Arcane Rising: The Darkland Druids - Book One, R Nicole [suggested reading TXT] 📗

“Ow. Why was that for?”

“I don’t believe in destiny,” I said with a pout. “Destiny takes away choice.”

“Well, one way or another, with supernatural creatures like us, blood will always win out.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Druids are a community. We wander alone but are stronger together. Those tenants flow through our veins and bind us, Elspeth. With your father gone, you sought us out without even knowing it.”

I lowered my gaze. “God, I wish he would have told me.”

“I think he was trying to protect you.”

“From the Chimera?”

“Maybe.” Rory shrugged. “It’s late. A mystery for another time, hey?” I went to stand, but he shook his head. “You can take my room tonight.”

“I can’t. I—”

“Don’t fash yourself,” he interrupted. “There’s other places I can go. If you’re here, I know you’ll be safe.” He pointed to the door. “I set runes into the wall so I’ll know if something’s not right.”

I stared at the wall but saw nothing. “Runes?”

“Ach, you’ve got a lot to learn about our ways, Elspeth,” he said with a laugh.

I grimaced and pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders.

“There’s a bathroom down the hall and a kitchen on the ground floor,” he added. “Unless Jaimie has been here, there should be some food in the cupboards.” He smiled and tapped his shoulder against mine. “He likes to eat. A lot.”

“Uh, thanks.”

He opened the door and peered out into the hall. “I’ll come get you in the morning,” he said. “Try and get some rest. The Elders will want to speak with you sooner or later.”

“Elders?” I squeaked.

“Don’t worry, they’re not scary.” He winked and closed the door behind him.

I collapsed onto the bed and studied the plaster ceiling as the sound of Rory’s footsteps faded.

Elders, Druids, tricksters, fake Mrs. Campbell, runes… I couldn’t keep up with all the twists and turns. It had only been three days, but I already couldn’t recognise myself anymore.

What I did know was that I was now one of the hunted and had no way of protecting myself. The enemy was unknown. My past was unknown. And my powers were unknown. If I left now, I’d be toast.

For better or worse, I had to trust the Druids.

I just hoped they accepted me.

* * *

It took a few hours of tossing and turning, but eventually, I fell asleep.

When I woke the fire was out, but I’d received a visitor at some point. A warm ball of tabby-coloured fluff was curled in a tight ball beside me, its paw hooked over its nose to keep it warm.

I smiled and ran my hand along the cat’s spine. Stirring, it stretched its paws out and rolled on its back, elongating its body.

Peering at me with emerald eyes, it purred.

“Hey, buddy,” I murmured, running my hand through its soft belly fluff. “How did you get in?”

I shook my head as I watched the bluish-purple sparkles ripple through its tabby colouring. It was a construct made up of magic, it went where it pleased according to Rory.

“Well, if you’re going to stick with me, I’ll have to give you a name.” I leaned over and grunted. “Yep, you’re a boy all right. What do people call their cats anyway? Socks? Mittens?” The cat narrowed its eyes and rolled back onto its stomach. “Okay, something tough.”

The cat yawned and flicked its tail back and forth. Entranced with the way his form rippled and glittered, I thought over some possible names. He was so cat-like, yet human at the same time.

“It’s cold in here, isn’t it?” I murmured, cupping his oversized face in my hand. “What I wouldn’t do for a little fire in the fireplace right now.”

“Meow,” the cat declared.

“Fire, eh? What about Spark?” The cat seemed to shake his head. “Flame? Ember? Blaze? Inferno?” He seemed to like the last one but was still indifferent. “I don’t know any Gaelic, but what about Latin? Ignis.”

The cat meowed and butted its head against my face.

Rubbing my nose, I laughed. “Ignis it is, then.”

With that settled, I found the bathroom and tinkered with the shower. I grimaced as the pipes rattled and groaned. Once the water had warmed, I scrubbed off what felt like a month’s worth of uncertainty. Now I was ready to gather more.

Ignis was waiting for me when I returned to Rory’s room.

The house was freezing cold and the radiators weren’t on. I had no idea how to light a fire, so I huddled in my warmest jumper and wound my tartan scarf around my neck.

My stomach gurgled and I pressed my palm against my gut.

“I’m going to find the kitchen,” I said to Ignis. “Are you coming? There might be something in there for you.”

I left Rory’s room and I made my way down the stairs. Ignis followed, his paws treading so silently, I almost forgot he was there.

The house was rather rickety and plain. Nothing hung on the walls but discoloured wallpaper which looked like it’d been stuck there in the seventeenth century—mint green with a pink rose pattern. It was peeling in the corners and had come apart at the seams—which was a fitting metaphor for my current life status.

The floorboards creaked as I made my way down the hall, the feeling I was trespassing tingled down my spine. The passageway angled a little to the right before opening into the kitchen, which had been painted fire-engine red, but that wasn’t the first thing that caught my eye.

A woman sat at the table with her feet kicked up onto the chair next to her. She looked bored, like she was waiting for something…or someone. I glanced at the knife in her hand as she slid the tip underneath her fingernails, scraping out the gunk stuck underneath.

It looked like the one Rory carried, though a little longer and slimmer—less serrated hunting knife and more dagger-esque.

I could tell from the way she held herself that she was tall and athletic, not to mention confident and powerful. Her black hair hung long and straight,