by Skye, Sariah
“Go well, my child,” Igraine stepped forward taking my hands and speaking with an emotional reverence. I bypassed protocols and dropped her hands, giving her a hug. Morgause got in on it quickly.
“I know you’ll be okay, because you’re brave, and your men are loving and loyal. But I still fear for you,” Morgause said, her voice trembling.
“I know.” It was all I could say.
“We will be here for you when the time is right,” Igraine said solemnly, before dropping my hands and stepping back with Morgause. She linked hands with the other nearby witches from Gabriella, the drummer, to several others; they all bowed their heads, seeming to pray silently. I felt my breath stutter, before I turned to the stone, and summoned my courage.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” I muttered, looking to Rhys and Mordred. I waved my hand over the stone to wake it up, and it shimmered with a bright golden light and the worn runes carved into it were transformed into what appeared to be a window to the other side, and a few lines in golden lettering.
“To enter Camelot, pledge your oath to the stone in blood so you can be allowed back home,” I read in Avalonian, arching a brow at Rhys, then repeating it in English to the guys.
Bash snickered loudly. “Really? After the huge, elaborate spell for Avalon, all this is is basically ‘knock and we’ll let you in’?”
“What?” Rhys asked, shrugging. “After all that I was tired. So this is what you get. Deal with it.”
Bash and I glanced at each other and chuckled, shaking our heads.
“All right everyone, let’s get bleeding,” Rhys said, with a grimace. “Fuck, I hate blood. Wish I’d been more creative and like, coughed on it instead.”
“You came up with this magic?” Mordred asked, surprised.
Rhys shrugged indifferently. “I helped, but it was long ago.” Mordred appeared impressed.
“Ugh,” Frowning, I hesitantly looked at Mathias first. I didn’t like the idea of cutting the guys and causing hard, no matter how tough they were.
“You can heal this right away, Ava… don’t worry,” Mathias said, reaching out and gripping the blade in his large hand, squeezing. “This way you don’t have to do the actual work,” he said, as a trail of blood appeared to trickle down the blade, landing on the ground just before the stone. It flashed gold, then silver before stilling, and we assumed it was the right thing to do. I grimaced, watching Mathias bleed as he took his hand away. Trystan stepped forward next as I held the blade out before me. He swiped his finger over the length, blood appearing immediately, he allowed it to fall to the ground. Another flash of light. Bash went next, gripping it like Mathias did and winced gently when the blood poured. I gave him a sympathetic look as he bled on the ground.
Xander was next, and without batting an eye he swiped his finger over the edge, shaking a stream of it onto the ground. Another flash of light as he winked at me.
“Rhys?” Mathias prompted, and Rhys bit his lip nervously.
“I really don’t like blood,” he muttered, frowning severely as he reached out to touch the blade.
“Here. We’ll do it together.” Mordred threaded his fingers into one of Rhys’, and he nodded at me. Trying to hide a big “aww” smile, I moved the blade in between their joined hands, and Mordred closed his grasp; piercing their skin with the sides of the blade as Rhys let out a little yelp and their joined blood fell to the ground, and a flash of golden and silver light flew up into the air at the spot where their blood touched the ground. It twisted and warbled, and a flash of bright light shot up from the ground and entered the portal, and with a crack of something that sounded like thunder, the portal twisted and opened, splitting in the middle and emanating outward. It sort of reminded me of some Stargate thing Bash made me watch once.
Mathias was the first to peer in, and he glanced back hesitantly. “Are we sure where this lets out will be safe?”
Mordred peered around him. “This looks like the forest area. Just outside the castle, right in the middle of it. We will be shrouded by trees, it should be fine.”
Swallowing nervously, I nudged the nearest guy: Bash. “Um, can you…?”
“Yeah.” Gingerly, Bash took my hand in his, and I aimed the blade until it connected with my palm. Knowing I would falter, Bash clamped his fingers over mine until I felt the hot sting of the blade searing my flesh. I let out a little shriek like Rhys did as my blood spilled and dropped to the ground.
“Sorry, babe,” he said, with a sympathetic smile as I pulled my hand away from the blade and clutched it shut, still flinching from the sting. He took it between his hands and brought my knuckles to his lips, kissing them for comfort.
“We ready?” Mathias asked, glancing anxiously at each of us, and we all reluctantly nodded.
Mathias sucked in a breath. “See you over there.” With one final glance at me, and a silent look at Trystan and Bash, he stepped in and disappeared.
“Let’s go, Morty,” Rhys said, with a hesitant smile. “Let’s get you home.”
Mordred snorted derisively at the word “home”. Rhys, still with Mordred’s hand in his, pulled the “dark prince” through the portal.
“All right, luv. We’re walking in together, just in case. Aye, Sebastian?” Trystan gripped my hand in his and with a nod, Bash still held the other. Both of them raised their blades in their free hands. I glanced back over my shoulder at Xander nervously; he’d be bringing up the rear.
“I’ll be fine,” he insisted solemnly.
I nodded once, and then looked to my grandmother and aunt who stood nearby.
“Go well, Priestess,” Igraine bid us a solemn farewell, and I smiled a wry “good-bye.” Morgause looked emotional, covering her mouth with her hand as she waved.
