Invincible: The Curse of Avalon #4

by Skye, Sariah

  “But—if Avalon falls, and Nimue controls Avalon…Camelot is as good as summoned and humanity is doomed. We need to act,” Rhys said with determination. “I will go, because I can teleport. I can at least get the witches out.”

  “You’ll use too much energy, Merlin,” Mordred said, shaking his head. “As long as one witch of Avalon still stands, they cannot control it.” He began to glance at me and I widened my eyes gently. Rhys clearly got my meaning, as he cocked a brow slightly. If the guys caught on, they didn’t for long because Rhys steered them away.

  “If Igraine or Morgause is down and they can be saved—we need to. Or else Avalon doesn’t stand a chance, we need to go,” Rhys said with determination.

  “What about Ava? We still have her—she’s a witch, right?” Trystan inquired, buy Rhys shook his head.

  “She’s a priestess. A summoner. The isle itself still belongs to the witches,” Rhys explained, and Mordred opened his mouth to speak. I watched him very inconspicuously flick his hand at his side gently, effectively shutting the dark prince up with magic.

  “Fuck. What do we do?” Xander asked in an absolute panic.

  “Rhys could teleport in with one of us,” Mathias suggested. “Trystan could fly—that’d be faster than driving. Bash, can you siphon Rhys’ teleporting skills?”

  Bash frowned thoughtfully, reaching around and rubbing at his neck nervously. “I think so. Rhys’ magic is a lot more complicated than any of ours though, so…” Normally this would be a prime time for Rhys to make some sort of joke but he remained stone-faced. A true, dire sign that things were in fact, a fucking mess and shit was hitting the proverbial fan in Avalon.

  And the guys were still here bickering about what to do. When the solution was quite simple.

  The pulsing in the back of my mind grew considerably louder, until I could barely even hear them. Between the “isle," and the “sword,” the voices in my head and the compulsion to act were driving me mad. Rhys’ eyes landed on me after a moment of me standing tensely; fists clenched at my sides and I felt my face pinch and scowl. He probably sensed it, too: Avalon was calling us, and Excalibur was calling me to act.

  “Xander, you can drive in with Ava,” Bash delegated, and Xander, nodded. “Or better yet, drive her far from there.”

  I cocked a brow. “Wait. So…you’re not going to let me help? This is…my thing.”

  “Ava,” Xander spoke softly to me. “If you get hurt…” His voice cracked, full of emotion and not able to speak.

  “It’s a trap, Ava,” Mathias said, explaining softly. “They’re looking for you. If they get you…”

  I flinched, pressing my fingers to my temples as I clamped my eyes shut, trying to drown out the incessant, noisy call of the drums and the insistent voice of the sword.

  Forcing myself to open my eyes, I glanced apologetically at each of the guys, before my eyes landed on Rhys. I nodded ever so slightly at him, and his brow quirked gently. He knew what I was doing.

  “Guys…I’m sorry. You’ve left me no choice.” I called for the gentle buzz and willed the stealth magic out and watched as the air shimmered around me.

  “What the—” Mathias said in confusion.

  Xander’s hands were still on me even though I’d gone invisible. “Ava—whatever you’re about to do, dear don’t do it!”

  “I have to,” I whispered. I closed my eyes, picturing the isle in my mind and ignoring the shouts and protests of the guys, I teleported out hoping that my invisible magic would hold and I would arrive unseen. If not I was just going to have to face the consequences. Whatever it took to save Avalon…

  Chapter Eighteen

  I blinked in in an instant; it was little more difficult than taking a breath. Moving slowly, I knelt to the ground, taking everything in. A wall of shadow, like the one Nimue summoned that day in Alexandria, drowned out the moon and starlight from above, and several dark silhouettes that seemed even too dark to blend in with the night were hovering about several of the witches that had already fallen. If not for the floodlight from the barn a few dozen feet away, I wouldn’t be able to see a thing.

  Excalibur hummed around my neck and I gripped it in my hand, willing it larger, not caring if my magic held or not. When powered, the sword gave me a certain feeling of… invincibility. That was probably dangerous right now, but I was glad for it. I knew the soul in the sword would have my back. Otherwise I was going to crumble in both fear and sadness. Fear for what lay before me, and sadness because essentially, I just betrayed the guys.

