Dragon's Gift - The Druid Complete series Box Set Page 11

  There would be answers here.

  We found a collection of dusty old books that were just begging for Mayhem’s dusting cloth. In fact, she zipped forward, the rag gripped in her teeth, and shined up the spines of the books. Muffin had disappeared, no doubt to take a nap or steal something tiny.

  I knelt down to inspect the books, but the golden titles were long faded with time. Gently, I pulled two off the shelf and stood. I turned, looking for a table and chairs.

  The items in question were floating toward me, carried by a sparkle of golden magic. They stopped in front of me.

  “I think the library knows you’re doing important work,” Florian said.

  “Wow.” Talk about cool.

  I sat, slowly flipping open the pages of the books. The first showed the ruins of an ancient city. Herculaneum, in southern Italy.

  It was from the Roman period. But I felt nothing.

  I flipped through the next book, having no more luck. I reached for another, realizing the Florian was stacking them up next to me. “Thank you.”

  “For the cause.”

  I hoped I was up to the cause. My eyes began to cross as I carefully turned pages, looking at old illustrations and photographs of ancient sites all over Italy.

  The problem was that our clues were so vague. The jerks who’d stolen the spell were probably laughing their asses off, knowing that they were so well concealed we’d never find them.

  I couldn’t blame them, though. After I’d seen Lachlan fight, covering my tracks like a super pro was the only way I’d ever steal anything from him.

  I was on the last book when a page glowed with light. I blinked. “Florian, do you see that?”

  “See what?”

  Magic vibrated inside me, drawing me to the glowing page.

  But the page wasn’t glowing. It was my vision.

  What the heck was this new magic?

  It wasn’t quite like being a seer.

  But it was definitely guiding me.

  “Pompeii?” Florian asked.

  I looked at the image of the destroyed city. Bodies cased in ash lay in the street, a horrifying image of what had happened in the ancient town in 79 A.D.

  “I guess so.” I pointed to the word Abbondanza on the page. Apparently, it was a street in the destroyed city. “It looks like I’m going to Pompeii.”

  I made it back to the round room just as the meeting was dispersing. Bree and Rowan were already gone, but Lachlan stood near the front.

  I pushed through the departing crowd and made my way up to him.

  “Where were you?” he asked.

  “Hunting answers. My sisters kept me informed during the meeting.” I pointed to the comms charm around my neck.

  “So that’s why they were whispering. Did you find anything?”

  “A couple of things.” I thought of the trapdoor but didn’t mention it. “I think the spell has gone to Pompeii.”

  “That’s possible. It fits the clues. But why there?”

  “Like you said, it fits the clues. And my gut is telling me.” My gut being some unfamiliar new magic.

  “Your gut told you Paris, too.”

  “It’s a reliable gut.” Okay, this convo was getting weird. “Should we tell everyone to look in Pompeii?”

  I wanted that half-a-million-pound prize, but I wasn’t going to risk the world to get it. We needed every advantage we could get.

  “I don’t think so,” he said. “When the groups split up last time, they still found good information. And if your gut is wrong, we need more people hunting in other places.”

  He was right. There was no guarantee that my gut would be right—or that we’d find exactly what we sought in Pompeii.

  “Okay, good. What about everyone’s missing magic?”

  “We think it’s linked to the stolen ancientus spell. When we find the spell, we’ll find the person who cursed us. But the Protectorate is trying to locate another solution in the meantime.”

  “Good. I don’t like our chances of retrieving the spell without our magic.”

  “Agreed.”

  “I need to change before we go to Pompeii. Can I meet you at the entrance hall in thirty?”

  “I look forward to it.”

  I hurried out of the room and raced up the stairs to my apartment door. I slipped inside and ran up more stairs—sometimes it seemed as if the castle was nothing but halls and stairs—and I slipped through into my apartment.

  The Cats of Catastrophe were in my apartment again. Princess Snowflake III sat on the couch on top of two pillows this time, and she glared at me, as expected. Bojangles hung from the curtains. And Muffin was warming his butt on a pizza box.

