“But Eilidh’s condition—”
“Won’t be public knowledge for at least a month. I cannot compel you to keep the news from Queen Naima and Princess Imena. However, it would be best for Caledonia if you said she was unwell and didn’t receive you. If you do not try to visit Eilidh, both statements will be true and thus you will not compromise your loyalty.”
“I find it difficult to believe they wouldn’t sympathise when I tell them a good friend and someone who has been like a member of the family died.”
“He may have been
like
a member of the family, but he was human. No doubt they will encourage you to attend his death rites, then resume your duties, which, according to this, will be many.” He tapped the contract.
The steward returned. “Lord Druid Aaron, Your Highnesses.”
Both princes rose, and when Aaron entered, they bowed to him. “Good evening,” Prince Griogair said.
“Hey,” Aaron replied. “Hello, Tràth.”
Tràth quirked a smile at the typically casual response. “Hello,” he said, then turned serious. “I’m so sorry to hear about Munro, may he rest in the bosom of the Mother.”
Aaron gave a small nod. “I was shocked too. We’re struggling with how to move forward and worried about Eilidh, of course,” he said with a gesture toward Griogair.
“Thank you,” Griogair said. “Please. Sit.” He gestured to a seat opposite him.
“I’ll leave you to your discussions,” Tràth said.
“Before you go,” Aaron said, “I need to talk to you, too. About Douglas.”
Tràth stiffened. He’d not planned to see his druid. They’d said what they needed to before he left.
“Look, I understand you’ve been through a lot,” Aaron said.
Tràth interrupted. “You have no idea, Aaron.”
Griogair blinked at the candidness of his son’s response but didn’t say anything.
“I must insist that you listen,” Aaron said. His expression wasn’t unsympathetic, but there was a firmness in his tone Tràth wasn’t accustomed to. “Joy and I completed our bond.”
“Her name is Joy?” Tràth wondered if this was an abbreviation of a fae name or if Aaron had chosen to call her that. “I’m happy for you both.”
“Here’s what this means to you: I understand the bond in a way I never could before. I’ve spoken to Douglas, and he has things to say to you. All I ask is that you listen.”
Tràth shifted uncomfortably. “I’m afraid I won’t have time to visit the Druid Hall. I need to close my house at the Gap of Bria, manage the dissolution of my current staff, speak with the Keepers, address the Caledonian conclave about a teaching envoy to Zalia, and arrange for at least one scholar to accompany me when I return.”
“You’re going to become Imena’s mate.” Aaron’s mouth was set in a grim line.
“I’ve signed the contract outlining our arrangement.”
“Before you do any of that, speak with Douglas. There are facts you aren’t aware of, Tràth. I’d tell you myself, but he needs to be the one to do it.”
Admittedly, the admission piqued Tràth’s interest, but only momentarily. “I’m afraid what you ask is not possible. Perhaps next time.”
Aaron shook his head. “One of the things I didn’t tell you about, only because I never got the chance, happened the day we met Joy. I discovered something in the Zalian archives, writings about the Stone. I hoped Munro would look at them. He was even better with runes than most of the Keepers. With him gone, we will need to send Douglas.”
Tràth felt cold creeping over his skin. “The Keepers can interpret runes for you as easily as Douglas.”
“No,” Aaron said, his voice hard. “They can’t. The Keepers serve their own interests, not those of the Hall.” He sighed. “I count you as a friend. I don’t want this to be more difficult than it must.”
“Why do you not accept my decision?” Tràth asked. “If you recall, the choice wasn’t entirely mine. Douglas made his wishes clear.”
Aaron gritted his teeth as though restraining his temper.
Griogair interrupted and addressed Tràth. “Would you find it so difficult to do as the druid lord requests?”
“I would,” Tràth said. He turned to Aaron. “I understand you believe you’re helping both of us, but we’ve chosen our path.”
“You
will
speak to Douglas. Tonight.” Aaron’s gaze was unrelenting.
Tràth blinked. Aaron was
commanding
him? He paused in stunned silence. “You would threaten me?”
Aaron shook his head. “I shouldn’t have to. I am draoidh, and my word is law.”
Anger made Tràth flush, but he recognised he had no choice. He stood stiffly. “Very well, my lord druid,” he said and bowed. He waited a moment. He nearly expected Aaron to say he was joking and wouldn’t use his position to force Tràth to do this, but the druid didn’t budge. Instead, he tilted his head in acknowledgement of Tràth’s acquiescence.
“Now, if you’ll excuse us, I need to speak to Prince Griogair on other matters.” Aaron gestured to the door.
