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

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The Druid's Guise: The Complete Trilogy (The Druid's Guise Trilogy) Page 46

by Michael J Sanford


  “So, we can go?” he said, looking at the many cold eyes that crowded the cavern.

  Fae’Herot nodded. “Remember what I said. The elves are a foul plague upon this world, but I should wish for a fair battle. Let them prepare. And should I find either of you there when I arrive, I will dice you into countless pieces and feed you to the forest.”

  As if responding to some unspoken command the Fae took to the air as a single entity. The cavern air filled with the numbing buzz of a thousand sets of wings and in another moment, it was still.

  Wyatt looked uneasily at the headless corpse and then to the now empty cavern lined with silent holes. Athena doubled over, her hands on her knees, and began coughing violently. Wyatt placed a hand on her back, but she twisted away, waving a hand. The coughing turned to retching. Wyatt turned away as she spat and struggled to regain composure.

  “I am gonna to kill that son of a bitch,” she said.

  “D’orca?” Wyatt asked, though he knew the answer.

  Athena spat and picked up the long sword. The cut had been so quick and clean that the blade remained untarnished. She looked intently at Wyatt, her eyes full of vitriol, and then strode for the exit.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  THE ELVES THAT had escorted them to the cavern were as they had been left. If they noticed the strange sack that Wyatt carried, they gave no indication as Athena and Wyatt climbed from the calm pond and approached them.

  “Take us to D’orca,” Athena demanded, brandishing her new blade.

  The elves turned and began walking back into the pine forest with nary a sound or other motion. Athena grunted, braced the blade over her shoulder and stomped after them. Wyatt looked at the laden sack in his hand, shuddered and did the same.

  The way back seemed far shorter to Wyatt, but the head he was carrying provided a fair amount of distraction. Nonetheless, the silent elves stopped abruptly at a spot no more remarkable than any other. The fog had faded some, only kissing their ankles with faint tendrils.

  Athena unslung her sword and thrust it into the ground. “Well, where is he? I’ve got a present for him.” She looked at the sack and then added, “Actually, I’ve got two presents.”

  The elves remained stalwart, hands clasped in front of their ragged black robes. Wyatt could see Athena fuming and thought for a moment he could see steam curl from her dark skin, but shivering, he realized the air had grown colder. He coughed nervously and his breath frosted the air.

  “I said—” Athena couldn’t get the rest of the words out as the ground shifted below them.

  Wyatt lost his balance and fell to his knees. A thick layer of pine needles jumped and shook atop a wooden platform that rose steadily into the air. He hadn’t even noticed the ropes running down the trunk of four thick pines, but now they were taut, lifting the party high into the canopy.

  They jerked to a stop and Wyatt peered over the edge, but was unable to determine how high they were. Certainly, higher than they had been strung up before, he thought.

  “Holy shit,” Athena said, bringing Wyatt to her side, sack clutched tightly in his hand.

  The crude elevator rested against another wooden platform that turned into a wide street traveling throughout the sprawling branches. Little of the surrounding pines could be seen as the space was filled with crude wooden buildings built into every nook and cranny. Some of the buildings rose multiple stories into the canopy and Wyatt could see additional walkways above them.

  “It’s a city,” Wyatt said airily.

  Their elven guides moved off the platform and headed down the middle of the strange avenue seated high in the pine forest. Athena cursed again and followed after, leaving Wyatt to catch up.

  Torches burned brightly along the outer walls of the buildings and after a dozen steps Wyatt could no longer tell they were walking hundreds of feet above the forest floor. It looked every bit a village. Glass windows blanketed the buildings through which heads peered out, eyeing the strange procession. Some elves wandered the street as well, but they moved quickly to the side to allow passage as Wyatt stumbled past in awe.

  “Are those humans, Father?” said a small and shirtless elf, tugging on the hem of a larger, bearded male.

  The father whispered something to the child and ushered him aside, careful to keep his eyes downcast. Wyatt looked at the child and smiled. The elf grinned and waved excitedly back at him. Would he be so excited if he knew what I carried in my sack?

