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“That went well.”
Damian looked up at Raul as his friend ambled towards the workstation and gazed at the open Lunar Books. The young Druid looked better, the color having returned to his face and his eyes sparkling with renewed curiosity. It was a look Damian knew all too well.
“As well as can be, I guess,” Damian replied, sighing as he turned a page in the book he had been trying to decipher for the past hour. The language was archaic, and complicated. It would take the combined effort of the entire Cast to make sense of what was inside.
“The wolf boy brought her food,” Raul said. “He’s with her now.”
Damian nodded, his eyes fixed on the words in front of him. For all he knew, it could have just been a bunch of scribbles. Every now and then he’d spot a symbol he understood, or thought he understood, but there was no way to get any context out of it all.
“The Vampire worries me,” Raul said, lowering his voice.
“The Vampire can hear you,” Marcus said from across the room. The Druids looked at him. Marcus shook his head and made for the staircase leading up. “I’m going for another scout run. When the child’s done throwing her tantrum, we can make plans on how to further proceed.”
Damian didn’t reply, and touched Raul’s arm when the other Druid opened his mouth to reply.
Marcus seemed to float up the stairs, then disappeared into the darkness outside.
“He might be more of a problem than help,” Raul said, turning back to Damian.
Damian looked up at the exit and sighed. “We need him.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s the oldest Vampire this country has ever seen,” Damian replied. “And he’s the leader of the Vampires. He still holds authority.”
“Nobody leads the army of compelled.”
“No,” Damian nodded. “But if he’s to be believed, then there are those who aren’t compelled. And if we want their help, we need him.”
“I find it difficult to trust Vampires.”
“You’ll have to learn to.” Damian smiled at his friend. “And quickly. We’re losing this war one battle at a time, and we have little choice as to who stands by our side.”
“And Atlanta?” Raul asked, grabbing one of the books and flipping through it, frowning, obviously unable to make any headway either.
“What about her?” Damian asked.
“When will we tell her?”
Damian sighed and closed the book in front of him. “I don’t know. I imagine our mother’s death is going to hurt her. We just found her and then to lose her...” He shook his head. “I didn’t handle it very well. I’m not sure how she’s going to be.”
Raul sighed and shook his head. “You know that’s not what I was asking about.”
Damian looked at his friend, knowing all too well what he was referring to. He’d noticed the silver hair back in Everlore, when the strange magic inside Atlanta had awoken and she’d killed Michael. He knew what it meant, but confronting it, dealing with it, was something else entirely. “Now’s not the time.”
Raul frowned. “That would be unwise.”
“I know,” Damian replied. “But we can’t deal with it right now. It’s too risky.”
“It will only get harder,” Raul countered. “She doesn’t understand the powers. What she is.”
“What she is, is my sister,” Damian said, a little firmer than he’d intended.
They looked at each other for a beat before Raul nodded and turned around, making his way back to the couch. Damian watched his friend lie back down and close his eyes, knowing that there would be more discussion on the topic later.
The truth was, he had no idea how to approach the situation. He was still trying to make sense of how they had all appeared here in the first place. One second he had been surrounded by hybrids, and the next he was coughing and gagging on the Skolars’ basement floor. It had taken him several minutes to gain some sort of composure, and when he could finally look up and make sense of his surroundings he had noticed he wasn’t alone.
The Vampire had been awake as well, and they would have instantly attacked each other if he had not seen Marcus in the field with the Wolf, coming to his aid against the hybrids.
Damian sighed and opened the book again, trying to keep his mind on anything else other than the dire situation they were in. Unlike the others he had gotten no rest, and neither had the Vampire. Then again, Marcus was immortal, and Damian doubted the Vampire needed much time to regain his strength.
The words in the book were still a complete mystery, and Damian could feel the frustration build up inside him. And the anger.
Raul had told him what he had seen, and it took Damian only a fraction of a second to guess that the head his friend had seen had belonged to his mother. The realization had shaken him to his core, the mix of finding a mother he thought dead only to lose her again. He had felt helpless, and in a way still did. Adelaide had killed her and taken over Everlore, and here he was, hiding in a cellar in a city that had also found its demise at the hands of the witch.