“You’ve changed,” Tràth said.
“Aye,” Aaron said. “Life has given us all difficult choices lately. I’m sorry it had to be this way. I hope there won’t be any hard feelings, but I have my reasons.”
“Of course,” Tràth said. He bowed again to Aaron and nodded to his father, who had watched the exchange with rapt interest. Tràth left the study and walked into the corridor. He proceeded slowly, but he had no choice but to do what Aaron demanded. With no excuse for delay, he headed toward the Druid Hall.
Tràth entered the courtyard of the Druid Hall and stood, contemplating the wondrous artefacts the druids had built, the lifelike statues, the contained but flowing water, the way they’d incorporated design from their homeland with faerie influence. Despite their humble origins, they were remarkable people. No faerie could pass through this simple, garden-like courtyard and fail to be awed by the subtle hints of their immense but restrained power.
“Your Highness?” a voice inquired. Tràth had become so lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed Hon, the head steward, approach.
Tràth tried to smile, but the clenching in his gut made the gesture difficult. “Would you please tell Lord Druid Douglas I would like to see him?”
Confusion crossed Hon’s face for an instant. Tràth was one of the few permitted to come and go in the Druid Hall as he pleased. He didn’t need an invitation to go up. “Of course,” Hon said and bowed.
Tràth half-hoped Douglas either wasn’t in or would refuse to see him. How strange it was to be unable to sense Douglas’ presence, to
know
the other man’s state of mind or even be certain where he was.
Within a few moments, the steward returned. “Lord Druid Douglas has invited you to his private sitting room,” he said and gestured toward the broad inner stair. Tràth nodded with resignation and followed the steward, even though the way was familiar. “He’s asked me to send up a light meal and requested that you stay and join him.”
Could he refuse? Tràth sighed.
Better not.
Although this would be a personal conversation, he was having it at the command of a druid lord. Any disagreeableness on his part would reflect on Zalia now. He wondered how far Aaron might go if Tràth didn’t do as directed. On the other hand, all Aaron demanded was that Tràth listen to Douglas. He would do so and be polite in the process. “Very well,” Tràth said. “Thank you.”
Hon stopped and bowed at the archway to Douglas’ suite, leaving Tràth to enter alone. Whatever Tràth expected to find, it certainly wasn’t the chaos that greeted him. Large wooden packing boxes littered the room, most half-stuffed with clothing or personal items, as well as one crate full of runed artefacts. Everything appeared as though he was planning to leave and never return. Tràth’s stomach tightened.
A few moments later, Douglas emerged from the bathing chamber, drying his hands as though he’d just washed. He looked tired, haggard even, for one so young. “Hi,” he said softly.
Tràth nodded, not trusting his own voice.
Douglas indicated the seating area with a tilt of his head. “Sorry about the mess. I wasn’t expecting anyone. I had no idea you were in the Halls of Mist.” The last sentence came out with a small measure of hurt.
“I arrived earlier tonight,” Tràth said, following Douglas through the disorder of crates to a pair of chairs. “I needed to deliver some papers to my father in person.” He paused. “I was saddened to hear about Munro, may he rest in the bosom of the Mother.”
“Thanks.” With a gesture, he invited Tràth to sit. They did so in silence. A hundred questions danced within the druid’s grey eyes, but he paused as though uncertain where to begin. “Right,” Douglas said awkwardly.
“I was at the Caledonian Hall when Aaron arrived. He told me, commanded me, in fact, to speak with you.”
Douglas winced. “That’s…uncomfortable.”
Tràth tilted his head. “He told me you have business in Zalia, some work at the archives?” With a wave to the crates and piles stacked all over the room, he added, “You plan to leave soon?”
“I need to get away from the Hall,” Douglas said. The urgency in his tone surprised Tràth.
“Has something happened?”
Douglas shifted uncomfortably and told him about his slowly building feelings of addiction to the Source Stone, the compelling need to feed it, and the overwhelming sensation of irritation when he tried to resist. “None of this makes sense, but I believe the Stone
wanted
me to push you away,” he said. He looked at his hands, not meeting Tràth’s gaze. “It’s no excuse. I said terrible things…things I didn’t mean.”
Confusion wafted over Tràth for the first time since he’d buried their connection. He couldn’t test the validity of Douglas’ claims. Still, he’d never known Douglas to lie outright. Blind without the bond to guide him, he realised he wanted to believe Douglas. He chastised himself for the sentimentality. He’d heard the apology before. After a moment, Tràth asked, “Why would the Stone want you to push me away?” The concept baffled him, but he couldn’t deny the artefact did have an almost sentient nature.
