“If they don’t, they soon will. Their talents in the Ways of Earth are unparalleled. The earth itself will tell them where his foot tread. The wind will carry his scent.”
Munro grumbled to himself. Why couldn’t they have talents like that on their side? Suddenly he realised they did. Griogair could help track his son. Munro wasn’t wild about the unpredictability of counting on someone personally involved in an investigation, but he had little choice. He told Griogair what he was thinking.
“I will help in whatever way I can,” the prince said. “Just show me the way.”
“No,” Eilidh said. “It’s too dangerous. There are many gates between here and Ashdawn, and every inch of the borderlands could be filled with ten times the usual number of Watchers. Your Highness, she knows where you are and what you’ll want to do. You cannot sacrifice yourself for Trath. Think of the kingdom. It needs you to stay alive.”
Munro stood his ground. “I don’t know if I can find Trath without his help. We don’t even understand what happened to him.”
“Too bad none of us is bonded to his son,” Aaron said. “We could lead you right to him.”
Munro stared for a moment.
“What?” Aaron said. “I was just thinking out loud.” Then he muttered, “Sorry.”
“No, he’s right. All of you have to come with us,” Munro said to the other druids. “If there’s even a remote chance one of you can bond with him, it would be worth it. If you are compatible, you’d be able to feel it right away. It might induce him to trust us. We didn’t have a lot of luck with that last time we encountered him.” He paused. “What we need is a plan.”
“What are his powers exactly?” Phillip asked. “It might help us figure out what he
would
do, if we understand what he
could
do.”
Munro looked at Griogair. “What can you tell us about your son’s abilities?”
“It’s hard to explain, really. We always discouraged him from practising. His mother…” He hesitated. “I can barely bring myself to call her that after what she’s done.” His tone was tight and angry. “Cadhla sought help in restricting the forbidden flows. She called in a few experts, but only people she trusted implicitly, and that list is short.”
“What were the signs?” Eilidh asked, stepping forward and sitting beside Griogair. “When I was a girl, I would cast illusions without thinking, influence my teachers to change their minds, let me off my lessons. Did Trath do things like that?”
Griogair shook his head. “No, it was very different with him.”
Eilidh sighed. “He must be of the blood then,” she said.
Munro explained the distinction to the other druids. “There are only two remaining types of azuri or higher magic, astral, like Oron’s people have, and blood.”
“Like Cridhe,” Douglas said quietly.
Munro nodded.
“And you think Trath is like Cridhe?” The young druid’s voice was tight with fear. Cridhe had nearly killed them all.
Munro looked at Eilidh. “What would be the early signs?”
“Oron says the simplest manifestations of the blood shadows would all have to do with control of the physical form. He might be able to stop an animal’s heart if he had a dark nature, but he might also be able to heal it. He could possibly change his eye colour, his hair or skin colour, but unlike the illusions of the astral flows, they would be real, physical changes. His senses would be keener at the very least.”
Griogair shook his head. “No, nothing like that. It’s hard to explain. He was a difficult child.” He seemed apologetic.
Phillip turned to Eilidh. “Munro said there were two
remaining
types of azuri magic. Were there others?”
“Yes,” she said slowly. “Millenia ago, but the talents died out. They no longer exist.”
“What were they?” he pressed.
“One was called spirit or soul magic. Like blood magic, it was often used for dark purposes. There were many practices that taint our history. The resurrection of the dead to a half-life, the enslavement of others. Even among the azuri, those who wielded those flows were feared and even shunned. The other lost art was temporal.”
“Temporal?” Rory asked.
“Time,” she said. “This form was the most rare. It was said that—”
“Time,” Griogair interupted. “That’s it.”
“Your Highness,” she said softly, “that’s not possible. No one can wield temporal flows anymore. No one even remembers how the power worked. There are only the vaguest references to it in any of our surviving documents.”
Griogair looked up, excited. “He would sometimes be reported in two places at once. He would claim he’d been away for days, when it had only been minutes. Other times he would disappear for a week, but insist he’d not gone anywhere at all. I always thought he was lying to annoy his mother, but now, looking back, it seems obvious.”
Munro turned to Eilidh. “What does this mean?”
She stood. “It means that Trath must be protected, no matter the cost.” She looked down at Griogair, who still seemed shaken, although his expression at least now seemed determined and hopeful. “I’ll get Oron. We need a plan.”
It took some convincing for Oron and the others to agree the druids should follow Eilidh, Griogair, and Munro to Auchterarder. Every member of the Higher Conclave wanted the first shot at the druids, and none were crazy about the idea of a druid bonding with Griogair’s son. He might be talented with azuri magic, but he was untrained, and more importantly, he wasn’t one of
them
. Eilidh had given Oron the bad news that none of the druids felt a connection with any of the elders. He sighed, clearly disappointed, but agreed that one who could feel temporal flows must be saved.
The two faeries rode with Munro in his car. They wanted to run, but even with their incredible speed and strength, the journey would take too long on foot. The other druids rode together and would wait in Perth until Munro called them from his mobile, telling them it was safe to approach Auchterarder.
Munro insisted they play a part, but Eilidh wasn’t so sure. To her, they seemed like any other human men. They were decent, she supposed, but they didn’t seem special like Munro. She knew it was the bond talking, but perhaps something more as well.
They drove to Munro’s house in Perth and ran from there to Auchterarder, thinking it best to make a cautious approach. It would also give the faeries time to recover from the drive. Neither had an easy time with the confinement in a vehicle, and their discomfort made Munro uneasy driving. Taking a few minutes to breathe the fresh air would do them all good.
