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

by Michael J Sanford

  He leaned over the abyss. Could I jump? His mind reminded him of the same impulse that had seized him in Ouranos, staring down the shear side of stone. He laughed silently to himself. He would have died then, but now…Could he die? He laughed again, this time audibly. The snow retreated from his warm breath. Two thousand eighteen…

  This is my world. He thought of Earth and clenched his teeth. No. He could not go back. He wouldn’t. He was nothing there. His hand pulled out the amulet, and he thought to throw it into the open air when the stone caught his eye. He pulled it close and felt something move within him. He remembered the stone as being a brilliant green, a piercing emerald. What stared back now was a muddy green, like algae growing in a shallow puddle of filth. It was muted, dimmed. It’s just this purple sun, he thought. It steals color from everything. He ran his thumb over the stone and dark wood. It was as warm as ever. He looked again to the open space hanging before him. No, he thought and replaced the amulet back beneath his sleeveless satin shirt. Three thousand twenty…

  It was not until three thousand six hundred eighty-nine that he saw the distant shape of an ascending spriteling. At four thousand nine hundred six, the freckled face drew level with his. Her wings beat strongly at the air, banishing the snow. She hovered before Wyatt, her nude form on full display, but he found he had no interest in it.

  “What took so long?” he said, his arms crossed.

  Maia giggled and alighted beside him, her wings still outstretched. “Ready?”

  The strange feeling in his gut shifted. His eyes narrowed. “It’s Master.”

  Maia nodded sharply, the smile never wavering. “Of course, Master. Are you ready? It’d be best not to leave Athena on her own for too long.”

  “All right, well let’s go then,” he said impatiently.

  Maia pressed her body against Wyatt’s. She grabbed his shoulders and froze for a moment, her face suddenly solemn and sad. She pulled back and shook her head slowly. “You have lost much, Master.”

  “What are you talking about?” Mareck, Gareck, Grenleck, Omman, Tug…Grandmother…He winced, but set his jaw and remained stalwart.

  “You are full of pain. As is Athena.” Maia looked close to tears. “Is your world so hurtful? And for those so young?”

  Wyatt frowned. “We going or what?” His temper burned just below the surface. It was not an emotion he frequently experienced, but now it threatened to split him apart. “This is my world,” he said.

  Maia nodded and wrapped her arms tightly around Wyatt’s torso. Her wings beat the air and she wrapped her legs around his. Wyatt hugged back and then he was falling. Cold air bit at his face, but he could not arrest his gaze from the streaking snow and forest below.

  Maia laughed shrilly as they soared downward like a stone. The distant green grew steadily as they descended with breakneck speed. Maia’s skin was warm and inviting as Wyatt pulled tighter against the petite creature. The air tore away his rage and he found himself smiling, the wind quickly peeling back his lips.

  Drawing nearer, Wyatt could see the trees below were pines. Thick branches and fine needles sparkled beneath the falling snow and dull twinkle of the violet sun. In another moment, he could see the reason for their sparkle. The pines were encased in ice.

  “Hold on,” Maia said.

  Her wings extended fully and Wyatt was nearly wrenched from her hold as the air caught the wide wings and dramatically slowed their descent. A sharp gasp escaped his lungs and he dug his fingers into the spriteling’s soft flesh. She squeaked in response as they banked sharply to the right. They rolled unsteadily to one side. Maia grunted and beat at the air, righting them, but Wyatt could see the frozen pines growing. We’re falling too fast, he realized.

  Maia groaned, beating frantically at the air and twisting to the side. They halted just above the frozen forest. Wyatt breathed a sigh of relief as they hovered over the sea of frozen green. Maia’s wings were fluttering with immense power and speed, but as Wyatt leaned back to look at her he saw that it was not going to be enough. Her face was awash in sweat and contorted with effort.

  Maia twisted into a controlled glide and plunged into the frozen canopy. Wyatt yelped involuntarily as frozen needles shattered around them. Darkness swallowed them as they fell. A thick branch struck Wyatt in the back, sending bolts of pain radiating from his torn skin. Maia yanked on his shoulders and he could hear her wings buffet the air. They hung for another moment before the tight confines forced Maia to close her wings again.