  “How did you get pizza?” I asked.

  “Meow.” I’m freaking magical, dummy.

  “Got a slice left?” It was my favorite.

  He meowed in what was clearly a laugh. I scowled at him, then hurried upstairs to change clothes. As I passed the easel set up along the side wall, I smiled. It looked like my painting had come in handy after all.

  It didn’t take long to change into fresh jeans, boots, and jacket. I took a moment to clean the blood off my blades. Even though I didn’t have to see them while they were stored in the ether, I still knew they were filthy. I wasn’t a neat freak by any means, but it still grossed me out.

  I stopped by the kitchen on my way out, only to find that the cats had eaten all my food before they’d ordered the pizza. And this was after Muffin had presumably had some ham with Mayhem. Even a bottle of cheap champagne was open and empty.

  I glared at Muffin.

  He glared back. Is this how you treat your guests?

  I sighed. “Just try to clean up after yourself, okay?”

  There was no point in sticking around to hear his response. He was a cat. He was going to do whatever the heck he wanted.

  Lachlan was waiting for me down in the main entry hall, but my stomach was still grumbling. “You hungry?”

  “I could eat.”

  “Good. Let’s grab something from the kitchen real quick.” I led him down the stairs into the kitchen, the domain of Hans, the chef.

  Hans’s mustache quivered with delight when he saw us. He loved guests.

  “Food!” he cried. “You must eat!”

  “Could we have something quick to go, please? Something that won’t put you out.”

  “But it never puts me out, ma cherie!” He darted about the kitchen like a ballet dancer, quick and determined. A little brown rat sat on the counter, a platter of cheese in front of him.

  “How are you doing, Boris?” I asked.

  The rat nodded, looking happy. Bree had rescued him from a crazy healer about a month ago, and now he spent his days either in the kitchen, mooching off of Hans, who was only too happy to oblige, or hanging out with Hedy while she created the spells and potions that we used so often.

  Hans piled us high with sandwiches wrapped in paper, then he shoved a six-pack of juice boxes at Lachlan. “You must drink your juice!”

  For whatever reason, Hans was utterly obsessed with giving people juice. It was the strangest thing, but he clearly felt strongly about it.

  Since my sisters and I hadn’t had anyone caring for us since our mother’s death when we were thirteen, I really didn’t mind. “We’ll drink it. Thank you, Hans.”

  He nodded, shooing us out. “Come back soon, though! For a proper meal!”

  I smiled as I climbed the stairs. Hans really could cook. It was a little weird that he allowed rodents on the counter, but I figured Boris was pretty clean and he always seemed to stay on that one section. I wasn’t terribly picky, anyway.

  We ate our sandwiches as we crossed the entry hall in silence. I polished mine off as we stepped out into the courtyard. The sun was nearing the horizon, sending a beautiful pink glow over the castle grounds and the mountains beyond.

  “So, isn’t Pompeii full of tourists?” I asked.

  “Part of it is.” Lachlan handed me a
juice box. He looked at it curiously, as if he only drank whiskey and black coffee, then shrugged and shoved the straw into the little box. “But there’s another part—the supernatural district. It’s hidden from human eyes, but we’ll find our answers there.”

  Excellent. We could usually count on the good stuff being in supernatural districts. “Do you have a transportation charm?”

  He dug into his pocket. “Two left.”

  I waited as he chucked it at the ground. A cloud of sparkly dust poofed up, and I stepped inside. The ether sucked me in, dragging me across space and spitting me out in Italy. It wasn’t much warmer here, though it was darker and the sun now dipped behind the horizon.

  It was quiet, and I spun to take in the fields around me. A tall mountain pierced the sky in the distance, looming and dark. Vesuvius.

  I shivered, remembering the images of the bodies encased in ash. Vesuvius was a real jerk of a mountain.

  Lachlan appeared next to me.

