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

by Michael J Sanford

  * * *

  Wyatt knew that Athena and the elves were heading west, to find the Gazarian tribes. How far away that was, or even in what direction west was, he couldn’t be certain. The great pine forest blocked all wind and sun. It was a world unto its own. A world within a world. And one that had Wyatt thoroughly bewitched.

  He had thought getting down to the forest floor would have been the difficult part, but now that he had done that—after taking several minutes to figure out how to work the only surviving lift—he was stymied.

  He spun in circles for what felt like hours, trying to discern a clue as to where he should travel. His body still crackled with the power he had stolen from the fire, and, physically, he felt like there was nothing that could best him. In fact, he was hungry for an encounter with the Regency. Mentally, however, he was winded.

  Numerous times he had begun walking in one direction only to grow anxious and choose another. Now, far from where he had started, he was more lost than when he had begun.

  Infuriated at the impasse, Wyatt struck the nearest tree. It tore the skin from his knuckles. The pain sparked a deeper fury and he lunged at the behemoth, grabbing the rough bark with both hands. He squeezed his eyes shut and yelled with all that he had as his mind grabbed at the many threads of life dancing within the tree.

  Maniacally, he consumed the tree’s life. It groaned in protest, but Wyatt continued to yell and take from wood. A large section of the tree crumbled to dust in his grip and he faltered, having been pushing with all his worth against the tree that had been solid a moment before. He twisted, grabbed for it, found only air, and hit the ground just as the giant tree began to do the same.

  Wyatt scrambled away and watched as the tree slowly fell, knocking aside its lesser brethren until its journey was halted by one of its greater. The massive piece of timber leaned at a steep angle, its peak still invisible, far in the distance.

  Wyatt took several panicked breaths before he was calm enough to climb to his knees.

  He turned his face to the hidden sky and yelled. He screamed until his voice was hoarse and his fury turned to desperation and shame. Then he sobbed and fell onto his hands.

  He stared at the thick carpet of pine needles, watching his tears silently fall to rest among them. Eventually his sobs quieted and his anger returned, calmly waiting below the surface. Wyatt stood, drew Rozen’s dagger, and tossed it spinning into the air.

  “Mother, tell me where to find them.”

  The dagger fell to the ground, landing point first, and burying itself up to the hilt in the soft soil. Wyatt stared at it incredulously.

  “I’ll spin you until I get an answer” he said as he stooped to pick the weapon up.

  As he grabbed the handle, a spectral hand of black shadows reached from the ground and seized his wrist. Its grip was vise-like and ice-cold. He pulled against it.

  A dark shape rose from the ground as Wyatt pulled. As it broke the surface, it released Wyatt and sent him sprawling. The pine needles muffled his fall.

  “Mom?” he said as a soft face materialized from the inky shadows.

  She nodded, her head cocked to the side, dark eyes full of concern. And caring. The rest of her body remained clouded in the shifting shadows. She was no more than he had seen her before, though she was alone this time.

  “What are you doing here?” he said. “This is the Realms. You don’t belong here.” He wasn’t even sure why he had said it, and he was immediately ashamed at the bitter indifference in his voice.

  “Neither do you, Wy’,” she said quietly. “This is not your place. Come home.”

  “Home?” Wyatt nearly shouted. “I have no home! Not Earth, not here. I don’t belong anywhere. And now you want to show me who you are and act like you care? You’ve been torturing me for years. And for what? To finally show yourself and act like…act like a mom?”

  His mother’s expression remained fixed as if she was not capable of showing any emotion other than her current looked of restrained pity. “I am as I need to be,” she said calmly.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Wyatt asked, growing increasingly belligerent. He was tired of being toyed with. “And just because you say you’re my mom doesn’t mean you are. Maybe everyone’s right. Maybe I am just a nut-bag.”

  “I didn’t wish to torment you, but we had to. We had to ensure that you reached the proper destination at the proper time in the proper state.”

