Avalon's Last Knight

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Avalon's Last Knight Page 12

by Jackson C. Garton


  “You’ll like Morgan, too, then.” I just hope she likes you. “I know you’re not a fan because of what happened a few days ago, but she’s really nice. I honestly don’t think she’d go out of her way to hurt me.”

  Gwen scowls at me. “You seem awfully trusting of these two people that you just met…who can possibly summon demons.”

  When the library comes into focus, I breathe a sigh of relief. At some point the weather had started feeling more like summer and less like spring, and every time I open a door, I’m afraid I might turn into a black-and-brown puddle as soon as my foot hits the sidewalk.

  Maybe I shouldn’t wear so much black all the time.

  I hold the door for Gwen and a woman with a baby stroller. The AC hits my sweaty face and limbs, replacing the scorching heat with arctic pins and needles—that I prefer, if we’re being honest.

  “You weren’t there,” I say. “The stuff Morgan, or possibly Morgana, I’m not sure, was saying, wasn’t necessarily terrible or frightening.”

  “What exactly did she say?” Gwen asks. “And don’t forget she knocked you out, dude.”

  Telling Gwen exactly what Morgan said doesn’t particularly appeal to me at this moment, but I promised myself this morning that I wouldn’t keep anything from her—not if we’re going to find Tammy.

  I hesitate, then reply, “She told me that Arthur belonged to her. That she could take him from me.” The words don’t sound good, I already know this, but I refuse to hate Morgan, or think ill of her because of something that was said during a possible demonic possession.

  Thankfully Morgan and Mordy haven’t arrived yet, because the look in Gwen’s eyes could wilt an entire bed of flowers. I know what she’s thinking—that I’m a fool, putting myself in unnecessary danger and possibly jeopardizing my relationship with Arthur. But she’s wrong. Deep down, I know Morgan isn’t a bad person, that Morgana wasn’t a bad person—the realization sends me stumbling into a table and chairs.

  “Lance!” Gwen shouts, reaching for my arm. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m all right,” I reply. “It’s probably just the heat. It feels like the fucking Sahara out there.”

  “Did she say anything else?”

  “Yes,” I say. “She said that I once told her ‘a life for a life’.”

  The library is quiet and empty, save for the librarian and two pages stocking the back shelves. Saturdays and Sundays are pretty chill. In fact, this library is always chill—I rarely see anyone here.

  Gwen bristles. “What the hell does ‘a life for a life’ mean?”

  We enter the study room and take a seat at the table. I remove my side bag and hang it on the back of the chair. Gwen is still wearing a scowl, and now I’m thinking that maybe this meeting will be a disaster.

  “I’m not sure. Neither is Morgan.”

  Gwen folds her arms. “Or so she says.”

  “Come on, give her a chance before you start in on her.”

  “Give her a chance? That’s fresh comin’ from you. Do you hear yourself?” she barks. “You never give anyone a chance. You immediately hate them from the beginning, and then they have to grow on you. I don’t know how Arthur puts up with your bullshit.”

  “Queenie,” I say, “what do you want me to say? I’m sorry. I’m working on myself. You think I like being like this? Fuck, I’m trying my best here.”

  A gentle tap on the window interrupts our bickering, and I turn to see Morgan and Mordy standing on the other side of the door. I wave them in, and Mordy opens the door.

  “We intruding on something?” Mordy asks, his smile a welcome change from the scowl plastered across Gwen’s face.

  Morgan rushes to my side and envelops me in one large bear hug. I squeeze her in return, and we all take a seat at the table.

  “Morgan,” I say, “this is my sister, Gwen.”

  Morgan removes her sunglasses, and Gwen shifts uncomfortably in her seat, trying to maintain her anger, but she seemingly fails to do so when her expression softens.

  “Hello, Gwen,” Morgan says. “I’m pleased to finally meet you. Lance never stops talking about you.”

  Gwen’s glower slowly morphs into a thin smile. “Nice to meet you.” Her response is short, but more pleasant than I had expected. Morgan looks like a goddess today, even more so than usual, dressed in a sheer, strapless summer dress, the light fabric clinging to her curves. Gwen is as transparent as Morgan’s dress—a pretty face is the easiest way to get in her good graces, and Morgan isn’t just pretty, she’s positively nymph-like. Gwen’s fortress will be in shambles within the hour.

