Druid cursed, p.9
Druid Cursed, page 9
A man draped in a black cloak appeared in the haze, and even though shadows hid his face, she recognized Kellen. His fingers glinted with dark-metal rings. An animal skull decorated with black feathers topped the staff in his hand. His other hand fisted at his side. The cloak billowed, revealing a glimpse of bare skin covered in silver whorls. She recognized the knotwork symbols and raiment immediately, if only seen before in her studies.
Druid.
For a second, his feral gaze met hers, and the intensity of his awareness invaded her, shot into her blood like falling stars. Liquid heat pooled in her belly, electrifying every nerve. Never had a man looked so primal, powerful, and utterly perilous, a sliver of fantasy from a different world.
He looked to the old woman and bared his teeth in a snarl.
The crone spun, aiming her staff at Kellen. At the same moment, Kellen unfurled his fist. Light flashed from his hand, and energy exploded in a combustion that knocked Maggie backward, into the pool. She gasped as water, icy instead of the warmth from before, closed over her face.
Someone dragged her up, and she spluttered for air. Flailing, she frantically swiped wet hair from her eyes.
Caedmon held her elbows and studied her, unsmiling. Kellen stood behind him, arms crossed, looking dark and grim. He was fully dressed, no rings or staff with skull and feathers. Patrick, Cara, and the rest of the competitors all watched in wide-eyed silence.
“I’m sorry, little sparrow.” Caedmon released her and stepped back.
Her heart sank, and tears blurred her vision. Rejected. She was out of the competition, lost any chance of winning the cash she so badly needed to survive.
“I, too, am sorry, Maggie.” Kellen pulled up his hood. “The Fates have chosen you.”
“Wait, what?” She blinked at him, sure she misheard. “I’m in?”
“Aye.” Kellen swept away, his cloak billowing exactly like it had in the vision she’d had, inspired by wicked herbs cast into flames. “There is no escape for you now.”
CHAPTER
EIGHT
Despite Maggie’s intention to kick it back to the castle in the woods as soon as the coast was clear, two minutes after Jeeves had escorted her back from the sacred grove, she’d crashed on the bed, out colder than a corpse, then later spent the rest of the day reading. Books were a much-needed escape from reality…reality that was starting to feel more like fiction.
The next daybreak later—another night without Wendy, and after wolfing down the egg biscuit sandwich and cinnamon- and vanilla-laced coffee waiting outside her room—plans were back on track.
The strangeness of yesterday’s ritual still rattled in her head. None of the other guests had taken an involuntary swim, not even those who “the Fates” rejected. If anyone else had a vision of a crone and druid mini-battle, they’d kept their mouth shut. And so had she. Falling into the pool was mortifying enough without announcing that particular detail.
Or the fact that she was fairly certain she’d seen the woman once before, at her Aunt Maeve’s ritual that she’d interrupted as a child. But that was so long ago…she could be wrong.
She ignored a shudder as she headed for the path Kellen had taken her on the previous day. The castle and its hidden treasures waited. She re-read the “task list” from Wendy.
Three items to find before the new moon
A ring with a secret
A boy’s hidden key
A rock touched by magic
Defeat my enemy to set me free
Whatever plan Wendy had concocted, the distraction was more than welcome. And that’s probably where she’d been last night, arranging the clues on the scavenger hunt. Or with her hot-tub business tycoon. Maggie could hardly be upset, considering she was at the beck and call of the competition. How else was Wendy supposed to pass the time?
But she did miss having someone to talk to about…well, everything.
On the main lawn of the manor, guests were creating their own personalized scarecrows to burn in some bonfire later. Apparently, to symbolically free themselves of past demons and start anew. Patrick was closest to the path Maggie took, and she slipped behind a shrub before he could spot her and sneer—his favorite pastime.