  Wyatt’s anger abated enough for a sliver of curiosity to slip in. “Proper destination? You mean here?” He gestured to the forest and the greater Realms beyond.

  She shook her head. “No. Not this place, though it too has its purpose.”

  “Then you mean the Crook?”

  Again, the shadowy visage of his mother shook her head. “No, that was merely a stepping stone.”

  “Then what are you talking—”

  She nodded as realization dawned on Wyatt, having come to the only remaining answer. “Greenwood?” he asked, though she had already gestured that it was so. “But why? What’s so important about Greenwood?”

  “Nothing.”

  Wyatt felt a cold shiver race down his spine. “Can’t you just give me a straight answer? What do you want from me? Really? You want to know why I killed you? Well, I don’t know. I don’t know anything about my life before the Crook. None of it makes sense and now my life here, in the Realms, is all sideways too.”

  “But you wish to remember?”

  Wyatt hesitated and then nodded.

  She smiled. “And that is why you see me as I am now. Because you want to remember.”

  Wyatt felt his jaw tighten. “You have tortured me all this time because you wanted me to want to remember my past?”

  “That is part of it, yes.”

  “And the other part?”

  Wyatt’s mother smiled, but said nothing. Her lower body began to slowly slide back into the ground.

  “Wait!” Wyatt shouted, grabbing for her. “What’s the other part? And who’s the Bad Man? Why won’t he show himself?”

  Wyatt had hold of his mother’s spectral wrists, and though they felt solid enough, he could do nothing to stop her ill-timed retreat into the soil. “Don’t go. I do want to remember and I do want to know. What does the Bad Man want? Is he like you and Dad?”

  Just as his mother’s shoulders vanished into the damp forest floor, she said, “No. That one is something else. He does not wish you to be together.”

  Wyatt grabbed at the dirt in vain as the last of her head disappeared from sight. “What does that mean?” he bellowed. “Answer me!”

  The forest held its breath as Wyatt pummeled the ground relentlessly until the strength left his arms. Exhausted, he sat back on his heels and tried to catch his breath. Everything his mother had said echoed through his head. It was too much. He wanted to remember, but every audience he had with the spectral beings, whether they were kin or not, was taxing. He had spent so long wishing them to leave him alone and now he wanted answers from them. They continued to refuse him on both accounts.

  Worse than that, however, was his mother’s admittance that the Bad Man was not in league with her or Wyatt’s father. And though it still made Wyatt queasy to think of trusting the pair of shades, the Bad Man truly was something else entirely. He had never felt more hate and malice then when he’d been in the creature’s grasp.

  Wyatt shuddered, but steeled himself with a deep breath. The Regency, he thought, looking for something to focus on. Something more straight forward.

  “Where are you hiding?” he asked the forest, standing and brushing himself off. As he did, he noticed a deep mark scored in the dirt of the forest. Wyatt’s tantrum had displaced the needles from all around him. And there, carved into the dirt was an arrow.

  He studied it in wonder. Then he laughed.

  “Thanks, Mom,” he whispered as he took to the arrow’s instruction.

  Chapter Forty

  WYATT REACHED THE edge of the forest
just as the sun bid its final farewell to the world and disappeared below a mountainous horizon. A vast expanse of open plains greeted him in the twilight. Tall grass danced under the winds guidance, and a biting chill wrapped its arms around the beleaguered Druid. He shivered and wrapped his arms across his bare chest. The embedded gemstone was warm, but couldn’t take the edge off the wind.

  He had traveled for what felt like an entire day, trusting that every step was taken in the right direction. And now, with the vast pine forest at his back, he was faced with a new challenge. He looked at the ground between his feet, hoping to see another arrow. He found nothing but his own feet, coated in filth as to be black.

  Then he caught the scent of something in the frigid air. He looked up and took a deep breath. Fire? He breathed a few more times until he was certain. He thought it was his own clothing and body, carrying remnants of the blaze in the pines, but he hadn’t noticed it on his journey, only now, looking out over a sea of waving green.

