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

He shrugged. “There are only a few left who remember it.”

I paused. “Wait…”

“Delilah was one of the few who first made our home here,” Rory told me. “And Rowen, too.”

“That would make her…” I didn’t want to say it out loud, but Rory did it for me.

“Around nine hundred, but don’t mention it around her, especially not Rowen.”

“How long do Druids live?”

“Depends.”

I scowled. “On?”

“Lifestyle choices.”

“How old are you?”

Rory winked and pressed his finger to his lips. “I’ll never tell.”

“Wait.” My heart skipped a beat. “How long will I live?”

“Don’t know. You’re new.”

I was more confused the deeper down the rabbit hole I went. I snorted and shook my head. Alice in Wonderland, indeed.

“Delilah doesn’t seem like someone who wouldn’t be worthy,” I stated, picking up my earlier tangent. “Is that why no one has been back?”

Rory shrugged and turned away, plucking at a leaf on the vine hanging over the bed. Okay, so that was a point of contention. Some Druids seemed to think returning to their home was impossible, while others still had hope.

“Maybe because you haven’t been there, you’re still—”

“We’ll begin training tomorrow,” he said. “Okay?”

My shoulders sank and I nodded. “Whatever you say, neach-gleidhidh. Did I say that right?”

His lips quirked, softening the air between us a little. “No, but we’ll work on that, too.” He nodded at my suitcase. “You better get settled. I’ll come find you in the morning.”

“What if I get lost?”

“It’s impossible to get lost in the Warren,” he told me. “All paths eventually lead back to Salle. The willow.”

I nodded and he opened the door.

“Rory?”

He turned.

“Am I doing the right thing?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Right now, it’s the only thing.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I offered him a half-smile. There probably wasn’t anything I could have said anyway.

Once he was gone, I opened all the drawers in the dresser and explored the nooks and crannies in my room. It was the same thing I did whenever I checked into a hotel, but this time there were no complimentary toiletries or Bible in the bedside table.

In the bathroom, I splashed water on my face, thinking about everything the Elders had said. They didn’t know my mother, but my father… Why had the Chimera murdered him? Was it because of me? The more I thought about it, the more I realised it probably was. I was half-Fae—and if the fear I faced from the other Druids was to be believed, I likely held the powers of one—and as a Druid, I also had the ability to open portals. Blood called to blood and they believed I would be torn between sides. Was that it?

I was beginning to worry it was something more sinister than the Chimera. Was he trying to protect me from both sides?

I cursed and dragged my fingers through my hair. Catching my reflection, I noticed the green had spread. At least it was a nice shade of glowing emerald and not some putrid khaki.

It didn’t matter. It still marked me as different. Dangerous.

I stared into the mirror, studying the freckles across my nose, and trying to find the similarities that marked me as my father’s daughter.

If I concentrated hard enough, I could almost see Dad standing behind me. I placed my hand on the mirror and choked back a sob. I needed him now more than ever, but he was gone. If only I was one of those mysterious Spirit Walkers, then maybe I could go into death and bring him back.

But I wasn’t. I didn’t know what I was.

And that was the problem.

12

By the following morning, two things had happened.

Ignis had materialised inside my room and proceeded to hog the entire bed…and the green had taken over more of my hair.

I was scowling at a problematic clump in the mirror when a knock pulled me away from my pouting. My mobile phone had lost its charge days ago and to be totally honest, I’d forgotten all about checking my email—not that I got any. Point was, I had no idea what time it was.

Opening the door, I found Rory on the other side.

“Catch,” he declared, tossing something at me.

I fumbled the apple he’d thrown at me and almost dropped it onto the floor.

“Watch it,” I warned.

“You look comfortable.”

I looked down at my leggings, slouchy army-green jumper—that covered my backside and frontside—combat boots, and woolly speckled grey socks that poked out the tops. I topped it off with a shrug. “I didn’t know what training entailed.”

It mustn’t be much because Rory was wearing his usual getup—T-shirt, jeans, and his own stompy black boots. I did note that he’d managed to comb his hair, which seemed too much effort for most men. Suddenly, I wondered how old he really was.

“That’ll do,” he said. “C’mon.” He paused and looked over my shoulder. “Is the flea bag coming?”

“Don’t call him a flea bag,” I scolded. “Ignis?” The cat lifted his head and his tail flicked, but there was no other movement. “Trust me to get the lazy construct.”

“Newbies are flaky,” Rory told me as I closed the door behind me. “They like to sleep a lot. Delilah says its because fractured souls take time to adjust to their new realities. How was the shower, by the way?”

“Quite nice actually. The Warren has excellent water pressure.”

He chuckled as we walked through the tunnels. I noticed we were in a section I hadn’t seen yet and wondered where this mysterious training was taking place.

We passed underneath an arch, then through another door, emerging into a large, open room.

Mirrors lined one turquoise quartz wall, though the others were bare besides the Druid’s trademark crystal lighting system. A pile of mats and pillows had been piled in one corner and a door led to another room beyond, though there were no clues as to what was inside.

“What is this place?” I wondered out loud.

“It’s used for training,” Rory replied. “Everything from Colour to combat skills. That’s why the floor is squishy.”

I frowned. “Combat skills?”

“We’re no