Page 27 of Wicked Savior
Brennus agreed, and the goddess put him asleep. When he woke, his blood was on fire. Fevers and chills wracked his body, along with the pain of a thousand cuts. Death stalked him. He begged for mercy, but she gave him none. His breathing became labored, and a heaviness entered his chest. Still, she refused to heal him or ease his pain.
For six days and nights, he fought death. On the seventh night, she sliced open his arm and watched his blood spill onto the floor. The light faded, and everything went dark. He thought his life had ended.
When he woke a second time, there was no pain. Instead, his blood buzzed with life and power. With magic. And the strength he had before this day was nothing compared to the strength he could call upon now.
When he thirsted, a cup of water appeared. When he was cold, fire would flare high in the fireplace. And this was only the beginning. She explained his magic came from the mind. With thought and will came power and results. But power of the mind is a two-edged sword. Anger can just as easily coalesce into thought and will and bring down a friend or enemy. Self-discipline and wisdom are necessary to control the mind and wield the magic.
Not only did she give Brennus magic, but she also presented him with a second gift… a golden torque with a spell written on it. She explained her words would not only allow him to amplify his own powers, but to perform impressive feats of magic beyond the single power of one Druid.
Confused, he asked, “But am I not the first and only Druid?”
She smiled. “Today, you are one. Tomorrow, I will bestow this gift on nine others across the Earth. From ten shall come two hundred. From those children, almost a thousand more. And so forth. You will be their leader.”
Stunned at the thought of leading all Druids, he bowed humbly before her. “Thank you. We shall honor your gift and honor you. Our temples will be named after you and statues erected in your image. Every year, on this day, we will celebrate you.”
“You must not mention me, nor can you build anything in my honor. The magic is a secret gift, one I’m only sharing with ten humans. You’ll pass it along to your children, and your children’s children. That is how you will honor me, understand?”
The book goes on to give an account of the nine families who were given the same gift—Amenemhet, Akakios, Domitia, Minako, Chen, Floriana, Kawisenhawe, Zoya, and Retha. Men across the globe, who became Druids and pledged their allegiance to Brennus. Each of those men sired many children, almost the two hundred she predicted, and the Druid powers passed to all of them. He ends the book with one last paragraph.
Brennus is long gone, but the Druid legacy lives on with each new child born. Our powers are a blessing, our blood a secret, and every day, we whisper our thanks to the divine goddess who gave them to us. Let this account live as the official history of the Druids.
The book falls to my lap. Words run in circles in my mind while I try to decipher what she did to change them. Over and over, I come to the same conclusion, yet I push away the answer, determined to find another, one that doesn’t make me sick to my stomach.
I spear my fingers through my hair, separate the strands into chunks, and start braiding it while I think about the answer.
Shit.
She didn’t help humans find their powers; she gave them hers. A long exhale leaves my lungs. Occam’s Razor. The simplest explanation that will account for a circumstance or event is most likely the correct explanation.
It’s obvious her first attempt was disastrous. Brennus almost died from the transfusion. When she realized he was going to die, she bled him out, then tried a second time with a new variation. My guess is she diluted the blood using some natural herb or a common spice like turmeric, ginger, or ginseng.
The reason Druids have power is because of their Viridian blood. The reason Druids have dwindled in numbers is due to a number of factors… insular marriages, blood diluted with each new generation born, and possibly death by Gabriel and his band of merry angels. To replenish their numbers, they need a new infusion of Viridian blood.
I sigh.
“Is everything okay?” a voice filled with gravel asks beside me.
I blink and take a moment to erase the shock from my expression. Turning to meet his intense blue eyes, I nod. “This journal gives details on the ten individuals who received the gift of magic. I’m going to look them up and see if there are any progeny alive today.”
“Did it say anything as to why Gabriel might want to destroy them?”
My hand clenches the book for a second, but I slowly extend it to him. “No, not really. It’s an account of how the ten dynasties were started and their magic. Their power lies in the mind. Their foundation is thought and will. With those two things, they can create and destroy equally.”
His fingers grip mine and the book for a long minute. “Interesting magic. I’ll keep reading through the other books to see if I can find the answer.” He releases me.
I’m not lying. The book doesn’t say why the angels, or why Gabriel, don’t want the Druids resurrected. I only know because I know her. And her blood. My mother. The one with the power to kill angels. The same blood she passed to the Druids.
If she weren’t eternal, I’d think she was dead, killed by the angels for this great blasphemy. But she is.
So where is she?
ChapterFifteen
LUCIFER
Truth rings in her voice, but the tightness of her eyes tells me she’s hiding something. Or rather… hiding something new and serious. She’s been a closed book since I arrived, but this is different. My eyes slide to the slim book clenched tightly in her hand. The answer lies in its pages.
With a sigh, she slides it onto my lap. “You should read it.”