“I don’t know,” Douglas said. “I realise how bonkers I sound. I wouldn’t believe me either.” He glanced in the direction of the portal. “It still calls me. It wants something from me and sees you as an obstacle to my attention.”
Emotion made Tràth’s throat thick. “Am I?”
“Very much so,” Douglas said quietly. “I thought the bond made me love you. I was wrong.”
Tràth looked into Douglas’ grey eyes. “How can you be certain?”
“I can’t feel the bond anymore. When you were in Zalia, the connection was slight, so much so that I would have sworn I couldn’t feel it. Then one night, something snapped. The last, almost undetectable current of our connection vanished. I haven’t been able to sense anything about you since.” He glanced away. “I believed you were dead. I can’t describe what that moment did to me, what the silencing of our bond is doing to me now.” When Tràth didn’t respond, Douglas added, “Even without the bond, I love you.”
Tràth closed his eyes. He wanted to believe him, but the wounds of Douglas’ previous rejection still throbbed in his chest. Breathing deeply, he resisted the welling tears.
The thick atmosphere was broken by the silent entrance of two servants bearing trays of food and drink. Tràth accepted a glass from one, grateful for respite from the overwhelming and conflicting emotions. “Thank you,” he said. The servants bowed and left without a word.
Douglas drank, watching Tràth closely. “I’m going to tell you a story I’ve never told anyone.”
Tràth nodded. He put a selection of fruit from a tray onto one of the small dishes, but he couldn’t have eaten a bite. He merely wanted to keep his hands busy, needing something to focus on besides Douglas’ voice.
“You know human children go to school at least until they’re sixteen,” he said. Without waiting for a response, he went on. “It happened in my last year. I’d always been awkward with girls, but somehow I managed to get this girl Melinda, Mel, to go out with me. If I remember right, she might have even asked me the first time. Her best friend was called Jess, and my mate Shug was keen on her. We started taking the girls out around the same time, so we doubled. I think the first real date was to the cinema. I can’t remember.”
Tràth put down his glass, curious at the naked emotion in Douglas’ expression.
“Shug was seventeen and had access to his mum’s car. We both lived in the same part of town, so he’d come pick me up, and then we’d go get the girls. They went to a different school, you see?”
Tràth nodded, even though he had no idea what the difference meant.
“This was before my druid magic was awakened, so alcohol didn’t make me sick back then. So after the film, we broke out the booze. Me and Shug got pretty hammered, and we were making out with the girls, Shug and Jess in the front seat and me and Mel in the back. Then Jess told us they had to get home by midnight, so that was that, you know? We took the girls home and went back to his place. He didn’t have a dad, and his mum worked all night, so he practically lived alone.”
Douglas wiped his hands on his trousers and paused his rapid storytelling uncertainly before forcing himself to go on. “Anyway, so we were hammered like I said, and he said to me something like wasn’t it a shame we didn’t have a chance to get off with them, you know? And I laughed and said yeah, but I hadn’t expected much on the first date. I can’t remember how he said the next bit. You’d think the moment would be crystal clear in my memory. He said we should
help each other out
.”
Douglas glanced up to see if Tràth understood. Tràth raised an eyebrow, which Douglas clearly took as a sign that he did. “So, we fumbled around with each other. It was just a laugh at first, like a dare.” He blushed as he remembered. “We were drunk. I’d never really thought about guys that way, but I was a kid. I barely even thought about girls. Well, that’s a lie. I thought about girls, but mostly about how much they terrified me.”
Tràth leaned over and refilled Douglas’ glass from the carafe. Douglas nodded his thanks and took a deep drink of the pale fruity liquid.
“Next morning, we woke up, and he acted totally normal, like we hadn’t….done anything the night before. So I did too. What happened was on my mind though. A lot. The next weekend, we went out with the girls again, to some pub, I think. Technically, we were too young, but Shug knew a place that never checked. Like before, we took the girls home by midnight then went to Shug’s. That night, same deal. We…fooled around. We went on like this for more than a month. Every time was more intense. At first, we told ourselves,
we’re just messing about
. It wasn’t
gay
. After a while, we found it harder to pretend what we were doing was all a big joke. Then one weekend, he said why bother taking the girls out at all? We’d get some beer and stay in. I was fine with the idea. I mean, I liked Mel well enough. She was funny and sweet, but when I was out with her, all I could think about was going to Shug’s.”