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me because I’m half Fae. He knew I wouldn’t be accepted.” But even he didn’t know what I’d be capable of.

“No, I think it’s more than that,” Delilah mused. “You are a curious woman, Elspeth Quarrie, Spirit Walker.”

“Dead in darkness,” I whispered. “When the black sun rises, death will choose the hand of fate.” The clues were there all along.

“Prophecies rarely manifest as they are spoken,” she told me. “The black sun could mean any number of things. Worrying will not achieve anything, Elspeth. Follow your conscious.”

“My conscious is telling me to leave before I cause more harm.”

The Druidess sighed. “Fair enough. I see you cannot be swayed.”

“You’re an Elder, surely you can understand why I’m doing this?”

“In this moment, I’m your grandmother, Elspeth. My heart doesn’t want to let you go, but I know I must let you create your own destiny. If anyone can change fate, it’s you.”

I shook my head. “How do you know?”

She smiled softly. “Call it a hunch.”

I snorted and shook my head. I wanted to believe her, but I had so much to figure out before I could form my own opinion on the matter.

“I have a gift for you.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a book.

It was one of those fancy journals with a wraparound cover that fastened with a matching strip of leather. This one was about an A6 in size and a deep chocolate colour. Dents and scratches marred the leather—it had seen a great deal of use—and vibrated with a curious echo of Colour.

Offering it to me, she added, “It’s your father’s journal. His portal research.”

Eyeing the journal with suspicion, I asked, “Why would you give this to me?”

“Perhaps it holds a clue only his daughter would understand…or perhaps it’s simply because his daughter has the only right to possess it.”

I took it and stared at the cover. I wanted to open it right there and then, but whatever was inside felt like it should be read without the eyes of Delilah and all of Edinburgh looking on.

“And what’s this?” Eyeing Rory’s knife poking out from underneath my jacket, she clucked her tongue in disapproval. “You should carry that where no one will see it.”

“I have an illusion on it.”

Delilah huffed and unslung the strap of her bag. Taking out her purse, she handed the embroidered black bag to me. “Here. A parting gift.”

“Oh, I couldn’t.”

“You need something to carry that knife in.”

I held the bag in my lap and studied the outside. One side was covered with a blue, purple, and grey mandala—or a Druidic prism to the trained eye. The design was embellished with gaudy plastic jewels and tiny seed beads—totally Delilah’s style.

I slipped the knife inside, along with my coin purse and passport, noticing there was an internal compartment, along with a bar of chocolate, an unopened packet of tissues, and a little travel-sized bottle of hand sanitiser. She was an Elder but still a grandmother at heart.

“Thanks,” I said, zipping the bag closed.

The platform number appeared on the departures board and I rose.

Delilah stood. “Safe journey, Elspeth.”

I looked at her and decided we were close enough now to give her a hug. We embraced for a moment before I drew back.

“Goodbye,” I murmured. “Look after Ignis for me?”

She smiled. “Of course.”

I took the stairs up to the overpass two at a time, resisting the urge to look back. It wouldn’t matter anyway. Delilah would already be gone, her illusion covering all traces of her ever being here.

I descended to the platform, clutching my new bag close, feeling the weight of my father’s journal as it hit a steady beat against my leg. The train was waiting and people were climbing aboard.

I have the power to help, he’d told me. And when the Earth and her creatures cry out in pain, we should answer with our whole hearts.

Checking my ticket, I found carriage B and lingered outside the automatic door. Edinburgh was cold this morning and a misty drizzle fluttered against my flushed cheeks. It really was a beautiful city.

The platform attendant blew their whistle, signalling the train was about to depart. I looked at the door, then at my father’s journal.

“Miss?” the attendant called out, waving his hand to get my attention. “Are you getting on?”

I looked back at the city, spotting the very tip of Castle Hill rising above the buildings bordering the station.

“Miss? The train is about to depart.”

“Bò bhrònach.” I turned my face towards the sky and began to laugh as I realised what it meant. “Stupid cow.”

* * *

Did Elspeth get on the train? Will Ignis really listen this time and stay with the Druids?

Find out in ARCANE SPIRIT, the second novel in The Darkland Druids series.

OTHER BOOKS IN THE DARKLAND DRUIDS

by Nicole R. Taylor

Druids, Witches, Fae, and shapeshifters abound in this thrilling magical adventure!

Arcane Rising #1

Arcane Spirit #2

Arcane Mythos #3

Arcane Revenant #4

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ABOUT NICOLE

Nicole R. Taylor is an Australian Urban Fantasy author.

She lives in the western suburbs of Melbourne dreaming up nail biting stories featuring sassy witches, duplicitous vampires, hunky shapeshifters, and devious monsters.

She likes chocolate, cat memes, and video games.

When she’s not writing, she likes to think of what she’s writing next.

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Email: nicole.this.is@gmail.com

ARCANE SPIRIT

(THE DARKLAND DRUIDS - BOOK TWO)

A prophecy of doom. A destiny she cannot escape. When the black sun rises, death will choose the hand of fate.

The real Elspeth Quarrie has awoken, and with her comes a prophecy of extinction.

Her dark Fae power, known as the black sun, will destroy everyone she’s come to care about…unless she can rewrite a destiny given to her before she was even born.

But thwarting the threads of fate was never going to be

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