  After the dust settles, I produce a notebook, and we discuss everything we already know. Gwen shares her experiences with Emmett and her thoughts on Tammy’s disappearance. The twins air their concerns about Emmett as well, providing us with new information that Morgan learned this morning from their uncle. The conversation ends with us assembling a list of possible magickal sites here in Avalon, anything that might account for the darksome energy now accumulating in town.

  “Do you think we should talk to Arthur about this?” Mordy asks. “I mean, because of his reading and shit.”

  “As well as some other things,” Gwen adds, her voice icy again.

  I don’t have to look at her to know that she’s glaring at the side of my head. Bringing Arthur into our current situation isn’t ideal, not when we’re still trying to figure out if it’s just him that’s in danger, or if it’s the whole group, but Gwen won’t take no for an answer. Getting Arthur to believe that he, or we, are in danger will be a grand task in and of itself, and I can’t shoulder that burden alone.

  “If it makes you more comfortable, Lance, you three can talk to him. I don’t have to be there.”

  “No,” I say, eyes darting across the round table. “We’re all in this together now. It’s too late to turn back. So if you’ve got anything else to say, any secrets at all, you’d better get them out of your system, because this is it. No more man-behind-the-curtain shit.”

  Mordy holds out his fist and we all tap it, one by one.

  “What do we do next?” Gwen asks.

  The four of us push out our chairs, then stand.

  “You mean besides checking out these places?” I slip my side bag over my shoulder. “I’m not sure. Summer solstice is in a week and a half. Do you think we should do something for it?”

  Morgan and Gwen both say, “That’s a great idea!” then turn to look at each other. They don’t see it, but I do—that fate brought us together, that it brought them together. Mordy clears his throat, locks his arm with his sister’s, and walks to the door.

  “So, summer solstice is a thing we’re gonna do,” he says. “Check. But what about in the meantime?”

  My phone buzzes and I pull it out of my pocket. Arthur’s just sent me a text asking what I’m doing tonight, if I’m free.

  “Rocky Horror Picture Show,” I blurt out before I can stop myself. “Let’s go.”

  All three turn their faces toward me. “Excuse me?”

  “Tonight. There’s a midnight showing down at the MLK theater. Why don’t we all go?”

  “Do people dress up or…?” Morgan asks. Her excitement is as clear as the skylight above.

  We exit the study room and make our way toward the front of the library.

  “Word.” Mordy grins and high-fives me. “Let’s do it. I can drive.”

  “Yeah, you can dress up,” I say, answering Morgan. “But I’m not.”

  “Good.” Morgan laughs and puts her hands together. “Because Columbia is my favorite character. I can’t wait!”

  Gwen looks at me askance.

  Because Columbia is her favorite, too.

  Chapter Ten

  Litha

  The day before the solstice, Gwen asks me to help her clean the lake house Olivia is letting her borrow for the weekend. Their boss-employee setup is weird, super weird, but I’m not here to judge their relationship, or to make a big deal out of something
that doesn’t concern me, so I agree to help without offering my opinion. They’re both adults, and what they do is their business, I guess.

  When we pull up to the lake, I can hardly believe my eyes.

  Three stories tall and made of yellow brick, Olivia’s house is humongous and magnificent. The first floor is more window than brick, and there are flowering magnolia trees everywhere. We get out of Gwen’s car and begin our walk up the dirt road that leads to the big, fancy house.

  The front of the building is engulfed in wildflowers and purple bushes. There are no neighbors in sight and not a single boat on the lake. If seclusion is what Olivia’s going for, she’s got it down.

  Leading out to the lake is a long wooden dock, a dock that will undoubtedly be used as a launch pad into the water at some point during the weekend.

  I know how Arthur thinks.

  Inside, the house is just as nice and well-maintained. Other than dusting and possibly making beds, there’s not much to do. I wonder why we were even asked to come out here to clean.

  What is else is there left to do?

