Black wizards - Douglas Niles [2]
"Why do you have to sort these stupid old vines anyway?" the dragon sulked. "Let them grow the way they want to – and let us go swimming the way we want to."
"I've told you a hundred times, Newt. This is the sacred grove of the Great Druid of Gwynneth, and she is training me in the ways of our order. Part of my training is to obey her instructions and to aid in caring for the grove."
The explanation sounded a little hollow even to Robyn, who had, for nearly a year, dutifully followed the instructions of her aunt and tutor, Genna Moonsinger. Today was not the first time the Great Druid had rested peacefully in the shady comfort of the cottage while her erstwhile student toiled away in the summer heat.
Still, Robyn was a devout pupil. She paused and drew a deep breath, relaxing as she exhaled. She repeated the process as her teacher had shown her, and soon she felt the annoyance pass away. Robyn turned again to the thick vines that threatened to strangle the trunk of an ancient oak. She even felt guilty about her doubts. Genna always works so hard, she reminded herself. She certainly deserves the rest.
Robyn's job was near the periphery of the enchanted area that was the Great Druid's grove. Near her were the tall hedges that bordered much of the grove, and she was surrounded by massive oaks. Closer to the heart of the grove sprawled a wondrous garden and its placid pond, and within these areas stood Genna's simple cottage.
Behind the cottage stood the grove's dominant physical feature, and also its spiritual heart: the Moonwell. The deep pool was surrounded by a ring of tall stone columns covered in bright green moss. The tops of several pairs of pillars were capped with stone crosspieces, raised by the earthpower of great druids in ages past.
It was to learn the secrets of this earthpower that Robyn studied her craft so diligently. She had proven, both to herself and to her teacher, that she had the innate talent to perform druid magic. This was the legacy of the mother she had never known. Inherited power was one thing; it was another matter to learn the skills and discipline necessary to control that power.
Robyn pulled on a thick root, bending it away from the trunk until it snapped free. She tossed it onto the pile and grasped another tendril with a hand that had grown strong and calloused during her training. That vine, too, came reluctantly away from the oak tree, but it required most of her strength to pull against the tension of the plant.
"Well, I'll help too, if that's what it'll take to get done with this. Here – I'll pull on this one and you grab that -"
"No!" cried Robyn, but before she could stop him, the little dragon had seized a loose end of vine and pulled it with a strength that belied his small size. The vines she had so carefully untangled burst free and instantly twisted back around the tree trunk.
The springing mass of vines caught the faerie dragon in their coils, pinning him against the tree. A short, wriggling stretch of red tail and a tiny, clawed foot stuck from the tangle of vines.
"That serves you right!" she chided him as she began to pull the vines from the tree once again. "You should pay attention to what you're doing!"
Newt finally forced his head from the tangle and shook it quickly. "That's the last time I try to help you," he huffed as he crawled free. Flexing his gossamer wings, he buzzed into the air and hovered before her.
"Why don't you just use your magic on these vines and be done with the job?" he asked, eying the tree belligerently.
"The tending of the grove is a matter for a druid's hands and heart," replied Robyn, reciting one of her lessons. "The grove is the source of her magic, and thus cannot be maintained with it, or the magic would lose its potency."
"I should think it would be very boring to do all these studies and silly jobs,