  They fell in fit and starts, bouncing from branch to branch, Maia using her wings when there was room. A trail of frozen needles descended alongside them. Wyatt tensed his body and ducked his head against Maia’s neck. Needles stabbed at his exposed skin and the thick scent of fresh sap invaded his nostrils. It made him think of holidays with his grandmother, but the warm sensation only lasted a moment before a branch cracked into his skull and sent his senses scattering.

  He shook his head, seeking to eradicate the blossoming colors and dull throb of pain. Something cold and wet pressed against his back, and dampness covered his face. He coughed and sat up. The air tasted sweet and fragrant.

  “Athena!” Maia’s voice floated through the darkness and cleared the rest of the shadows from his vision.

  Rising, Wyatt found himself standing on the forest floor, mammoth pines towering hundreds of feet overhead and a dense fog licking at his thighs. He shook his head. It throbbed in response. He hadn’t remembered landing, but a quick survey of his limbs told him that he was not seriously injured. The ground was soft and wet, cold mud quickly soaking through his fur boots. But it was warmer than it had been in Hagion, and though the upper canopy of the pine forest was encased in ice, the lower half of the forest was filled with an impervious damp.

  “Athena!”

  Wyatt could see Maia’s grass-clad head twisting and turning a few strides away, her elegant wings fanning away the fog. He rushed to her side as she continued to yell Athena’s name.

  “What’s wrong?” he said. “Where is she?”

  Maia whirled on him, her normally cheery face downcast. Her lip trembled. “I left her right here,” she said firmly, and then began to whip her head around again, surveying the twisting fog and silent evergreens.

  Wyatt eyed his surroundings as well. He had thought the trees of the Shadow Forest enormous, but the pines around him now were much larger, most more than two dozen feet across. The high, dense canopy hid most of the day’s sun, allowing only a few fragmented rays to penetrate, only to be absorbed by the dense fog that covered the ground. He squinted upward, expecting to see millions of buzzing wisps, but saw none. Nothing to guide us here, he thought.

  “Are you sure this is where you left her? Everything looks the same to me. How can you tell?”

  Maia twisted sharply, fanning her wings to displace the fog. She pointed at the unveiled base of a thick pine. Wyatt followed the gesture and thought to question her again when he saw it. There, stuck to the bark with thick sap, was a small clump of vibrantly red hair. The color was too bright and uniform to be anything but the bleached and dyed locks of Wyatt’s human companion. His heart dropped and his hands curled into fists.

  “What happened?” he growled. “What did you do?”

  The spriteling shook her head, her soft voice transforming into a dark and melodic tune.

  In Gazaria, along its bank

  Lies a forest of pine dark and dank

  Enter not this place of damp and fog

  For it will consume all like a foul bog

  High in the canopy overhead

  The wicked elves do tread

  Boiled meat and roasted bone

  Is all that will remain should you enter alone

  They feast on the rich and poor alike

  And fret not the most fearsome spike

  So, if you stumble upon the Gazarian pines

  You’ll live not long enough to hear this last—

  “Elves? Why’d you leave her here
if it’s that dangerous?”

  Maia shook her head and folded her wings against her back. She was breathing hard. “I didn’t know. There are thousands of songs from every realm and every race, but so few are true. I didn’t think…”

  “Well, elves and a haunted forest or not,” Wyatt said, watching the fog slowly swallow the tuft of red hair. “Something happened. We have to find her.” I won’t have another friend taken from me.

  Wyatt looked to Maia and found her staring back, her face a blank slate. “Well?” he said. “Do you know any songs about finding these elves?”

  Maia frowned for a moment and then began to sing. Only a single note caught the air before a sharp cluster of black feathers seemed to blossom from the spriteling’s neck. It stood in stark contrast to her pale, freckled skin, but soon disappeared along with the rest of her, swallowed by the fog. Her small body let out a muted thwack as it hit the wet ground.

  Wyatt’s eyes bulged and he stood motionless for a few moments, listening to the forest. A distant blur of movement broke his stupor and he whirled about erratically. Something was out there, in the fog, and it was coming for him. His pulse raced and a cold sweat broke across his forehead. Another glimpse of dark movement broke the still scene. He thought it looked like a creature in a dark hood, but he had little time to further think on it. There was a sharp pain in his neck and the world slowly faded, turning to fog.