We’re in over our heads.
He shook the thought away. He couldn’t deal with doubt, not when there was still a glimmer of hope. He needed to decipher the books, find some way to use the magic inside, and bring the war to Adelaide. Their survival depended on his success with the task at hand.
And Atlanta?
Raul’s question lingered in Damian’s head, and he found himself gazing at the closed chamber door. He knew his sister would take the news of their mother’s death hard. Just knowing that her whereabouts had been kept from her all these years had sent her into a fit of rage. There was no telling how she would react.
But her reaction wasn’t her fault, a voice whispered in the back of his head, his logic trying to find some way to reach out to him.
He knew that. None of her reactions from here on out would be her fault. Not when she had no idea of what she had become, what had woken up inside her and now coursed through her veins.
It was a taboo subject between the Druids, one that usually resulted in looks of disapproval and quiet mumblings of prayer. The marriage of Witch and Druid had been banned specifically for that reason, and Damian wondered how the Cast had let his father and mother go through with it anyway. Had it been a secret? Or had some form of exception been made? James had been a Druid, and Brother to a witch. Maybe his uncle had had something to do with it.
Too many questions, and Damian quickly realized that the more he thought about it the more his head hurt with the sheer volume of unanswered puzzles. He looked back at the books on the table, trying to clear his mind in the process. But he failed miserably.
He sighed, and sat heavily on the chair by the workstation.
“You look troubled.”
Damian’s head snapped up, his eyes meeting Marcus’. The Vampire stood across the workstation and was flipping through one of the Lunar Books. Damian fought back the urge to pull the book away. “I didn’t hear you come in,” he said.
Marcus smiled. “Nobody ever does.” He shrugged. “Then again, your snores were loud enough for a stampede to go unnoticed.”
Damian frowned, and looked at the couch. Raul was gone.
“He’s scouting,” Marcus explained, as if reading Damian’s thoughts.
“How long was I out?”
“I wouldn’t know. I just got here.”
“Atlanta?”
Marcus looked over his shoulder at the closed door, stood still for a few seconds, then nodded. “Sleeping,” he said. “Ryan is with her. She’ll be fine.”
Damian only nodded.
“The last time I saw one of these was two or three lifetimes ago.” Marcus pointed at the Lunar Books.
“You’re a first,” Damian replied, more of a statement than a question.
Marcus shook his head. “No,” he said, “but one of the first that crossed the seas.”
“Then you can’t decipher these?”
Marcus frowned at him. “Do you even know what language this is?”
“I’m not sure,” Damian admitted. “There’s definitely some Elven in it.”
Marcus chuckled again. “Much, much older.”
“Older?”
Marcus nodded. Damian found it hard to believe that the Vampire could tell what language he was looking at. He knew that some of the first were as old as the Witches and Druids, but a lot of time had passed, enough for any man or creature to have forgotten the old world. He doubted that Marcus even associated himself with that time.
“Centuries older.” Marcus smiled. “This is Fairy, young Druid.”
Something clicked inside Damian’s head, and he stared at the book in front of him. Suddenly a lot of the symbols made sense. It didn’t mean he could read them, but at least it was a start. If he was back at the Cast headquarters, he might be able to find one or two books in the massive library there that could help him.
“Doubtful,” Marcus replied, looking at Damian seriously.
“You have to stop that.” Damian scowled at the Vampire.
Marcus smiled and nodded. “It doesn’t deter from the fact that there will be no written record of the Fairy language to help you.” Marcus closed the book. “Only a Witch can read it.”
“There has to be some other way,” Damian said. “Even in this underworld, the Witches have gone into hiding. No one’s been seen for generations.”
“Adelaide has been a busy girl,” Marcus nodded. “They’re scared of her. With a hybrid army at her back, she’s a force to be reckoned with.”
“There must be some translated work somewhere.” Damian shook his head in frustration. “The library at the Cast must have something hidden away.”
