By the time Moira finished recounting the story yet again, she was sucking down the last of her daiquiri through the chewed-up end of her straw. Zanie listened with interest while Caleb fiddled around with the bar napkin, tearing it into little pieces. Leon listened to Moira while watching Caleb with obvious distaste. He kept shooting glares at Atticus where she lay curled up on one of the barstools as well.
“It is a shame that your Aunt and Uncle let their ambitions get in the way of what was truly important.” Leon shook his head and looked toward the TV, where a reporter was waving their arm at the flooding behind her. The screen cut back to the anchors who shook their heads gravely and transitioned to another news story about flooding. They showed drone footage of a woman standing atop a dam just before a deluge of water broke through the concrete and washed downriver. She was some type of water spirit, according to the reporter, who obviously knew about as much as anyone else, which was nothing. The broken dam washed away two towns. Jeremy wondered if they were even keeping track of the missing people anymore.
Leon shook his head again, “Moira, there is a room upstairs for you. Tomorrow, we will take you to meet with the Director and explain all this to her.”
“Hell no.” Moira said immediately, “I’m not going anywhere now that I know where Derek is. Tomorrow I’m going straight back to the hospital.”
“I’m afraid that decision is not up to you,” Leon said. Moira’s knuckles turned white as she gripped her empty glass.
“What about us?” Jeremy asked.
The doors flew open behind them, banging into the walls and making one of the framed paintings drop to the floor. Leon frowned.
“That is what we are here for.” A woman with a head full of wild, bouncy blonde curls stepped into the room. She was dressed in all black, from her pointy heels to her business casual suit to her glossy nails. Even though it was still dark out, she wore a pair of large dark sunglasses. Two men in black suits flanked her. One popped his gum obnoxiously. The other had a scar over his eye like some movie villain. The entire trio looked like they had stepped out of a Hollywood film. And their dramatic entrance only added to the effect. At Jeremy’s elbow, Caleb snorted.
Leon uncrossed his arms and looked distinctly caught off guard. “What are you doing here?”
“Settling matters with them.” The woman said breezily, “And here to pick up the material you gathered from Howard and Angela Feldman’s home.”
“But why did they send you?” Leon spat out the ‘you’ like it was a fly that had flown into his mouth. Jeremy wondered if any of these council members actually liked each other.
“Who are they?” Moira asked.
“What are you doing here?” Sean called from the steps, using the same inflection on the ‘you’ as Leon had. He clutched the banister with one hand and held a towel around his waist with the other. Judging from the growing puddle on the steps fed by his dripping hair and skin, he had rushed out of his shower to come down here.
The woman pushed her sunglasses down her nose and slowly looked Sean’s situation up and down. Her eyes were a strange, light gray color. Sean seemed completely unashamed, walking over to lean against the bar in nothing but the towel, dripping a puddle there instead. When nobody said anything, Moira smacked her palm against the counter.
“Who the fuck are they?”
She was ignored yet again. Sean pushed his wet hair out of his face and grumbled, “I told Jessica that we were bringing everything to the center. Why did they send you here?”
“The Director wanted to tie up loose ends.” The woman pushed her sunglasses back up her nose, “Things are chaotic enough. She does not want outsiders at the center, nor does she want them to know about the council at all. So, I am here to mop up your mess.”
“My mess?” Sean scoffed, “This is Howard and Angela’s mess.”
A sudden shattering noise drew everyone’s attention to the opposite wall. The remains of Moira’s glass fell to the floor, a pink smudge left on the wall by what had been left of her drink. She was standing half-off her stool, arm raised from chucking the glass and a furious expression on her face. Pronouncing each word, she asked again, “Who are they?”
“The hit squad,” Sean said blandly like he was announcing a barbershop quartet instead of a trio of movie villains. Jeremy picked Atticus up and glanced toward where their bags were slumped on one of the tables. Sean turned his attention back to the woman, “I distinctly remember telling Jessica that they were potentially useful.”
He glanced over his shoulder at them, eyes snagging on Zanie for a moment. They had not even been introduced yet, but Sean kept that to himself. It did not matter because a moment later, the two men reached into their jackets and pulled out handguns. Jeremy cursed as they racked the slides and aimed them at him and the others. This was going in exactly the direction he had hoped it would not.
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“Now listen,” Sean said, putting up one hand in surrender because the other still held up his towel, “When I say potentially useful, what I mean is that they are still hiding something. They were involved in the failed ritual, sure, but there is something else going on here. Moira can turn into a dragon.”
The woman shifted at that, settling back on her hip and looking over Moira. Or, at least, Jeremy assumed that was what she was doing. Her eyes were hidden behind the sunglasses, though. The handguns remained trained on them. Jeremy glanced out of the corner of his eye at Leon. He wondered if the guy had a shotgun under the counter. Jeremy probably wouldn’t be able to get to it even if he did.