  He couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but someone nearby had a fire going. It didn’t matter to Wyatt whether it was Athena and the elves or the Regency. Or something else entirely. A deep hunger drove him onward, guided by a sick desperation to put aside thoughts of his mother and the Bad Man. And his own past. I want to remember, he admitted to himself as he walked through the waist-high grass. But not here. This is supposed to be my sanctuary. I’m the Druid here. And I have the power. He grinned at his own boasting and found his steps lighter.

  Just to his left, the ground swelled into a towering hill. If he wanted a view of his surroundings, that would be the place to go. Surely, he could see a fire from such a vantage point.

  The hill proved far longer and steeper than it had looked at a distance. He had no time to recover, however, as a flicker of light in the distance stole his attention and sharpened his senses. Night has fallen while he had climbed the hill, but the twin moons were out in force, both nearly full, illuminating the plains in muted glory. It made ghosts out of every blade of grass and hid more than it revealed.

  Wyatt looked to where he had seen the flash of light. There. Wyatt had no way of telling how far out the light was, but he could see it clearly now. A small glimpse of fire lit up a small area in the grass sea. And as he squinted, he was certain he could see shapes moving within its illumination. It was impossible to tell who or what they were, or even to ascertain their number, but it didn’t matter.

  Wyatt took off running toward the light, anticipation fueling his weary legs and lighting a fire within his own mind. Friend or foe, they will know who I am. I will not be forgotten or put aside.

  * * *

  As Wyatt drew near the campsite he slowed to a walk and as he came within view of the individuals crowded around the modest blaze he ducked to a crawl.

  He counted four. Three Regents, tall, four-armed, and corded with thick muscle, and one elf, bound and gagged, lying in a patch of flattened grass not far from where the Regents sat. Wyatt crouched in the tall grass, thankful for their sanctuary. He was within fifty feet of them, but they took no notice.

  He could hear them talking and laughing, though their actual words were lost in the distance. Wyatt eagerly examined each Regent, hoping in vain that the Lord Regent was among them. He bit back a growl of disappointment. They must be a scouting band, he thought. Traveling behind the larger force to ensure they’re not followed. He smiled at that, for the Regents were not only being followed but stalked.

  The elf squirmed and tried to say something, but all that could be heard through her gag was a garbled noise of ire. One of the Regents pointed a finger at her and shouted, “Any more out of you, filth, and we’ll see how well elf flesh burns.”

  The others laughed and one added, “And perhaps we’ll see how it tastes as well.”

  Wyatt clawed at the ground. He was wrong to think the elves were sided with the Regency. There was some comfort in that, but he still didn’t know where the main Regency force was or where Athena and the rest of the Coven were.

  They must be close, he surmised. And I bet these Regents here could tell me exactly where the others are.

  Wyatt pulled out Rozen’s dagger from his waistband, put a hand on his chest, and then glanced at the bracelet of braided lightning around his wrist. For Rozen. For Athena. And for all those that have forsaken me.

  Wyatt lowered himself to his belly and slowly squirmed toward the Regents. The area around them was lit by the fire, but the rest of the plains were cast in rippling shadows. And Wyatt knew that the Regents would be fire-blind so near the blaze. To them, the plains were black as pitch. At least he hoped.

  The Regents continued to assault their captive, hurling insults, and what sounded like gobs of spit at the defenseless elf. Every moment that passed further fueled Wyatt’s rage, and the closer he drew to his targets, the more his power called for their lives. Though his head was in the dense grass, he could see them still. Pulses of light, or something akin to that, played in his mind’s eye, guiding him forward. I can see their life force. He grinned like a madman at that. He still didn’t know how far his powers could grow. And something told him that with every bit of life he stole from a creature or thing in the world, the stronger he would become. It was becoming an insatiable instinct.

  “I don’t know why we even have that damned thing,” one of the Regents said when Wyatt was within striking distance. He could scarcely believe that he had stolen so near them without their knowing. There was so little grass between Wyatt and the Regents, that he could see their shapes through the blades.

