AWEN RISING, E15: Chapter Twenty-One & Two
An Odd Question & Druid Library
Hi there, I’m glad you’re here! You have landed on Episode 15 of Awen Rising. If you are beginning the story, or looking for a different episode, just follow the links. Otherwise, you’re in the right place. Read on!
Episode One
Episode Two
Episode Three
Episode Four
Episode Five
Episode Six
Episode Seven
Episode Eight
Episode Nine
Episode Ten
Episode Eleven
Episode Twelve
Episode Thirteen
Episode Fourteen
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Chapter 21, An Odd Question
Mitch ripped through the BMW’s gears and peeled rubber leaving Emory’s parking deck. The bitch was useless. How Hamilton could even consider naming her as grand druid was beyond Mitch.
It was irresponsible. And extreme. He wasn’t the only one who thought so, either. The old man had exceeded his limits this time, putting a trainee in charge. Emily Hester would be the death of them all.
She’d been so lovey-dovey with Hamilton, too. Mitch’s skin had literally crawled. He’d wanted to grab her by the throat and shake her for making Hamilton mad at him. Flipping cunt.
If she turned Hamilton against him there would be hell to pay, regardless of his orders. The codger would be dead soon anyway. Flicking a button on his steering wheel, Mitch spoke out loud.
“Call Mother.”
“Calling Mother.” The computer was programmed to mimic Latoya Cloud, the sultry-voiced actress for whom Mitch had the hots. After two rings, Rona Barrett Wainwright’s face appeared on his instrument panel.
“Mitchell, dear, how are you?”
“I’m fine, Mother,” Mitch lied. “How are you?” His voice sounded strained. Fat wonder. He hoped his mother wouldn’t notice. Mitch got lucky.
“I’m good. But your father’s not feeling well. He threw out his back playing golf today. You know how he gets when he’s in pain.”
“Yeah,” Mitch said, “even more insufferable.”
“Mitchell,” his mother scolded. “That’s not nice.”
“But true.”
“Nonetheless.” There was a stretch of silence, then Rona asked, “Did you get the Hester girl installed?”
“Um, yeah.” Since when did his mother care about Hester family business? And how did she know about Emily? Or the hastily called meeting?
“Good,” Rona said and promptly changed the subject. “Tianna called us yesterday.”
Mitch made a mental note to pursue her odd question, but for now he let his mother gossip. Anything to take his mind off the hate curdling his stomach.
Swerving to avoid a scruffy kid panhandling a little too close to the road, Mitch checked his rearview mirror. The kid and his gang of ragamuffins scrambled back to the pavement, shaking scrawny fists at the Beemer.
Mitch chuckled, feeling slightly better.
☼☼☼
When her son was done venting his troubled spleen, Rona Wainwright replaced the phone in its cradle. Emily Bridget was alive. And in Druid Hills. She caught her reflection in the mirrored cabinet. The oft-reinforced mask had crumbled.
Dare she hope? Her eyes filled with unshed tears and a smile broke through the fog that had defined her existence for too long. Rushing to her secret office in the back of the house, Rona fumbled for the concealed drawer in her antique desk and popped it open.
Trembling, she removed a small oaken box and cradled it to her breast as she sank to the upholstered chair. She gently placed the box on the desk, then sat before it, frozen, agonizing over whether to open it or not. The box had done its job. Maybe Rona should let it be.
She glanced around the only room in the vast mansion that reflected her druid roots, and said out loud, “If not now, then when?” Then, she stared at the box for another minute.
Finally, with a whispered incantation into which she poured all her love and longing and hope, Rona broke the seal. The lid sprang open, revealing a perfectly preserved photograph of the baby she had let go.
Rona gently lifted the picture from the velvet-lined case. The emotions she had buried along with the portrait caught in her throat on a sob. Her eyes feasted on the tiny, oval face framed by wisps of scarlet-gold hair. Joy pierced Rona’s heart as she gazed at the smiling eyes.
Clutching the photograph of her baby to her chest, Rona waltzed around the soft rug. Her long-lost daughter was back in Druid Hills, and though Rona had promised to make no claims, and to never reveal the truth, her mother-heart was light, nonetheless.
Chapter 22, Druid Library
After Emily had demanded they bring her Da home from Emory, she removed Aóme and slid the ring in her pocket for safekeeping. Not being a druid, she felt unworthy to wear such a precious heirloom. But the tears began pouring and refused to be staunched. Everything else was a blur.
