Surely a tree of life isn’t that vulnerable. That means even an innocent logger cutting timber could destroy mankind.”
“Nay, the trees aren’t that vulnerable,” Robbie said with a shake of his head. “A saw would dull at the first slide of its blade into the trunk of one. But Daar’s pine was dying beforethe top was cut. It had grown weak trying to balance the energies. Something has disturbed the continuum, Winter, and having its energy drained is what made the pine vulnerable.”
“It was already dying before someone cut it?” she whispered, stepping out of her mama’s embrace and turning to Daar. “So the problem isn’t that someone cut your pine, but that…this Cùram wizard you’ve been talking about has upset the continuum.”
“Aye,” her papa said before Daar could respond. “We believe Cùram is here, and that he’s come to destroy mankind.”
“But why?”
“We don’t know why,” Grace said. “That’s what we’ve been trying to figure out for the last two weeks.”
“So did Cùram cut the top off the pine?” Winter asked.
“I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think so,” Daar said with a sigh, finally lowering his hands holding the tiny staff. “That’s another mystery we’ve been trying to solve. We don’t know who cut it, or what that someone did with the top. The storm that night wiped out any signs we might have been able to follow.”
Winter stared in silence at the staff Daar was now leaning on like a cane, then looked at her papa. “S-so you want me to take up my calling to be a drùidhso I can find Cùram and stop him? And if I don’t, mankind will die?”
Her papa said nothing, merely nodded. Winter looked at her mama, only to find tears welling in Grace’s eyes as she neither nodded nor shook her head. Winter then looked at Robbie, but finding his expression completely unreadable, she turned her attention to Daar.
“If I do this…if I choose to honor the destiny you claim is mine, and destroy Cùram and save the pine, can I…can I then go back to being just me? Can I renounce my calling after?”
“Nay,” Daar said, breaking eye contact to look at the floor. “Ye have the free will to choose, but once ye do, there’s no turning back.” He looked at her. “If ye choose to take up yer power, ye can’t suddenly decide ye don’t want it anymore. Once knowledge is gained, ye can’t simply forget what ye’ve learned.”
“So if I take that staff,” Winter whispered, looking at the frail piece of wood he was holding,
“then I become a drùidhjust like you?”
Daar frowned. “It’s not that simple, girl. Ye can take this now,” he said, holding it out to her again, “and nothing much will happen, other than ye’ll get a feel for its energy. It’s not until ye make the commitment in yer heart that yer come into yer full power.”
Very slowly, more scared than she’d ever been in her life, Winter reached out and took the small, pale white staff from him—as everyone in the room it seemed, including her, held their breath.
The moment her fingertips touched the wood, a gentle, almost imperceptible trickle of energy moved through her, causing the fine hairs on her body to stir. The muted hum began as a whisper when her hand closed over the staff, then rose to a pulsing vibration that echoed each pounding beat of her heart. Colorful tendrils of light appeared, dancing through the one-room cabin, engulfing everyone in a strobe of sizzling, blinding energy.
“Hold tight,” Daar called from a great distance. “Don’t be afraid, lass.’Tis only the magic welcoming ye. Embrace the knowledge, Winter, and feel its joy.”
She couldfeel it: the energy filled her, charging even her hair with static, making her reel with weightless freedom. Time stopped. All five of her senses sharpened. She could even tastethe powerful colors, individually distinct, swirling around the room in pulsing waves that seemed to begin and end with her.
And then Winter felt something even more acute as she clutched the thin staff to her chest, something indescribable; a sort of sixth sense settled over her in a blanket of knowledge, so powerful that Winter thought she might explode with awareness.
She suddenly cried out as the force of the turbulent maelstrom became too much, and ran for the door. She grappled with the knob, finally got the door open and stumbled onto the porch, mindless to the frantic shouts behind her. She had to get out. She had to leave before she was consumed!
She ran down the steps and into the clearing, nearly tripping over Gesader when he suddenly appeared in front of her. “Help me,” she cried, groping for the fur of his back. “Please, help me.”
Blinded by tears and the swirling energy pulling at her, Winter clutched her pet’s fur as he led her stumbling up the overgrown trail. She had no idea how she did it without benefit of a stump, but the next thing Winter knew she was mounted on Snowball, leaning forward with her face buried in his mane, crying uncontrollably as her trusted friends took her away from the horror of Daar’s cabin.
Chapter Fourteen
“G et out of my way,”Greylen growled, preparing to move Robbie from the door if need be.
“Nay, Greylen,” Robbie said, leaning against the door with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Winter doesn’t need any of us right now. We’d only be filling her head with more questions. Trust me, Grey,” Robbie petitioned. “I had the same reaction she’s having when I came home from the army and my papa tried to explain my calling to me.” He smiled sadly. “I spent nearly a week alone in the forest before I was able to face anyone again, much less the man who had given me that calling.”
Grey gave Robbie a good glare, then spun to face Daar. “Ye lied, priest. Ye told Winter it was safe to hold the staff, but it nearly killed her!”
Daar held up his hands, backing away. “Nay, MacKeage, I didn’t lie. I just underestimated the strength of Winter’s gift. I didn’t know the staff would react so strongly.”
Grey felt Robbie’s hand return to his shoulder in a calming gesture, yet he didn’t turn to his nephew but continued to glare at the priest.
“She’ll be okay, Greylen,” Robbie said, moving around to his side. “She has Gesader to look out for her, and Mary will likely tag along in the shadows. Winter has a good head on her shoulders. She’
ll eventually reason things out, and then she’ll come back as mad as hell, demanding answers.”
“But there’s a storm coming,” Grace said, lifting fretful, tear-filled eyes to Robbie as she hugged herself. “They’re predicting snow. She can’t stay away for days in a snowstorm.”
Grey reached out and drew his wife to him, holding her head to his chest and absorbing her shivers. “Winter knows every nook and cranny on this mountain,” he assured her. “And how to survive with nothing more than a knife no matter the weather. She has an emergency kit in her saddlebag, remember? Robbie’s right, wife. Our daughter doesn’t want anything to do with us right now.”
“But ye mustgo after her,” Daar interjected. “Ye forgot about Gregor. Ye didn’t tell Winter she has to stop seeing him. Ye have to go after her and tell her now.”
It was Grace who spun around and took a step toward the priest, her fists balled at her sides.
“We are not telling her to stop seeing Matt,” she hissed. “She’s had enough bad news without realizing she has to spend the next two thousand years alone!”
“Gregor’s away on business,” Grey said, unable to stifle his smile as the old priest backed away from Winter’s formidable mama. “I believe he’s gone for a few days.”
It was Grey’s news and not Grace’s threatening stance that seemed to make Daar back off.