Grey paled. “Me?” he whispered. “I don’t have any powers, priest. I’m a warrior, not a wizard. Hell, I don’t even have the power to control my own daughters most of the time.”
Daar smiled. “Oh, Greylen. Ye have always carried our legacy in ye. Along with giving her yer warrior’s heart, ye also gave Winter the knowledge of the universe. From birth, Winter has been a drùidh.”
“Then why hasn’t she—” Grey suddenly stiffened. “Ye said ourlegacy. What do ye mean by our?”
“Just that,” Daar said with a smug grin. He angled his head. “Have ye never wondered why I chose you to father my heir, MacKeage? It’s because you and I are descended from the same ancestor.
We’re cousins, Greylen, with only five score of generations between us.”
It was Grey’s turn to scrub his face, as he tried to rub away the horrifying notion. He was related to Daar? Holy hell!
He still wanted to kill him.
“I couldn’t father my own heir,” Daar continued. “Because if a drùidhhas a child, his powers are lost to a future generation. That’s what happened with our mutual ancestor. He chose marriage over what Providence asked of him, and so his power was handed down to me, his grandson.” Daar pointed at Grey. “But you also received the power of a drùidh,held dormant for all those generations, in case I gave up my own destiny or for when I finally needed an heir.” Daar clasped his hands behind his back. “I chose to serve Providence, so I became a priest instead of a husband. Then I simply waited until I could match ye up with Grace Sutter, so ye could have seven daughters together. And yer last daughter, Winter, is my heir.”
Grey thought about that. And he thought about his baby girl’s destiny. He leveled his narrowed, evergreen eyes on Daar. “So you’re saying that each drùidhhas the choice of renouncing his destiny? All he has to do is have a child?”
“Aye,” Daar confirmed with a nod. “Like everyone else on this earth, even drùidhshave free will.”
“Then Winter still has the right to choose.”
“Aye,” Daar said, even while shaking his head in negation. “But if she chooses to renounce her calling, there will be at least a two-generation gap in our lineage. By the time a new drùidhis born in our line, it will be too late. My pine tree will surely die before then, and that would start a disastrous reaction with all the other trees of life.”
“Why can’t another drùidhcome here and save yer tree?” Grey asked. “And ye can leave Winter out of it.”
“Because they’re all trying to protect their own trees,” Daar rasped in frustration. “Each tree is dependent on its own lineage of drùidhsto nurture it.”
“Then how were ye able to steal a root from Cùram de Gairn and grow it into yer white pine?”
Daar took a calming breath and dropped his gaze. “I…ah…Cùram’s lineage dates all the way back to the beginning of the continuum. He’s descended from master drùidhs.”Daar shrugged. “That was why Robbie had to get me a root from Cùram’s tree. Its energy is—or was—the source from which every tree of life originated.”
Greylen dropped his chin to his chest, absorbing all that Daar had said. He quietly asked, “But it is Winter’s decision?”
“Aye. It’s her decision,” Daar said softly. “But knowing yer daughter, Greylen, do ye think she can turn her back on her destiny once she realizes the consequences? Is Winter capable of just letting the world come to an end?”
“Nay,” Grey admitted, hanging his head again for another interminable silence. He finally looked back at Daar. “Why are ye so sure Winter can save yer tree? She’s young and unschooled in the way of drùidhs.”He shifted uneasily. “And this rogue guardian? Who’s to protect her from him?”
“You will,” Daar said. “And so will I, however I can. And don’t forget Robbie. He is still a powerful guardian himself, Greylen. We’ll all try our damnedest to protect Winter. Hell, even that beastly pet of hers, Gesader, would lay down his life for her.”
“Ye sound more worried than confident,” Grey said, taking a step toward him. “Can we really protect her?”
Daar held his ground this time, his eyes softening with understanding as he shook his head. “I honestly don’t know, because I don’t know exactly who or what we are up against.”
“How do we find out, then?”
Daar continued to shake his head. “We’ll find out when whoever he is lets us find out. If he’s a rogue guardian, there must be a reason why he turned. But until his agenda is known, we might as well be wearing blindfolds on a moonless night.”
“Why haven’t ye gone to Robbie MacBain with this?”
“I have. He told me I must speak with you first.”
“Ye will not tell Winter without my permission,” Grey said, backing up his words with another threatening step.
Again, Daar stood firm and shook his head. “I have no intention of telling her anything. That’s your duty, Greylen. Once Winter comes to terms with who she really is, she will seek me out on her own.” Daar stepped closer himself. “I only ask that ye not take yer time about it, MacKeage. Once my pine tree falls, it might be too late to save the others.” He shook his head. “And I worry my tree won’t survive the coming winter.”
Grey blew out a frustrated breath as he stared at Daar standing by the fire looking old and feeble and nearly defeated. Grey suddenly felt just as old and equally helpless. He silently turned, opened the cabin door, stepped out onto the porch, and simply stood staring at the lake below as it glimmered in the early-morning sunshine.
“You’re still a powerful warrior, Greylen,” Daar said softly as he stepped onto the porch beside him. “You’re a highlander, MacKeage, with the strength and intelligence to help yer daughter through this. For as far as society has evolved since ye were born over eight hundred years ago, it still needs yer warrior’s heart to save it. That, and Winter’s powerful magic.”
Grey silently continued to gaze at Pine Lake, which was ringed by mountains draped in a mantle of colorful fall foliage.
“And ye have a small army at yer disposal,” the old priest continued. “To help ye in the upcoming battle. Yer wife will stand by your side, Greylen. And me. And Robbie MacBain. And don’t forget Grace’s sister, Mary, is still with us. That Mary is a snowy owl is an advantage, I’m thinking.”
Grey finally looked over at Daar. “I cannot fight what I can’t see, old man.” Folding his arms over his chest, he turned to fully face the priest. “If ye had to take a guess, who do ye believe is the threat? Who turned away from his calling?”
Daar squinted up at him. “Cùram, I’m thinking.”
“But ye said it’s likely a guardian, not a drùidh.”
“Ye know that cùramis Gaelic for guardian,”Daar reminded him. “He’s both, Greylen.”
“But how can that be? Guardians protect us from you drùidhs,ye told Robbie. So how can one man be both? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Aye,” Daar said with a nod. “Ye would think not. But Cùram is a product of both a guardian and a drùidh,and they produced an heir who was unique and very powerful.”
Grey paled. “If a drùidhmates with a guardian, their grandchild is even more powerful than them?”
“Aye. But it also balances out,” Daar quickly explained. “Cùram might be a powerful drùidh,but he can’t use that power against humanity. Ah…not directly, anyway.”
“So ye think Cùram de Gairn has renounced his guardianship, and that he’s the one killing yer tree?”
“Indirectly,” Daar emphasized softly, turning to look out over the vista below. “Something has angered or hurt Cùram so badly that he’s turned away from his calling. But in doing so, he’s also negated a good deal of his powers.” Daar looked over and squinted up at Grey again. “And that’s why I’m thinking he’s trying to find another way to get what he wants.”