  “Where are we?” I asked. I saw no buildings or cars or people. Just a large ruined archway about fifty yards away. It looked ancient.

  “We’re at the far edge of Pompeii, the part that is hidden.”

  “Even from supernaturals?”

  “Partially. Come on.” He set off across the field, walking toward the arch. “This part of Italy is densely populated. To hide the supernatural district of Pompeii, they put a shield over most of it. But we can enter it through here.” He pointed up to the huge marble arch that marked the entrance to Pompeii.

  I stopped with him and looked up. Two figures appeared at the top of the arch, their short skirts fluttering in the wind. Their helmets concealed their features, and the spears at their sides were as tall as they were.

  Roman warriors.

  Instant dislike streaked through me, strong and fierce. I shuddered.

  What the heck was that about?

  It was like one of these guys had kicked a puppy or something, but I’d never met them.

  “Who goes there?” they demanded.

  I wanted to shout that it was none of their damned business, but it was just my weird emotions talking. Why the heck did I feel like this?

  “Belatucadros and his woman,” Lachlan shouted back.

  I glared up at him. I didn’t like the lie—Belatucadros was the Celtic god of war and Bree’s boyfriend—and I didn’t like being called his woman.

  He shot me a look that very clearly said shut up.

  I harrumphed. The guards murmured something, then the heavy iron gates creaked opened. Two more figures stood within, both wearing the same armor as the guards on the top of the arch. Their eyes were cold behind their iron masks, and they raked their gazes over me and Lachlan.

  His magic flared, strong and fierce. He might not have been able to use it, but apparently he could still show off his signature like a freaking peacock trying to charm a lady.

  One of the guards choked a bit and stumbled back. The other stiffened his spine, but even he looked affected.

  “It’s him,” the stiff guard said.

  “Agreed,” the other said.

  They both stepped back, letting us pass. We walked through the gate, and I stared forward, not daring to look at the guards.

  The city that we stepped into was straight out of the past. The stone streets gleamed in the light of the rising moon, and the buildings were all ancient. A forum stretched out in front of us, the open space full of grand buildings fronted with columns. There had to be more than a hundred white columns framing the large rectangular space, and on the far end was an imposing building that looked like the rule of law was determined there.

  There were some people in the forum, as well as ghosts who glowed with a gray light.

  As soon as we were far enough away from the guards, I hissed, “Why?”

  “They wouldn’t deny a god entrance.”

  “I’m friends with Cade, you know,” I said.

  “Is that what he goes by?”

  “Yes. Why him?”

  “He’s one of the few earth-walking gods. And my magic is strong enough that it can pass for a god’s.” He grinned like a shark. “So I borrowed his name.”

  “But what if we cause problems and they track it to him?”

  “You think he can’t handle it?”

  I thought about Bree’s boyfriend and the sheer amount of badassery that he possessed. “Fine. He can handle it. Still, I don’t like it.”

  He grinned. “All right. I’ll try not to do it again.”

  “Try?”

  He raised a brow. “Try hard?”

  “Ugh.”

  We’d passed through the open forum and entered a wide street, so I stopped to look around. Buildings lined either side of the street, which was indented into the ground with raised sidewalks on either side. Water trickled sluggishly down the street, which I supposed was the ancient Roman version of city waste water disposal.

  The buildings were one and two stories tall, their bottom halves painted red. I squinted at one. Did the paint mark the old part of the wall, while the paler part above it was the modern addition? Maybe so. There weren’t as many windows as in a modern building, but there were inset balconies on many of the second levels.

  “Was this place reconstructed?” I asked. “Or did the volcanic eruption not bury it?” The only reason Pompeii was so well preserved was because up to twenty feet of ash and pyroclastic debris had buried it in 79 A.D.

  “It was hit by the destruction,” Lachlan said. “But it was reconstructed slowly over time. Some of the people who were killed here stayed on as ghosts. Others went on to their afterlives. And other people moved in.”

