Dragon's Gift - The Druid Complete series Box Set Page 38

  The visions faded.

  I stumbled backward, gasping. The fire in front of me had died down, and the circle of druids stared at me.

  “What just happened?” I asked.

  The woman wearing the antlers spoke. “We druids are the holders of knowledge. We are the teachers, judges, healers, priests, seers. We use the flame to help see the future and the present—to determine courses of action that must be taken.”

  “And that’s what just happened?”

  She nodded. “You are the Warrior Druid, Ana. You are the only one among us with the power and ferocity to be the warrior. The Celtic gods have blessed you with their magic, but you must obtain their gifts.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “The smoke has revealed that you must go on a dangerous journey of knowledge to the sacred grove,” the antlered woman said. “Your path will interlace with the evil that has invaded this land. The smoke has indicated that the evil takes a path that is entwined with yours. It may also seek knowledge from the grove.”

  “So if I go there, I can learn more about my magic and also about the one who is invading Otherworld.”

  “Yes. You are linked.”

  Oh boy. I didn’t like the sound of that.

  “You have tools at your disposal,” the woman said. “Your tattoos are a sign of the Warrior Druid. They are a powerful weapon, but you must unlock them. You will find something at the grove to help with this.”

  “Any idea what?” I asked.

  “That is for you to find out.”

  “How do I find the grove?”

  “Your premonition sense will guide you. It is one of a druid’s greatest gifts—the ability to see the truth. To see what must be done. Consider it your druid sense.”

  The corner of my mouth cocked up. My druid sense. I liked that.

  “I’ll get started right away,” I said.

  “Good. But be forewarned. It will be dangerous.”

  “I’d be surprised if it weren’t.”

  3

  An hour later, I said goodbye to my mother and the druids and set off with Lachlan. My mother had given Lachlan a leather backpack full of food for the journey, and Maira had given us two white horses, each wearing a simple leather saddle and bridle. I’d never ridden a horse before, and this one seemed to realize I was an idiot. He looked at me with a pitying expression that made me feel better, frankly. He’d go easy on me.

  I hoped.

  “You can call him Stan,” Maira said. “He’ll take you as far as he can, then he’ll return home.”

  I patted the side of Stan’s neck, and he gave me a baleful look. Lachlan seemed much more at ease on his mount, which was named Finn.

  We set off, riding across the field toward the black stain that snaked over the ground. Fortunately, Stan was as nice as he looked, and he kept his pace even and easy.

  As we neared the black stain, it began to stink of death and decay.

  “What kind of magic is this?” I peered down at the blackened grass that appeared to be rotting. The stain was about twenty feet wide, but seemed to be very slowly growing.

  “I’ve no idea.” Lachlan frowned. “But don’t touch it.”

  “You don’t need to tell me twice.”

  The sun rose higher in the sky, warming the day and gleaming on the green grass that hadn’t been destroyed by the dark magic. Birds chirped in the distance, cheerful songs that didn’t match the worry that tugged at my chest.

  But beneath the worry was a sense of knowing—like I was home. And that same sense drew me forward, toward the east, where answers would lie. Though my magic was on the fritz, my premonition sense was going strong. It was the druid in me, more so than anything else, telling me to keep going east. It followed the path of the dark magic that cut across the land like a horizontal lightning bolt.

  “The dark magic has to be following whoever invaded this place,” I said. “Like they’re so evil they leave a slime trail behind.”

  “Like a giant slug?” Lachlan grinned.

  “Exactly.”

  I expected to see a forest eventually, but the path stayed clear, a flat meadow that went on endlessly. An hour later—which is a very long time on a horse for a newbie—the terrain ahead became rockier. I squinted.

  “Does it look like the land just drops off ahead?” I asked. “Right after the rocks.”

  “Aye. A giant ravine, maybe.”

  I rode up to the edge of it, slowing Stan as we neared. He looked back at me, pinning me with one eye as if to say, “You seriously think I’d walk off a cliff?”

  I shrugged. “Sorry.”

