The Dawnvel Druids, - [most inspirational books of all time TXT] 📗

Chapter Ten- The Joining

Bobby watched the ground open up in disbelief. And they expect me to go down there?

“Uh, what’s the chances of us getting trapped beneath ground? What if there’s a cave-in or something?”

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“There won’t be,” said Dreg casually, stepping into the yawning cavern and disappearing from view.

“Besides,” said Lana as she walked toward the steps. “If we were to get stuck down here, you’d be the first to get eaten once we resort to cannibalism. You’ll suffer the least if you think about it.”

Warren and Niamh followed Lana into the ground next, but Bobby stood rooted to the spot.

Simone put her hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be okay. It’s your destiny to be one of us.”

“I don’t believe in destiny,” he replied, calculating the possibility of him vomiting from nerves.

“Ah, but destiny believes in you,” Mo proclaimed. “Sorry, I just made that up, and it was really cheesy. C’mon, before midnight strikes Cinderella.”

Tonight had proved so far that Warren was as dangerous as a Cairnath and Dreg more resembled one of the ghosts haunting Dawnvel than he did a real person. As for Lana, Bobby surmised he couldn’t trust her as far as he could throw her, and though she was small, Bobby wasn’t strong so it still wouldn’t be far.

Bobby took a deep breath and clenched his fists, pushing down the hysteria threatening to boil over. “Okay. Let’s go.”

He kept close to Simone and Mo, sandwiched between them as they descended the stone steps.

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It had been dark on the walk here, but at least he’d been able to see his immediate surroundings. Now he was underground, he couldn’t even see the hands in front of his face.

His one saving grace was the levitating ball of light floating on the tip of Mo’s wand, although it looked like it was bobbing on a sea of blackness as Mo’s wand wasn’t even visible.

Within seconds, Bobby walked into a wall by accident. He felt something grab his hand and leaped in fright, before realising it was Simone.

“It’s alright,” she whispered soothingly. “We cast a spell on our eyes to give us night-vision, but it’s best if I don’t perform the spell on you yet.”

“How come?” he asked, incredibly aware that they were still holding hands.

“Well, the spell has been known to severely damage the eyes of those who aren’t druids, and as you aren’t technically one yet, it’s best not to risk it.”

“Oh, makes sense,” he muttered, seeing Simone’s grey eyes glinting in the dark like a cats.

“Keep hold of me, before you crack your head open on a hanging stalactite or something.”

He made a weird noise in the back of his throat as Simone led him through the underground tunnel. Her hand felt warm and soft, not clammy and sweaty like his probably was.

Bobby felt the rock all around him like an oppressive force. He couldn’t stop thinking the roof would cave in and crush them. Before his worry turned into a

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full-blown panic attack, the darkness suddenly diminished and their narrow tunnel opened into a vast cavern.

Several six-foot black candles ringed the cavern in a large circle, blue flames at their peaks. Bobby wasn’t sure whether Dreg lit the candles just before he arrived, or whether the candles were always lit magically. He’d wondered why it this place was called the grove when it was a cave, until he saw the trees embedded in the rock walls. They were different to regular trees, pale as bone, with leaves like blood.

Two naturally worn circles were etched into the cavern. A large outside ring, and then a smaller inner ring which was deeper, like a basin.

“So, do you guys come here often? That’s an actual question, not a chat up line.” He chuckled weakly.

“Only about once a month,” Mo replied enigmatically.

Dreg pulled two bottles from the leather bag he’d been carrying, before walking over to the large, ancient-looking cauldron at the end of the cavern.

“What’s he doing?” Bobby whispered.

“Making the potion you need to drink,” said Simone. “One of the bottles is soil, the other sea water.”

“Sounds…tasty.”

“You don’t even know the best ingredient yet.” Lana smirked.

Dreg muttered something and a lick of flame leaped from his wand and into the cauldron. The liquid began to hiss and bubble as Dreg returned to his bag

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and pulled out a rock. He muttered once more and the rock turned to sand in his hand, which he then sprinkled into the potion.

“Uh, are rocks digestible?” said Bobby.

“C’mon, you know what to do,” Warren ordered the others, ignoring Bobby.

He watched as the clan spread out, picking up various stones off the ground.

The druids set down seven rocks in total, in a circle around the outer-ring of the cavern. Bobby realised each of the rocks were different, iron, tin, limestone and more.

He noted a narrow passageway led off into darkness on one side of the cavern, whilst a rock ledge was on the other, lined with hollowed-out skulls.

“My god,” he breathed, “are those human skulls?”

“Don’t worry. We didn’t kill anyone.” Mo grinned. “They were given freely by ancient druids.”