  Chapter Thirteen

  WYATT BLINKED HIS eyes and sat up. Then he rubbed them and blinked again. He could feel rough wood beneath him, and bright colors danced in front of his eyes, twisting and turning in odd directions, but nothing made sense. He wasn’t where he should have been. It took him several more minutes before he figured out that what he was staring at was the colored jungle gym of The Shepherd’s Crook, home for the behaviorally disturbed.

  “Not my home,” he grumbled to himself as he carefully shifted atop the worn picnic table.

  He sat a few more moments in silence, trying to sort out the jumble of thoughts that bounced around his mind. He should have been upset, having been sent back to Earth without having known his amulet had even awoken. But he wasn’t. He sighed and leaned back on his hands. The cool and splintered wood granted him some measure of stability as he centered his thoughts. He had long ago stopped trying to control the amulet that sent him between Earth and the Realms, but perhaps that would come in time.

  The night was deep and dark, only a sliver of moon darting between wispy clouds. A chilled wind swirled through the playing field, but compared to the desert wind of the Dunes, it felt warm. A nearby streetlight flickered and buzzed at even intervals, hypnotizing Wyatt. Something about it reminded him of the wisps in the Shadow Forest that first greeted him when he crossed between worlds. But that also reminded him of Rozen. And his failure.

  “Hey, easy. It’s just me.”

  Wyatt started and turned at the voice. Ms. Abagail smiled sweetly and took a seat next to him. She glanced to the table between them and Wyatt saw his fist pressed into the table. Withdrawing the hand, he saw blood flow from cuts along his knuckles. He hadn’t even realized what he’d done. It was foolish to pretend like what had happened in the Dunes didn’t bother him. It was just one more failure on a list of mistakes. I’m just not strong enough, he thought. Not yet.

  “Sorry,” he said, and wiped the blood onto his pant leg.

  Ms. Abagail sighed loudly and leaned back onto her elbows, turning her face to the clouds. Wyatt glanced at her and saw her eyes were closed. And she was smiling.

  “Aren’t you scared of me?”

  Ms. Abagail laughed and looked at him. The pink stripe in her hair flickered with the flashing streetlight. Her eyes gleamed, but Wyatt could see something deeper in the muted brown than Ms. Abagail was willing to let on to.

  “Why would I be afraid of you, Wyatt?”

  “Because of what I can do. You’ve seen the power. And you’ve seen the shadows that are chasing me.” Death and shadows. He felt his hand clench into a fist again, but he stayed it with a grunt.

  “I know you think it was real, Wyatt, but—”

  “Don’t say it!” he shouted. Then with a deep breath said, “Sorry. But it’s real. And you know it now, too. You saw them. The shadows. And my amulet activated right in front of you.”

  Ms. Abagail sighed and sat up. She was no longer smiling. “I know it feels real. And I know you think you can go to another world, and maybe you do. In a way. Sometimes our minds do funny things to protect us.”

  Wyatt was too tired to form another fist or feel angry. Instead he leaned forward and buried his head in his hands. “I thought you’d understand. Especially after earlier.”

  “I do. Just not in the way you think. And I haven’t seen you in over a week.” She laughed, but Wyatt knew it was forced. She wanted to lighten the mood. Wyatt squeezed his temples. The darkness remained. And with it…

  “They know me. I don’t know how to explain it, but the shadows know me.”

  “And do you know them?”

  He shook his head and groaned as a headache pulsed to life, sending lightning across the backs of his eyes. Somewhere—whether in the sky or his head, he didn’t know which—thunder echoed. It passed after a moment and he was able to open his eyes with a grimace. He shook his head. “No, but they know me. They’ve been stalking me since I can remember, but they never looked like…Death and shadows. Shadows and death. Death and—”

  “And what’s that mean?” Ms. Abagail cut in with a gentle hand on his arm. Suddenly, it didn’t hurt quite so much to have his eyes open.

  “I don’t know. Nothing good,” he said. “I think they want me dead. Like the Regency wants Rozen. And whoever took Athena wants—”

  “We still don’t know where she is.”

