Age of Druids

India Drummond

Description

The Halls of Mists are in ruin, and people scheme, grasping at power as a new kingdom emerges and an ancient one reappears. Tragedy pits druid against queen, testing friendship, loyalty, and love once more.Who will survive and who will be lost forever as desperation drives some to unthinkable ends?

Sujets

• Fantasy (canción de Mariah Carey)
• Fantasy

Informations

• Publié par: Trindlemoss Publishing
• Date de parution: 20 août 2013
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781783012145
• Langue: English

Extrait

Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Acknowledgements
Fae Name Pronunciation Guide
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
A Note from the Author
Caledonia Fae by India Drummond
Age of Druids
by
India Drummond
Age of Druids

Copyright © 2013, India Drummond

Editing by Susan Helene Gottfried http://www.westofmars.com/

First electronic publication: August 2013

E-books are not transferable. All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorised reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed a real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale, or organisations is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United Kingdom, 2013
Acknowledgements
Writing the Caledonia Fae series has been a labour of love, and I am extremely grateful to everyone who was involved in the production process.
My editors and beta readers over the series have helped me make this series so much better. I owe a huge thank you to Susan Gottfried, L.J. Sellers, Marsha Moore, K.C. May, Herb Wamboldt, David McIntire, Dorian Marshall, Mollie Cox Bryan, Patti Larsen, and Ella McIntire.
I also want to thank my friend Robin Dreeke, who worked with me to hash out some tricky situations and whose insight enabled me to get to know my characters better.
Most of all, I want to thank my readers. When I started writing this series, I had no idea how popular it would become. My biggest hope was to get my books into a few people’s hands, to share my worlds, and bring a bit of enjoyment to those readers. Your emails, letters, messages, tweets, posts, and reviews have motivated and buoyed me, making my work on these novels an absolute joy. I don’t know if you’ll ever understand how much your kind words have meant to me. Thank you.
Fae Name Pronunciation Guide
In order of appearance:
Alyssa: ah-LISS-ah Tràth: TRATH Paeter: PEH-tehr Leocort: LEE-oh-cort Flùranach: FLOO-ran-ak Eilidh: AY-lee Oszlár: AHZ-laar Muime: MOO-eem Takani: TAH-kah-ni Koen: ko-uhn Griogair: gree-GAIR Konstanze: KAWN-stanz Oron: oh-RON Setir: SEHT-eer Cadhla: KY-lah Oszlár: AHZ-laar Fiyr: FEE-ir Hon: HAWN Grenna: GREHN-ah Holin: hah-LEEN Gitan: GET-ahn
Chapter 1
“My lord druid,” Alyssa said. “The woman persists in trying to follow our trail.” The novice Mistwatcher stood, her back straight, black hair whipping around her face as a spring breeze shivered across the Colorado hillside. She’d only joined the Druid Hall recently, but with the rebuilding and expansion in the Halls of Mist, they weren’t turning anyone away. Her inexperience made her both eager to learn and desperate to impress.
Munro stopped and turned, his keen eyesight unable to penetrate the dense trees behind them. “How long has she been with us?”
“Two hours,” Alyssa replied. “Perhaps you can guide Lady Joy while I take care of the human?”
“We’re nearly there.” He held out his arm and let Alyssa bring Joy to his side. Alyssa’s astral illusions made the Zalian look different, her fae appearance hidden beneath. The Mistwatcher had turned Joy’s red skin a rich brown, lengthened her black hair, and concealed the scars criss-crossing her arms. A simple deception of the flows hid the shining spirit magic in her sightless eyes. Munro still owned some human clothing, but the two fae women wore as close an imitation of modern style as fae tailors could approximate.
Munro put a hand reassuringly over Joy’s as she took his arm. To Alyssa he added, “Confuse the human, but don’t hurt her. This trail will be treacherous for her in the dark. I’m surprised she was able to follow this long.” He paused. “Don’t stray far. We must stick together.”
Alyssa saluted him with a thump of her fist to her chest. “As you command.” She stole away silently.
Joy shivered, so Munro took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. The fae tolerated extremes of temperature that would be unbearable for a human, but Joy was from a warm climate. She’d never experienced snow before this trek to the Colorado Plateau. At least they hadn’t come in the dead of winter. “Thank you,” she said, one of the first English phrases she’d mastered. Her language skills were progressing at an astonishing rate, although she still occasionally used a translator.