  The wooden street twisted and turned, and rose and fell at strange intervals, no doubt dancing around the pine branches that largely lay hidden behind the façade of the elven village. After some walking, they reached an exposed trunk. It burst from the street, a twisting wooden staircase wrapped around its trunk. Wordlessly, the silent elves took to the steps and Wyatt and Athena followed close behind. As they wound around the first spiral, Wyatt looked back over the village. The street had filled with elves of all sizes and shapes. They watched intently and whispered to one another as Wyatt climbed ever skyward.

  The staircase passed through another street filled with watchful eyes and towering buildings. Then another. And another. The staircase terminated on the fifth level and spilled onto a far more modest village street. It contained only one building, though it was much larger and more elaborate than any of the others Wyatt had seen. The forest was visible at this level and it grew thickly around the giant, square building. Wide metal bowls flanked oversized doors, each alive with fire. The warmth washed over Wyatt from a dozen strides away and as they passed into the building it was enough to make him sweat.

  “I assume this is the boss’s house,” Athena said through clenched teeth. Wyatt watched as her fingers twisted around the swords grip.

  The door they entered opened into a large and airy room. Tapestries and murals coated the walls and a balcony wrapped around three sides, forty feet in the air. Curving staircases joined the floors at both ends and the silent elves each took one.

  Wyatt looked at Athena. She nodded, her brow deeply furrowed, and climbed the left staircase. Wyatt adjusted his hold on the sack and took the right. They met in the middle of the balcony platform facing a long wooden table piled high with food and drink, much of which Wyatt could not identify, though the scent that hung in the air made him salivate.

  D’orca the Wise sat at the center, facing them, atop a high throne of carved wood and soft, red velvet. He was no longer wearing his ragged robe and, from Wyatt could see over the table, appeared completely nude. His chest was equally as hair-covered as his head and face, creating the illusion that he was not an elf, but a bear.

  The furry elf spread his arms wide and grinned, but before he could speak, Athena charged, bellowing a string of curses that Wyatt had trouble understanding. She vaulted atop the table, scattering bowls and goblets, swinging the sword as she did. She skidded to a stop in front of D’orca and pressed the sword tip to his throat. The elven leader’s arms were still outstretched and he maintained the smile.

  “Where is Maia?” Athena screamed. “If you ate her, I swear to God or the Mother or whatever you worship that I will make you bleed from the most uncomfortable places.”

  “Athena,” said a voice from the end of the table.

  Wyatt followed the melodic voice and saw a freckled head topped with a strange grass-like tussle of hair pop up. Athena turned to the side as well, the sword tip falling away from D’orca, who continued to grin like a madman.

  “Maia?” Athena said, surprised. She turned back to look at D’orca, then dropped the sword and ran across the table. She dropped in front of the spriteling and seized her in a fierce embrace.

  Wyatt approached from around the end of the table and patted Maia on the back. It was an awkward gesture, he knew, but the thought of hugging her was beyond him.

  Athena pulled back to examine Maia. The spriteling smiled back, none the worse for wear.

  “Very good,” cried D’orca. “Reunions are ever so sweet.”

  The voice
seemed to light a fuse at the base of Athena’s spine for she went rigid, a scowl shading her face. She grabbed the sack from Wyatt’s hand and whirled on the elven leader.

  “Here’s what you sent us for,” she snarled and flung the sack at D’orca.

  The burlap sack, stained with blood, hit the elf in the chest. He gingerly peered inside and groaned. “How unfortunate,” he said.

  “That’s all you have to say?” Athena shouted.

  “It was to be expected. Though I fear if the Fae have sent ye back to me with…this,” D’orca said, setting the sack aside, “then the problem has yet to be resolved.”

  “Oh, and that bitch, Fae’Herot, or whatever, said to tell you that the pines will run red with your blood,” Athena said, spitting the words like venom. “And now we’re leaving.”

  Athena turned and slid back over the table, sending a cascade of dishes to the floor. Wyatt was all too eager to follow. If D’orca had a hunger for human flesh, he didn’t intend to provide the satiety.

  “Athena, Master Wyatt,” Maia called when they had reached the top of the stairs.