  He neighed, and I took it as an acceptance of my apology.

  Lachlan jumped off his horse and tied the reins off to a large, slender rock. I did the same, then approached the huge gorge. It dived down into the earth at least a hundred feet. It was even wider across, with no bridge in sight.

  “Well, this is going to slow us down.” I looked at Stan, who didn’t seem inclined to leave. Since Maira had said he would just leave when he was done helping us, I assumed it meant we had to get him across the ravine with us. I looked back at Lachlan. “Any idea how to get across?”

  He was studying our surroundings, his brow creased. “Not yet.”

  I turned, inspecting the giant stones that surrounded us. They were totally different than the rest of our surroundings, and sparkled with a light layer of magic. A pile of glassy looking rocks sat to my right, with another pile farther back.

  I pointed to them. “Those are weird.”

  Lachlan approached the pile and picked up a rock, inspecting it. “Aye. Iron slag, I think.”

  “Slag?”

  “A byproduct of iron production. Slag can be used in some spells. The more ancient, the better.”

  Iron production? Out here?

  I stood on a huge rock slab. It was indented with a long channel that looked like a gutter, and the whole thing vibrated with magic. Water could flow through the channel and over the edge of the cliff. I followed the channel back to the tall rocks that sat about ten yards from the cliff edge.

  Up close, it appeared to be some kind of strange setup. A pile of logs and kindling sat beneath a huge bowl-shaped rock that was propped between two boulders. Next to it was another pile of stones, each streaked through with different colors.

  “We’re someplace strange.” I picked up one of the gray-streaked stones. “If those rocks over there were slag, then this is probably iron ore.”

  Lachlan approached the huge bowl-shaped rock that was propped over the long-dead fire. “And this is a crucible.”

  “The Celts were an Iron Age people, right?” I looked around with new eyes. “This must have been a forge.”

  “Outside?”

  “There might have once been a building over it, but maybe not.” I pointed to the crucible. “Once the iron was molten, they’d tip this over, and the liquid would flow down the channel toward the gorge. Maybe it would then form a bridge.”

  “There’s magic here,” Lachlan said. “It’d be necessary for that plan to work.”

  A meow sounded from behind me. Light it up!

  I turned, spotting Muffin sitting on a rock. Bojangles and Princess Snowflake III sat next to him.

  I looked at Lachlan, who shrugged. “Might as well try.”

  I pulled a box of matches from my pocket and knelt by the logs and kindling.

  “You always carry matches?” Lachlan asked.

  “Got to be prepared.” It was a little thing—me being prepared for this random challenge—but it made me grin.

  I struck the match and held it to the kindling. As soon as the tiny flame sparked, magic swelled in the air. The fire burst to life, and I stumbled backward.

  The flame roared, growing ten feet tall, then fifteen. It totally encompassed the huge crucible.

  Lachlan grabbed my shoulders and dragged me backward, away from the heat. I scrambled upward, my heart pounding.

  We watched as
the heat grew. Finally, the crucible tilted over, pouring molten iron into the channel that cut through the ground. From twenty yards away, the horses watched with bored expressions.

  “I guess they’re used to this,” I said.

  “I’m not.” Lachlan watched as the molten metal flowed toward the gorge. When it reached the edge of the rock, it rose up in the air, forming a narrow bridge that began to stretch across the ravine. Magic sparked more strongly in the air as the metal flowed. I grinned.

  It didn’t take long for the bridge to form, and within minutes, the molten metal hardened into a dark gray iron bridge.

  “Wow.” I turned to Lachlan. “Ready to cross?”

  “Let’s do it.” He strode to his horse and untied the reins, then swung himself up into the saddle.

  I joined him, and our mounts trotted toward the bridge like they’d been expecting it all along. They probably had.

  When Stan took his first step across, I held my breath. His hooves clacked on the metal below, and I gripped the reins tightly. The bridge had no railings and was only about five feet wide. Given that it spanned over a hundred feet, it had to be structurally unsound. No engineer would approve it.

  But it’d been made by magic.