  But I’d think about that later. I needed to act quickly, even though I had no idea what to do. I couldn’t fight all these shadow fae alone, even with Excalibur. I couldn’t expose myself because the guys were probably right—it was a trap for me.

  You’re not alone, Ava… don’t forget that. The sword thrummed with determined energy in my hand, and I sucked in a deep breath, summoning my courage.

  I heard a light groan from nearby, and I spun around to find the crumpled form of Morgause, writhing on the ground weakly.

  I called out her name gently and dashed over to her quickly, setting a hand on her shoulder. “Morgause…” I said, my voice shaking as I carefully rolled her over with one hand, the other still clinging to Excalibur for dear life. I flinched immediately; she was pale and her lips were turning a sickly shade of blue. “No… you can’t leave me. I barely got to know you. If my father dies, and Igraine is gone and you too? I’ll have no family left.”

  Morgause’s eyes gently but she didn’t stir. With two fingers I touched the pulse point on her neck, hoping there was still something there. There was, but it was incredibly weak. “Shit… no, you need to be okay. I can’t do this alone.”

  Without meaning to I felt my hand warm, and golden light poured out of it. That’s right… I can heal. Setting the sword carefully at my feet, I took both hands and placed them over her heart. “Come on… Avalon magic don’t fail me now…” With a deep breath I poured as much as I could, my hands heating and spreading golden light over my aunt, watching slowly as her lips and skin returned to her normal color and suddenly she sat up, gasping for air.

  “Oh shit—it worked. Thank god!” I said, relieved, frantically wiping away the tears that had fallen down my cheeks with the back of a hand.

  Morgause was dazed briefly. I winced, hearing a shriek begin to ring out from behind me.

  “Oh shit!” The sound was grating in my ears and I quickly pulled Morgause close to me, burying the side of her face in my shoulder tightly, and pressing my hand over her ear; my free hand pressing to my own as we cowered down, and cringed at the banshee yell that rang out through Avalon, watching as everything around us went immobile except for Morgause and I, thankfully barricaded from the full effect by my invisible barrier that seemed to work—somewhat.

  That was, until a foreboding sensation and the chill of a frigid wind slid over my shoulders. Slowly, I stood, grabbing Excalibur by its hilt, encouraged by the strong hum of magic from it and I rose it before me, face to face with Nimue.

  She waved a hand over herself, and her shadow persona dissipated and Nadina appeared, wearing black or gray from head to toe. “We meet again… Avalon.”

  “What have you done, bitch?” I spat in a growl, narrowing my eyes at her as I pointed the end of the blade right in her direction.

  She cackled bitterly. “Exactly what I wanted; I fucking lured you here, you idiot. I knew you couldn’t resist the magic pull of Avalon when threatened,” she said, smugly. She crossed her arms and twisted fingers over her chest as she eyed me from top to bottom in my slumpy jeans and Xander’s sweatshirt. “My, aren’t you perfectly dressed as trash tonight?”

  I snorted derisively, glancing down at myself. “Oh, this? You’re too kind,” I retorted dryly. “This is my fiancé’s, though. I’ll be sure to tell him you complimented his fashion sense. And, I’d rather look like a trash instead of a constipated meth user like you, Nimue.”

  She tipped her head
back and let out a loud, menacing laugh. “You still have your father’s quick, ridiculous wit! It’s too bad you’ll never see him again. Now that I have you, there is no reason to keep Lancelot alive.”

  My grip on the sword’s hilt tightened as I grew angrier. The golden light pouring off of the blade darkened, turning into a fiery orange. “You will not touch my father,” I said with menace through gritted teeth.

  Nimue scoffed. “Oh please. You won’t get anywhere near him.”

  “Right. Keep thinking that. And just what do you plan to do with me, Nimue? I would rather die than help you summon Camelot so whatever your plan is, it isn’t going to work,” I spat back at her.

