“Victor,” he said as another monk appeared next to him, again seemingly out of thin air. “Could you take care of this? My hands are full at the moment.”
“Of course, Brother Sebastian,” said Victor, as calm and unruffled as the first druid.
The bottom of Victor’s staff emitted sparks of red fire, and he used it to create a rune on the ground. “Remove the shield.”
The first druid, Sebastian, lowered his hand, and the shield fell. The Drakwraith screamed with delight and rushed toward Victor. Victor held up his hand and banged his staff into the middle of the rune. The Drakwraith screeched with rage and tried to get away as a force more powerful than I had ever felt before emerged from the rune and pulled it into the ground.
The rune disappeared.
The Drakwraith was gone.
Silence filled the air as we all caught our breath. If the druids hadn’t come when they did, we would have been dead like Captain Jarvik.
The druid called Victor stepped forward, pushing back his hood to reveal a craggy face and deep, coffee-colored eyes that had seen lifetimes come and go. His brown woolen robe was simple, as expected of a monk, and tied at the waist with a thin rope.
“Come,” he said to me, and started walking toward the middle of the valley.
“Just like that?” I raised my eyebrows and ran after him. “Aren’t you going to ask who we are and why we are here?”
The old druid turned his eyes on me. “We know who you are and why you have come, Dawnstar. We have been expecting you.” He looked at Ashara holding Kalen. “Get the young fae inside, and we will tend to him. He doesn’t have much time left.”
I looked around. “Inside? Where?” All I could see was a lush overgrown valley blanketed in mist.
Victor banged his staff lightly on the ground and muttered something under his breath. Through the mist, lights materialized before us as a massive stone structure appeared out of thin air, just like the druids had.
I gasped. Captain Jarvik had been right. The monastery had been here in this valley all this time, hidden by druid magic, which from what I had just seen was far older and more powerful than the magic of the mages or even the fae.
Victor and Sebastian walked forward, and the big wooden doors of the monastery opened. Tristan took Kalen from Ashara as we followed the druids into the gray stone fortress. The doors shut behind us with a definitive thud.
Victor turned to the door and wove his staff in the air. “The monastery is now secure and hidden by magical wards. You are safe here.”
Destiny Calls
The entrance hall was massive, with two enormous stone staircases that curved upward to the second floor. It was warm and dry inside the monks’ home, and wooden torches burned in sconces on the walls. Two more monks appeared silently from a door on the left, their forms hidden under the loose brown robes they all wore.
We followed the monks, and Tristan carried Kalen to a room at the far end of a gray stone corridor. Kalen’s skin had turned the color of ash as his blood and magic were slowly consumed by the darkness that moved within him. His arm hung limp at his side, black veins protruding as the surrounding flesh rotted.
The monks directed Tristan to lay Kalen on a large wooden table in the center of the room, while they bustled about mixing herbs and potions at the worktables on the side wall.
Brother Sebastian held up his staff and ran it through the air over Kalen’s body. The crystal flared when it reached his chest. He put down the staff and turned to us as he rolled up his sleeves. “There is still a chance. I must work fast.”
Penelope let out a cry of relief and leaned on me, tears streaming down her face. I put my arm around her as my own heart beat faster with hope. Kalen still had a chance. I couldn’t begin to imagine the pain Penelope was going through. No mother should have to see her child like this.
“Come,” said Victor. “Let Brother Sebastian do his work. We have dealt with this kind of darkness before.”
I tightened my grip around Penelope’s shoulders. “You need to rest, Penelope. You said yourself the druids will know what to do. Let them heal Kalen. There is nothing you can do for him right now.”
Tristan’s eyes softened. “Go. I will stand guard and let you know if there is any change.”
We followed Victor down long stone corridors and up the western staircase, all warmly lit with sconces on the walls. The druid monks might not have lived in lavish surroundings, but the rooms were clean and warm, with big stone fireplaces piled high with wood. I chose to stay in the same room as Penelope since I didn’t want to leave her alone. The beds were small but comfortable, covered with soft linens and warm furs. After a quick sponge with the hot water the druids had sent up from the kitchens, Penelope and I changed into the warm and dry woolen robes the monks had given us and sat down in the old faded armchairs before the roaring fire.
Victor came to our room to check on us, which was a comfort in itself. It had been such a long time since I was warm and safe and with people who knew what to do. Kalen’s illness, if you could call it that, had taken a bigger toll on me than I cared to admit. If I had not dragged him along in the first place, he would be safe at home. Instead, he had risked his life and nearly died. I hoped the druids knew what they were doing.
