The Druid's Guise: The Complete Trilogy (The Druid's Guise Trilogy)

by Michael J Sanford

  A sharp slap to the back of his head broke his trance. Athena glared at him, her brows arched and eyes wide. What was a Druid to do against a sand snake? “Uh, run?” he suggested with a coy shrug.

  Athena looked at the snake and then back at Wyatt. She nodded. “Sounds good to me, see ya.”

  Athena disappeared down the gentle slope of the dune before Wyatt had known she’d gone. He stared after her a moment before slowly spinning back to face the sand snake. It gnashed its giant teeth, sending globs of spit, or perhaps poison, arcing toward Wyatt. He stumbled backward, narrowly avoiding being hit. Slowly, the snake began to uncoil, its thick head moving to the sand, inching toward the startled teen. Luckily, instinct and a desperate will to survive took over and Wyatt found himself floundering down the dune, arms flailing, and voice raised to a humiliating octave.

  Wyatt had never realized how difficult it was to traverse in sand. For every two steps he took up the steep bank of a dune he slid back one. In a matter of moments, he was gasping for air and a thin sheen of sweat clung coldly to his forehead. He didn’t look back, for fear of what was certain to be a scant length away. Surely a sand snake was quicker across sand than a fifteen-year-old boy who was, admittedly, a little thick of body.

  “You sure are slow for a Druid,” Athena said from the top of the particularly steep dune.

  Wyatt reached her side and fell to his knees. “What do you know about Druids?”

  Athena shrugged. “Nothin’. But if you can make magic roots appear or whatever, then you should be able to at least walk. I ain’t gonna carry yer heavy ass.”

  Wyatt frowned and thought to rebuke her, but his attention was arrested by thoughts of being swallowed by a certain snake. He stumbled to his feet and sought to run again, but tripped and fell into Athena. The strong teen pushed him aside. He hit the sand with a grunt, began to rise again, but stopped as his eyes landed on the pale skeletal snake atop the neighboring dune.

  “Relax, Wy,” Athena said. “I don’t think it wants to eat us, just wanted us to get the hell away from its babies.”

  The giant copper-skinned beast had coiled itself around the nest of eggs, never having given chase. The beady black eyes were still cast in their direction, watching silently, but it gave no indication of pursuit. Wyatt exhaled loudly and shivered, the cold wind chilling his sweat. “Yeah, I knew it wasn’t going to…you know…eat us. I was just messing with you. No beast would dare eat a Druid.”

  Athena rolled her eyes and turned to face the opposite direction, seemingly unnerved by their near-death experience. “Holy shit,” she said after a long moment.

  Wyatt gave the sand snake one last look and spun in place to follow Athena’s gaze. From their high vantage point they could see for miles in all directions. Endless dunes created endless hills and valleys, but there, on the horizon…

  “Looks like people. Maybe some sort of village?” Athena said.

  “Yeah, maybe,” Wyatt said, rising to his feet. “Let’s hope so. I’m starving. And we have to figure out where we are.”

  “And you could use a bath,” Athena said wrinkling her nose in disgust and leaning away.

  Wyatt lunged for her, but Athena danced away with a laugh and sped down the slope, half running, half sliding, but doing both with grace and skill. Wyatt grunted and followed after, with far less of both.

  It didn’t take long for the distant spot to grow and differentiate. They hadn’t been as far away as Wyatt had surmised.

  “Definitely people,” Athena said. “By the way, everyone loves you, right?”

  “Huh?”

  “Well, looks like a big crowd. I don’t wanna get shanked my first day here. You’re like a celebrity or some shit to these people, right, Mister Druid? You’re like God?”

  Wyatt frowned for a moment before he understood her question. “Uh, yeah,” he said hesitantly. “If we’re in Hagion.” And if they’re not Regents…

  Chapter Two

  SOMETHING HELD THE crowd’s attention, allowing Wyatt and Athena to approach unseen. Wyatt could see right away that they were not human. The creatures were much too short and hunched, and though they were all hooded beneath thick robes, something in his gut told him they were different.

  “They ain’t human, are they?” Athena whispered, as they drew near.

  Wyatt smiled at her and shook his head. “Awesome, huh?”

  “What you think they’re doin’?”

