Druid Apprentice (Colin McCool, #9)

by M.D. Massey

“Not the way you look,” a disembodied voice replied from somewhere to my right. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re about as scary as a young Rick Astley in drag.” “That’s pretty scary if you think about it, Larry. Now, shut up and stop interrupting me while I’m working.”

Poor Colin asked politely for the giant to surrender. Larry along for comic relief quips and put downs.

I suppose this is as good a time as any to test out that ball lightning spell. Ball lightning was a combination of electricity and extreme heat, and according to Finnegas, it was the first spell battle druids learned. Out of all the paltry number of offensive spells I had at my disposal, it was the most likely to bust through Belsterson’s wards and start a fire. Besides, it looked a hell of a lot like one of the special attacks from Streetfighter, and any chance to cast a badass spell like that was hard for me to pass up.

Streetfighter really nerd boy!

“Guess you’d better cuff me then, eh, drood?” He continued to approach me as I replied. “Actually, Maeve’s people are gonna pick you up. I simply need to give her the sig—” Before I could finish that sentence, Snorri Býleistr’s son closed the distance between us with two quick strides, clobbering me with a powerful punch that sent me tumbling ass over teakettle across the clearing.

Fell for the "come peacefully" ploy ...again

Kaboom! I was fully shielded from the more damaging effects of the spell, so every last volt and amp of that lightning strike struck Snorri’s hand. When the flash subsided, I quickly uncovered my face and opened my eyes to see the damage. As it happened, fear and desperation had caused me to release quite a bit more power than I’d intended, a fact revealed by the resulting damage. Blackened and charred flesh surrounded the spot on the giant’s hand where my spell had landed—or, at least, the half that was left. Snorri had reached for me with that hand because he was left-handed, as many supernatural creatures were. Fun fact, that was the reason why some cultures once thought it was evil to be a southpaw. But now, the giant’s thumb, index, and middle fingers were missing, as well as a good portion of his palm.

Ouch that's got to hurt!

If he’s herding me, I’d damned sure bet it’s toward somewhere I don’t want to go. And backup? Besides Larry, I had none to speak of. The factions only brought me in on jobs they didn’t care to mess with, and that meant I almost always worked alone. In short, I was royally, hopelessly fucked.

Once again he's on his own and going to get squished

Unfortunately, because I was already partially shifted into my Fomorian form, I didn’t even come close to dying. Nope. And that meant my ríastrad was not fully triggered, and good old Mr. Hyde-side definitely was not coming out to play.

Missed that little detail did you Colin

But since I was now in control of my Fomorian half, the shifting, rearranging, and healing of my injuries happened at what seemed like a snail’s pace. That resulted in a prolonged process that I could only liken to being put through a wood chipper and glued back together again with iodine and salt. Did I scream? You bet your granny’s fanny, I screamed.

Ouch!!!#$@ Nobody to kiss those booboos either.

That was all the space I needed, and I immediately sat up and latched onto the giant’s inner thigh with my teeth, grasping both arms around his leg to prevent him from dislodging me as I gnawed and chewed my way down to the bone. Giant skin was thick and tough, but in this bestial form, my teeth and jaw muscles were up to the task.

Chomp chomp

Finnegas told me once that sometimes to save the thing you love, you have to let it go. The only problem was that I hadn’t saved Jesse, and because of that I was having a hell of a hard time letting her go. The old man also said that time wouldn’t erase my regrets, but it would give me perspective on them.

Perspective and time

Finnegas flicked ash from his cigarette and pointed at me with it. “If you were smart, you’d have dried your clothes with magic.” I tsked and smiled wryly. “My control isn’t that good yet, and you know it. I’d rather not singe my pubes off, so I’ll deal with wet pants for now, thank you very much.” The old man snickered. “I keep telling you that you need to practice the small, inconsequential skills just as much as the big, flashy spells.”

