The Last Druid (14 page)

Cal
la stared at him.  “But either I’m still alive or this is one strange afterlife.”

“It realized you wer
e dying, it panicked and fled; I managed to drive it out of you and it died from being exposed in the open for more than a few minutes.  It was a close call for you.”

He watched as she rubbed her left hand along her neck; the memory of his trying to strangle her was still fresh. 
“It was too dangerous a method,” she said.  “You should have left me; I still would’ve been dead in the end.”

“Perhaps.”
  He reached out, using his fingers to comb down her windblown hair.  “But if I had not done it, we would not be standing here debating the issue.”

Calla hesitated.  “I guess.”

“We should go,” he said, looking up to scan the horizon behind her.  “We may have lost the pursuit for now, but if we linger the chances increase of their picking up our trail again.”

She promptly took three steps backwards.

Confused, he reached towards her.  “Come, we do not have much time.”

Calla only backed up even further from him.

He stared.  “What is the matter?”

“Why should I trust you?”

Her words rang about in his head, stirring up old feelings and memories that he had locked away a long time ago.  The question made him feel sad and guilty for some reason.  Why did he always have to make things so difficult.  He let out a breath.  “I can understand why you would not want to,” he said, “especially given how our first meeting went: I did try to kill you, even though I was trying to rescue you in the same moment.”  He forced himself to look her in the eye.  “I cannot guarantee the road ahead is free from other dangers, but I promise you I mean you no further harm.  You may extract whatever oaths you wish from me, but I swear now I will protect you from what might come after us both.”  He held out his hand again.  “Will you come with me?”

“And just where
would we go?  There’s nothing but wasteland as far as the eye can see.”

“You put no faith in me?  I am not sure if I should be hurt or amused by that.  Unless you have a better suggestion of
what to do?”

“
Not really,” Calla muttered.

“I thought not.”  He
took her by the arm and gently pulled her after him as he started walking.  “Come—we should not stay here.”

She slowly followed after him.  “Who are you?” she asked quietly.

“Hiran.  Come quickly, please; Mai would want us to leave this place as soon as possible.”

This last remark caught Ca
lla’s attention.  “How do you know—”

“She was a friend of mine,” he said sharply, cutting her off. 
“From a long time ago.”

He saw a spark of curiosity light up her eye, but otherwise she said nothing as she
continued to follow him.

“That remi
nds me…”  He stopped and rummaged about in his bag for something for a few moments; he quickly found it: a clear crystal with some smaller kind of gem locked in its depths hanging from a simple gold chain.  He placed it in Calla’s hand.  “I believe you dropped this.”

Cal
la stared at the object sitting in her palm.  She looked at him questioningly.

“I am perhaps not the one who can best explain this,” he said simply.  He resumed walking, motioning for her to follow.

She glanced once more at the shining jewel before putting it in her pocket and following him.

XVII

Mika

The sun sank below the western horizon, casting long shadows over Kida’s streets
.  With night falling the city became a ghost town.  The usual activity and life that ran in its streets by day had vanished much earlier, and an eerie silence clung to the air about the city like a heavy shroud.  The only people wandering the roads were Guardsmen on patrol, keeping watch for anything out of the ordinary ever since Calla vanished.  No one else dared venture out at night these days, staying close to home and securing their houses against anything that could get in.  Fear held everyone in an iron grip.

Drum beats
called out in alarm and horns blasted through the night, shattering the still air.  The patrols were racing down the streets towards the source of the commotion, and people slowly emerged from the safety of their homes out of curiosity.  Word flew fast—the prison had been destroyed.  The patrol confirmed the rumor upon arrival.

A massive hole had been blasted through one wall, and the prisoner was gone.

A shout went through the crowd.  Civilians were ordered back to their homes while more guards poured into the streets to join the regular night watch.  No one was taking any more chances.  The danger had just grown.

Mika chuckled at the scene
unfolding below her; they would never find her, even in her current position on a hill so close to the city.  The people ran around like a colony of frightened ants.  Why couldn’t they understand?  Power could have been theirs if they bothered to just stop and look.  Instead they chose to panic.  What would they do when it came looking for them?  That change was coming—it was only a matter of time before they would have to decide which side they were on.

She knew her place, of course:
the winning side.

She thought about the two girls she
was leaving behind.  Why had they failed to inherit her gifts?  Why had they been given so much of their father’s blood instead of her own?  They, too, were allowing their lives to be controlled by fear instead of answering the call of power.  They were her flesh and blood, yet they had been denied the right to the knowledge she had been born to.

They had been found unworthy of following Him, and were
now unworthy of her love and further attention.

Mika stiffened—thunder sounded from somewhere in the distance, but that was not what troubled her.  Something else was coming
with it, something bigger, darker, more menacing—an incredible presence coming straight for her.  She didn’t need to ask questions about what it could possibly be.

He was coming.

She had failed Him, she knew that.  Her plans had been so carefully laid out, devised to weaken that girl, to isolate her enough that eventually no one would miss her if anything were to happen.  The little witch had been too clever, had charmed others to her cause, to defend her safety; in the end she managed to escape.  His coming could only mean one thing: those chosen to take over after her failure, had now failed themselves.  She smirked—there was a chance for her yet.

