Chapter 7
Kerry woke, gasping. She put a shaking hand to her brow as she sat on the edge of the bed. Sweat beaded her face, and her heart raced so fast that she feared it would never slow. It wasn’t fear that assaulted her but…excitement.
She reached for the glass of water on the table and drank it in three huge gulps.
“It was just a dream,” she murmured.
Yet the images replayed in her head, over and over.
The young Druid sleeping in her bed, utterly unaware of the danger that seeped into her house.
It slid beneath doors and between cracks until it filled her bedroom, wrapping around her like a cocoon.
When she finally woke, finally realized that she wasn’t alone, it was too late. The mist couldn’t be budged.
The Druid had opened her mouth to scream. The mist dove into her mouth, down her throat, and sucked the wind from her lungs. Her body jerked and fought as magic filled her hands, but it was too little, too late. She was dead within seconds.
Kerry shook her head and pushed her aging body to its feet.
She shuffled to the chair where her robe lay and slid her arms into the garment’s sleeves before belting it.
A glance at the clock told her it was just after half past two in the morning.
After a dream like that, she doubted she would get back to sleep.
She put on her slippers and made her way into the kitchen.
It took her three tries to light a match to start the burner to heat some water.
As she turned to look out the window over the sink, it showed her reflection.
She didn’t know when the years had caught up with her.
It’d seemed to happen so quickly. Not that she had ever been pretty.
Even her mother had told her that her looks wouldn’t win her a man—it would be the strength of her magic.
Kerry had held onto that well into her late forties.
Even when she moved into her fifties and then her sixties, the kernel of hope that she would find love had always been there.
But it was never to be.
Her magic, however, had brought her greater rewards. When she had been asked to be one of Corann’s deputies, the day had been almost as great as she imagined her wedding would’ve been. That was when she realized that if she couldn’t have love, she would pour her soul into Skye and her people.
And that’s exactly what she had done for the last thirty years.
Three decades as a deputy, first to Corann and then to Rhona before the position had been taken away.
Kerry had been manipulated by the Fae Others, and Rhona and Balladyn had figured it out—which was probably the only reason she remained alive.
Still, they’d stripped her position from her.
When she walked from the prison created just for Druids deep within the Red Hills of Skye, she had sworn to herself that she wouldn’t hide in her cottage. She would face whatever rumors and whispers awaited her.
The first few days hadn’t been terribly difficult.
Then, after her section had learned that she was no longer deputy when they announced her replacement, her phone had rung continuously.
First, they wanted to know if she had stepped aside because she was ill.
A part of Kerry wanted to lie because the truth was so much harder.
But it would come out eventually. It was better if she was the one to say it. So, she did.
Between the calls and visits, she repeated the story so many times it became rote.
Oh, everyone showed righteous anger on her behalf for what the Fae Others had done, and then outrage for Rhona replacing her.
And her so-called friends said and did all the right things.
But having been deputy for so long, Kerry had learned one precious truth—everyone gossiped.
The more titillating the story, the more widespread the talk.
Continuing her normal routine after that was an exhausting, taxing exercise in futility.
But she did it. And she kept her head high.
After all, she hadn’t done anything wrong.
She had stood up for Rhona and the Skye Druids.
It wasn’t her fault that whoever she had been emailing had managed to manipulate her.
She could admit that not showing Rhona the emails was wrong.
When she went to Glasgow to see her sister, she had intended to meet with the person she had been exchanging emails with, only to reiterate that she didn’t think the Druids should create a group of Others.
She was the one who had helped the Fae Others set Rhona up to be killed in Belfast.
What Kerry hadn’t told anyone was that she remembered that part. She knew the Druids she had called to await Rhona’s arrival the night she should have died. Kerry didn’t know why she recalled that bit and nothing else, but it hung over her like an ax, waiting to land on her neck.
She turned away from the window when the kettle whistled.
Kerry had never liked looking at herself.
Her hair was limp and thin, her body carrying extra weight that the doctor said wasn’t good for her heart.
Her people hadn’t respected or liked her because she was pretty or thin or because she had great hair.
They had come to her with their problems because she was always there for them. Now, that was gone.
Where did that leave her?
Kerry dropped the tea bag into her cup and poured the boiling water over it.
As the tea steeped, she carried the cup to the table with its two chairs.
She slowly lowered herself onto one, hearing the creaks in her knees.
A bowl of sweets sat in the middle of the table.
She always made sure to have her pockets full of them.
The children knew it and rushed to her whenever she was about.
With every day that passed since her removal as deputy, fewer and fewer children ran to her.
Before, she rarely had a meal by herself in the pub because her people would come to talk to her. Now, they left her alone completely. They didn’t completely shun her, but they were subdued. It was like a knife being repeatedly thrust into her back.
She didn’t have many years left. Would she spend them like this? Alone and angry and hurt? She didn’t have a husband or children. No other family for her on Skye. The Druids had been her family, and now, she had lost them, too.