LOL would hurt to singe them alright

But in the city, if I wasn’t in a public place with plenty of witnesses, there was always the chance they’d try to snatch me. For those reasons, I took precautions while doing my best to avoid Cerberus whenever possible. On those odd times when they did find me, shaking a federal law enforcement surveillance team was always good for practicing my counter-surveillance skills. Not to mention, it was deeply satisfying as well. Finnegas had told me numerous times to stop doing it, because apparently, shaking a government tail only made them that much more determined to watch your every move. Whatever. It was in my nature to give authority a huge “fuck you” whenever possible. Thus, I saw no harm in having a little fun at the feds’ expense.

Always one to torment authority

Hence, when the manhole cover I stepped on disappeared into a dark hole of nothing, it completely took me by surprise. And when I kept falling instead of landing in a drainage tunnel beneath the city sidewalk, that’s when I knew I was truly fucked.

Surprize!

“Mr. McCool, if you would meet me in the hall, I would very much appreciate it.” Mendoza. “Fine,” I said, aiming my words at the observation window. “But if you send anything else at me, we’re going to have words—angry, hurtful words.”

Mendoza just like he thought

Laughing silently, I stood. “Then I suppose I’d better refill your drink as well?” “See? That’s the kind of strategic thinking that attracted me to you in the first place.” She winked at me playfully. “Well, that and the fact that you have no qualms about chewing a motherfucker’s throat out.”

LOL she has crazy flirting skills

The blade blazed like a star gone nova as it sliced clean through the nuckelavee’s right foreleg and hind-leg. The beast screeched in pain and rage as horse and rider both went tumbling into the trees behind me, while I skidded and rolled to a standing position. As I turned to face them, I casually checked to see if my ear was still intact. It was bleeding like mad, but my Fomorian DNA would heal it shortly. Could’ve easily been my neck. He’s quick with that thing. I’ll need to do something about that.

Score one for quick reflexes

“You sure have a knack for stepping in it, I’ll give you that. What was it that girl called you? A first-rate shit magnet?” “If memory serves, I believe the modifier she used was ‘world-class.’”

Aww everybody slinging names at Colin

“Oh, I’m not looking for a friend—I’m here to see one of the monks.” The woman’s brow furrowed with incredulity, then she gave me a limp-wristed wave. “Well, bless your heart. I don’t know if anyone’s told you, but the monks have all taken a vow of silence. They don’t talk to no one, not even me, and I’ve been doing secretary work for ’em going on ten years now.” Rübezahl, you fucking dick.

Vow of silence LOL well played cowboy

As soon as my fingers hit the rough stucco surface, I knew I’d fucked up. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I sensed a tiny pop of magic that indicated I’d just tripped an alarm ward. A slight smell of ozone filled the air, signaling that another, larger spell was brewing as well. Fuck! Why didn’t I examine the wall for wards? Because Catholic monks aren’t supposed to be using magic, that’s why.

Coln not being as cautious as he should be. AGAIN! Finn will be disappointed in his apprentice

Stealth-shift it is, then. No sooner had I triggered my change than the ground beneath my feet began to glow with a faint golden light. Soon, distinct lines appeared in the soil and rocks underfoot, the light increasing in intensity as it coalesced into runes and other arcane symbols. Here and there, ancient Latin punctuated the runes and symbols—excerpts from an exorcism rite if my guess was correct. Somehow, using my shifter magic had triggered the monastery’s latent magic defenses. Ah, fuck!

Finn would be so disappointed the Colin shifted to take on the monks

“Magic landmines? Are you flipping kidding me? Guys, I’m on your side!” A baby-faced monk answered me from a nearby roof, not twitching a muscle as he held a longbow nocked with a clothyard shaft at full draw. “Liar! Thou art a beast, a therianthrope infected by the spirit of some foul demon from beyond the Veil.” Pfft. So much for your vow of silence.

Well he got them to speak

“Well yes, but—” Brother Carroll raised a hand with his fingers and thumb pinched together, like a kindergarten teacher telling a child to shut their trap. “Enough. Brother Edmund, you will say one-hundred Our Father’s and two-hundred Hail Mary’s, then you will clean the latrines as penance for your insubordination.”