  By noon, we’ve already emptied the trash cans, thrown away the food in the refrigerator and sanitized the doors, wiped down the counters and swept the floor. Gwen is in cleaning mode, though, which is weird, because she hates to clean.

  “Hey,” I say. “Slow down. Do you want to order a pizza or something? Do you think we could even get delivery out here?”

  Gwen drops the broom in her hands and starts babbling. I get up from the couch and go to her. She’s obviously not okay, and I know how irritated she gets when someone states the obvious. When she turns around, her face is covered in tears and snot. I pull her into an embrace and stroke her hair, carefully avoiding her cheek piercings, which aren’t fully healed. I bet it hurts to cry.

  “Jesus,” I say. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Lena.” Her response is muffled by my T-shirt. “Lena broke up with me,” she says. “Can you fucking believe it? I wasted two years on that bitch.”

  “Oh no. I’m sorry.”

  Gwen wipes her nose with the back of her hand. “Left me for some dick named Ryan. Ryan. A man, Lance. A goddamn man. I’ve already cleansed my phone and deleted all remnants of her off my social media. But I loved her. We were supposed to move in together after she finished college. Guess she didn’t want to hang around a loser anymore.”

  “Hey,” I chide. “You are not a loser. Don’t call yourself that.”

  “Yeah,” she replies. “That’s easy for you to say, Mr. Astronomer.”

  “I’m not an astronomer yet. And none of that shit means anything anyway.”

  “No,” she says. “But you will be. And now I’m gonna be stuck in this fucking hellhole of a town with no one. What am I gonna do when Arthur leaves?”

  Arthur hasn’t mentioned anything to me about moving or going to college. If he has plans to do either, that’s news to me.

  “I need to burn something tonight,” she says. “And get really shit-faced.”

  There it is. I’m glad I agreed to come, because the idea of Gwen drinking next to a lake when she’s depressed freaks me out, and someone will need to keep their wits about them.

  After I’ve made us each a cup of tea, Arthur pulls up to the house in his truck. You can tell before he even arrives because the truck is making a weird knocking sound and you can hear it from a mile away. I walk down the driveway and help him carry bags of groceries up to the house. Gwen stays inside and finishes her tea.

  “Holy shit. This place is nice as hell. Are we really supposed to be here?”

  I shrug. “According to Gwen, Olivia’s cool with it. I dunno, but don’t ask her anything right now. Lena broke up with her, and she’s super pissed at the moment.”

  Arthur and I leave Gwen to process her feelings, and walk along the banks of the lake. Morgan and Mordy are supposed to join us later this evening, because Myrddin needs them for another early-afternoon ritual. We make it halfway down the dock before Arthur starts taking off his shoes.

  “You’re as bad as Gwen, you know?”

  He laughs. “I’m just taking my shoes off. It’s hotter ‘n hell out here, don’t you think?”

  Arthur’s not kidding. It is hot. And I wish I had brought a bottle of water with me. Too late now, seeing as how Arthur’s stripped down to his tank top and rolled up his blue jeans. When he submerges his feet into the water, I know I’ll be forced to do the same, because if not, my blood will boil inside my skin.

  “So, what happened?” Arthur asks, leaning back on his elbows. “To Gwen, I mean?”

  “I guess Lena broke up with her, said she’s seein’ another boy. Lena’s been away at Eastern for over a year now. I bet she’s been seeing that boy all this time.”

  “Jesus,” he says. “What a fuckin’ way to spend the solstice.”

  I run my hand through the warm water, admiring the spreading ripples. “Yeah, there’s a lot of fucked-up shit happenin’ right now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Arthur doesn’t know about any of it. I haven’t told him any of our theories, or about the time when Morgan attacked me, or talked to him about Tammy’s disappearance. None of it. I’m not withholding the information on purpose. I just need support, someone to tell him—and me, I guess—that I’m not crazy, that I’m not making it all up. One of my goals is to be honest with Arthur, to get everything off my chest once and for all, but I’m not ready to do it, not yet.

  “I have some stuff that I need to talk to you about later.” A car horn blares in the distance, and Arthur shields his eyes with his forearm. “But not right now,” I say.