The shadows around Mika
darkened, a wall of black forming around her that blotted out even the faint starlight.  He was all around her; she could feel his rage.  But she wasn’t worried.  She could recover from her mistakes—she had a new plan.

“Do not fear, my Lord,” she said to the dark.

—You have already failed me once.—

“A mistake that
will not be repeated.  By the blood flowing in my veins, I will destroy the witch, and your reign can begin without fear of opposition.”

—
The fool who replaced you said the same thing.  He now sits cowering in fear while the girl grows into a bigger threat.—

“His failure will not be my second one.  By my blood, I will not rest until she sits before my knife.  Let my soul be
torn apart and devoured by the dark if she thwarts me again.”  Without thinking she drew a knife from her belt and slashed it across her left palm, watching as her blood slowly dripped down to the ground.

—
You swear a blood oath, the most binding of all.  Do not forget, you will be forced to pay the price you state should you fail once more.—

“The girl will never rise.  There will be no more failures.”

—I should hope so.  I would hate to imagine what agony my most faithful servant would have to endure otherwise.—

His presence lifted away, leaving the night life to return once more.  Mika was shaking from the encounter, and had to force herself to stand straight again.  There wasn’t a moment to lose.  On jittery legs, she marched off into the cover of the trees.

She had work to do before her master could come to this world again.

XVIII

Calla

It was cold out on the dead plains, colder than winter.  Calla shivered under the blanket as an icy breeze woke her up.  She pulled the thin fabric tighter around her in a vain attempt to retain what little warmth she still had.  She shut her eyes, wishing she could fall back to that land of dreams that were peaceful again; she stood a chance of being warm there.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, which gently started to shake her.  She shrugged it off, pulling the blankets up over her face.  “Five more minutes, father,” she mumbled.

“You realize I am nowhere near being related to you, do you not?” asked a familiar voice—that didn’t belong to her father.

Ca
lla jumped upright, clonking her head into something equally hard.  She moved so suddenly Hiran didn’t have time to move out of the way.  They sat staring at each other, massaging the spots where their heads had collided.  Calla had forgotten that she wasn’t anywhere near home.

“Sorry,” she said,
more than a little embarrassed.

“Do not worry about it,” he said, lowering his hand.  “No harm done.”

Calla was going to comment on the massive bruise forming above his left eye from where their heads collided, but decided it was best to not risk getting him upset.  The impact had a left a large lump on her own head which slowly throbbed.

Hiran
stared at her with raised eyebrows, seemingly amused.  “Are you awake now?” he asked.

Cal
la pulled the blanket up around her shoulders.  “As much as I’ll ever be, I guess,” she said.  She drew her legs into her chest and tucked her head down, trying to cover her nose.

“Honestly girl, it is not that
bad out here.”  Hiran grabbed her by one shoulder and struggled to pull her up to her feet.

“I beg to differ—it’s cold!  I could have sworn it was summer
before.”

“Technically it is.”  He managed to pry one
arm free and started tugging on it to get her up; she was still holding her knees tightly to her chest with her other arm and ended up being dragged along the ground instead.  He didn’t give up despite her resistance.  “As you may have guessed, the sun never really gets a chance to shine here,” he went on.  “The constant cloud cover keeps it a cold and hostile environment.  The only reason the chill affects you is because you simply are not used to it yet.  Now would you please…get…
up?!
”

He finally hauled Ca
lla up to her feet.  At that moment a sharp wind happened to blow across the dusty plain towards them, making goose bumps rise all over her skin.  She shivered.

“Do not worry so much.” 
Hiran gathered what few supplies they had from the ground.  “You will find that you will adjust as we go.”

Cal
la was skeptical, having never experienced this kind of environment before; home was suddenly sounding tropical in comparison.  “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Suit yourself.”  He tied the bag closed and slung it over his shoulder.  “It is probably easier if you experienced it for yourself instead of having me tell you about it.” 
He abruptly reached over and yanked the blanket from around her shoulders.  Caught off-guard, Calla threw her arms around herself, taken back by the chill that swept over her.  “Shall we?” he asked.

Her teeth chattering, Ca
lla reluctantly nodded her agreement and followed after him.

They walked in silence for several days in a landscape that
remained the same constant state of boring, flat, dead and gray.  The entire time the sky remained a solid gray wall overhead, only changing shades when one day ended and the next began.  The air temperature stayed cold; after a while Calla didn’t notice it as she walked, thinking her skin had grown too numb for her to notice any change.

As they walked, Ca
lla didn’t dare break the silence between them; she was too nervous and slightly afraid to do so.  She spent the first day and a half struggling to keep her curiosity about her companion contained.  He was equally quiet, only turning around every so often to make sure she hadn’t fallen behind.  By the fourth day she couldn’t take any more of it.

“So…um…how did you know Mai?” she asked nervously, still afraid he would insist
on keeping quiet.

Judging from the chuckle she heard,
Hiran was amused by either the question or the way she asked it.  “It takes you this long to even consider saying something more than ‘good morning’ or ‘goodnight’ to me?” he asked from over his shoulder, not even slowing his pace.