Poor guy latrine duty for spouting off

So, I wish you success in your endeavors against the fae gods. But if you wish to survive the schemes and machinations of the Tuath Dé, do not underestimate their ability to confuse and deceive. The Dullahan was merely a test, a probe, and not their final gambit. Expect them to come at you obliquely, and possibly from multiple angles. Prepare for the worst eventuality, and you might have a slim chance at surviving an encounter with their kind.” “Um, thanks—I guess. Any advice on weaknesses I might exploit?” He arched an eyebrow. “Has the Seer taught you nothing? You cannot defeat them in an all-out battle—at least, not yet. Long ago, the Tuatha Dé Danann were bound by oath to never tell a lie, and by default, their offspring were held to that very same oath. If you wish to defeat them, you’ll likely only do so by outwitting them.”

Good advice and well wishes

Well, that was totally fucking unexpected. It felt like my heart had just been ripped from my chest. Not like I didn’t have experience with getting dumped. Thanks to Bells, I was familiar with the feeling. Still, that had not gone as planned.

Aww she dumped him first and now his ego is bruised

When it came to those twisted fucks, there was one person I could go to for reliable intelligence and advice—although I hated the thought of asking. Asking a favor meant being indebted to her, and since I was still on her shit list, she’d really make me pay for it. But considering what I’d recently learned—and what was potentially at stake—it was worth owing a favor to someone I despised. Ignoring the gnawing sensation in my gut, I put the car in gear and headed for Maeve’s house.

Answers will come at a high price

If Maeve had hired bugganes for security, it meant either her resources had been spread thin, or she was expecting serious trouble. Or both.

Maeve changing up her guards

I’d been at Maeve’s mercy from the moment I’d stepped through that back door, so I was more intrigued than perturbed. Bugganes, time distortion spells, disappearing doors… Time to find out why Maeve is taking such peculiar precautions in her own home.

Is she still angry or is this a power display?

Keep it together, McCool. She may not be using magic, but she is trying to throw you off balance. And she’s basically your grandmother.

Maeve toying with him

“You’ve already confirmed Donn’s involvement,” I said, changing tack. “Although for the life of me I can’t understand why he’d be interested in taking me out.” She snipped a leaf from the shrub, pausing to give me a disinterested sideways glance. “Surely you’re joking. Once you defeated their druid, you became of extreme interest to my people. Upstart heroes and demigods tend to attract their attention eventually, as did Fionn and Cú Chulainn both.” “And, like Oisín, both men met with tragic ends.” Maeve frowned. “Oisín made his bed. But you’re wrong about Fionn, druid. He isn’t dead, but instead sleeps awaiting the day when the Isle has need for a hero of his ilk once more.” “Okay, so two out of three of those men died due to the meddling of the Celtic gods.”

Interesting Fionn not dead

“Meaning, gods are more like mortals than you know. They feel loss, and pain; they long for those they love, they hold grudges, and they seek revenge on individuals who’ve wronged them. They fear many things. Growing old and feeble, diminishing in power, losing the adulation of their worshippers—and most of all, death, which comes to us all eventually.” She snipped a branch from the shrub, causing it to squeal in pain and anguish. “Make no mistake, druid—there are those gods who see you as a threat to their continued existence. That alone is reason for many to want you dead, but some feel they have more reason than others. I can say no more.”

He thought he pushed to hard but Queen Maeve let him live

“Shit, I forgot Hideie was coming today. Alright, I’ll get there as fast as I can.” Minutes later I pulled up to the junkyard, only to find Hideie and Click squaring off in the parking lot. Hideie had glamoured himself to look human, thankfully. The amused expression he wore said he was taking things a lot less seriously than the quasi-god standing across from him. Oh boy, he’s in one of his moods. Time to defuse this situation, before he sends Hideie back to feudal Japan.

Nice friends... instant dislike there

“You, behave yourself!” I turned a disapproving eye on Hideie. “And you—what did you say to get him riled up like this?” The old tengu’s dour expression belied the mirth in his voice. “I merely implied that the tutelage I’ve been providing you in kenjutsu is vastly more practical than instruction in magic. And many times more likely to save your life.” Click jumped at the yōkai, forcing me to stiff arm him to keep them separate. “Take it back, ya’ cock-swabbing feather duster! I’ll clobber ya’—nay, I’ll send ya’ back in time is what I’ll do. Take ya’ back ta’ when ya’ were just a wee egg in yer mam’s rookery, then crack ya’ into a frying pan and have ya’ fer an omelette. See how ya’ like that!” “The magician might find that very hard to do once his head has been separated from his shoulders,” Hideie replied with a bemused smile.