“You’re welcome,” he said and smiled even though she wouldn’t see him. He glanced at the path ahead. “Let’s keep going. Alyssa will catch up.” Guiding her, he moved slowly over the rocky trail. Although her physical eyes were blind, she had what she called spirit vision, which allowed her to perceive living beings and their auras. On the other hand, inanimate objects were a wall of blackness to her, so she had to move cautiously on unfamiliar terrain. On this journey, Alyssa had acted as both occasional interpreter and guide. Although the Mistwatcher did her duty well enough, Munro suspected she was relieved for the opportunity to chase off this human who’d tracked them through Mesa Verde in the dead of night.
Munro’s acute hearing picked up an occasional rustle nearby. He recognised the agile footfalls of a faerie in the trees. “Is the human gone?” His voice trailed into the wind.
A moment’s pause drifted in silence before Alyssa appeared. “Yes, my lord druid,” she said.
They’d passed under the ancient cliffs where, seven hundred years ago, the Ancestral Pueblo people had lived in sandstone dwellings carved into the ledges. Excitement fluttered in Munro’s chest as they approached their destination. This general area was where the druids Huck and Demi had last been seen. Munro had spent months scouring the vast forest, bringing Mistwatchers, trackers, and now Joy, the only spirit fae in the Druid Hall. Not everyone agreed with his request. Aaron, her bonded druid, didn’t want to be separated from her. But Munro had found something interesting, a site that may have drawn Huck and Demi. To investigate further, he needed Joy. More specifically, he needed access to the flows of her spirit magic.
A few hundred yards ahead on a hillside thick with trees, they wound to a clearing. Munro guided Joy, who moved through the forest with grace despite her inability to see-not to mention the discomfort all fae experienced when away from the Otherworld. Once past the brush, Joy’s face lit with delight. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered in a hushed, reverent tone.
Alyssa raised an eyebrow. Munro understood the unspoken question. The site was a decayed ruin. Hidden in the trees, covered with scrubby brush and overgrown weeds stood crumbling, ancient stone pillars. Munro had only found the place by accident and with the help of the runic flute given to him by Ewain, the elder druid. “Can you describe what you perceive?” he asked Joy.
She held out a hand toward the pillars, and he guided her as close as the thorny brush would allow. “The runes dance,” she said, her empty gaze flitting around as though she watched a flurry of invisible butterflies.
“Alyssa?” He glanced at the tall warrior faerie. “Do you sense anything?”
“Nothing,” she said. “But my attention is divided with the illusions I must cast.”
“You can drop the illusions if you need to,” he told her. He’d grown so accustomed to his wife Eilidh’s level of astral power that he’d forgotten few others would be able to match her focus and ability.
When Alyssa nodded, Joy’s skin turned its natural crimson shade once more. Her ears spiralled back in a delicate curl and her scars reappeared. Although she had fewer scars and her once-missing eyes had been reshaped thanks to the healing talent of young Jago, her arms still bore distinct, pale lines like veins in red marble.
An audible gasp sounded from within a nearby thicket. With a whispered incantation, an elemental sword appeared in Alyssa’s hand, and she darted for the source of the sound.
“Hold!” Munro shouted. The Mistwatcher froze mid-stride. The druid stepped toward the brush. “Who are you? Why are you following us?” he asked, then lifted the runic flute to his lips and blew softly. Tendrils of light and colour emerged, revealing a figure cowering behind the foliage. Green swirls of fear disturbed the spirit current. “We won’t hurt you,” he said gently, waving Alyssa to stand down. With a scowl, the Mistwatcher released the sword, which vanished. Her body remained taut and ready to attack in an instant.
Munro moved slowly, not wanting to startle the woman. She’d chased them so doggedly that he couldn’t help being impressed. Few humans had the talent to outwit a Mistwatcher, but Joy’s blindness slowed them down, making them a much easier target. Even with that, following their trail shouldn’t have been simple. Pulling back the branches, he met the woman’s eyes and recognised her at once. He’d seen her photograph three months before, when he started looking for Huck and Demi. She looked thinner and had dark circles under her eyes, but he was certain she was Anna Webster, Huck’s sister. “I’m Quinton Munro. A friend.”
She hesitated before grasping his outstretched hand. With a wary gaze toward Alyssa and Joy, she came out of her hiding place. “Where’s my brother?” she asked with a pronounced Texas drawl.
He frowned. Anna had disappeared only days after her brother vanished from a Colorado hotel. Munro had hoped they were together. “When di