  “What kind of stuff?” Worry lines form on his brow. “Bad stuff?”

  “Stuff that we don’t have to worry about for a while,” I reply. “Don’t get your undies in a bunch.”

  Arthur stands up and wipes his hands off, then removes his shirt in one swift motion and starts undoing his pants. I survey the area, shocked and disoriented by what he’s doing. It’s only twelve-thirty, and I have no idea if there are children within viewing distance. He drops his jeans and jumps into the water, splashing me in the process.

  “Arthur! You ass!” I shout as he dips in and out of the water like a cottonmouth. “I’m soaked.”

  Two hands plunge out of the water and grab my ankles. “Arthur, no!” I say, trying my best not to fall face first into the water. “Don’t do it! Don’t you fuckin’ dare! Arthur!”

  One minute I’m standing under a beautiful open, blue sky, and the next I’m holding my breath, clawing at Arthur’s arms, surrounded by brown water.

  “You had plenty of time to brace yourself,” he teases, spitting water at me.

  “What if my phone was in my pocket? What then? Would you have bought me a new phone?”

  “Yes,” he replies. “Of course I would.”

  That’s not the point! I want to shout at him, but he’s having too much fun, and I let it go. I’m not in a foul mood, and I’m not even that upset about being unexpectedly thrown into the lake because it’s so freaking blistering out here.

  We swim around for a few minutes, and race each other to arbitrary spots in the lake—which Arthur sets several times. I never win. Then I swim over to him and wrap my arms around his neck, keenly aware of my chest pressing against his bare back. Arthur and I wade in the water like this for a moment, without speaking.

  “Do you ever think about leavin’ this place?” I ask, my cheek propped up against his.

  “Where? Avalon? Yeah, sometimes.”

  I kiss his ear, then his jaw. “What keeps you here?”

  “My mamaw,” he replies immediately. My legs wrap around his back and hips, and he grabs my thighs. “Why?”

  “Gwen just mentioned it today, that once you leave she’ll be all alone.”

  Arthur steals me to his front, his hands now gripping my backside. “Why are you asking me this?” His voice sounds weird, like I’ve said or done something to upset him.<
br />
  “I’m just curious, is all. Are you actually able to touch down at this depth? Just how tall are you?”

  “Six foot four and a half, I think. Why are you curious?” he asks. “What do you plan on doin’ after you graduate? Move a thousand miles away from here?” From me is what he means, but doesn’t say.

  I tighten my arms around his neck. “Arthur Pendragon, I’m sorry, but it looks like you’re stuck with me. We’re a pair.”

  Being with Arthur means experiencing a lot of firsts—first love, first time living with a boy, first time making out with a boy in a lake. His mouth is hot and his touch urgent, like I’m a present that he’s trying unwrap—and I’m allowing myself to enjoy every moment of it. Arthur slides his hands up my shirt and tugs at my stomach. I know he’s afraid that if he goes up any farther I’ll pull away from him, so I squeeze his hips with my legs, hoping he’ll get the message.

  “I don’t know what adjective to use,” he says, finally resting his hands in between my shoulder blades. “So don’t get mad at me for sayin’ this. But you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” Accepting compliments is not a skill I claim to have. Accepting compliments from the boy I love? Out of the question. “Or handsome,” he continues. “I don’t really know if what I’m saying is politically correct, or whatever.”

  “Gwen told me that you saw us at a pool once when you were a kid.”

  Arthur blushes—I’ve never seen him blush. “Oh, Christ, she told you that? I am never telling her a goddamn thing ever again.”

  I laugh and kiss his pouting mouth. “Was it love at first sight?” I bat my lashes for dramatic effect and prop my chin on my fist.

  “Yes,” he says in all seriousness. “It was.”

  “You’ve got to watch out for Brown boys in baggy T-shirts and basketball shorts. We’ll steal your heart every time.”

  Arthur shifts his hips underneath my legs and I can feel his cock rub against my shorts. We’re still the only two people outside at the moment, and I can’t hear anyone or anything, so I reach my hand down into his briefs and take hold of him. He gasps and moans. Seeing him squirm in pleasure like this adds to my own mounting desires.

 

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