Clash of philosophy LOL

Click shared a look with Finnegas. “They’re so cute when they start learnin’ that time is a construct.” Finnegas scowled. “Don’t think this means we’re friends. Personally, I’m hoping the tengu slips and accidentally skewers you during the lesson.” The Welsh magician nodded enthusiastically. “Aye, me too!” I addressed the tengu and the godling as I headed for the Druid Oak. “C’mon, you two—the sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can find Fallyn.” Click tapped a finger on his chin. “Fallyn, fallen, fall in… damn it, I had somethin’ ta’ tell ya’, but it’s slipped my mind.”

Finn still not happy with Click being near Colin

Then, I tromped over to my little tree-cabin to grab a clean pair of jeans while Click busied himself by chatting up a few birds. My curiosity got the best of me, so I tuned in with my druid senses to see if the birds had anything to say. Of course, the conversation turned out to be one-sided, which further solidified my opinion that Click was ninety-nine percent batshit crazy.

There's a lot of "batshit crazy" going around

Click tapped his temple with an index finger. “He sees the future. Not far ahead, maybe a moment or two. It doesn’t take much magic ta’ do—just a bit o’ skill—which is why ya’ never noticed him doin’ it. But, it’s enough ta’ allow the birdbrained prick ta’ anticipate yer moves, and then counter ’em almost before they happen.” “Shit, then I’m never going to beat him,” I said. “Oh, I would’na say that. He is teaching ya’ ta’ handle a blade like a pro, and that’s the truth. But ye’ll have ta’ learn his trick if ya’ wanna best him.” “Wait a minute—I can learn how to do that? To anticipate my opponent’s moves?” “Why, o’course ya’ can. Anyone with enough talent at chronourgy and chronomancy could, if they only had someone ta’ show them.”

Cool new lessons

“Going full-on stalker, aye?” He frowned. “Not your style, mate.” I pulled out a pair of binoculars, knowing full-well it made me look like a creeper. Hopefully, with the obfuscation wards activated on the druid-mobile, nobody would notice.

Stalker mode complete with binoculars and druid-mobile

Fifteen feet away, the final cu sith coughed up my gun in a pile of dog vomit and saliva, then it turned its eyes on me and bounded across the clearing. Going to be hella fun to clean that.

Yech stomach acid is nasty stuff

When the bloody mist and smoke cleared, Hemi was standing about ten feet behind the dog’s remains, wiping dog guts off his face. I had the cu sith’s mouth and neck wrapped around my upper arm, and the damned thing was still gnawing on me, not yet realizing it was dead. My friend looked at me, and I at him as I ripped the lower jaw from the demon dog’s skull. “Fucking hell, mate. Next time, just throw a steak on the barbie.” A chuckling groan escaped my lips, then I passed out.

I'm with Hemi !?@$

Just to be an asshole, I fishtailed through a U-turn, kicking up gravel and a cloud of dust that enveloped the entire driveway and Crowley as well. Chuckling, I kept my eyes on the rearview mirror so I could see how he reacted. The dust cloud parted around the wizard, just as a rock pinged off my windshield. By the time my tires hit county pavement, I had a spiderweb crack covering half my windshield. Oh, you fucking douche. That was one good thing about Crowley—we always knew where we stood with each other.

Boys, boys, boys so childish

I skidded to a stop, snatching my lead leg and arm back. As the portal closed, it severed the tip of my middle finger and about half an inch off the toe of my boot. “Shit!” I yelled at the sky. “Mother-fucking ever-loving cock-sucking Celtic wannabe god assholes!”

