Loamy earth covered Lisle’s hands. Never in her life had she handled soil so dark and rich. When she’d wandered out the previous night, she’d found six young female faeries hard at work in the vegetable garden beyond this castle-like Hall of Druids. Calling her new residence a
hall
seemed silly. It was more a village. But who was she to criticise?
Since arriving in this strange place, her hands ached less than usual, and her hips didn’t twinge with their typical sharp pains. She felt stronger, younger even. With little to do, she’d taken to wandering. At first, she wouldn’t dare to snoop, but the Druid Hall was strangely deserted. Oh, there were servants and stewards, but they left her alone and didn’t speak unless spoken to. No one told her not to go anywhere. Though they were quiet, the faeries throughout the grounds always greeted her with smiles, as though she was perfectly right to do what she pleased.
When she asked questions about the vegetables the faeries were planting, they’d answered readily, although they did insist on calling her
my lady druid
or worse—
elder
. Next thing she knew, she’d gotten on her knees beside them, listening as they taught her how to harvest the squash-like vegetables attached to the thick, creeping vines.
Lisle couldn’t recall the last time she’d done any gardening. It must have been the spring before Jago was born. She laid one of the large vegetables in the faeries’ basket and moved on to the next plant. The honest work satisfied her. She wasn’t prone to wistfulness or regret. Life gave what it gave. Mistakes couldn’t be undone, only paid for. Hard labour ordered her mind, and the sensation of earth in her hands made her feel whole and connected.
“Lisle?” Huck’s voice intruded into her solace, but she had to face him.
She closed her eyes, wanting to delay, but nothing would stop what was coming. Standing with minimal discomfort, a relief in her old age, she turned towards the young man. Huck’s eyes told her everything. “You found my diary,” she said.
His gaze flicked to the faeries working in the gardens, then back to Lisle. He gave a sharp nod, his hand going to his pocket.
He must have the book with him.
“We need to talk. Alone,” he said.
The faeries gathered their produce and quickly dispersed, taking the baskets towards the castle’s storehouse. Huck blinked, surprised, then gestured to a bench. “Would you rather sit out here or go inside?”
Lisle looked down at her grimy hands and rubbed some of the earth away. She would prefer not talk to him at all. “Here is fine,” she said.
“I’ve never been back here before,” he told her.
She didn’t answer. He was stalling.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the rune-covered diary. He traced a finger over a few of the runes.
Shame burned through her. “You read everything?”
He nodded, and they sat together on the curved wooden bench. “As much as I could. I’m not the most gifted reader, but I understood enough.” Reluctantly, he handed the journal to her. “I’m surprised you didn’t keep it with you.”
“I meant to retrieve it before we left,” she said. “Everything happened so fast. I didn’t want my granddaughter to see it.”
“Demi doesn’t know about you and Ulrich?”
“Of course not,” Lisle said. “My sins happened a lifetime ago. I intended to take my secrets to my grave. When she told me about Jago, how could I tell her? She needed my help. If she knew the truth, she would have run from me. Only
I
had the experience to teach her how to evade Ulrich.” Her voice caught. She hated saying his name.
“Was Ulrich your son’s father?” He kept his eyes down as he asked. His tone was so gentle, devoid of the scorn Lisle felt for herself.
“Does it matter?” she shot back.
“Not to me.”
She sighed, setting the book on the bench between them. Part of her wanted to throw the diary away, but part of her wanted to relive the moments she’d recorded within. “He was gifted, a beautiful baby. He grew to be taller than William, but who is to say my husband would not have given me a tall, handsome child? William was a good man.” Over the years, she’d watched her boy for any indication he might be different, but any signs she thought she saw, she dismissed. More than anything she ever desired in her life, she wanted him to be William’s.
“And you never saw Ulrich again until the night of his death?”
She shook her head. “He disappeared. I thought he’d died or perhaps something prevented him from returning to our world. One day he was there, then he simply vanished from my life.”