Once the woods closed around her and cut off the view of the mansion and gardens, Maggie increased her pace. She half expected Kellen to appear from behind a tree with a menacing scowl and a sweep of his cape, as if he could travel through the gloom to block her way. Although the sun was high, its heat had diminished, and she rubbed her arms through her sweater to warm them.
A deep quiet thrummed in her ears, absent of birdsong or the tiny rustle of creatures passing through leaves and grass. The scent of damp soil and stone reminded her more of a graveyard than a forest. Shadows that had seemed only secretive earlier slithered among the moss and leaves like the seeking tendrils of some dark beast beneath the earth.
Maggie snorted. Ridiculous. She needed to get out of her head.
Among the trees ahead, a flash of pale pink disrupted the darkness, and between one step and the next, Cara came into view. They both stopped walking, breaths clouding in the air.
Cara seemed as surprised as Maggie to see another person in this part of the woods. Dressed in a powder-pink peacoat, khakis, and hiking boots without a single stain on them, she looked like a magazine model out for a nature shoot. Her black hair had been plaited and curled atop her head like a crown, makeup perfect, her lips painted a dusty shade of rose.
“You seem recovered from yesterday.” Cara slipped her hands from her pockets and moved closer. Her gaze drifted over Maggie’s face. “Mostly,” she amended. “Didn’t sleep well?”
“No.” Maggie forced a smile. Were the bags under her eyes that bad?
“Neither did I,” she confessed, her tone surprisingly vulnerable. “Yesterday was…”
“Yeah.” Maggie’s smile came more naturally now. “It certainly was.”
“Do you mind if I join you?” Cara wrapped her arms around herself and glanced at the thick trees surrounding them. “I ventured farther than I thought, and I’m not sure being out here alone is the best idea. The city doesn’t prepare a girl for wildlife in the woods. I saw a possum. It hissed at me.” She shuddered. “It was disgusting.”
Maggie didn’t want to delay going to the castle, but Cara was right. It wasn’t safe for either of them to be alone out here. The back of her neck prickled, as if someone—or something—watched from the shadows, hidden, crouched, and ready to spring. Strength in numbers. And it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have an ally for the rest of the week.
“Sure,” she said, “if you’re okay with an adventure. Fair warning, though. You might get your shoes dirty.”
Cara’s eyes brightened in either challenge or curiosity. “I’m always careful where I step.”
Alrighty then. Maggie shrugged and led the way.
As they walked down the path, their footsteps muffled by pine needles and moss, Cara glanced at her. “You’re not like the other people here.”
Maggie felt heat rising to her face. “You’re right. I’m neither rich nor famous, and I have zero influence over anything. I’m only here because I randomly won a wildcard entry, and I need the prize money to get my house out of foreclosure. Very glamorous, I know.”
“That was meant as a compliment.”
“Sure it was.” Maggie narrowed her eyes.
“It was.” Cara laughed softly. “Of all the guests, you alone seem…real.”
“I’ve tried before to be someone I’m not. Wasn’t really my super-skill, so I gave it up.”
“You’re fortunate that it’s an option. Not everyone is afforded that luxury.”
Cara’s expression was unreadable. A mask. Maggie couldn’t help softening at her words, though. Maybe being rich and beautiful wasn’t as much fun as it sounded. She’d spent enough time trying to be the wife Darren wanted. Better to be single and broke than married and fake.
“Why are you here this week, Cara?” She shoved her chilled hands into her jacket pockets. “I suspect it’s not for the money.”
“I need something that only the Ravenwoods can offer.”
The snap of a twig underfoot cracked from somewhere in the trees, and they both turned their heads toward the sound. Maggie listened, searched the forest, her senses straining as they continued walking. Probably just a deer…
“I hope you don’t take offense, but both brothers seem to have taken a particular interest in you, Kellen especially.” Cara’s gaze flicked her way before returning to the faint path they followed. “Why is that, do you suppose?”
“Ah, I get it now. You’re being nice to me because you think I have some sort of pull with Kellen. Or Caedmon. Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t. I have zero idea why Kellen seems to stalk me or why Caedmon calls me little sparrow. But if I win the money, it’ll be worth the aggravation they cause.”