As they closed the last couple of miles to Auchterarder, she felt Munro close behind, heard his heavy footsteps in the darkness. They’d had to take a slightly circuitous route to avoid the kingdom gates and patrolling Watchers. Yet between her use of mental misdirection and confusion when they did encounter a patrol, and Griogair’s connection with water and stone telling him if any were near, they’d managed to carve a path that hadn’t taken too much extra time.
They approached the village in a roundabout way, avoiding streets and shops Munro knew would have CCTV. Eilidh didn’t quite understand how they created pictures of people and played them back later without using magic, but she did appreciate Munro’s insistence on caution. The three climbed through back gardens. In one, they attracted the notice of a large black dog, who whined and eyed them curiously, clearly confused at their scent.
When they were at a house near the one where Trath had disappeared, Munro made a call on his mobile. “We’re here,” he said quietly into the small black device. He disconnected and said to Eilidh and Griogair, “Wait here. I’ll check the perimeter and confirm with Hallward, then you two climb up when it’s clear.”
Griogair nodded. “Thank you,” he said.
Munro looked wary. “Don’t thank me yet.” With deft movements he could not have managed a few short weeks ago, he scaled the fence dividing the two gardens. Eilidh heard his feet hit the ground on the other side with a thud. “Sarge,” Munro said.
Eilidh reached out and took Griogair’s hand. He seemed surprised, but grateful. “He can do this,” she whispered. “We’ll find your son.”
They listened as Munro talked to Sergeant Hallward. It had been at Munro’s insistence that they allow the human policeman to help. The house would be watched, Munro explained, and it would be easier to work with the police than to try and hide from them or circumvent their investigation. Hallward could ensure they were not disturbed.
“We have a group of four others coming,” Munro explained. “Humans. Druids, like me. We’ll need them to help in the event we do see Prince Trath. They’ll arrive by car in a little while.”
“You can have the property for an hour to do what you need. Have them pull up in a driveway two streets over,” Hallward said quietly. “It’ll look strange to see cars coming and going on this road. With the disappearances, no one is home. We’ve managed to keep most of the area inside the cordon clear, but we aren’t the only ones watching. With the press, well, you know how it is. Have you seen the reports on the news?” He paused, but Eilidh couldn’t hear Munro’s answer. “Count yourself lucky. We’re getting hammered this time. One hour. That’s what I can give you.” Another pause. “You think this will work?” Eilidh recognised the scepticism in his voice.
“I think if it doesn’t, we’re never going to see any of those missing people again,” Munro said. “Eilidh and another friend are here to help. I’ll go signal them in.”
“All right. I’ll be out front. And Munro?”
“Yes, Sarge?”
“We need to talk. Find me when you’re done here.” Eilidh couldn’t read what he meant by his tone, and she couldn’t hear Munro’s reply, but it was only a moment before Munro whispered through the fence that it was clear to come over.
The plan was simple. Griogair would use his earth magic to track Trath, and Eilidh would use her limited psychic abilities as a second locator, the thinking being that she might be able to sense a mind out of sync. Everyone else was much more confident in her abilities than she was. People talked about her talents and
vast potential
, but she didn’t see it. Her efforts were always stymied by a century of trying to stifle her forbidden abilities. She couldn’t turn off those instincts overnight. But everyone was counting on her, so she had to try.
Munro had a part to play as well. If more natural means failed, he and Griogair would use the star talisman Munro had crafted. She had an intuition that it amplified Griogair’s essence, and guessed that it could help attract Trath’s attention. No one knew if it would work, and Eilidh worried their combined power would only attract the attention of the
rafta,
who might be nearby. The other druids, once they arrived, were the line of last resort. If one of them was compatible with the crown prince, she knew from experience it would be a powerful inducement for him to reveal himself.
Munro sat in a white plastic chair on the patio. Eilidh still hadn’t had a chance to speak to him alone since he’d come back from Portree with the others. His calm focus centred her, though. She didn’t know if they would get back to the sweet, comfortable relationship they had before, but she drew strength from him now. As she thought about him, he looked up and smiled. She felt reassured, and had a new confidence that everything would be all right.
While Griogair paced around the back garden, speaking to the paving stones and touching individual blades of grass, she opened herself to the astral plane. Her vision shifted, and she saw them all from above. Her senses grew sharp, and she noticed what appeared to be a blue bubble that extended over several houses. Slowly and methodically, she investigated it. She couldn’t help but wonder if all the humans within this area had been the ones who disappeared. It couldn’t be a coincidence.
After some time, she opened her eyes to find Griogair standing in front of her, pacing back and forth. Munro was gone. “What happened?” she asked.
“The earth,” Griogair said bitterly, “for the first time in my life, it’s lying to me.”
“What do you mean?”
“The stones, the earth, the drops of water. every natural voice in this place has told me Trath is
here
. They say he never left this place.”
Eilidh, although powerful in the Ways of Earth since she bonded with Munro, was inexperienced. She put her hand to the ground and listened. She shook her head with frustration. “The bubble won’t let me hear him.”
“Bubble?” Griogair stopped pacing and looked at her.
She opened her mouth to explain what she’d seen, but just then, Munro came through the front gate, leading the four druids. “Any luck?” he asked.
As best she could, she described what she’d seen.
Munro nodded. “It does sound like it covers the area where the people disappeared.” He turned to Griogair, “So, you think none of them actually left?”