“Maybe he couldn’t find you,” Huck said.
Lisle looked up at him suddenly. “What do you mean?”
“Maybe your son hid you from him much the way Jago protected Demi.”
Ulrich’s absence had been a relief in one way, but devastating in another. She’d vowed never to speak of her shame. Despite the fact that she’d loved him to the point of obsession, he had always had a streak of nastiness. The anger that had ripped through her when she learned how he turned his cruelty to Demi still burned.
Lisle glanced at Huck. Something in his expression made her feel naked, as though he saw into her thoughts. She hugged herself, her dirty hands smudging her blouse with dark earth.
“Did you kill him?” Huck asked.
Lisle raised her chin defiantly. “I’m glad he’s dead. He’ll never hurt my family again.”
Huck nodded. “When I read that,” he said, nodding to the diary, “I reacted the same way. Hard to imagine anyone regrets his death.” He paused. “You didn’t kill him though, did you?”
Lisle sighed. “If I knew then what I know now, perhaps I’d have murdered him the day I met him.” When Huck tilted his head, the unanswered question still lingering in his eyes, Lisle gave up. “No. I didn’t kill him.”
Huck turned and stared straight ahead, gaze fixed on some point in the distant sky. “I’m not sure what to do,” he said. “Keeper Oszlár is going to negotiate for a trial. I don’t even know if he’s returned yet.”
“What good would a trial do?” Lisle asked.
“Buy us time. Thing is, Konstanze is holding Demi as a political prisoner as much as anything else. From what I gather, it’s unheard of for a faerie queen to execute a human. To kill a druid? This is a power play.”
“My granddaughter confessed to killing the queen’s brother,” Lisle said. Even if the motivation behind Demi’s arrest was political, she didn’t understand how this queen could let her go.
“There are many truths Konstanze would not want revealed in a trial, such as Ulrich’s fondness for human women, the nature of his azuri magic, his taste for inflicting pain. If we can make her believe pursuing her threats will lose her more than she would gain, there may be room to negotiate. Konstanze’s ego has been bruised by a recent loss of territory,” he explained. “If only we’d gotten to Demi first.”
“What do you mean?” Lisle asked. The politics of this realm confused her.
“Taking someone from any hall would violate the Halls of Mist. No other queen would support that action. This is almost a holy city. If we’d gotten to Demi first, we’d have the upper hand. Konstanze might make demands all day long, but she could never force us to give Demi up if we kept her in the Halls of Mist.”
“Then take her back,” Lisle said.
Huck snapped out of his pensive state and stared at Lisle. “You want me to go to Ashkyne and break her out of prison?”
The idea sounded outrageous. Lisle knew nothing about the Otherworld kingdoms. “Yes,” she said. “Go save my grandchildren.”
“That’s crazy. I saw where she’s being held. That place is a fortress. Literally.”
“What if you were invisible?” Lisle asked, growing more excited. “Then you might manage, yes?”
“Invisible?” he said, disbelief wrinkling his forehead as he frowned.
“I can make you a ward stone,” she said. “Like the ones you saw at my house. Stronger, even. Bonded to your own blood.”
His eyes moved back and forth as he thought, weighing, considering. “How? I don’t understand that type of magic. My element is fire. How do your ward stones work?”
“The rituals are written in an illustrated storybook that’s passed through many generations. There are tales, yes, but after I met Ulrich, I saw the truth in the rune drawings. It wasn’t a book for children after all. I’ve studied and practiced the ways of my ancestors for more than fifty years. We inscribe the runes, then dedicate them with our blood.”
Uncertainty became incredulity. “You are a blood druid?”
“Of course,” Lisle said, puzzled at his reaction.
“Blood. Not water or air or fire or stone?”
“I don’t know anything of those talents, no. Our rituals are only blood.”
“And Jago’s sphere?”
Lisle didn’t answer. Something was wrong, but she didn’t understand why he was reacting that way.