  “You know what the Lord Regent commanded,” replied one of the others. “Are you saying he was wrong?”

  “Of course not,” the first said. “But dragging that filthy thing around is only slowing us down. What if we lose track of the others?”

  “So, what if we do? It’s not our job to scout for them anymore, now is it? Got new orders. And it’s no coincidence that we were the ones chosen.”

  “How do you mean?” the third Regent asked, joining the conversation.

  “Well, the Lord Regent wouldn’t just choose anyone for such an important task. And he didn’t even send any of those blasted Draygans with us this time. And for that I’m thankful.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. We were chosen,” the first said, visibly puffing out his chest in the flickering firelight. “We’re the chosen ones, aren’t we?”

  Wyatt could wait no longer, and his body surged forward and upward out of his hiding spot. He speared the nearest Regent in the back, but the giant creature gave no quarter, even caught unaware as he was. The Regent stood immediately, forcing Wyatt to cling to his back to avoid losing his prey. He stabbed Rozen’s dagger into the meaty shoulder and clawed at the Regent’s thick neck as his feet left the ground.

  The other Regents stood as well, stumbling away from their companion as they tried to sort out what they were seeing. The Regent Wyatt clung to reached its upper arms behind his head, grasping for Wyatt. One hand found his hair and it pulled hard. Wyatt let loose a guttural yell and turned inward, searching for the strands of life within the Regent. He found them at once. He consumed the entirety of the Regent’s being in what felt like an instant.

  Wyatt hit the ground amid ashen bits of bone. The Regent’s remains sent up a small cloud of acrid dust, further confusing the two remaining Regents long enough for Wyatt to find his footing and dance back away from any potential retaliation. He crouched, hands extended, breathing heavily with the rush of having taken so much energy. His vision crystallized and focused on the other Regents. He could see their hearts beating erratically within their muscled chests.

  In Wyatt’s fervor, he had failed to notice the two Regents recovering their long, silver swords. And he had assumed he could startle them into submission, but they brandished their blades with cruel certainty, each giant weapon taking two of the Regent’s hands to wield. And they both held a pair.

  “You must be the Druid,” said the one with braid
ed hair the color of sand.

  “I am,” Wyatt said with cool calculation. His hands were quivering. His dagger glistened with blood. “And I’ve come to collect your souls.” He stared intently at the towering figures, hoping his blustering threat would find its mark.

  “Is that so?” said the braided one. “What do you think about that?” He nudged the other with a pair of elbows.

  The second Regent, far younger than the other, glanced quickly at the remains scattered on the ground before looking up again to Wyatt. “I think we’re about to receive a much-deserved promotion.”

  Wyatt could hear a slight tremor in the Regent’s words and it further boosted his confidence. His body quivered with the power stolen from his first foe.

  “I’m going to ask you some questions,” Wyatt said, thickening his voice with the power that coursed through him. “You will answer them and you will release the elf. Then I may spare your lives.”

  Both of the Regents laughed, though the younger one hesitated and sneaked a glance at the fallen Regent first.

  “Is that so, mighty Druid?” the braided one asked. “And am I supposed to cower in fear? Beg for mercy? Weep?”

  Wyatt thrust his dagger toward the younger Regent. “Your friend is about to do just that,” he said, staring down the braided one.

  The braided one smirked. “He just doesn’t know what I know.”

  The younger one looked at his companion and the tips of his swords dropped a small amount. “What don’t I know?” he whispered to the braided one. “You saw what he did to Venarius.”

  The braided one nodded and rolled his eyes. “And that was Venarius’s purpose. And yours too, though you seem to have avoided that end. So far.”

  The sword tips of the younger Regent drooped further, but he held his position and scowled at Wyatt.

  “You should both be scared,” Wyatt said, eager to end the confrontation. It was growing difficult to restrain his advance. But he needed answers first. Then he could feed. “Now, tell me where the rest of your forces are. And tell me where to find the Lord Regent.”