“Don’t you understand? Don’t you realize what will happen if you remain? It would be better for everyone if you disappeared! Dinnae tell me you wish to stay!”
“I do not wish it,” the druid choked. The Vaich’s fingers tightened on the base of his neck. “But… I cannot flee. Something calls to me and it will not let me go. I must understand why… why it needs me—”
“No one needs you! You’re a disturbance. A problem I wasnever meant to have.”
The blade dug in. The hate in the Vaich’s molten eyes mixed with terror. Slowly, carefully, the druid reached up, wrapping his fingers around his wrist. The king froze and with a gasp, he tore himself away, the dagger landing amongst the grass.
The druid stumbled, swallowing down air, leaving them both panting.
“I am sorry,” he whispered. “I know now, there is no running from this. Even if I should—it shan’t let me. I believe not in prophecy, but truth… and I cannot deny my eyes. I must see this through, so tell me now… If you presume to be my villain, then claim yourself as such, and I shall do the same.”
The Vaich’s lip curled once more in rage, but just as quickly as it came, his shoulders slumped. He drove his fingers into his raven strands. “If you are meant to live, then I cannae kill you. Vaich or otherwise.”
“Then, I will be your bride, and stay peaceably at your side, if only to uncover whatever truth I’m meant to find.”
The Vaich shook his head. “No,” he muttered. “Stay if you wish, but there can be no peace between us.”
Neither moved. They simply stood there, sharing an unknowing. A fog in which they waded together.
Silently, the druid bent low, retrieving the fallen dagger. The Vaich tensed, but the druid’s steps were steady. He held the blade forwards, balanced on his palm, not in declaration, but offering. “We needn’t be at odds, you and I,” he whispered against the dark.
The Vaich flinched as if struck, but slowly, he settled. “Keep it,” he said, turning his back to him. “You may need it yet.”
With that, he made his way back towards camp, leaving the druid alone in the grove. And there, beneath the moonlight, he remained.
Chapter twenty-four
The Archive
When the convoy arrived at Rhyd-hal, the grounds about the castle were bustling with merchants delivering provisions for the upcoming ceremonies. They scurried away as the Vaich steered his horse aside. Halla waited in the yard, and as the Vaich pulled him down from the mount, she rushed forwards, swallowing the druid in a hug.
“I thought ye had gone… that ye weren’t to return!”
So had he.
Her antler totem pricked his chest.
“I’ve come back,” he muttered.
“See to it theQueen-to-beis brought to the healer,” the Vaich said irritably. “He’s had a trying ordeal.”
He had beenirritablesince their affair in the woods—a fact the druid’s calm only seemed to exacerbate.
“Yes, sire,” Halla bowed. Her firm hands herded the druid off till he was back within the cramped, earthen labyrinth of dimly lit corridors, squinting through the torchlight.
They came to an iron door and Halla tentatively knocked. From inside, a burly man in a dark cowl poked out his head. He looked frustrated to have been disturbed, and barked an extraordinary, “What!”
The chambermaid blushed, pushing the druid forwards. “Tis the Queen-to-be, maister. The Vaich’s sent him for checkin’.”
The man’s face wrinkled further as he seemed to war with his fury and the command he had been given. “Very well,” he grumbled, pulling the druid within.
Inside, the chamber was warm with an amber glow. Tonics and jars housing misshapen things gathered on the wooden desk. Tinctures and potions lined rickety shelves, and little iron cages held all manner of ratsand toads. The druid grimaced at the sight and was taken to a slab at the center.
“Lie down,” ordered the man. Reluctantly, he did. Above, cobwebs glimmered across the wooden rafters.
The stone walls were plastered in diagrams; sketchings of… the druid wasn’t sure.
“You may call meLíaig. I am a man ofmedicine.”