Kerry thought about the dream again. It had felt real.
Too real. As if she had been in the room with the Druid.
She couldn’t recall the Druid’s name as she wasn’t one of those in Kerry’s area, but she recognized her face.
Maybe she should go to Rhona and tell her.
Or, at the very least, contact the other deputies and alert them.
No. It was better to just forget it. It was a dream and nothing more.
After everything she had been through, it made sense that her brain would fabricate something awful.
She needed to feel wanted again. This was her subconscious giving her that reason.
But in the end, it would only cause her more heartache.
She was an outcast now. Shunned and avoided.
She’d better get used to that. If she had thought her days had been lonely before, she would learn just how bad it could get.
Kerry removed the tea bag, poured milk into her cup, and stirred. She tapped the spoon on the side of the teacup and set it on the saucer. As she lifted the tea to her lips, she froze at the sound of drums.
Her heart jumped into her throat. The fact that the Ancients continued to speak to her meant that she was still relevant, still important to Skye.
She listened to hear the voices once more.
Kerry got to her feet and closed her eyes.
The Ancients conversed in a thousand voices—until only one spoke to her, reminding her that she had been used.
The Ancients were known for their riddles, but one had silenced all the others and had spoken to Kerry in clear, concise words.
Had the Ancient returned? The woman’s voice had been steely, unforgiving.
Kerry had failed the Skye Druids. She had failed herself.
Maybe she would get the chance to fix everything.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to forget you were used.”
The Ancient’s voice was just as clear as before. Kerry whirled around as it sounded right behind her. There was nothing there, though. “I haven’t.”
“You’re letting the Druids dictate who you are.”
The Ancients were wise. They weren’t all-knowing, but they were deliberate in who they chose to speak with. She must have done something good to have one come to her. “I’ve spent my life serving the Druids on Skye.”
“And now they determine your role. Only a victim would allow that. I know you remember contacting the Druids who agreed to kill Rhona.”
Kerry took a step back as the voice sounded all around her. She swallowed hard.
“You remember much more than that. Don’t you?”
She did, but she had never uttered the words aloud. After she’d read the email exchange between her and the Fae Others, her memories had returned. All of them.
“Don’t you?” the Ancient repeated in a hard tone.
Kerry nodded slowly. “I do.”
“What did you feel when you wrote those emails?”
Kerry hesitated. Could she say the words aloud?
Did she dare? If she admitted the truth, everything she was, everything she had worked to be would crumble like sand.
Not speaking the words didn’t erase them from her mind.
They were there. Always. She tried to ignore them, tried to forget. But she couldn’t.
“I believe every word I wrote,” Kerry said in a rush.
She gasped at the freeing sensation that washed through her.
She put her hands on the back of the chair and laughed.
Why hadn’t she done that sooner? “The Druids are vanishing. Things need to change. Even on Skye. We hold the numbers, but for how much longer? The Fae Others nearly defeated us. If our allies hadn’t joined us, they would have.
I don’t care what anyone says about Rhona and Balladyn. We could’ve lost.”
“Aye. The very way of life the Druids have come to know would end.”
“That can’t happen.” Kerry straightened. “I won’t let it.”
“Just what we wanted to hear.”
“What do you want me to do?”
There was a long stretch of silence before the Ancient said, “You’ve already begun.”
Kerry frowned, not understanding. “What do you mean?”
“You’ll know the Druids you need to target. Those who won’t serve fully.”
“Those who don’t see the big picture.”
“Exactly. We’ve given you something to use that will help. You dreamed of it tonight.”
Kerry’s heart missed a beat. “The mist?”
“Don’t let us down.”
“Wait,” Kerry said. “Why me?”
“No one else is capable of hearing us.”
“Yet, you’re one voice.”
The Ancient chuckled. “Only the strongest of Druids can hear us in one voice and hear us clearly.”
“Oh.” Kerry couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face. Her mother had often spoken about how powerful her magic was, and this proved it. Corann had never talked about hearing one Ancient. No one had, at least that Kerry was aware of. Especially not Rhona.
Kerry was so deep in thought that it took her a moment to realize the drums had faded to silence.
The Ancients were gone. She was sad about that, but she also knew they would return.
Because, apparently, only the strongest heard them so clearly and in one voice.
She giggled at that. Oh, how she wanted to shout that all through Skye and rub everyone’s noses in it.
Rhona had removed her as deputy because she couldn’t trust Kerry anymore.
Well, Kerry had a surprise for her. The more Rhona pushed against the change; the more Kerry would ensure it happened.
She wouldn’t start with the leader of the Druids.
No, Rhona’s turn would come last. Kerry wanted her and Balladyn to see what they had done by stripping such a proud Druid of her position.
Then again, why should she stop there? She had more magic than Rhona did. She could easily take Rhona’s place as leader.
Kerry smiled, no longer feeling the ache in her bones or fear from the dream. She found a pen and some paper and sat to begin writing out her list of names.