“Ulrich’s talent was air, wasn’t it? They were telling the truth about that?” Huck had become excited, insistent.
“Yes,” Lisle said.
“This means the fae don’t have to be azuri to bond with a druid. An earth faerie can bond with an azuri druid. Demi inherited your blood talent,” Huck said, his gaze locked on Lisle. “And passed it on to her lethfae son.”
Lisle hesitated, but then nodded once sharply.
“Demi didn’t kill Ulrich, did she?”
Tears pricked at Lisle’s eyes. “No,” she whispered.
“That’s why Demi confessed. Dear Mother of Earth,” Huck said. “We must get Jago out of there. Konstanze will kill him if she finds out.”
Panic rose in Lisle’s chest. “You said the fae protect children. You promised he was in no danger.”
“That was before I found out he’s a blood faerie who killed his own father.” He stood and offered his hand to Lisle. “How long will you need to make me some ward stones? I must be ready to go as soon as Konstanze arrives for the wedding. All the queens will be attending the ceremony in Caledonia. She’ll likely have a huge contingent with her. Even if they do postpone Demi’s execution, this diversion may offer my best chance.”
Lisle stood, doing her best to steady her nerves. She wanted to put her faith in this determined young man. But she now realised that even if Demi did sacrifice herself for Jago, her death might not be enough to protect him.
“Come,” she said. “The ritual book is hidden in my room.”
∞
Rory lay in bed. Flùranach’s mass of red locks spread over his torso, mingling with the ginger curls of his chest hair. She slept. Her eyelids fluttered as she dreamed, and Rory envied the deep, restful state. His mind raced with thoughts of the threat facing the druids, the repercussions of the portal they’d created, and the druid imprisoned in Ashkyne. Through it all, he thought about Flùranach and where they’d go from there.
A guilty conscience said he shouldn’t have stopped to indulge himself with her. He ought to be at the library, working with the others. He replayed the past day in his head. Every sideways look, subtle touch, and thought led to this moment. When he brought her to his bed, she’d come willingly, even submissively. As his own desire built, whatever willpower she’d been using to restrain herself broke. She became deliciously demanding, teasing his senses, drawing out his pleasure in a way that defied any experience he’d had before.
She stirred slightly as he wriggled out from underneath her. A gentle kiss to her temple settled her back into a blissful quiet. He stood for a moment, studying her, wanting to tell her he loved her, wanting to complete the bonding process she’d begun. Now wasn’t the time, though. The druids had work to do.
Was that his only reason? He considered as he dressed in the moonlight. If he was honest with himself, no. He had to acknowledge two much stronger reasons. To declare his love either during or right after sex would seem, he thought, ungentlemanly.
Another darker, more serious thought worried him. The question niggled, no matter how he wanted to ignore it. Why were the keepers so determined to for them to bond? What did they know that they wouldn’t share with him? He loved Flùranach and wanted to share a bond with her. He admitted now he’d felt that way for a long time, even while he was his angriest with her. But old men plotting to
make
things happen didn’t sit well. He wanted to take his time with this.
With one last glance at her naked form tangled in the blankets, he turned to go. Down the stairs he went, trying to pull his focus to the job at hand. Even in her sleep, Flùranach tugged at his concentration.
He met Aaron in the corridor. The other druid shuffled towards the landing, looking tired and haggard.
“Hey,” Rory said. “I thought you were over at the library.”
“I was,” Aaron replied. “We all came back to the workshop, but I’m falling asleep sitting up. I’ll be no good until I get a kip.”
“Better toddle off to bed then,” Rory said.
Despite his obvious exhaustion, Aaron stopped to flutter his eyelashes at Rory. “If my lord druid commands me to bed…” He ducked with a laugh then darted towards the stairs.
“Git,” Rory called after him, chuckling. At least Aaron was joking instead of displaying the usual hostility towards Flùranach. Rory hoped the exchange signalled some form of acceptance, but he suspected any lasting change would take time.