  Wyatt turned, unaware that the spriteling was not following. “Com’n, Maia,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “We mustn’t.”

  “Motherfucker,” Athena screamed, stomping back to the table. She glared at D’orca and jabbed a finger at Maia. “We did your little errand. Now give back our friend and let us leave. That was the deal.”

  D’orca laughed and scratched at his chest. “Ah, this is the trouble with spreading dangerous stories of the Coven. Should the Coven wish to entertain guests…well…” He gestured at Athena.

  “Wait,” Wyatt said, his mind spinning. “So, you don’t eat people?”

  D’orca laughed again and pulled on his long beard. “Mercy, no. That is but a bit of deception spread throughout the Realms to…well, to pay for our desired solitude.”

  “I don’t give a fuck,” Athena bellowed. “Sendin’ us to that cave was some grade A bullshit and we’re leavin’.”

  “Ye are free to go as ye please,” D’orca said. “A deal is a deal, though I ask that ye use your discretion as to our true nature. Solitude and all.”

  “No,” Maia said. Her wings unfolded and carried her over the table to stand between her human companions. She now wore a makeshift shirt, fashioned from what looked to be the same robes the elves wore, cut and tied to allow the spriteling’s back to remain bare. “We must help the Coven.”

  Athena’s entire body twitched violently, so Wyatt stepped in. “Why would we help them?” Wyatt whispered, hoping to avoid the ire of the elven leader. He still wasn’t certain that his marrow was not on the menu.

  “I was wrong,” Maia said. “The stories and songs are false, just as he says. The elves are a peaceful lot, though I will admit, very dishonest, but they mean well. It is the Fae that are the monsters."

  “They tied us up and then sent us to our death,” Athena said, her voice dropping to a whisper as well. Wyatt eyed her hands and saw they still quivered with suppressed rage.

  “As I said—dishonest. It’s just their nature. It cannot be helped, but it should not also doom them. D’orca sent you, hoping to preserve a tenuous peace.”

  “D’ynda said otherwise,” Wyatt said. “That’s D’orca’s son’s head in that sack. That hairy elf wants war.”

  “Did my son happen to divulge his moniker?” D’orca called out.

  Wyatt slapped a hand to his mouth, not intending to have spoken so loudly.

  “I suspect as not,” D’orca continued. “The Silken. For his smooth tongue. D’ynda the Silken. I trust ye can gather the magnitude of his skill for an elf to name one as such.”

  “Why should we believe you?” Wyatt shot back, quite to his own surprise.

  “And why should we care?” Athena added.

  D’orca shrugged. “Perhaps ye shouldn’t, but loyal creatures such as yourself deserve a bit of truth.”

  “We deserve more than just a bit.”

  D’orca nodded sharply at Athena. “Yes, I suppose ye are right.” He gestured to the empty chairs at his side. “Please, won’t ye join me?”

  Athena moved to spit a hasty response, but Maia halted her with a hand to the shoulder. She looked at Athena a moment, and then turned to lock eyes with Wyatt. “Master, we must help if we can. Is that not a Druid’s duty?”

  Wyatt thought on it. I determine what my duty is or isn’t. He meant to verbalize his callous thought, but his eyes caught Athena’s. Instead he said, “What do you think, Athena?”

  He knew Athena’s opinion held more sway with the spriteling and expected her to readily agree with his own desires. “You sure about this, Maia?” she said, her voice markedly softer than it had been.

  The spriteling nodded. “They are a wonderful race,” she said. “I was released as soon as you departed. I have been treated well and fairly.”

  Athena nodded and then shrugged. “Okay, we stay then. If they really are decent… things, then we should help. Wyatt?”

  Wyatt was powerless to refuse the headstrong teen and he knew it. He nodded and turned to D’orca, a familiar confidence boiling within him. “All right. I will stay and protect the Coven, who just a moment ago was our sworn enemy, but is now our friend.”

  “We,” Athena corrected. Maia smiled and clapped her hands together excitedly.

  “Wonderful,” D’orca said. “Please, sit. ye must tell me of what occurred with the Fae.”

