark. Now see if ye can bond with it, mo chroi. My thinking is the tattoo will only cover yer flesh when it’s active. Otherwise, it’ll go inside ye like the boys’ weapons.”
Thank you, baby Groot. That I could handle.
So, if accepting the gift of impenetrable flesh is my reward from Fionn, I accept, and I’m grateful to the Tree of Life for her magic bark bracers.
I peek one eye open and look down at my skin. “Nothing happened. Why do I still look like I live in a tattoo parlor?”
Sloan frowns. “Yer granda’s right. I think the inking will disappear when the magic of the bracers is dormant. Are ye sure yer accepting of the gift?”
I sigh. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”
“It’s a lot all at once.” Da grabs the metal band off Fionn’s head and places it on mine. “Come now, let’s figure out how to get out of here. We can worry about Fi’s tattoo later.”
“Not a problem,” Dillan says. “Follow me. I sense the hidden exit. Damn, can you believe how cool I am?”
I snort. “And humble, too.”
Chapter Eight
It’s late by the time we make our way out of the fortress and breathe the crisp, clean night air. The moon is high and casts a silver glow through the canopy of the trees. Although the group vibrates with newfound powers and awareness, our travel is quiet. Silent. Not a whisper of a sound.
Dayam. It seems our upgrades have improved more than our knowledge. Although sticks and leaves litter our path, there’s barely a stir in the air.
“To paraphrase Dillan,” I say, my mind spinning. “Can you believe how freaking cool we are?”
Da snorts. “It’s less impressive if ye’ve spent yer life among the Order. Enchanted weaponry and heightened abilities are part of this life. The amazing part is that it didn’t take ye forty years of study and practice.”
I’m not keen on the implication that we got off easy. “We will. Just because we’ve been dipped in awesomesauce doesn’t mean we’re going to rest on our laurels. We’ll study and practice like everyone else, won’t we, guys?”
There’s a resounding grumble of affirmation.
Granda points out, “If ye think about that, perhaps it’s the will of the gods somehow that the six of ye be brought up to speed quickly so yer ready to face what’s to come.”
“And what do you think is coming?” Da asks.
Granda shrugs and steps around a large rock in the center of the path. “I can’t say. It was a thought.”
I cast a sideways glance at Sloan and frown. He’s been awfully quiet since we touched the statues. I drop back and walk beside him. “Hey, you okay?”
“Right as rain. Why wouldn’t I be?”
So, not okay. I recap the night and come up empty. Is he upset that my brothers harassed him about looking at the tattoo? Is he still hurt from me falling on him? Does he feel left out since he didn’t get an item gifted to him?
“Thank you for coming along and for catching me. I hope your back isn’t too sore.”
“It’s fine.”
We carry on in silence, him brooding, and me listening to an animal foraging in the scrub and an owl in the trees somewhere close by. “There was tension between us this afternoon when you came to pick us up, but I hope we ironed that out. I’m over it. I get pissy and hurt sometimes. I’m sorry about that, and hope you’re not still put out.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for. Everything’s fine.”
“Clearly not, but I won’t push. I just want you to know that I value everything you’ve done for us. I appreciate you.”
He slows and lets me pass through the large boulders ahead of him. When we get back to the vehicles, he pulls out the keys and tosses them to Da. “If it’s all the same, I think I’ll transport home. I’m tired, and I want to check on our family grove. I’ll pick up the SUV tomorrow when Lugh and I start going over the scrolls and journals we found.”
“You’re leaving?” I give him a sideways glance.
“No offense meant, but I have things to worry about aside from the Cumhaill chaos. I needn’t spend the next four hours in transit. I’ll see ye tomorrow.”
I’m about to respond, but there’s no reason to. He’s gone.
“I guess that’s the end of that convo.”
Emmet chuckles. “He kinda kicks ass at dramatic exits.”
The quest team is slow to rise the next morning, and I feel bad for Aiden. The kids don’t seem to care that daddy was up late. They want to climb on him and give him hugs. “How much sleep did you get?” I ask as we meet at the counter.
“Three hours.”
I groan and take the mug from his hands. “Go back to bed. I’ll play with the kids outside and keep them occupied for a few hours with Gran so you can get some rest.”
“If you don’t need Kinu, can she join me? She was up worrying all night and could use some time relaxing with me too. The druid stuff has been hard on her. I’d like to smooth out
some rough edges.”
I submerge his mug in the dishwater and shoo him toward Da’s old bedroom. “Off you go. I’ll find Kinu and tap her out so the two of you can have some private time. But please make sure you get at least some sleep.”
Aiden kisses my cheek and chuckles. “Oh, there will be sleeping too. You’re the best, baby girl. Love you.”
“You, too. Sweet dreams.”
I consider heating a plate of breakfast casserole, then decide to stick with sugary carbs. Grabbing a large section of Gran’s signature strudel, I take a bite.
OMG. Strawberry rhubarb…so good.
I take my large mug of tea and a wad of strudel as big as my head outside and find Gran, Kinu, and the wildlings on the back lawn petting deer. “Kinu, why don’t you go take a nap? I sent Aiden in to take another run at sleep, and he said you were up most of the night too. I have baby duty covered for a few hours.”
My sister-in-law looks up at me, and yeah, the dark rings under her eyes don’t suit her. “You don’t mind?”
I finish chewing and lick my fingers. “Not at all. Go lay down. We’ve got you covered.”
“Thanks, Fi.” She sets Jackson on his feet and rises off the grass. “You guys will be good for Gran and Auntie Fi, won’t you?”
Neither of them responds.
Hey, if you don’t promise, you can’t be held to anything.
I laugh and wave her away. “The deer are much more interesting than mommy’s worrying. Go on. If you don’t get there soon, he’ll be unconscious, and you’ll be outta luck on the adult segment of nap time.”
Kinu chuckles and waves over her shoulder. “Honestly, I’m so tired I don’t care.”
When I sit with the kids, Meggie looks at me and starts to pout. Within moments, the pushed-out lip becomes tears. “What’s the matter, Megs?”
“Why you gots that?” Jackson points at my arms.
I sigh and rub the bark bracers suckerfished to my arms. The tattoo of tree roots inks down my hands and fingers. The fretwork and vining are quite complex and dramatic.
Thankfully, she can’t see that the bark pattern and branches also ink upward and cover my entire body. Like, all my parts. It’s horrifying.
A Sacred Grove (Chronicles of an Urban Druid Book 2) Page 7