  Wyatt stood on his toes to see over the stunted creatures. They were packed tightly around what appeared to be a hole in the ground. Some were shouting, others were laughing. A few were throwing wooden buckets down into the shadows. He looked to Athena and shrugged, but Athena’s expression had shifted. Her eyes glazed over, and a wicked scowl appeared like a dark cloud, promising to erupt.

  Before Wyatt could react, Athena was pushing into the crowd, pulling and shoving the hooded creatures aside, and shouting. The crowd fell silent, and hooded eyes went to the human plowing a path through the crowd, spitting a never-ending slew of curses. Wyatt stumbled after, not wanting to become separated from her.

  The attraction was a short stone wall, circular, and hiding what Wyatt could only imagine was a well. Athena reached it first, peered over the short lip, and called out. A response echoed up into the calm still of the desert air.

  “Someone’s trapped down there,” Athena said as Wyatt reached her side. The interior of the pit was too dark to decipher, but he could not deny the calls for help that drifted upward.

  Murmurs rippled through the crowd, and the path Athena had cleared vanished as the hooded creatures closed around the well, encapsulating Wyatt and Athena. “What do you think you are doing, slave?” shouted one of the hoods, though it was impossible to tell which one. The crowd pulsed with murmurs of agreement.

  Athena’s body stiffened and her eyes flashed violently. “Slave? Who the fuck said that? Show yourself. Who said that?”

  “I did, slave,” said a figure, stepping from the masses.

  The creature reached the forefront of his comrades and withdrew his hood with a clawed hand. A pink and wrinkled face stared back with tiny black eyes and a short, rodent-like snout. Whiskers sprouted from beneath the wide nostrils, and over-sized square teeth hung from a tight mouth. Sparse wisps of gray hair littered an otherwise barren scalp.

  Athena’s glare wavered, but only for a moment. Wyatt held his breath, knowing better than try to interfere. “Who the fuck are you?” she shouted, spraying spittle, her hands clenched tightly at her side.

  “I am one of the Elders,” the creature said. “And you, slave, are interfering in clan business. I don’t know who you belong to—”

  Athena didn’t let him finish. Her body twitched as she half jumped, half lunged at the small creature, stopping just short of him. “Who do you think you are, you bucked-tooth fucker! I am nobody’s. And who did you bastards toss down the well?”

  The crowd gasped as one, but the Elder did not react, despite the quivering human looming a foot over his wrinkled head, shaking a fist and looking fit to use it. He held a fist of his own over his head until the crowd settled again.

  “This does not concern you, slave. I bid you leave and return from whence you came afore you are punished most severely.” The Elder’s voice was full and indignant. Clearly, he was used to being obeyed without question.

  Athena’s eyes narrowed and Wyatt cringed. He couldn’t help but to remember the blue lunch tray. “Call me slave one more fuckin’ time, old man,” she said through a set jaw.

  The Elder scowled, turned to the crowd, and said, “Let us send both of the slaves—”

  No sooner was the word spoken then Athena was upon the Elder. She drove him into the sand, swinging her fist as they descended. They hit the sand together and the crowd exploded like a wasp’s nest struck with a stick. The hooded creatures roared to life, shouting and swarming their fallen leader. And Athena.

  Athena was yelling, mostly inarticulate snarls, sprinkled wit
h off-color comments, but soon even her rage-filled voice was drowned out beneath the swarm. They mean to kill her, Wyatt realized at once. He tried to push toward her, but the mass of hooded bodies was too thick and they pushed back his clumsy attempts at rescue.

  “Hey, leave her alone,” he shouted. “I’m a Druid.” His words were nothing to the rumbling cacophony and were left unheard even to Wyatt’s own ears.

  He knew he had to act. I’m a Druid, he told himself. What would a—his hand went to the pendant at his chest and he fell to the ground, plunging his free hand into the frigid sand. He followed the whisper into the dunes, but found only grains of sand. He directed his mind this way and that, but found nothing to seize hold of. There has to be something, he thought. And then he had it. It was a queer thought that brought the Glefans to mind, but it served to remind him that the Mother was not only what lay in the ground…

  A funnel cloud descended upon the crowd with a roar, sending the hooded creatures sprawling amid a swirl of fine sand. He drove it at the spot where he knew Athena had vanished. He could sense each breath of wind and he directed it around Athena’s body. He could sense her as well, pressed tightly against the world.