Sean continued his argument, “And him…Jeremy. I haven’t been able to figure out what he does yet, but I just know it’s something.”
He glared over his shoulder. Jeremy widened his eyes innocently.
“That may be so.” The woman mused, “But orders are orders.”
The men’s fingers moved from the trigger guard to the triggers. Jeremy cursed himself nonstop in his head. He should have been more careful. He should not have gone to a second location with these people. He should have learned more magic so he would have something other than a handful or water or a pebble to throw at them. He could throw his knife, but he’d never been terribly accurate at that and bringing a knife to a gunfight was never a good plan. His arms tightened around Atticus. He could toss her at them. It would make a good distraction. He prayed to whoever was listening that she would be okay as he made the split decision to chuck her into the air.
“Duck!” He shouted, throwing himself off the stool. Atticus let out a displeased yowl, and one of the guns went off. Jeremy landed on his shoulder on the hardwood floor. He scrambled behind one of the tables and then looked up.
Everyone else had scattered as well, including the hit squad. This was because standing in the doorway, with a squirming Atticus in her arms, stood the dryad from earlier. The guns were now trained on her as the hit squad eased away from the door. Sean crouched by the bar, and Leon slowly stood up from behind it. Everyone else was hiding among the tables just like Jeremy.
The dryad stared down at Atticus like she was unfamiliar and curious about such a strange creature. Atticus did not care how strange the dryad was. She was just pissed about Jeremy throwing her and wanted to be put down. The dryad seemed to sense this and bent to put her on her feet. Atticus disappeared into the shadows of the restaurant in a dark blur.
“What on earth?” The hitwoman pushed her sunglasses down to get a better look at the dryad. Jeremy wondered why she would not just take them off. The dryad ignored everyone except Sean. She swept through the doorway, then went over and loomed above where he crouched by the barstools.
“Druid.” She said in that strange echoing voice. Then she said nothing at all, just staring down at him with eyes that were made of wood grains but could obviously still see. After a few beats of silence, Sean looked around as if she might be speaking to someone else.
“Uh…”
“Explain to me the manipulation that has been cast over this world.” The dryad demanded.
“Uh…”
This was not really the time for Sean to be speechless. But he simply gaped up at the dryad. If she was here, she had obviously beaten the kelpie. Jeremy counted her rings and found another had been added. She now had ten, and her overlay was a burnt orange color. She had probably killed the kelpie then.
The leaves of the dryad’s hair rustled when she did not receive an answer. Her eyes narrowed at Sean, “Are even the Druids unsure of what spell was cast?”
“There are no Druids?” Sean found his voice, though it lifted at the end of each statement as if he were asking a question. “I’m not a Druid?”
“Why would you lie?” The dryad boomed, “Are the Druids responsible?”
“No, there’s…well, um.” Sean pushed some of his wet hair back from his forehead, “A spell was cast several millennia ago to cut off the use of magic. Since then, this world has been without magic, and creatures such as yourself have been…locked away somehow?”
The dryad took a step back and looked around the room, then narrowed in on Sean again, “You are a magic user. I can sense it on you, just as I can tell you are a Druid. If there has been no magic, how can this be so?”
“Some of us could use magic,” Sean admitted. Jeremy was impressed by how little his voice shook, “But there are no Druids anymore.”
“You are connected to the natural law. You are a Druid.” The dryad told him in a tone that left no room for argument. Then she looked around again, “This is a world that grew without magic then. It has lost touch with the natural law. But the gates have been reopened. I have begun to re-grow my forest. I have found a Druid. Matters will be set to right.”
Everyone had been watching in total shock, but now the hitwoman stepped forward. “You are from before the spell?”
“I have existed for thousands of years.” The dryad answered, which was not exactly what the hitwoman asked. But it was apparently good enough. She flipped a lock of hair back over her shoulder and nodded.
“So, then you have knowledge of things.” She mused, “You know what the gates are and how magic worked before. Sean, this is someone who is actually useful. Ma’am, I’d ask that you come with us. I have someone that you should speak to.”
“I will work through the Druid.” The dryad insisted.
“That is fine.” The hitwoman flapped a hand, “He can come too. Let’s go right now.”
“Go?” The dryad repeated.
“Yes. Sean, go get dressed since she apparently won’t come without you. We will take care of these loose ends in the meantime.”
The handguns were suddenly directed away from the dryad and back to Jeremy, Caleb, and Zanie. Jeremy gripped one of the chairs, ready to launch it at the men as they advanced on where they hid among the tables. But before he could, Leon produced a shotgun from behind the bar and leveled it at the men.
“Like hell you will," Leon growled. “Coming into my restaurant and barking orders.”
The men did not even look his way, continuing to advance. They apparently did not believe that Leon would actually shoot them. Sean shouted something, but it was interrupted by the blast of the shotgun going off, immediately followed by the sharper bang of one of the handguns.