“They’ve never met Nora’s progeny before. You know what they’re like, Ian, how they build alliances. Besides, that’s not all they want.”
“What do you mean? What else do they want?”
“Her blood.”
My mouth dropped. “My blood?” I repeated. “Why would they need that?”
“To make more lore.”
Ian viciously cursed as I cried out, incredulous, “What?”
Gage cut his gaze back to Ian. “Is it possible? Could they do it?”
Ian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Her blood will be diluted more than 500 times over, but yes, there’s a slim chance it may hold the lore.”
“What are you talking about?” My voice was sharp at not knowing—yet again—what the hell was going on.
Ian gave me an apologetic look. “The Lore Books are created under special circumstances—made from the blood of the deities themselves.”
A chill chased my spine. “Are you saying the ink on those books is their blood?”
“Yes, and the lore works because the gods had the power in their veins to give effect to it.”
“The Oaken Tree believes that as Cailleach’s direct descendant,” Gage interjected, “your blood may have the ability to create more lore.”
I pulled my hand from Ian’s and began to shake my head. “No. That can’t be possible. I don’t even have my magic in hand! How do they think my blood could possibly create more lore?”
“Regardless of whether your magic is awakened or not, I don’t think their assumption is totally without merit,” Ian said quietly. “There’s a chance it may work. Yes, your blood will have been severely diluted over the centuries, but it would still contain a trace of Cailleach’s mitochondrial DNA.”
The hairs on my arm rose at the possibility. I swallowed against my suddenly dry throat. “Why would they make more lore, though? Is there a need for it?”
“There will always be a need for more lore as long as someone is in power,” Gage responded. “Our enemies are those who seek to eradicate our people, who threaten our way of life. Mortal history is flooded with skirmishes and wars—it’s no different with our people, and other species we live alongside, like the witches or the fae—"
“Wait!” I interjected incredulously. “There are other species—witches, fae? Not just Druids?”
“Yes,” Gage curtly said, as if annoyed by the interruption. “But the Oaken Tree are not worried about them. Because the only entity who has ever hurt us, and still can, is one of our own.”
“Talorgan,” Ian confirmed quietly. “He knows our ways, knows when we are vulnerable.”
Gage nodded. “And Falin takes our people every year.” He looked directly at me as he added, “I know Ian told you about his fiancé, so you understand what threat he presents.
“Our people don’t want to keep looking out for our own every Samhain,” Gage continued. “They are looking for a better way to manage Falin’s call. Currently, the best way to survive is to hide. But there are only so many safe houses; the Institute is one of them, the Estate another, although after what happened with Nora, that is questionable. There are also many people who don’t have access to these safe houses, and they’re vulnerable. The Oaken Tree believes new lore could offer a better way, especially as you are the only Druid with a direct line to a Celtic deity.”
I understood the rationale, but I still wasn’t clear on what my blood would be used for. “What new lore do they intend to create?”
“There are only two ways that this prophecy will end—either Talorgan will be defeated, or he will succeed in eradicating Cailleach’s line from the world. And if he succeeds and we fail, the new lore could not only destroy the demon but contend with what may come after it. It’s effectively The Oaken Tree’s plan B.”
Ian inhaled swiftly. “I can understand that. Especially given that Brydie doesn’t have her magic yet.”
“Did you tell them that?” I directed the question to Gage, my chest tight at the implications.
Gage shook his head. “No. We might have an internal rebellion on our hands if that gets out. Many of our people are scared and vulnerable, and fear for their loved ones makes people do things they wouldn’t normally attempt.”
Ian chewed his lip as he mulled over The Oaken Tree’s request. “We’re talking about powerful lore here, greater than what we currently have. If it works, Brydie’s blood could skew the balance of nature. I’m not sure whether it’s even possible, whether nature would allow it.”
“I’ve had that thought too,” Gage confirmed.
“Then why agree to it?” I burst out.
His voice brooked no argument. “Because we need the book.”
What was left unsaid was the real reason—because I wasn’t making any progress. “Okay, say if this was possible, how much blood are we talking?”
“They want enough to make three Lore Books.”
Ian jerked his head back to stare at Gage. “Three?”
“One for protection, one for strength, and the last to establish a line of succession.”
“Since when have we been worried about succession?” Ian demanded. “We’ve always followed protocol. The most powerful Lore Master is appointed our leader every triennial. Fergus wouldn’t condone a new process outside of what we’ve followed since time began.”
Gage’s mouth thinned. “Things have changed at the Institute recently. Fergus passed away six months ago. Callum was unanimously chosen as the new Master.”
Ian stilled. “Callum? Do you jest?”
“It’s true. He took my call directly.”
“Fuck that! The deal’s off!” Ian sprang off the bed and faced Gage. “There’s no way we can trust Callum—you know what he’s like!”
I was again struggling to follow what was going on. “Who’s Callum?”
They ignored me.
Gage still stood by the door; his hands clenched back into fists. “We have no other choice,” he bit out, taking three strides into the room to stand before Ian. “In eight months, Falin will rise again. More of our people will fall. McKenzie may be one of them, Aiden—even you! Would you risk them? Any of us? They want to shield the Institute, prevent the children from being affected.” His face was tight as he added softly, “You told me before that they’re our future, Ian. Without them, we’re nothing. We protect our own.”
Ian’s eyes were blazing. “Brydie is one of our own as well, Gage! Giving her to Callum is the worst mistake! We may never get her back. Then where would we be with the prophecy? Talorgan will succeed, and we’ll all be lost regardless! Besides, you know Callum—he’ll find a way to twist this toward his own means and further his own cause.” He took a deep breath as if seeking calm and then added firmly, “It’s no secret that I don’t trust him. Brydie is the descendant; new lore won’t solve the problem, but she will.”
Gage’s eyes cut to mine. “Will she? So far, we haven’t seen the making of it.”
His words hit me like a physical blow, but they were the truth. “You’re right. Ian, we need a plan B.”
“No, he’s not!” Ian protested, hands waving in the air. “That’s unfair. We still have eight months. Other Druids have taken six months to tap into their magic. You need to give her that chance, Gage!”
“I don’t think so,” Gage bit out firmly. “There’s a huge difference between Brydie and the others. The others wanted to bring their magic forth. She doesn’t—she’s too scared! Her magic won’t manifest if it’s not welcome. Time isn’t on our side, either. The next eight months should be spent preparing for the confrontation with Talorgan, not trying to manifest her magic. The longer we delay, the more the odds are stacked against us. Christ—they already are! She’s a descendant who has no awareness of her legacy. Creating new lore is a viable contingency plan, one that may have a chance if her blood is proved compatible.”