  We passed a cell phone shop, and I did a double take. “Didn’t expect to see that here.”

  “The past and the present collide in this part of Pompeii.” A man on a Segway scooter zipped by, and a uniformed Roman officer chased after him, shouting. “Though they don’t always get along.”

  I lowered my voice. “Where will we start our search? This place is huge.”

  “Too huge to work blindly. We’ll go to my friend Fabio. He knows the ins and outs of Pompeii.”

  “You have a lot of friends that know things,” I said.

  “It’s the best way to do business. You can sell more spells that way and avoid selling to those who are unscrupulous.”

  “So, you don’t sell to certain people?”

  He shrugged. “Not to warlords, criminals, or suspicious government officials.”

  “And that’s all you do? Make spells and sell them?”

  “Occasionally people hire me for dangerous jobs, like this one. Except I’m the one doing the hiring now.” He rubbed his chin. “It’s quite a switch.”

  “So, you’re like a mercenary?”

  “Exactly. Except that I only kill demons. And my price is so high that I don’t get offered much work.”

  “Then lower your price.”

  “I don’t need the work.”

  Ah, right. Must be nice.

  I followed him down several crowded streets, passing more ancient and modern amenities. The place was packed with people—only the forum had been fairly empty, and probably because it was evening. Government was shut down for the day, and so was the market.

  We passed by a restaurant with an open front. A woman wearing something similar to a toga was dishing out food from massive terra-cotta pots set into the counter. It smelled savory and delicious, but entirely unfamiliar.

  “In the old days, most homes here didn’t have kitchens,” Lachlan said. “People would eat at taverns like that.”

  “I think I prefer my place.” But I did like the feeling of stepping back into the past—as long as I ignored the cell phone stores.

  “We’re here.” Lachlan turned left, into a large courtyard. Fancy ornamental trees surrounded a fountain, and golden lights lit our path to the front door.

  It swung open as we neared, and a short woman grinned at us. Her dark hair was a wild halo a
round her head. “Lachlan! It has been too long.”

  “Lilia, how are you?”

  “Better now that you are here.” She grinned cheekily. “Fabio will be delighted to see you.”

  I followed Lachlan into another courtyard, but this one had no grass. It seemed like it was the middle of the house, open to the air through a square hole in the ceiling. Beneath the hole, in the middle of the area, was a shallow pool. It was surrounded on all sides by tile floor, with rooms encircling the whole thing.

  It pinged a memory of the books I’d read about Pompeii. The size of this place and the layout… It was the home of a rich dude from ancient times. I wondered if they had a homeowner’s association here or someone who drove around on a golf cart trying to enforce nitpicky rules about plant placement.

  The idea made me giggle, but I swallowed it as soon as a man walked through one of the doors at the back of the courtyard.

  His whole aura screamed danger. He was the same size as Lachlan, and both looked like they played some kind of professional sport for a living. But his eyes were as cold as a frost giant’s butt, and the aura of power that surrounded him competed with Lachlan’s. It wasn’t quite as strong, but it was enough to make my fingers itch to draw a weapon from the ether.

  This guy is on our side.

  He strode up to Lachlan, his arms outspread to hug him. Then punched him in the face.

  Or tried to.

  Lachlan dodged, avoiding the fist by inches.

  My heart leapt into my throat.

  Lachlan and the man laughed, great booming noises.

  Lilia looked at me. “They’re idiots.”

  Lachlan threw a punch this time. The man darted his head away, but Lachlan’s knuckles brushed his cheek. The blow left no mark—the man had been fast enough to avoid a real hit—but Lachlan grinned widely. “I win this round.”

  “Why the hell do you do that?” Annoyance streaked through me. With my job, I pretty much ate violence for breakfast. And I didn’t mind it so much. But amongst friends?

  I wasn’t a fan.

  “We met while fighting in the Coliseum,” Lachlan said. “It became habit.”

  “Wait—what? How the heck did you fight there?”