  “I left her in Gazaria. But I didn’t mean to. That’s my fault too. Just like Rozen. And Gareck and Mareck, Grenleck, Omman, Tug. Gah, this stupid gift or whatever it is isn’t powerful enough to protect them.”

  “You’re not going to tell me where Athena really is, are you?”

  Wyatt stared into Ms. Abagail’s eyes and frowned. “You know where she is,” he said firmly. She flinched for just a moment, almost imperceptibly. “I will get stronger. And I will save her. From…whatever.”

  Ms. Abagail nodded and smiled, but it was full of sorrow and pain. Even Wyatt could see that. A deep stab of guilt laced his heart and he had to look away.

  After a few moments of silence had passed, he turned back, but didn’t make eye contact. It was too difficult to look at her. She was the only one that looked out for him at the Crook and yet she couldn’t admit to what he knew she had seen with her own eyes. At least she’s still here, he thought. With me.

  “They’re going to send me away, aren’t they?” he said, already accepting the inevitable answer.

  Ms. Abagail sighed again, and for a moment, Wyatt thought he could feel the sorrow drift off her body like the fog he had left in the pines. “Yeah, Wyatt. But it will just be for a time. Hopefully. Though that’s up to you, ultimately.”

  He nodded. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t strong enough to save those he cared about, but the amulet was plenty strong enough to whisk him from Earth at any moment, so it didn’t matter where he was. “When?”

  “In the morning. Mr. Gerald made the call as soon as we saw you sitting out here.”

  He nodded again and stood.

  Ms. Abagail tensed, but quickly gathered herself. Wyatt had to smile. “It’s okay, Ms. Abby, if I was going anywhere, you couldn’t stop me anyway. And I’d never hurt you.”

  “I know,” she said, standing as well.

  Wyatt stretched his arms out to his side, took one last look at the night sky, and turned to the twenty-something woman with a shock of pink in her otherwise jet hair. “I’m ready for bed.”

  “Just like that?”

  Wyatt shrugged. “No point in fighting it, is there?”

  “Nope.”

  He stared at h
er a moment, trying to decipher her expression. At times Ms. Abagail confounded him more than anyone else in either world. “I’ll miss you,” he said before he could stop himself.

  She smiled and put an arm around his shoulders, not unlike Maia had done with her wings to ward off the cold. Ms. Abagail said nothing and Wyatt thought that for the best. What could words accomplish?

  And together, they walked back to dorm B.

  Chapter Fourteen

  GREENWOOD HOSPITAL SAT atop a hill, surrounded by dense pines. The road leading up to it was more holes than dirt, and jostled Wyatt relentlessly as he stared out the window of the dorm van. He tried to distance himself from his surroundings, but as they neared the peak and came into full view of the gothic structure it became impossible to ignore the sense of dread that pulsed within his belly. The pine forest looked so much like that which he had left in Gazaria that he felt himself glancing about haphazardly, waiting for some unseen elf to attack.

  “So, if you stumble upon the Gazarian pines, you’ll not live long enough to hear this last—”

  “What’s that, Wyatt?” Ms. Abagail said, turning over her shoulder as she pulled into the barren lot in front of the looming fortress that would be his new home.

  “Just something I wish I hadn’t heard.” He shivered despite the warmth of the new morning sun as he stepped out of the van.

  Ms. Abagail circled around the front of the vehicle and stood by his side, craning to take in the full sight of Greenwood. “Spooky.”

  “Thanks,” Wyatt said with a smile.

  Ms. Abagail grinned back. “Oh, it’ll be fine. And it’s just for a short while. I’m sure you’ll be back on dorm in no time.”

  “Uh huh,” Wyatt said.

  A fluttering curtain on the top floor caught his attention and he found himself staring up at a small face a hundred feet above him. It was hard to tell much about the figure, but he waved nonetheless. It felt like the right thing to do. As he did, an object spun out from the window and hurtled toward him. He let out an involuntary and undignified yelp and narrowly avoided being brained by a stuffed bear that now looked up at him from the dirt. It was missing an eye and its right arm. Some of the fur looked singed, and it smelled.