  Some of the creatures were tossed violently away, others turned and ran, disappearing over the surrounding dunes. Others stumbled back, gawking, too stunned to flee. When an acceptable buffer had been established around his companion, Wyatt let the wind fall to a whisper. Sand fell like snow and an eerie silence hung in the air.

  The Elder had been tossed several feet away. The wrinkled creature climbed to his feet and slowly drew a claw at Wyatt. His mouth was twitching and a thin line of blood ran over his chin, but no sound came forth. Wyatt rose, breathing heavily. The green stone at his chest pulsed within its fist of ebony wood.

  “Druid!” someone shouted, and then pandemonium broke out.

  Cries of dismay and fear lit up the sands and those that remained fled as if their tails were afire. Some fell to their knees, appearing to beg for mercy, but were quickly dragged off by others more set on escape. In a matter of moments, the sands were silent and void of the curious creatures.

  “Holy. Shit.”

  Wyatt raced to Athena and offered her a hand. She took it and stood, wiping sand from her face and shaking it from her hair. Her t-shirt was torn in several places and dark with blood. Wyatt felt his heart shudder, but as he looked to her face he saw not a grimace but a smile.

  “Hot shit, Wy’,” she said. “You really are magic. I mean of course you are—you got us here, but…holy hell. What a fuckin’ rush! And I just thought you were really good at growing plants or whatever.”

  Wyatt couldn’t find a response, he was beaming too fiercely, but one came from deep in the well. “Hellooooooooooo,” bellowed the darkness, setting Athena to motion.

  “There’s someone down there,” she said. “There’s gotta be a rope or somethin’ to get ‘im out,” she said, nodding urgently at Wyatt.

  “It’s down here,” shouted the voice.

  Wyatt and Athena looked over the edge of the well in unison, greeted only by shadows. Wyatt shivered. “Can you throw it up here?” Athena called down.

  “Uh, I’ll try,” said the voice, then after a moment, said, “was that close?”

  Athena and Wyatt looked at each other. “I didn’t know he even threw it,” Wyatt said.

  Athena scowled. “No, you must be too deep. What else you got down there?”

  “Buckets,” called the dejected voice.

  “What else?” Athena called back.

  “Rocks. Sand.”

  “Can you climb up the sides?” Athena said.

  “The bottom is too slippery. The stone is covered by moss. I can’t climb it.”

  “Moss?” Wyatt shouted, his mind flashing awake.

  Athena looked at him quizzically, but the voice answered. “Yes, moss. At least that’s what it feels like. It happens once in a while, even out here in the Dunes. You see, the—”

  “That’s it!” Wyatt shouted.

  Athena and the voice answered in unison. “It is?”

  “Yes,” Wyatt said to both.

  He went to his knees and placed his palms against the worn stone of the well wall. With his eyes shut, he let his mind wander over the surface, toying at the cold rigidity. He let it linger for a moment then drove it deep into the sand, wandering, searching, hunting. Moss. Where are you, you wonderful substance? If he could heal a mortal wound with moss then surely he could use it to—there! The bottom of the well was thick with the marvelous stuff. He could see it in his mind. He could feel it, smell it, taste it. And he could speak to it.

  “Oh!” cried the voice in the well. “It’s, uh…hey, uh…the moss…it’s…ah!”

  Wyatt drove the whisper into the moss and as it grew he could sense the creature as well. He could sense his form, his life force. Wyatt felt a smile slide over his face. His power was growing. The fragmented cries grew louder until they breached the surface and Athena shouted, snapping Wyatt from his trance. He released the Mother’s voice and let his eyes flutter open.

  Thick, green moss wrapped around the inside of the well, nearly plugging it. Athena grabbed the small creature that stood atop it and lowered him to the sand. He fell at once to the ground, pressing his forehead to the dunes.

  Wyatt grinned and nodded at Athena. “See? They love me. All in a day’s work for a Druid.”

  Athena rolled her eyes and knelt at the creature’s side. “You don’t have to bow to him,” she said, pulling the creature upright. “What’s your name?”

  “You can call me Tug.” Fine, sand-colored fur covered Tug’s face and head, short and coarse. His eyes were small and beady, but held an electric energy, blazing bright green. His nose wrinkled as he looked from Athena to Wyatt and back again. His over-sized front teeth hung nearly to his chin.

  “What are you?” Wyatt asked.

