Arcane Rising: The Darkland Druids - Book One by R Nicole (scary books to read .txt) 📕

It was bustling with activity. Druids sat around stone tables, laughing and talking amongst themselves. At the far end was the actual kitchen, where a spread of delicious smelling food had been laid out in an elaborate banquet.

I tentatively walked the length of the room, feeling the weight of dozens of eyes burning into my flesh. I stood before the food and my stomach rumbled. There were piles of freshly baked rolls, a pot of stew, salads, rice, cakes, and other assorted dishes. A pile of bowls, plates, and cutlery sat at one end, but I wasn’t sure I was allowed to take any.

A woman walked by, and when she saw my hesitation, she turned. Like many of the other Druids I’d seen, she was lithe and pretty, but instead of long flowing hair, hers was cropped in a cute pixie cut. She had some of the same blueish runes tattooed on her arms, too.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“I don’t know…” I looked at the food longingly.

“Ah, Rory left you out on your arse, did he?” she asked. “Typical. That man flits in and out like a dragonfly who thinks he owns the world.” I took her long-winded sentence to mean she thought Rory was arrogant.

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Oh, I’m Darby,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m—”

“Elspeth, I know. Help yourself,” she added. “You don’t need to do anything special. Everyone is taken care of here.”

“Darby, what are you doing?” Another woman appeared beside her and tugged on her arm, giving me a wary glance.

“Oh, I…” She gave me an apologetic smile and allowed her friend to pull her away.

Sighing, I took a tray and filled a bowl with thick, hearty stew. When I was done, I kept my head down and moved through the room, conscious that no matter what I did, I would still be the centre of attention.

I stood in the middle of the kitchen holding my tray, feeling like the nerd in the high school cafeteria. Looking around, all the tables were taken and every open seat abruptly became taken.

Sighing, for what felt like the millionth time, I took the bowl and spoon and dumped the tray, deciding to go back to the willow tree and wait for Rory or Ignis to find me.

As I was about to leave, I spotted a familiar face shovelling food into his mouth at an alarming pace. He looked different clothed and I snorted, remembering how Rory made fun of his ‘wee willy’.

I paused by the table. “Jaimie Fraser?”

“Ach, just Jaimie,” he replied, looking up at me. “Rory was just playing with you, lass.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fash.” He waved a hand at me. “You got a place to sit? Park your arse there, lass.”

I shrank slightly. “You don’t mind?”

“Ach, not at all.” He resumed eating with all the decorum of his German Shepard shape.

I slid onto the stone bench and set my bowl before me and poked at my stew.

“So, you met the Elders, eh?” Jaimie asked. “They’re our own little triskele. Shor is the most like fire. Rowen is the earth and Delilah is the air. Or at least, I think that’s how it goes.”

Movement beside me pulled my gaze and I saw Vanora circle the table. She stood behind Jaimie and placed her hands on his broad shoulders as if she was laying claim to him.

“Be careful, Jaimie,” she said, glaring at me. “We don’t know what that mouldy hair is capable of yet.”

My hand tightened around my spoon.

Jaimie shrugged her off. “Leave off, Vanora.”

“Just saying,” she purred before she flicked her hair over her shoulder and sauntered away.

I narrowed my eyes at her receding back and grimaced. It didn’t take long for the resident bully to make herself known.

Jaimie rolled his eyes. “Vanora’s got claws. Watch her, lass.”

“Oh, I’ve already had the pleasure.” I gave her one last glance. “What’s her deal? She said she and Rory…”

He shrugged. “Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“Druids are few and far between,” he replied. “There’s a small gene pool, if you know what I’m saying.”

“No, I—” Suddenly, I understood what he was getting at. Rory and Vanora were betrothed in order to ensure the Druids ongoing survival. “Oh. Never mind.”

It wasn’t just distrust over my apparent Fae heritage I faced. They wouldn’t want my polluted genes muddying up the waters, let alone give me a place in their precious homeland. This place was turning out to be less and less magical than it had seemed at first and more and more like a regular human snake pit.

I’d come to Scotland looking for answers and understanding…and meaning. A place to belong. Community. Acceptance.

It was already jarringly clear I wasn’t going to find much of that here.

“Don’t worry, lass,” Jaimie said. “He won’t abandon you because of Vanora. He’ll still be your neach-gleidhidh. The Elders have decreed it.”

“It’s not that,” I managed to get out.

Jaimie snorted and his eyes widened. “You’re into—”

“It’s not that, either,” I snapped.

“Stop antagonising her,” Rory declared, materialising out of thin air. He sat beside me and stole a slice carrot out of my bowl. “I found you a place to stay.”

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it was rude to stick your fingers into someone else’s food?” I grumbled.

He held up his hands in defence. “Hey, watch it. The Elders give you a grilling or something?”

“I told her about the gene pool,” Jaimie declared.

“Ach, dùin do ghob,” Rory fired back.

“You want this?” I asked, sliding the bowl towards Jaimie. “I’m not very hungry.”

“You’ve hardly had anything to eat since our adventure on Calton Hill,” Rory declared.

“Is that what you call almost dying? An adventure?”

“You two are going to get along just fine.” Jaimie chuckled and slid the bowl towards him with a sly wink.

“Like I was saying,” Rory stated, “I found you a place to stay.”

“Would you like to show it to me?” I asked.

“Watch yourself, lad,” Jaimie said, digging into what was left of my lunch. “She looks sweet, but under that façade is a fierce