Chapter 21 #2
“He’s already close to death, and I need him alive.” Vade nudged him again.
The druid’s eyes opened, the whites of his eyes greeting Orelia before they rolled forward and his gaze met hers. He didn’t seem surprised to see two strangers staring down at him.
“Come to finish me off?” he asked in a scratchy voice.
Vade started to speak, but Orelia grabbed his arm and leveled him with a look saying she should be the one to talk.
To her surprise, the fae conceded and took a step back.
Orelia gave the druid a reassuring smile. “I’m so sorry to disturb you Mr. Devlin, but my friend and I are in desperate need of your help.”
Devlin tried to sit up and immediately began coughing. Orelia set Bute’s jar down and helped ease the man into a sitting position, adding more pillows behind his back.
“Thank you,” he grumbled as he adjusted his lime-colored robes. Yellow-green eyes blinked a few times, then slid to Vade.
“A fae,” he said before taking a sip from a drinking horn on his bedside table. “Ugh.” Devlin looked into the horn. “Tea’s gone cold. Be a dear and fetch me a new cup, will you, miss?”
She was surprised at how polite he was being for having just been startled awake by two people who weren’t supposed to be there. Orelia took the white and black horn she suspected once belonged to a batalin and made her way to a hearth across the room.
“It was a gift,” the druid said. “I pulled a young batalin out of some wreckage in Soulbright after a fight broke out many, many years ago between the city Watchers and a band of stiv insurgents.”
She pulled a kettle off the hook above the fire and poured water into the horn. Orelia searched the crowded table for honey and found a jar hidden between stacks of books. She added a spoonful of the thick amber liquid to the tea and stirred it in with a spoon.
“The batalins in Soulbright couldn’t keep the insurgents out, and apparently mine couldn’t keep the two of you out, either.”
She tossed him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry to have done that. My friend here doesn’t exactly know how to take ‘no’ for an answer.”
Orelia added a dash of cinnamon, stirring the tea as she made her way back to the bed. “I added some honey and cinnamon. I find it helps the throat and warms the belly the best.” She offered the man a smile as his shaky, wrinkled hands took the horn from her.
“That’s very kind of you, miss.” Devlin took a long sip, then leaned his head back against the feather pillows and sighed.
“Now, what is it I can do for the two of you? Though I’ll think you’ll find I’m not in the best of shape to do much, even if it is something as small as helping this little berr frog you brought.
” He looked at Bute, who watched the druid with bright eyes that Orelia could swear were curious.
Vade stood at the foot of the bed. “We need a binding spell reversed.”
The druid took a sip from his steaming cup. “A wizard couldn’t do this for you?”
Orelia sat on the edge of the bed. “It was a binding spell I was trying to use on my garden to get it to grow. I’m a witch, and I thought by combining my natural healing with the spell it would work, but I accidentally bound myself to him instead.”
Devlin set the horn down. “Explain to me exactly how it happened.”
Vade took over the conversation. “She hit me in the chest with some pink light and it absorbed into me. Now when one of us strays too far from the other, it feels like being torn apart inside.”
“Hmm,” the druid mumbled, fiddling with the many rings adorning his fingers. Colorful gemstones filled the settings, gleaming in the midday light coming through the windows.
“You better have more than ‘hmm’ for me,” Vade said.
Orelia cut him a look.
He shrugged.
“Excuse him. I’d like to offer an explanation as to why he is the way he is, but the fact is he’s just rude.”
Vade glared at her while the druid chuckled. “The fae are a straightforward, no-nonsense bunch. I’m used to it.” Devlin gestured at Orelia. “Though, you could try being kinder like this lovely woman here.”
The fae huffed, crossing his arms.
“Can you help us? We have coin,” she offered.
“Coin is not my concern, miss. Unfortunately, I am too weak to perform such reversals. I can barely do much these days, as age has finally caught up to me.”
Vade looked like he was about to lose it. “Are you serious?”
“Quite, my boy.” Devlin grabbed his horn and took another sip of tea.
Vade began pacing. “This is fucking unbelievable . . .”
“Is there another druid here who could do it?” Orelia asked. Surely in the Druidic Temple there were plenty of others who could help them.
Devlin put a cold hand on hers. “Dorsey is a place for young druids to study, and there is not one here that I would trust with such delicate dealings. A spell not intended for lives must be handled with mastered hands.”
“So what the fuck do we do?”
“Vade,” she snapped.
“What? We traveled all this way just to hit a dead end. I have a right to be pissed.”
Orelia pushed her rising anger down and spoke kindly to the druid. “Is there anyone who can help us?”
“There is. But not someone who lives here. Gretern is the Archdruid, and one of the finest I have ever known. You will find her at her keep on the outskirts of Axelton. She trains the top druids from the school here and can reverse the spell for you.” Devlin coughed abruptly.
Orelia quickly pulled a cloth from her pocket and handed it to him. He covered his mouth with it, hacking sounds coming from deep within his throat. When he pulled the cloth away, it was splotched with blood.
“What illness do you have?” she asked. “I don’t mean to pry, but maybe I could help.”
Devlin leaned back against the pillows, breathing heavily. “Your healing will not work on me, young witch. My ailments are from the passage of time.” He coughed again. “It is an honor to die having lived such a life as the one I have been blessed with, so I shall welcome death willingly.”
Her heart pinched. “Can I at least get you more tea? Something to help your throat?”
He chuckled. “You may. The cinnamon was a nice touch.”
While she refilled his cup, she watched the birds fly around the redwood, as colorful as the paints sitting under a blank canvas across the room. Vade continued pacing, but at least he was quiet.