Cara laughed again, louder this time and more genuine, the sound echoing like church bells in the trees. “I think I like you. Anyone else would have manipulated the conversation to see why I wanted to know, how they might put this information to their own use. Your honesty and sincerity are so refreshing.” Her eyes glittered dangerously. “If you repeat that, I’ll deny it.”
“I don’t talk to anyone else, besides my best friend Wendy, and she’s off doing things without me here, so I think you’re good.”
“Perfect.”
They walked for a moment in silence, drawing closer to Kellen’s castle, before Maggie spoke again. “So, what is it you need that only a Ravenwood can offer?”
“The boon,” Cara said.
“Oh, the one you told me requires a price I wouldn’t want to pay?”
Cara’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t explain the statement she’d made at the dinner their first night. “I’m looking for the last ingredient of a healing potion for my grandmother.”
Potion? She hid a shudder. That was a trigger word for her, though Cara probably just meant it was some sort of alternative medicine. Maggie knew from experience with her dad that doctors and hospitals could only do so much.
“And I dare not ask either Ravenwood for it,” Cara said. “In the past, others who have asked for a boon, instead of being gifted it, were immediately escorted from the premises and never invited back. I can’t risk that.”
“But you’re thinking maybe I can help? I can’t risk that, either. I need the money.” Even though she doubted very much that either twin would kick her out merely for asking. Though stranger things had happened since her arrival here, so anything was possible.
Something scurried in the shadows, rustling a shrub. A flock of birds burst into the air in a whirring of wings, disturbed from their roost.
“What was that?” Cara stopped, and her gaze followed the birds. “Do possums stalk humans?”
Maggie shrugged away the goose bumps on her arms. “Possums are nocturnal, so the one you saw before was super rare, and our grand destination is only a little farther.”
Kellen might have said the castle was dangerous, but she knew how to be careful around old structures, and there hadn’t been a single sign posted telling guests not to explore. If someone happened to chance upon them while inside the ol’ family stones—she wouldn’t be surprised if Jeeves was waiting for her there—she’d point out the lack of notice.
The offshoot path leading to the castle was hardly more than a deer trail sliding between ferns and rotting, fallen logs, and Maggie almost breezed right past it. If she hadn’t remembered from her earlier walk that there was a delicate mushroom ring a few steps before the path split, she would have completely missed it.
A castle hidden in the woods like an ancient secret waiting to be found. Not even the chill and unfriendly aura of the forest could prevent a shiver of excitement. A relic from the times of honor and chivalry, swords and shields, when life was simpler, if just as dangerous. Darren had always ridiculed her fascination with ages past, but that never stopped her from loving all things medieval, swords and castles, chivalry and adventure. Without the oppression, preferably. And with indoor plumbing. Her modest library at home was filled with books about life in that era. To walk through the halls of an honest-to-god castle, even briefly, was a dream come true.
Kellen had called it his ancestral home, probably knew all its history, when it was built, what trials it had endured, the names of the people who had lived there before him… Nope, she wasn’t going to think about him, not when a freaking castle peeked from among the trees and brambles, as if hoping she’d find it again. She could look up its history herself later. She did not need a man for this or anything, especially not one as tempting as Kellen Ravenwood.
“Here we are,” she breathed, grinning wide. She couldn’t keep the awe from her voice.
Weathered stone turrets, towers, and battlements made dark smudges through the wild thicket that had grown up around the structure. It had to be centuries old to have fir and oak trees tall enough to conceal it, crowding so close they surely hadn’t been planted there on purpose. Blackberry vines and ivy filled most of the gaps left by branches and boughs, and with the moss playing concealer, it was a wonder anyone would spot this building on their own.
Cara backpedaled, her face stricken with fear. When the back of her calves hit a huge fallen log on the other side of the path, she plopped down onto it and didn’t get up. “If you’re going in there, you’re on your own.”