  They sat along the laden table and began to recount their brief tale when a young elf bounded up the stairs. Long pants covered his legs and thick hair matted his chest. His hair held half a dozen colored feathers and a bushy mustache hung below his hooked nose.

  “D’orca the Wise,” he said, sliding to a knee. “There are reports of faeries in the outer pines.”

  D’orca grunted, but displayed no outward emotion. “It seems our friend Fae’Herot has wasted no time. Curse my son.”

  “You’ve fought the Fae before, right?” Wyatt asked.

  D’orca nodded and tugged on his beard. “Countless times, for generations. Innumerable skirmishes throughout the pines, but never here. And never with such force. I fear my son’s desire has ruined us all.”

  “What do you mean? I thought D’ynda wanted peace?” Wyatt said.

  “No, dummy,” Athena said, slapping him on the back of the head. “He did it for a girl.”

  D’orca nodded solemnly. Wyatt rubbed his head and glared at Athena, but he knew she was right. “Fae’Nula?”

  “They met during a skirmish in the north,” D’orca said. “He convinced her to abandon the fray and pledged to love her and bring our peoples together. Right then and there, the fool.”

  “That’s kinda sweet, actually,” Athena said.

  “Heh. If it was not to cause the death of so many, perhaps. I told him that the Fae would never accept such a…such an abomination, and that it was likely to cause…our current circumstance. I wish it would have been different, but…”

  “He thought he could sweet talk Fae’Herot just like he did Fae’Nula, didn’t he?” Wyatt said, putting the pieces together.

  “They don’t call him the Silken for nothing, but alas…the Fae are a different sort of creature. A violent, warrior race. And they despise any who are not like them. But we had a tenuous peace agreement in place. And outside of the odd skirmish, the Fae upheld it.” D’orca sighed and rose from his seat. Wyatt was relieved to see he was wearing pants. A wide leather belt wrapped around his narrow waist, cluttered with pouches of various sizes.

  The elven leader turned to the mustachioed young elf that remained kneeling in the middle of the platform. “What say ye? Have we time?”

  “Nightfall. Perhaps a bit later.”

  “That can’t give us more than a couple hours to prepare,” Wyatt said, trying to remember where the violet sun was positioned when they had left the Fae’s cave.

  “Ye truly mean to fight alongside the Coven?�
��

  Athena nodded, Maia clasped her hands together, fluttered her wings and smiled. Wyatt stood tall, saying, “Of course. A Druid never abandons a creature in need. May the Mother guide our blades.”

  D’orca laughed. “Ye’ll not find any blades in the Coven, save for that piece of silver your female brought back.”

  “First off,” Athena blurted. “I am not his female. And second, what do you mean you have no blades? Do you at least have some armor or something I can wear?” She gestured dramatically at the ripped pink pajama pants and roughspun robe she wore.

  “Those that wear armor expect to be struck,” D’orca said with a wicked smile.

  “I’ve seen those Fae things,” Athena said. “I expect there will be a lot of strikin’ goin’ on. If I’m goin’ to fight some weird flying things I want proper equipment.”

  “Hey, I fly,” Maia said, pouting.

  “I didn’t mean you.”

  “Go to the third level,” the furred elf said. “In the intersection ye will find our tanner, D’moiygan. He will outfit ye as best he can.”

  “What about you?” Wyatt asked. “Without weapons, how will you fight?”

  D’orca laughed, walked around the table to stand in front of the Druid, and held up a small black sphere between two fingers. “I said ye’ll not find a blade here. I never said we were without weapons.”

  Wyatt’s eyes went to the sphere, his mind racing with a million fantastic possibilities. “What’s—”

  A sharp concussion and subsequent cloud of thick, acrid smoke severed Wyatt’s words and sent him stumbling to the side, coughing and choking. Maia and Athena hit the ground as well. Athena was cursing. Maia was gagging. It took several moments for the smoke to clear and when it did, Wyatt found the platform entirely void of elves. He blinked against the lingering haze and stumbled to the top of the stairs. The entire building was barren save for the three stunned mercenaries.

  “Deception,” Wyatt said with a laugh that turned into a cough. “That’s their weapon.”

 

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