  Still, that didn’t keep me from squeezing my eyes closed to keep from looking down at the gorge below.

  You’re doing great!

  Muffin’s voice sounded from behind me. I peeked back over my shoulder and spotted the three cats sitting on the other side of the bridge, apparently unwilling to cross until we’d cleared it.

  I scowled at them.

  What? Muffin meowed. Just letting you test it. I’d like to hang on to my nine lives, thank you very much. But really, you’re doing fabulous!

  Given that he’d pulled the same trick with the beanstalk in the fairytale realm, I had to figure that my cat was just as afraid of heights as I was.

  “Jerk!” I called, but couldn’t help my grin.

  He made some kind of strange wheezing sound that I took to be a laugh.

  By the time I turned back around, Stan was stepping off the bridge onto the other side. My muscles turned to jelly as the adrenaline faded.

  “Give me demons any day.” I maneuvered my mount to join Lachlan, who was ahead of me by about a dozen feet.

  “Which way?” he asked.

  I studied the terrain ahead of us. More field, as before, but there was a dark speck in the distance. A forest? I pointed toward it. “That way.”

  Lachlan nodded and gave his horse a nudge. She picked up the pace and my horse followed suit.

  As we neared the spot that I’d spied earlier, I realized it wasn’t a forest. “It’s giant hedges.” I squinted at them, noticing a dark gap right in the middle. “With an entrance. The black stain cuts right through it.”

  Muffin appeared at my side, galloping along to keep up with Stan. It’s a maze shaped like a Celtic knot.

  I looked down at him. “How do you know that?”

  He shot me an incredulous look. Cat Sìth, remember? These are my stomping grounds.

  “Do you know the way through the maze?”

  I haven’t stomped that way before. He disappeared, as if he didn’t want to hear my laughter.

  We slowed our mounts as we neared the hedges. Stan went right through the entrance of the maze, confident as you please, then stopped dead.

  I sighed. Too good to be true that my horse would know the way. And the black stain cut right through the maze, going into the hedges. It hadn’t burned the wall of foliage away, though, so if we wanted to make it through, we had to do it the old-fashioned way.

  There were four options for our forward progress, and my druid sense didn’t immediately ignite.

  I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath, calling upon my magic from deep within me. It glowed faintly. I used Lachlan’s trick of thinking about why I needed this magic.

  It flared to life within me, bright and strong. I gripped the reins to steady myself and called it forward. Power swelled within my chest, ready to break free.

  My arms began to burn, the tattoos dampening my magic.

  I winced. Fates, this sucked.

  But I got a faint idea of which way to go. The same vague sense that I’d gotten before we’d entered the maze. It pulled left. I turned toward the two paths on the left, catching sight of two spectral white wolves standing at the end of one path.

  They were as tall as my waist when I was standing, each with a shaggy coat and glowing eyes.

  Muffin appeared next to me, hissing. The Cŵn Annwn.

  “What are they?” My magic—what little I could feel of it, with the tattoo interfering—tugged me toward them.

  The spectral hounds of Annwn, the Welch Celtic Otherworld.

  “I’m going to follow them.”

  Muffin hissed again but didn’t disagree.

  “This way.” I nudged Stan so that he’d follow the hounds. Lachlan’s horse fell into step behind me, and we started deeper into the maze. The walls rose tall on either side of us, soaring thirty feet overhead. The foliage was thick and green, creating an impenetrable wall. Even the sun was blocked from in here, making it increasingly difficult to navigate.

  The hounds led us through the maze, racing ahead on swift paws. Occasionally, I’d spot the stain on the ground as it cut through the maze. As long as I occasionally saw that, I knew we were going the right way.

  When we entered a clearing, Stan halted. I nearly flew over his head, saving myself at the last minute by tightening my legs around him and gripping the saddle’s pommel.

  In the middle of the clearing, a woman sat at a well. She wore a long green dress embroidered with golden thread. The same thread had been woven through her red hair, making it glint like gold. Her magic rolled toward me, strong and fierce. It poked inside my mind. I winced, trying to shut off my thoughts.