Ouch that's gonna smart for a bit

Samson tugged on his beard for a few seconds, fuming. “What’s the old man have to say about all this? And where is he?” “No idea on both counts,” Maureen said. “He told me he was goin’ ta’ find answers, and we haven’t heard from ’im since yesterday. Ya’ know how he is, Samson. He’ll show up after things have gone pear-shaped, naked and fartin’ thunderclaps with his wee bits flapping in the wind, no doubt.” “We can hope,” I said under my breath.

Maureen has a way with words

I turned to address the others, intending to tell Maureen and Hemi to split and regroup later while I disposed of the body. Before I could speak, Samson flew over our heads, crashing through the second-story glass facade of the mansion. Dermot’s high, maniacal, laughter echoed behind me, and that’s when I knew things were about to go to hell in a hand-basket.

Sampson tore apart someone but who??

Older werewolves were not good swimmers—their bodies were way too dense. Someone needed to fish him out. No matter how fast they healed, werewolves had to breathe to survive, and they needed even more oxygen due to their high metabolisms. I cupped my hands and yelled down the hill. “Crowley!” “Consider it done,” he said in a conversational voice, knowing I would hear him.

Poor Sampson very undignified to be "fished out"

“Diarmuid gave Niamh his word that the locals would’na see anythin’ unusual. ’Twas one o’ her conditions fer lettin’ him face ye in her demesne. I have magic sufficient to keep that promise.” So, Maeve allowed this to happen. I wonder, is this her way of paying me back for betraying her?

Colin will have words with Maeve about this

I lifted my gaze from my ruined torso across the sandy, scree-filled beach. There was Áillen, strolling toward me like he had all the time in the world. And he did at the moment, because until my body healed, I wasn’t going anywhere. I heard water lapping at the shore close by, and wondered if it would be the last time I’d hear that sound. Wait a minute… water? Fuck me, but I’m an idiot.

Yes, seat of his pants inspiration

His belly expanded rapidly, like a water balloon on a wide-open garden spigot. Within seconds, he exploded with considerable violence, releasing steam and heat in a blast so forceful it sent me tumbling along the rocky shoreline.

Yech gross but effective

The legends romanticized it, making Diarmuid out to be a ladies’ man. What using his ability amounted to, however, was rape—no two ways about it. Just thinking about it had me seething with fury. Finally, I was forced to face the fact that he might have sexually assaulted Fallyn, despite his promises to the contrary. Up until that moment, I hadn’t wanted to think about it. Thinking about it brought me face to face with my own failure to save Fallyn, and brought to light that it was my fault the fucking scum had taken her in the first place. When I used Fionn’s magical insight, it forced me to see the truth of things. So, there was no denying the possibility now.

Hero streak a mile wide...you go Colin!

“That you can’t beat Diarmuid in a free-for-all is true. His powers are beyond you, and his deific heritage provides him with an unfair advantage that will most certainly result in his victory and your defeat.” “Isn’t that what I just said?” I replied, with a bit more snark than I’d intended. “Correct,” the old druid countered. “Which is why we need to ensure that it’s a fair fight.”

Yes, they are going to go for the win by any means possible

“Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, as advisor and druidic counsel to Colin McCool, I hearby invoke his right to a fair duel, by way of seeking redress for harm you’ve caused to him and members of his fiann, under the law and code of the fianna.”

Finn trying to interject a qualifier

“Lady Niamh, let us discuss this matter in private—” Diarmuid objected. “I’ll do no such thing,” she replied coolly. “When your father asked that I allow you safe passage through my demesne, he promised you’d take care of whatever business you had here quickly and with as little fuss as possible. “Instead, you’ve disrupted the peace, abducted the local Alpha’s daughter, placed hundreds of people—some of them, my subjects—under your glamour, and left corpses and bloody messes for my people to clean up all over my lands. “Oh, and your agent nearly burned down one of my lake houses. So no, I will not speak on this matter again. Seer, let me know when and where the duel will take place, so that I may attend.”

Now Dermot has pissed off Maeve too bad boy

At first, I’d thought it had to do with revenge. But the way she’d stepped in, forcing the guy to agree to a duel, well—now I had no clue, which was just as well. The day I started understanding the motivations of the fae would be the day I packed it in. Because at that point, I’d know I was batshit crazy.

LOL and taking on a demigod isn't batshit level crazy?