“What? Why?”
“It looks like a diseased trap full of rotten boards, poison, and toxins. Not to mention wild animals. Probably rabid. And the mold alone would have me coughing for the rest of the year.”
Maggie turned and studied the castle. It looked amazing, mysterious, like secrets of the best kind waiting to be discovered. “All I see is a great adventure.”
Cara scoffed. “Your definition of adventure isn’t the same as mine.”
The fact that Cara, whose strength and confidence was a palpable force, was freaked out by something that only excited Maggie sparked a reckless sort of bravery. “Are you sure you’ll be okay out here? A raccoon or army of squirrels could attack you.”
She pointed at the castle, her finger trembling. “The only way I’d ever go in there is if there was an alien invasion out here. If you don’t come back out in a reasonable amount of time, I’ll get help. But going in there is not happening.”
“Suit yourself. If you hear me scream, run.”
“And if you hear me scream, I expect you to come out with a battle cry and fight the wildlife with me.”
“Will do,” she said with a laugh, then headed off.
Two platforms flanked the castle entryway, and oversize stone ravens stood guard on either side, blackened by weather and spotted with lichen, their eyes empty holes. Dead leaves gathered around the foundations, and ivy suffocated the passage, creating a natural trellis. As she stepped beneath it, she felt as if she moved from one time into another. Into the past.
Maggie paused a few feet from the steps leading to the entrance with a heavy iron door. The tip of the shadowed tower peered from the heights of the trees. It reminded her of Kellen. Secretive. Ominous. Intriguing. He’d probably spent a lot of time in that turret, brooding and thinking up ways to scare guests.
Enough wasted thought on Kellen. She had a ring to find.
Pushing aside the branches of an overgrown rowan tree, Maggie ducked under some low vines and maneuvered up the stone stairs. The steps were solid and sound, no cracks or crumbling edges. She tugged her snagged sweater free from a stray branch and stopped outside the great iron double doors.
Rust flaked the hinges, the only sign of their age. The symbol wrought dead center in the split between the doors reminded her of a realm mostly forgotten, of primeval societies. The same knot design scattered throughout Ravenwood Estate played background to a raven mid-flight, claws outstretched as if in attack. The bird’s black, glaring eyes looked hard as diamonds.
The hairs on her nape prickled, but she refused to let any featherbrained fowl intimidate her. It wasn’t even alive.
A push on the door did nothing. No visible lock mechanism marked the iron. No knob, latch, or handle.
A deep hum rose in the air, a lullaby beat of crickets and gentle, flowing water. The sun shone down on her, warm. Her eyes grew heavy… She should be taking a nap right now, curled up in that luscious window seat in her room or reading a book, with a basket of hot blueberry muffins and her favorite coffee. No exploration of stones that had seen better days could trump that.
Maggie stumbled over something and blinked as she regained her balance. The rock she’d tripped over had rolled on its side, and several beetles scuttled for the shadows.
“Good. You changed your mind.” Cara stood from the log where she’d been waiting and brushed moss from her khakis. “Let’s go.”
“I…” She pivoted. Without intending to or even realizing it until now, she’d descended the castle steps and made it back out to Cara. Goose bumps tingled along her arms. What the hell?
She swept a hand through her hair and straightened her sweater. “Sorry to disappoint you. Didn’t change my mind, just regrouping. I’ll be back in a bit.” She ignored Cara’s harrumph, squared her shoulders, and faced the castle once again.
Back at the door, Maggie ignored the prickling sensation along her nerves and touched the raven’s wing. An electrical zap shot through her arm, like a warning—ouch—but as she traced the intricate details of the bird’s feathers, the sensation faded. Close attention had been paid to every pinion of the emblem. Even the talons held a sharp edge. But it was within the raven’s parted beak, beneath its black tongue, that she found a tiny metal knob. It gave with a push of her thumb, and the door clicked open.