  Before Tug could answer, Athena interrupted. “Don’t be rude, Wy’. Those dicks tossed the poor guy in well. Have some compassion.”

  Tug waved a clawed hand, and shook his head, his drooping ears shaking loose about his head. “It is quite all right. It is said that the Druid is not from the Realms.” He turned to Wyatt and bowed. “I am a Sand Shrew, as is my father and his father before him and his father before him and his—”

  Wyatt wrinkled his nose. “You don’t look like a shrew.”

  Athena elbowed him sharply in the ribs. “If he says he’s a shrew than he’s a shrew,” she hissed from the corner of her mouth.

  Tug shook his head again. “Oh, you meant my race. I am sorry, Master.” He bowed. “I am tsiyyi. Tug of clan Sand Shrew.”

  “Well, nice to meet you Tug, tsiyyi of clan Sand Shrew.” Wyatt bowed.

  “It is an honor, Master.” Tug smiled, his long whiskers turning sharply upward.

  “Hey, Tug,” Athena said. “How come them other Sand Shrews threw you down a well? What the fuck’s that about?”

  Tug tilted his head and wiggled his pink nose. “Your speech is curious.”

  Wyatt elbowed Athena and shot her a look that said, how does it feel? “Oh, don’t mind Athena, Tug,” he said. “She’s not from here, either.”

  “Athena…very well. Well, it wasn’t Sand Shrews that tossed me in the well. It was the Sidewinders.”

  “Whatever,” Athena said. “Why the fu—why’d they toss you down there?”

  Wyatt smiled at her and nodded. She pursed her lips and glared back.

  “Well, uh, because of him,” Tug said, and pointed a short claw at Wyatt.

  “Me?” Wyatt said defensively. “Hey, we just got here. And we saved you.”

  Tug shook his head. “Yes, and you have my gratitude, quite eternally, I might add. But the Sidewinders threw me in the well because the water has dried up earlier than expected.”

  “I don’t get it,” Athena said. “What’s that have to do with Wy’?”

  “Well, I told them it was the Mother’s will, but they blam
e the Master.” He nodded at Wyatt. “I tried to tell them that you aren’t a monster and that it is all as it should be. Mother knows best, yes?”

  Wyatt nodded slowly in a stupor.

  “Wait,” Athena said, holding up a hand. “A monster? They think he’s a monster?” She turned to Wyatt. “Thought they loved you. Worshipped you.”

  Tug saved Wyatt from having to render a response he didn’t have. “Some still do, don’t you worry. Here in the Dunes, the Sand Shrews are still loyal and will be to the death. And then some.” He thumped his chest with a heavy claw and smiled.

  “And why do the others hate him?” Athena’s eyebrows were arched higher than Wyatt thought possible, her muddy brown eyes fixed on him. Suddenly, Wyatt felt smaller than Tug.

  The tsiyyi scratched his ear and looked at Athena, a perplexed look plastered on his small rodent face. “Not hate. Fear. Because of…well, because of Ouranos…”

  Ouranos? Wyatt’s mind lit up like a dry evergreen set to flame. “Ouranos? It was the Regency. The Lord Regent. He took her. He killed them. It was him, not me. I’m trying to save Hagion. And all of the Realms.”

  Tug looked over his shoulder, surveying the still dunes. “Perhaps it is not wise to discuss this in the open sands.” He brushed past Athena and Wyatt. “Come. It is not safe out here. You should meet the rest of the Sand Shrews. You will be safe there. I promise.”

  Athena glared at Wyatt and held out her arms, displaying a myriad of bloody gouges across her chest and arms. Wyatt winced and shrugged. “At least we know we’re in the Realms, after all.”

  Athena slapped him in the chest and walked after the diminutive tsiyyi. Wyatt watched them for a moment, unsure of how to feel. Why are they afraid of me? And where’s Rozen?

  Chapter Three

  TUG LED THEM to a wooden hovel that was little more than a mound of sand with a door affixed to one side. The ever-blowing northern wind drove the dunes against the back wall, curled it around the sides, and left only a small gap in front of the door. Smoke billowed from a tall chimney, making the structure look like submarine in a sea of sand. Along with the door, it was the only piece of the dwelling that was visible beneath the dunes. Tug slid down the short embankment, rolled, and popped upright at the door, bidding Wyatt and Athena follow with a wave and wide smile.