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

of Saint Anthony’s Chapel. Whoever Saint Anthony was.

With the ruins towering behind me, I sat on a flat rock and watched the city as it faded into the night. In the distance, I saw the lights of the bridges crossing the Firth of Forth estuary. From here, Edinburgh seemed so vast, stretching in all directions around Castle Hill.

As darkness descended around me and the tourists retreated for the warmth of their hotels, I buried my head into my arms and choked back sobs. I was cold, hungry, alone, and everything hurt. I suck at being a martyr.

A meow echoed across the hillside and I raised my head with a gasp. A familiar tabby cat prowled out of the darkness, its fur rippling with Colour, and began to brush up against my legs.

“Ignis,” I scolded, “what are you doing out here, you daft cat? I told you to stay.”

Before I could do anything else, a large black German Shepard loped out of the shadows and sat before me. Jaimie lifted his paw and tapped me on the leg, his tongue lolling out the side of this mouth. Looking up, I saw Rory appear out of the fog of his illusion.

“Elspeth, thank Salle we found you,” he said standing before me.

I glared at Ignis. “Traitor.”

“Don’t blame the flea bag,” Rory stated. “He’s only trying to help. Better than a bloodhound, that one.” Jaime barked softly in protest. “Well, nearly as good as a German Shepard.”

I had nothing to say, so I turned my gaze away.

Rory scuffed his toe against a rock and shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “I’m sorry about what they did to you. It was inexcusable.”

I shrugged, the motion sending a throb through the prism burns over my body. I wasn’t sure how many there were, but it felt like they were snaked over every part of me.

“Elspeth, I—”

“Don’t.” I huddled into my scarf, conscious that my face was a complete mess. I must look pathetic. I certainly felt like it sitting before a handsome, powerful Druid and his muscled shapeshifter best friend.

Ignis head-butted my arm, trying to crawl onto my lap, but I gently nudged him away.

“They tried to murder me,” I muttered. “Your perfect girlfriend led the charge. Vanora—”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Rory interrupted.

I ignored him. “Their hatred…” I swallowed the knot in my throat. “There’s nothing you or anyone can say to make it go away.”

Silence fell over the chapel ruins. I was too ashamed to walk away, so I sat on the rock like a useless lump.

“How did you get out?” Rory finally asked.

“How do you think,” I muttered.

He shook his head to cover his confusion. “It’s not safe out here. You have to come back.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” I snapped. “You’re the one who should have stayed in your magical cave.” I glanced at Jaimie. “You too.”

“Elspeth.”

I rose to my feet and dusted off my arse. “I’m not going back. I can’t.”

“You can. We need you.”

I snorted, scowling at him. “I’m only needed to ensure the prophecy favours the Druids. That’s not the kind of need I subscribe to.”

“The portals have been severed,” he said. “You won’t be able to get back into the Warren without us.”

“I don’t want to go back,” I murmured. “All that’s waiting for me there is a slit throat.”

Rory stepped towards me. “Then we’re coming with you.”

“No,” my scowl deepened, “don’t be stupid. The only thing that follows me is death. The Chimera want me, Rory. If I leave, they’ll follow. If you both stay, you’ll have a chance at a peaceful life. If you both come with me, they’ll kill you to get to me. I’ve been the catalyst for too much death already.”

Jaimie lowered his head and let out a low growl.

“That’s dog speak for no way in hell,” Rory told me.

“You’re not my neach-gleidhidh anymore. You’re free.”

“Elspeth…”

I wish my father was here.

That’s when inspiration struck—a plan for the perfect commotion began to form in the back of my mind.

I began to walk away, but Rory came after me with Ignis and Jaimie on his heels. I threw my hand up with an exasperated growl and allowed my intent to shape a barrier behind me.

Rory let out a yelp as he smacked into the invisible wall. “Elspeth! Wait.”

Don’t be such a bitch, Elspeth, I thought. They’re only trying to help. But so was I. I needed to end this before more Druids died.

I turned. Rory rubbed his nose in bewilderment. He hadn’t seen it coming—a testament to my growing ability—but it wasn’t quite as comforting as I thought it would be.

“Where will you go?” he asked, looking after me with a mournful expression.

I sighed and turned my back on him. “To make things go back to the way they were.”

* * *

My internal death sensors led me across the city to Old Calton Cemetery. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

It sat in the shadow of Calton Hill, a place that only served to remind me of the day Owen showed his true face. I held my throbbing wrists against my stomach, adrenaline the only thing keeping me on my feet. It’d been one hell of a day.

The gate was secured with a heavy chain and padlock, but I phased through the iron bars and walked up the stairs.

The cemetery itself was a tightly packed pocket of history nestled within the dense inner city. An enormous obelisk dominated the grounds, pointing up to the heavens. The modern streetlights tinted the overcast sky a dull burnt orange, lengthening the shadows into creepy trespasser territory. I shouldn’t be here, but no one would notice my passing.

Like Greyfriars, this cemetery had a great deal of above-ground mausoleums, but below ground burials with matching headstones still dotted the lawn in matching numbers. It was beautiful in its grimness—the detail and care put into these final resting places a testament to the love people had for their departed.

My boots crunched against the gravel as I waked up the