  Lachlan stopped next to me, his horse pawing the ground apprehensively.

  The woman looked up, her blue eyes shining in the low light of the clearing. “Ah, Warrior Druid. Here at last.”

  I nudged Stan, and he approached with a slow gait.

  I looked between her and the well upon which she sat. It was a simple stone affair, but the water within beckoned to me. I could just imagine it, fresh and pure.

  “I’m Ana Blackwood.” I inclined my head.

  “I am Cebhfhionn, and I preside over the Well of Knowledge.”

  That’s why the well called to me so much. I dragged my gaze from it and looked at her. “You’re a goddess.”

  “One of many. My gifts are healing, knowledge, and a bit of power over the mind.”

  Would I get any of those? I didn’t know how to politely ask if she was one of the goddesses who would donate a bit of her magic to me. As I understood it from Bree, some Norse gods had agreed to give her a bit of their gifts, and others hadn’t.

  I decided to just spit it out. “I’m trying to pass through the maze to get to the sacred grove. Do you have any advice?”

  “Straight to the point, then.” She smiled. “You are our chosen one, Ana. But are you worthy of it?”

  Oh fates, the million-dollar question. “I’m trying to be.”

  “Not a bad answer. I’m sure that you can see that I cherish intelligence and cleverness.”

  I nodded.

  “A riddle, then. And you may drink from the Well of Knowledge. Just a sip. Just enough to help you find your way from this place.”

  Oh, hell. Riddles.

  “Which rock is as light as a feather?” she asked.

  I frowned, my mind spinning. Pumice was a lightweight rock, wasn’t it? But it still wasn’t light as a feather. That would have to be something thin and tiny. A small amount of any rock?

  No, she’d never take that. She hadn’t said how much rock is as light as a feather.

  I stared at the ground, my gaze catching on the clovers that littered the grass. Understanding pierced me. My head popped up. “A shamrock!”


  She smiled and nodded. “Well done.”

  The Cŵn Annwn hounds circled the clearing, their eyes on me. Anxious energy seemed to vibrate from them. They didn’t like the goddess. Somehow, I was sure of it.

  Cebhfhionn gestured me closer. “Come, I’ll give you a drink from the well.”

  I dismounted and approached. Had it really been this easy?

  Muffin appeared next to the goddess, hissing at her. He arched his back and glared.

  “Muffin! Be polite!”

  Don’t be a moron.

  I frowned, slowing my approach. Up close, the well seemed to shimmer slightly. I blinked, and it looked solid and normal again.

  Cebhfhionn gestured for me to come near, her gaze dropping to the sleeve of my jacket. “You have a stain there. Give it here and I’ll wash it.”

  Muffin hissed again. I don’t like this. All is not as it seems.

  The well seemed to shimmer. I blinked.

  Something was wrong. That riddle had been so easy. And what was up with the well?

  “Give it here!” Cebhfhionn made a grabby hand gesture that looked a bit too aggressive for helping me with my clothes.

  Back up, moron.

  I did as Muffin commanded, walking backward toward Stan.

  “Don’t you want your drink from the well?” Cebhfhionn asked. “And your jacket needs tending to.”

  “Um, no thanks.” Alarm bells were going off in my head like mad.

  Cebhfhionn rose, her brow creased.

  I jumped onto Stan’s back as the air around her began to shimmer. She shifted from a red-haired woman into an old crone. The well disappeared, leaving a stream in its place.

  The Bean Nighe! Muffin arched his back and hissed.

  “The Bean Nighe,” Lachlan said, as if he’d heard the cat, though he couldn’t have. He nudged his mount into a trot. “Come on.”

  The hair on my arms stood on end as the old woman glared at me with dark eyes. “You’ll regret this!”

  “I don’t know what this is, but I’m not regretting it.” I directed my horse around her, and Stan jumped over the stream with ease.

  Muffin joined me, trotting at my side. She washes the clothes of those about to die.

  I turned back to look at the woman. “You were trying to kill me by washing my clothes?”