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MacBathe held up a large, lantern-styled flashlight as they stood at the wide chamber’s cavernous entrance.
Trevor saw some old torches hung from the walls and lit them with a thought. Royce smiled at him. “Well done, Trev.”
He smirked at her. “Parlor tricks.”
She laughed, and Chance frowned at them both. “Right then, we are not here to play games.”
Both Royce and Trevor looked around with interest because, in all her years, Royce had never visited a real dungeon. It was exactly what Hollywood depicted them as. Totally bleak, gloomy, damp, and full with an assortment of stone slabs, chains, and an odd collection of forgotten furniture evidently stacked and stored by past residents.
Trevor walked over to an instrument of torture and in a disgusted accent said, “By Danu it sh
ocks me, though it shouldn’t, what degradation humans can inflict on one another.”
Lord MacBathe glanced at him for a moment and answered quietly, “Indeed, I quite agree.”
“Trev …” Royce admonished in a low voice.
He frowned at her. “Well, even you with your great love of humans must admit that they seem to thrive on conflict. And … look at these things they used to inflict pain—how could they?”
“Barbaric,” said MacBathe. “Aye, but we learned from our past.”
“No, you did not. Torture still goes on,” Trevor complained roundly.
“Oh, and I suppose we do not do much the same, but on a different level?” Royce threw back at him.
“No, we do not,” he answered smugly.
“I seem to recall tales of our wars—one so horrific, in fact, that it ended with the destruction of our beloved Danu!” she answered sharply.
His lips tightened, and he said, “That was a long time ago.”
“So what are you saying, Trev—we evolved? Cannot humans do the same?”
“Humans will never evolve. They don’t have it in them.”
“Er … begging yer pardon, young Prince, but … human here,” said his lordship.
Chance chuckled and slapped his friend MacBathe on the back. “And proud we are to have ye on our side, Druid High Priest.”
“Well, that is just it, isn’t it? He isn’t quite as human as the rest. He is a Druid—a high priest, in fact, aligned with the Fae,” returned Trevor.
Royce wanted to punch her long-time friend, but she decided to leave that till later when they were alone.
She had to get busy and find the Peckering. She could see that Trevor by his look of puzzlement had not yet discovered its location, and thus, it was up to her.
“Here, Princess Royce,” the Peckering whispered. “I am for you.”
“Why is it whispering?” Chance asked in a wary tone.
“I don’t want him to hear.” The Peckering’s tone was hushed and cautious. “The princess must take charge of me before he remembers where I am …”
“What are ye saying, Peckering? Is he here?” asked Chance.
“Yes, and no … now, please, come to me, Princess Royce—find me … take me.”
Royce went forward, sure as she touched the stone wall. She closed her eyes and whispered, “Here … she is here …”
“Never say so?” exclaimed his lordship.