  Nimue’s grin was evil. “You just don’t get it, do you? I really didn’t expect you to be that dumb. You’re literally the key to everything. When Morgaine channeled all the magic through you, it bound you to the isle for now and forever. Something I underestimated in the past, but I never will again. I thought your blood would be enough but as it turns out, I was wrong.”

  I chuckled bitterly. “Yeah, people have a habit of underestimating me. A habit you’ll soon learn is a big, monumentally huge mistake.”

  “Ha! You realize that while your mother has been collecting supes and harnessing childish parlor spells, I’ve been taking my energy from humanity and demon alike? There is no stopping me, really.”

  I rolled my eyes with exaggeration. “Oh, come off it, Nimue. Every magic has a weakness.”

  She shot me a slippery smile. “That is true. And I just acted upon yours and your selflessness to bring you here. Now—it’s time to die.”

  “Oh blow it out your ass. The guys and Rhys will be here any minute, and you won’t stand a chance!” I retorted, lifting Excalibur as it thrummed with power in my hand.

  “Really? You really think it would take your siphon and Merlin that long to get here? Hmm? I’ve blocked them with shadow, you Avalonian twit.” Nimue rose her hand, dragging along with it a mass of shadow from the ground.

  “They’ll get through it, you know they will,” I replied forcefully, hoping I sounded less afraid than I really felt. The guys should have been here already—at least Rhys, anyhow.

  “They will but it will be too late. Now, I have things to do and humanity to conquer!” With a gesture, she willed the magic into a large mass, and with a flourish, tossed it towards me.

  I swallowed with determination, keeping the sword lifted, the golden light shaping into some sort of friggin’ shield as the shadow mass crashed into me—and didn’t budge. Nimue appeared briefly stunned, but it didn’t last long because she was already summoning another mass to throw. I bit my lip, swinging at it with agility when it neared, the light of the blade slicing through it like it were nothing more than air. Again, Nimue seemed surprised.

  “Told you not to underestimate me,” I said triumphantly. While she was confused momentarily, I took advantage, lifting the blade higher, and charged towards her with all the force I had. She gasped in horrendous shock, and a wall of shadow emerged from her hands, slowing me down but I plunged the sword forward anyway. It was like cutting through frozen molasses and I didn’t make much headway.

  “Ava! Watch out!” Morgause called out from behind me and I glanced briefly over my shoulder, just long enough to see another shadow wall closing in towards me, another human silhouette emerging, and touching at me with a dark appendage.

  I spun around quickly and sliced at the shadow limb and the creature let out a hollow howl as it fell to the ground, and dispersed into a sickly gray steam.

  Distracted by the other fae, I didn’t have time to react when Nimue sent out a blast of strong shadow magic towards me. I gasped, this time sufficiently afraid and lifted the blade but I didn’t have time to react.

  “Damn it, no!”

  “Mordred?” I said, surprised, as Mordred appeared next to me with his hands raised high, stopping the magic before it could hit either of us.

  “So you defected after all. Such a disappointment,” Nimue said, shaking her head.

  “You’re the disappointment, Mother.” Mordred pulled up his own strange brand of shadow magic from the ground and thrust it forward, just as Nimue shot at him with a blast of her own. They crashed into each other in the middle, and Mordred struggled to hold his magic up, and hers back.

  Excalibur sang in my hand and the golden light dimmed and the purple stone in the hilt glowed and shot outward, encompassing the blade in a purple light and I deftly flung the magic outward, mixing it with Mordred’s. It lit up and grew, strengthening, but Nimue’s resolve was firm, even as the magic pushed forward.

  “It’s not enough!” Mordred shouted, squinting like I was, perspiration from exertion dripping down his forehead. “Dammit, where is Merlin?”

  “You called?” Rhys asked, appearing from thin air next to me, with a smug grin. I’d never been happier to see the crazy bastard in my entire life.

  Without waiting to be told, Rhys clapped his hands together, pulling them apart, summoning a ball of golden light and flung it towards Nimue with little effort. She cried out with surprise as her magic faltered and she fell to a heap in the ground. Mordred and I were finally allowed to let the magic drop and we released tense, panting breaths.

