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Bobby couldn’t deny that. The image of the otherworldly creature was imprinted on his mind.
“But…you guys are rich right? Maybe those wands are like brand new technology that can do funky stuff?”
“They’re just carved out of simple rock actually,” said Mo, holding out his wand for Bobby to examine. “Set with a crystal at the base, of course.”
Bobby didn’t want to get close to touching the strange instrument, but he leaned in to look. The wand was long but skinny, the stone dark and warped, with a blue crystal at its base.
“My stone is a sapphire, but Simone’s is a diamond,” said Mo. “Each wand is set with one of eight precious jewels. Well, technically there’s a ninth stone, but no one gets that one, and it would be terrible if they did.”
“Sssh, Mo. Don’t scare him. We seven…six now,” Simone faltered. “We
‘Perfects’ are the druids that protect this place.”
“Aren’t druids priests from like, medieval times?” he asked. “You’re kind of in the wrong time zone, guys.”
“We’re the clan of Dawnvel,” said Mo. “But every clan who protects a gateway to Otherworld must have seven. The threads of fate have led you to us.
Now that…that Zander has passed.”
Bobby wasn’t even going to pretend he’d understood the words Mo said. He opened his mouth to disagree, but Simone was already speaking.
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“When one of us falls, a new druid comes into his powers to join the clan.
You are Zander’s replacement, Bobby. The clan must be whole. We grow stronger together.”
“Do you realise how much of a cult you guys sound like right now?”
“You’re a Lost One…we think,” said Mo. “You see, all the ancient druid families are well-known and recorded. Magic is passed down through the generations and your family must have druid blood.”
“So my parents were druids?”
“No,” Simone said. “Magic always skips a generation. One of your grandparents would’ve been one.”
“But your birth wasn’t recorded,” said Mo. “Or else the guild would’ve known about you before now. Your grandparents must’ve hidden from us, a rare feat.”
“We’ll have to inform the guild about him,” Simone said. “See if we can find his relatives.”
Bobby was speechless. He’d given up on ever finding family. After assuming his parents were dead, he’d thought any other relatives he’d had would’ve tracked him down. He used to dream about it growing up. How a fancy car would one day pull up at the children’s home and come to take him away. A wealthy uncle, or a kind aunt perhaps.
Bobby was about to ask more when the door swung open and a third person sauntered into the room. It was Lana, the small, blonde Perfect he’d only seen
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from afar. She wore a matching pink skirt, blazer and too much makeup, whilst her hair looked like it took hours of care, but she would’ve looked beautiful without either. She looked to be half Asian, with skin like cream and eyes of lightest green.
Unlike Simone however, Lana didn’t look remotely intimidating, more like a grotesquely rich creature from Hollywood who starred on her own reality show.
Lana’s eyes narrowed when she saw him, her cherry pink lips curdling into a sneer. “What is this urchin doing in my house?” She bit out the words in an extravagantly patronising voice.
“I don’t want to be, believe me. And who’re you calling urchin?”
“Well, just look at you,” Lana replied, as if grossed out he’d even addressed her.
“At least I don’t look like a flamingo threw up on me.” He glared back at her.
Simone burst into laughter. “I think I’m gonna like you Bobby.”
Lana’s delicately featured face hardened, but she ignored Bobby’s insult.
“Normals aren’t allowed in the house, Simone. I know you like breaking the rules, but this will get you disciplined by the guild.”
“Don’t mind Lana,” Mo turned to him. “She lives to look down on others.
The Princess of Petty.”
“At least I’m not malignantly mediocre, darling,” Lana shot back.
“She likes to exaggerate her words too,” said Mo. “She’s like all those awful theatre brats rolled into one.”
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Despite the sniping, Bobby got the impression the two of them actually liked one another. Lana and Simone however, did not. They got that across without exchanging a single word.
“Well, why isn’t he leaving?” Lana insisted. “Did you have to treat him for a werewolf bite? Did he get a demonic disease or been inflicted by a spell gone wrong?” She retrieved a bottle of anti-bacterial gel from her handbag and began rubbing it liberally in her hands. “He better not have a disease, or I’m never sitting on that sofa again. Whatever’s wrong with him, fix it, wipe his memory and chuck him out. Non-druids aren’t allowed.”
“Good thing Bobby’s a druid then,” said Mo.
“I…what?” Lana faltered, looking back at Bobby in disbelief. “This thing can’t be one of us.”
“That I agree with.” Bobby got to his feet. “I’m not sure why your friends are convinced I’m the same as you guys, but I don’t fancy joining a cult. Sorry.”
“Wait, he doesn’t even know he’s a druid?” Lana turned to her other cult members, ignoring him entirely.
Simone sighed. “Yes, he’s having a hard time coming to terms with it, but it all adds up. The demon did say one of our number would perish, only to be replaced by a new member.”