“I wouldn’t be too hopeful,” Marcus countered. “Fairy has always been a spoken language. To my knowledge, nothing other than these books has ever been written. And we both know how much of a mistake that was.”
Damian remembered his history lessons, how the Lunar Books had come into existence at the hands of a powerful Witch. There had been an uproar at first, but the value of the books could not be denied. It hadn’t taken long for both Witches and Druids to understand how important it was to keep the books intact. A wealth of knowledge and power, they could not bring themselves to destroy them.
There had been a massive struggle over which side was to keep the books safe. The Druids had wanted to seal them away, keep them from the world and hide them where they couldn’t fall into the wrong hands. The Witches had felt otherwise, feeling that the magic within could be taught, controlled, used to their benefit.
They had been naïve. Adelaide was the result of their ignorance.
Damian shuddered. He was fighting an ages-old conflict, one that had been boiling quietly until it had finally burst. If he didn’t find a way to stop this, if Adelaide got her hands on the rest of the books, it would mean the end for all.
The hybrids were nothing compared to a Witch in possession of a Lunar Book. In fact, he doubted the hybrids would even exist if not for the one she already had.
“Well, we can’t just sit here and wait to stumble across a Witch,” Damian said.
“We don’t need to wait, young Druid.” Marcus lifted his hand and pointed. “We have one in the other room.”
Damian quickly shook his head. “I don’t want Atlanta involved in any of this. She’s been through enough already.”
“That’s an argument her uncle always used,” Marcus said, “and look where that’s gotten us. Tell her the truth before it’s too late. Let her take control of her life. She’ll make the right choice.”
“I’m not going to put her in unnecessary danger,” Damian argued.
“Young Druid, she’s already in the middle of it all,” Marcus contended, his tone reflecting his rising temper. “Do you think I don’t understand what the silver hair means? Do you think I didn’t see the red and orange flames when she battled the hybrids? The burning of her eyes? Don’t be stupid, young Druid.”
“Stop calling me that,” Damian said between gritted teeth.
“Then stop acting like a child,” Marcus said. “How the Cast hasn’t already tried to kill her, to remove you as their leader, I don’t know. I can only assume you haven’t sent word of this to them yet, which is just as well. But word will eventually reach them, and they will know she’s your sister.” Marcus gazed at Damian, his eyes full of fury. “When that happens, Adelaide won’t be your only problem. They’ll never let a Coven Master live.”
“They’ll have to.” Damian’s hands squeezed into fists. “I’d never let them hurt her.”
Marcus laughed, a mocking sound that only made Damian angrier. “I would like to see you go up against the full Cast, against your own. But I won’t stand by your side when that happens. I would rather see the lot of you kill each other.”
Damian slammed a fist on the table, shaking it with the force of his blow. His eyes began to glow a bright green. “Enough,” he hissed.
Marcus only stared at him. Damian could see the Vampire’s mind at work, assessing the situation. Suddenly, Marcus smiled and nodded. “Very well,” the Vampire muttered. “Have it your way. But tell me this: What will happen when she learns the truth herself? Or when the magic inside her burns unchecked? What will you do then?”
Damian didn’t reply.
“Will you kill your own sister?” Marcus pressed.
Damian felt the rage burn inside him. His fists shook with fury. “We’ll stop Adelaide before that happens.”
“What happens to Adelaide doesn’t change what will eventually happen to Atlanta.” Marcus shook his head. The look he gave Damian seemed like a mix between disapproval and pity. “Either way, the world will not stand a chance when the magic in those books is unleashed.”
“Adelaide will need to find them all first.”
“It’s not Adelaide I’m worried about anymore,” Marcus said, turning and walking away.
“Atlanta can’t read these.”
Marcus stopped and turned around, smiling. “A Coven Master wrote those books, young Druid,” he said. “When Atlanta’s power is fully awakened, she won’t need to read them.” With that, he took a few more steps, and in a blur dashed up the stairs and disappeared.
Damian slumped down into his chair, his mind racing. Great. Now what?