She was aware of Morgan bundling her into her new coat and leading her to the SUV, then helping her into the carriage house. Once inside, her aunt settled her on the sofa in the living room and swaddled her in a woolen throw. Morgan laid a fire in the hearth and disappeared.
Emily stared at the blazing fire, dabbing at her tears with a wad of crumpled tissue. Ralph roused from his cushion to climb in her lap and bump her chest with his head. She hugged him close and let her tears dampen his silky fur.
Morgan swept back in, carrying a cup of steaming liquid.
“Drink this, Hon,” the matriarch commanded. “It’ll put fire in your belly and warm your bones. It might even help with those waterworks.”
The tears leaked from Emily’s swollen eyes at a steady, though lessening, pace. She blew her nose before taking a tentative sip and gagged on the bitter brew.
“Urgggh. I’d rather have liquor,” she shuddered and pushed the mug back at her aunt. “That’s disgusting.”
“Yes, it is,” Morgan chuckled. “But you will drink it, nonetheless. No mixing it with alcohol, either. I tried that once and you don’t want to go there. Trust me. Now drink up. It will help you sleep.”
Hearing the magic words, Emily made a face, held her nose, and chugged. Gasping, she thrashed about on the sofa, dislodging Ralph and barely keeping the noxious liquid down.
“God, what is this?” she sputtered. “I nearly barfed.”
“Nearly being the operative word. How much did you get down?”
Emily held the cup for Morgan to inspect.
“One more swallow. A big one.”
“You know,” Emily sniped over the smelly decoction, “you must be family. I officially hate you now.”
Holding her nose, she took another swig and shuddered as the liquid met her protesting taste buds and seared all the way from her throat to her belly. She stomped both feet, quivering and wiggling all over.
Morgan was right about one thing; a fire set up in Emily’s solar plexus and radiated outward through the rest of her body. Her hands and feet, cold since she’d stepped from the Atlanta airport, warmed. Her face flushed, her ears burned, and her nose watered.
But the tears ceased and for that she was thankful. A peaceful calm descended upon Emily, and the burn died away. She sighed and hiccupped as her body relaxed.
Sensing her aunt’s scrutiny, Emily looked up at the stately woman. Morgan stood outlined in the amber glow of the hearth, a fire-angel warming her backside. She stared at Emily as if waiting for something. Hope, the talking tabby, watched her, too.
“What?” Emily demanded.
“Better?” Morgan’s brown eyes glittered.
Emily checked herself to see. “Why, yes.” Then she actually giggled.
“Good. It’s late and I need to get home.”
Morgan bent to speak quietly to Hope, then moved toward the door. “Hey, why don’t you have dinner with us? It’s close and you won’t have to be alone.”
But that was exactly what Emily wanted, and she said so. She wasn’t used to all this family stuff. The day had taken its toll.
“Then, how about I pop that lasagna in the oven for you? Mary’s cooking is superb.”
“No, thank you.” Emily rose on weary legs to see her aunt out. “I’m not really hungry. I think I’ll just rest.”
Morgan eyed her solemnly at the door. “Emily, you don’t have to do this alone. You have a family and a community of druids standing with you. We are many, and we are powerful. You will do just fine.” Emily wasn’t so sure but kept silent.
“Promise you’ll call if you need anything? I’m five minutes away. Literally.” Morgan’s brow creased, in spite of her cheerful tone.
Unable to stand it anymore, Emily finally asked. “Aunt Morgan, what the heck is a grand druid? My knowledge of druids is foggy. From fantastical tales, mostly.” She thought of the books in her mother’s box. They contained druid lore, but Emily didn’t understand their meaning or relevance.
“I know this is a lot to digest.” Morgan shrugged. “The simplified answer to your complicated question is that grand druids head druid orders. In our case, the Order of Awen.”
“And druids? What are they?”
Morgan’s brow knit and she said with an air of sadness, “Oh, Emily. Druids are peacemakers, shepherds of the earth. We care for the planet and all she sustains—the trees, the flowers, the birds, bees, and other creatures, including humans. We draw our magical powers from the Earth and that within her dominion—”
“Like the Jedi!” Emily interrupted.
“Kind of. Yes,” Morgan chuckled. “We do use our powers to foster peace and harmony on Earth and in the rest of the universe.”
“The universe, huh? That sounds pretty lofty.”
Ignoring the remark, Morgan commanded, “Follow me.”
~ Keep reading in Episode 16, Chapter 22, Druid Library, posting Monday, August 25, 2025, at 4:44 am MT. I will add a link here once the episode is posted. Please let me know if I forget!
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