Lana’s aloof expression flashed with anguish for a second, before slipping back into its icy mask. “What? Zander, who looked like a golden god, who was the best at everything, even compared to us, who led us countless times, is
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going to be replaced by this random loser? And you two are happy to go along with it. It’s like Zander never existed, like you’re not even bothered he’s gone.”
“Don’t say that,” Simone snapped. “We cared about Zan just as much as you.
But we all know the risks. Zander is far from the first druid to die before his time, and he won’t be the last.”
“Wow, you guys are really convincing me to want to join you,” he muttered.
But the cult members continued to ignore him.
“We could never forget about Zan,” Mo said. “I told you I had the biggest crush on him for like a year after I got here. I got over it before he got together with Niamh though,” he added quickly.
Lana nodded slowly. “Fine.”
Bobby’s fascination of these people had dulled his fear over the past few minutes, but he was still very aware that he needed to escape.
“Look guys, I only met Zander once, but he was kind to me, and I’m sorry he’s gone, but I’m not the one to replace him in your, uh, gang. So, if you don’t mind, I’d better be going.”
“Don’t worry,” Lana said acidly. “I suspect Simone’s got it wrong. We do need to add another druid to our group, but I highly doubt it will be some cretin who wouldn’t know a spell from a sock.”
“You’re really good at meeting people, you know that,” he replied, beginning to wonder who was worse out of Lana and Warren. “And I thought the girl with the weird ears was the weirdest person I’d see tonight.”
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“What did you say?” Simone asked sharply. “You saw someone on campus with pointed ears? Did they have unnatural hair too?”
“Uh.” Bobby had no idea why she’d ask such a random question. “Well she was like a punk chick with pink hair and weird contacts lenses-”
“Damn it,” Simone interrupted him. “A Cairnath was here.”
“Cairnath?” He’d wanted to believe it was some sort of self-mutilation the punk had done, but he knew deep down it was something more.
“More proof you’re one of us,” said Mo. “Humans can’t see past the glamours Cairnath wear to make their appearance seem normal.”
“They might’ve learned I killed one of their gargoyles,” said Simone. “They could retaliate at any time.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Lana said. “Cairnath wouldn’t be so foolish to attack our home.”
“This new coven might,” said Mo. “We don’t know what they’re like.”
“Well, this is all terribly…bizarre,” Bobby said brightly. “But I think I’ll leave you all to it. It was nice chatting to you.” He walked toward the door but Mo moved to stand in his way.
“Hold on, Bobby. I promise you can go in a moment, we just need to test you.”
“You haven’t even tested him yet,” Lana exclaimed. “Gods, I hope he fails.”
“Test me?” His nerves were already frayed, he thought they might snap any second.
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“To see if you have magic,” said Simone, “to confirm our suspicions. If you fail, I can wipe your memory of this entire night and you’ll never have to speak to any of us again.”
“That sounds good, other than the you messing with my mind thing. And if I don’t fail?”
“Then you will partake in the joining ceremony, choose your wand, and become the seventh and final member of our clan.”
A wand? That seems pretty cool. No, Bobby, stop it.
“But first, shouldn’t we get all of us together?” Mo asked. “Or at least inform them we might have a new member?”
“We should,” said Simone, “but I don’t think Niamh would cope well with it right now. She’s barely even left her room to eat. God knows where Dreg is, and Warren is still out hunting Cairnath.”
“You said that word again, what do you mean, Cairnath?” Bobby asked.
“You’ve heard of vampires,” Simone said. “And you’ve heard of faeries.
Well, put them together. That’s what Cairnath are. They kind of look like the evil faeries from the stories, but they feed on human blood, as do the gargoyles who serve them.”
“There’s gargoyles now?” Bobby asked, aware how high-pitched his voice went. “I thought you said that because the guy you killed was ugly or sumin. I didn’t take it literally.”
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“Yep,” said Mo. “Gargoyles are the Cairnath servants. You can tell you’re facing a Cairnath by their unnatural hair, eyes and ears, but the gargs look entirely human, save for their skin has a grey tinge and their eyes are bloodshot.
They’re undead though, with none of their humanity left. They’re supernaturally strong, just not as strong as Cairnath. Oh, and the gargs don’t have wings like in the myths, so that’s a plus. But they do turn to stone during the day, so we only have to worry about them attacking at night.”
“Ah, that’s much better.” Bobby couldn’t help the sarcasm leaking out.
“Oh and there’s more gargoyles and Cairnath in Dawnvel than almost everywhere in Britain,” Simone added.
“What, why?”
“Because of the gateway to Otherworld in Dawnvel castle’s catacombs,” said Lana, as if it was obvious.
Bobby just blinked.
“That’s why there can’t be only six of us druids for long,” said Mo. “There must be a clan of seven to protect a gateway.”
That didn’t really answer Bobby’s question, but he was hesitant to ask more.
Everything they said just gave him a dozen other things to ask.
“Okay, okay,” he said slowly, looking at all three of them. “Let’s say,
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