Dreg next added crushed up leaves and wood shavings to the potion before stirring it rhythmically, counter-clockwise.

“Uh, what will this weird drink actually do to me?”

“We call it druid drink, original name I know.” Simone smiled. “And it will help awaken your powers. The ritual we perform takes care of the rest.”

“I take it the rock powder was the horrible ingredient you mentioned,” he asked Lana.

“Oh no.” Her eyes flashed mischievously. “That’s blood my dear.”

“Are you serious?”

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“You can choose if you like,” said Warren, pretending to be nice as he strode over to the rock ledge. “Which cup would you like to drink from?” He picked up two of the hollowed skulls. “This giant oaf or this deformed head?”

“I thought you guys were druids, not flaming vampires?” Bobby’s voice rose, echoing around the cave.

“It’s only a trickle,” Niamh said kindly, as if drinking just a little bit of blood from some dead druid made it okay. “Once you’ve drank the skull dry, your powers will awaken or…”

“Or what?” he jumped on her hesitation.

“You’ll die,” said Warren, his cold eyes boring into Bobby’s. “The blood of a druid in a non-druid’s body will poison it. It’ll slow your heart until it beats no more.”

“Then no way am I drinking that. There must be some other reason I saw that Shade. I probably don’t have a shred of sorcery at all.”

“Shut it Warren,” Simone growled. “He’s exaggerating. If a human drank the potion they’d fall ill, yes, and likely die.”

“That doesn’t sound any different to what he said,” Bobby cried.

“Let me finish. I was going to say they’d likely die unless a druid used healing spells to cure them. We’ll make sure you don’t die. I promise.”

“You can’t really promise than, can you?” Warren said through a yawn, like didn’t have a care in the world. “There’s still a chance he’ll react really negatively to the potion and die before we can heal him.”

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Simone placed a hand on her wand. “Do you want to spend the rest of week as a bloody frog?”

“Try it,” Warren shot back.

“Sorry guys, if there’s even a chance I’d die, I’m not gonna drink that swill.”

Bobby edged backwards.

“You’ll die if you don’t,” Dreg muttered, barely audible as he bent over the cauldron.

“What did you say?”

“If a druid doesn’t perform a joining, binding himself to the Earth, his magic will consume him from the inside. Might not be today, might not be tomorrow, but soon, your sorcery will explode inside of you.”

“Well, maybe I’ll take that chance.”

“You could,” said Lana, “but we aren’t going to let you.”

“You’re forcing me?” He yelled, looking around him, suddenly realising he was surrounded by them, trapped.

“It’s not that,” Simone said, trying to be reassuring. “It’s just that if your magic was to explode, you might take innocent civilians with you in the process. We’re duty bound to ensure you go through with the Joining and thus protect others from harm.”

“Besides, we need you mate,” said Mo. “It looks like there’s a dark druid in town, maybe more than one, and our clan is vulnerable without the seventh. All of us will be stronger once you’re one of us.”

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Bobby took in a deep breath, hating the situation he was in, but knowing they were right. Although he didn’t have much of a life, he didn’t really fancy blowing up. Nor would he ever be able to live with himself if he hurt innocent people. You wouldn’t live with yourself because you’d be dead, idiot.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” he sighed. “It can’t be worse than the alternative.”

“Nice one, bro,” Mo clapped him on the back whilst Simone smiled at him in relief.

Simone checked her phone before stating, “Five minutes till midnight. It’s time.”

The clan gathered behind the stones they’d retrieved, Dreg being the last to take his place, holding a goblet.

“Please stand in the inner circle.” Simone pointed to the basin.

Bobby did as she asked, taking the hollowed-out skull Warren offered him as he went. He thought the skull would be full of blood, but was relieved to see it was just a trickle. The skull was like a mug, and the blood was so dark it was almost black. It must’ve been preserved somehow if Mo said it had come from an ancient druid.

He held the skull out warily as Dreg poured the contents of his goblet inside.

The liquid hissed and continued to bubble. The brown potion turned dark red as it mixed with the blood and Bobby was sure it glowed too.

Dreg stepped back behind his stone and then all six druids linked hands.

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“Do not drink the potion until after our spell is activated and the fire has been summoned,” Simone instructed.

“Fire? You didn’t say anything about fire?”

“Calm down, it won’t hurt you,” said Lana.

“Sorry Bobby,” said Simone. “I’d like to ease you in, but we’re running out of time. On my count, we begin the chant.”

Before he could ask anything else, the six of them began chanting identical words simultaneously.

“Dùisg leanabh de talamh. Dùisg leanabh de draoidheachd.”

He reckoned the language was Celtic of some kind, and as the chant ended fire