Orelia hurried back and handed the man his tea. “The birds are beautiful.”
“See that firetail over there?’ Devlin pointed at the yellow-bodied bird with long, orange tail feathers curling at the ends like ribbons. “That’s my brother.”
She perked up. “Your brother?”
He smiled fondly. “Us druids can take the forms of various animals in life, but death is reserved for birds. A reincarnation into the nature we come from, so that we may soar the skies and roam the world. A beautiful ending to a beautiful life lived.”
“I love that,” Orelia said. “Do you get to choose what kind of bird you become?” she asked as she sat on the edge of the bed.
His eyes drifted to the tree. “We do not get to choose, though I hope to become a white raven. Black is such a dreadful color.”
They both looked at Vade and chuckled. He stood with his arms crossed, decked in darkness, black eyes as angry as ever.
“Let’s go,” Vade said. “He’s at death’s door and can’t help us.”
“Better to be at death’s door arriving as a welcomed guest than an uninvited stranger, young man. You should get right with your gods. I’m sure Death’s Shadow has been close to meeting them more than once.”
Vade’s eyes narrowed.
“You know him?” Orelia asked, perplexed.
The druid smirked. “I have lived a long time, miss. I have heard the stories. The fae who left the Five Points to become an executioner. And a good one, from what I hear.”
Vade spun on his heel and threw out a, “Thanks for nothing,” over his shoulder.
Orelia gently squeezed the druid’s hand. “I am so incredibly sorry for him. Trust me, I wouldn’t be traveling with such a disrespectful person if I didn’t have to.”
He patted her hand. “He needs you more than he knows. He needs someone to show him the light, and I sense you can be that person.”
“I try, but it’s like telling a stone to become water. Impossible.”
Devlin pointed to the waterfall by the great tree and said, “Desintegra.”
Orelia watched as a stream of green light left his fingers and trailed through the air, landing on a stone on top of the waterfall. The stone crumbled as it fell, turning to dust before becoming a stream of water, joining the pool at the fountain’s bottom.
“Nothing is impossible, my dear. Don’t let life make you believe such falsities.”
Orelia grinned, picking up Bute’s jar and setting it on her lap. “Could I leave him here with you? I think he would love to make a home around this beautiful tree. His leg was injured, so I’ve kept him with me while we traveled, but he’s healed now.”
Devlin nodded. “It would be an honor to have him.”
Bute pressed his webbed foot to the side of the jar like he was saying goodbye. His hind leg was curled up nicely, he was alert, and the little frog had finally forgone his mossy hideout. He was ready, but Orelia wasn’t. She wiped at her blurry eyes.
“For a witch, you have the soul of a druid, my dear. We love and honor nature as best we can, and it makes my old heart swell to see someone not of my kind do the same.”
Orelia sniffled, smiling weakly.
“May I give you something in return?” he asked.
Intrigue had her nodding.
Devlin opened the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out a brown feather about the length of her hand.
“This is from my favorite swift. I was the only one allowed to use him, and he delivered many, many messages for me over the years. I considered him one of my greatest friends.” He extended the feather toward her. “I’d like for you to have it.”
Orelia put a hand up. “Oh, I could never take something so important from you, Mr. Devlin. I’m honored, but I could never.”
His thin lips curved into a smile. “Soon, I will have no use for it. I would love to give it to someone who is a friend to nature.” He flicked the feather, and Orelia conceded, accepting the gift.
She smoothed the brown feather between her fingers, thinking of how many miles and places the bird had seen.
“I called him Marlo. I would braid the feather into your hair, but my fingers don’t work so good anymore.”
Only druids wore feathers in their hair, and knowing the Head Druid wanted her to wear it left her overflowing with gratitude.
Orelia kissed him on the forehead, his skin clammy and cold.
“Thank you. And thank you for steering us in the right direction. Though you seem content on passing, I will pray to Lili for more days for you.”
He gave a small nod. “Bless you, my dear.”
Orelia had made it to the door when the druid called out to her. “Tell that fae not to subdue any more of my guards on his way out. I need someone to make me some more of your excellent tea.”
She smiled at the old druid who gave her a polite wave, hoping she would get to see him again one day.
Orelia caught up to Vade in the stairwell, and they managed to slip out of the temple, narrowly avoiding the other guards.
After a slow going of making it through the city without drawing attention, they stopped behind the last building that offered cover.
They were about to move when an arrow whizzed past their heads and broke apart against the wall.
The arrowhead fell to the ground, glowing white.
“Fuck!” Vade scanned the area and crouched, pulling Orelia along the wall with him.
“Told you the guards would find us. But why would batalins have seidr weapons?” she asked as they ducked under an overhang jutting out from the building.
“It isn’t batalins. I have that same unsettling feeling I got in Ricaboro. The same person, or thing, is following us.”
She listened for anything that sounded out of the ordinary, jumping when a bird flew by.
“We need to get out of here, now,” Vade said.
They skirted along the wall, and another arrow nearly nicked Vade’s ear.
“Go!” Vade ordered. The two of them ran, not knowing where the archer was, but knowing they had to get out of the city as fast as possible.
They made it into the forest, and arrows stopped firing. When her heartbeat stopped thrumming in her ears, she noticed the bells tolling.
In the distance, at the top of the Druidic Temple, two bronze bells swung back and forth. Their rhythm cracked a piece of her heart with each toll.
She hoped Devlin got his wish and that one day she’d look to the skies and see a white raven soaring alongside a firetail, both on their way to discovering a new meaning to their afterlife—together.