  “Uh, guys…hate to be the bearer of bad news but…” Rhys, with another ball of magic at the ready as he gestured with his head. We were surrounded by shadow silhouettes. “Where the hell is that siphon? He was right behind me…”

  “The shadow is tough to get through,” Mordred said, opening his hand and throwing his magic at the nearest silhouette.

  A shadow appendage reached out for me; besides the light from our magics, everything was pitch black. With startling dexterity, I swung at it, and the three of us kept this up as the wall of shadow continued to close in and reach for us.

  “Come on Sebastian—any fucking time now!” Rhys called into nowhere.

  “Can he even teleport now that you’re not near him?” I asked with worry, wincing and pulling my hand in as a shadow singed my arm. I gritted my teeth through the pain.

  “I don’t know,” Rhys replied grimly, chucking his magic at the shadow.

  “What about Trystan? Didn’t he teleport with you?” Mordred asked.

  “Stuck.”

  “Fuck!”

  “Ouch! Goddammit!” Rhys winced and called out.

  “It get you?” Without waiting, I set my hand on his shoulder or anywhere it could find—sure hoped it was his shoulder—and released the healing magic. He breathed a quick sigh of relief that was short lived, as we heard a piercing shriek from above.

  “Nimue—her scream! Ava, qui—” Mordred began, pulling at my arms as I continued to clutch the sword, when an object swooped down from above: a golden-brown object with green eyes with an eagle’s caw.

  “Trystan!” I cried out, as the eagle shifter flew around us quickly, the wind from his wings whipping wind around us and he shifted near the ground, feet first up to his head until he was his incubus self, clothing and all.

  Trystan glanced at me briefly but didn’t offer any sort of acknowledgement when he pulled a vial out of his pants pocket, and slammed it to the ground, releasing a dust cloud of silver and pink sparkles that quickly permeated the air around us and shot outward in an even distribution, causing the shadow to screech and shriek, collapsing to the ground. I recognized it to be magic of Leorah’s, the dragon shifter Bash worked with earlier.

  “How did you get through?” I asked.

  He looked to me, stone faced and spoke without any emotion in his tone. “Animals seem to be somewhat immune to the shadow shite. Bash gave me this before I flew in.” I was about to reach out to him, but Trystan gave me a stern glare before softening his expression and looking towards Rhys, who glanced around and nodded; something telepathically passed between them.

  “Good.” His gaze hovered over me briefly before he turned, and that’s when I noticed Bash suddenly appeared. He was armed with potions and a ser
rated blade, moving quickly, bending to stab at the dim shadow silhouettes that had collapsed to the ground, and overturning his vials over them. Whatever it was, it was dissolving them away in the wind, and the light from the night sky began to return. He tossed another pouch at Trystan who took out his own blade from around his leg and started doing the same with the other shadow fae around us.

  “Bash?” I asked cautiously. He didn’t even turn to look at me.

  “Uhh… Avie. You might just wanna hold off. Your men are… well let’s just say they’re pretty fucking pissed off,” Rhys replied.

  “That’s the fucking understatement of the goddamn century,” Bash added lowly.

  “The other two should be here soon,” Rhys said to me, with sympathy. “They had to drive in and you know Mathias—speeding like a bat out of hell.”

  “Right…” I let the blade drop at my side. “What should we do?”

  “And what happened to Nimue?” Mordred asked, slumping to the ground, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

  “Disappeared before we could subdue her.” Bash replied, as he and Trystan continued to dispatch the listless shadow fae on the ground, who without their shadow presence looked like nothing more than emaciated humanoids with sallow, gray skin.

  “Trys?” I asked, reaching out to him.

  “Not now, Ava. Not now,” he warned, shooting me a severe glare.

  “Bash?” I turned to him next, my voice a shaking, pleading whimper.

  “Do not speak to me right now, before I say something I’ll regret later.” When he looked at me his eyes were ice-blue; he was pissed.

  I knew it was going to happen, but I didn’t think I’d feel this upset.

  “Mordred, can you find any of the other remaining fae and let us know where they are?” Bash inquired, and the dark prince nodded singly.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Come on Ava. Let’s go find and heal the witches…” Rhys said, linking arms with me. “You can drop the blade now. I think they’re subdued enough.”