“Let’s go.” Bash took a step in, and I followed, immediately met with a freezing cold sensation and what felt like I was being squished. With a load roar in my ears, I felt weightless for just a singular moment until my feet landed on solid ground, and the brightness blinding my eyes subsided. I felt woozy for just a moment as a clearing, followed by a thick tree line surrounded us.
“Looks relatively harmless,” Bash observed.
“Yeah, except for the madman in the castle just beyond the trees, sure,” Rhys quipped, and I smirked gently at him. He gave Bash a pointed look, pointing at my hand, and Bash “allowed” Rhys to heal it with his magic. I breathed a relieved sigh, the sting and blood now gone.
“Well. That was fun.” Xander emerged from the portal a second later, and after he did it twisted and snapped shut, shutting the door on our way back home. A single, inconspicuous stone lay on the ground, covered with brush. When I narrowed my eyes at it, it shimmered gold briefly, marking the doorway to get home before turning gray into an inconspicuous stone once more. It felt so final.
“Now what?” I said, feeling uneasy at the silence and stillness of the woods.
“Any idea where we are exactly, Mordred?” Bash inquired, still keeping a hold of my hand.
Mordred sighed, pausing to glance around. “I’d say about a half a day’s worth from the castle.”
“And how about from my father?” I asked. “Where would he be?”
Mordred turned, narrowing his dark eyes into the woods. “It’s been a day since he contacted you, correct? Something like only an hour or two would have passed here, I believe. Since we’re about half a day’s distance from the castle, I believe we’ll probably run into him.”
My heart soared at the idea. “Really?” I couldn’t believe how relieved that idea made me. I could potentially be seeing my father in just a short time.
“But, there’s a lot of distance in between here and the castle,” Mordred said, with a defeated sigh. “We could easily miss him.”
“Never fear,” Trystan stepped forward, with a smirk. He lifted his sleeve, patting the leather cuff on his wrist, given to him by Finnian. “I could probably find him.”
“He’ll be hidden, I assume,” Mordred mused. �
��Might be difficult.”
Trystan gave a snort. “Och, laddie, my vision as a bird allows me to see a mouse from the top of a skyscraper. If he’s out there, I’ll find him. Lassie, what do you think?”
I shrugged. “It’d be nice to know where he is so we don’t miss him but… I don’t want you to go.” I outstretched my hand and took his, fearful of being separated from any of the guys for even a minute, not really knowing what to expect here.
“He’s untouchable as an eagle, basically. I think it’s a good idea,” Bash said and patting Trystan’s arm. “You’ll be safe, right?”
“Always, laddie.”
“Be careful, man,” Xander offered, and Trystan nodded.
“Aye.” Trystan shrugged out of his pack, handing it to Mathias who slung the heavy bag over his shoulder like it was nothing. He stepped towards me, cupped my face in his hands and placed a playful, grinning kiss against my lips, ignoring the snickering of Mathias behind him and Rhys’ wolf whistles. “I’ll be back.” He knelt and winked at me and with a brief expression of discomfort, shifted into his eagle form and promptly flew up high, letting out a loud eagle’s shriek that echoed through the sky.
“So… now we wait, I guess,” Bash said, stripping off his gear and tossing it on the ground. “Just as well, gives us time to get our bearings.”
“Good idea.” Mordred agreed, and we all sat on the ground, huddled fairly close together for the warmth. Mathias pulled a compass out of his pocket, and they kicked aside sticks and leaf litter. Mordred figured that the Avalonian rebel camp was about two days’ walk to the north east, and the castle was west. In between were a handful of villages, all of them assumedly loyal to Arthur’s cause, so it was best to avoid them unless disguised.
With Avalon now surrounding the property back home and affecting the weather, the cold air of Camelot was uncomfortable and surprising. I felt chilled and shivered lightly when Xander set an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into him, and Bash pressed himself along the other side of me. I grinned devilishly for a moment, remembering the last time I was pressed between them, and that probably helped more than anything.
Bash chuckled gently, resting his head on my shoulder. “Now what are you thinking about?” He whispered coyly in my ear. I glanced between the two of them, trying to stifle my grin as a shudder of heat pulsed through me.
“Something.”
“Something, huh?” Xander’s gaze flicked momentarily to Bash’s over my head. “Something dirty?”
“Maybe,” I said playfully. Xander cackled evilly and leaned in closer to me, inadvertently brushing his stubbled cheek against mine. From behind us, Mathias coughed gently, and I glanced over my shoulder at him. He shifted uncomfortably and smiled with a light blush on his cheeks as I grinned playfully at him. “You can come over too, Septimus. They won’t bite you. I’ll kick their asses.”
“Oh, please do,” Xander quirked, and I gave him a light shove, sticking my tongue out at him.
“Ahem.” Mathias didn’t acknowledge my suggestion with any more than a subtle wink in my direction. He forced himself to look away as a loud shriek rang out, and Trystan’s eagle form shot down from the sky. He stopped just short of the ground where he hovered briefly and shifted into his human self. His fully clothed human self.
“Sweet, this thing works,” Trystan said with approval, holding out his wrist and tapping the leather band.
“So? What’d you find?” Bash inquired, still draping his hand in my lap casually.
“Lachlan of course,” Trystan said, laughing mischievously. “I think I about scared the shite out of him though, when I dove down. He may have screamed a little, I’ll never tell.”
Rhys snorted loudly at this, and I leaned past Xander to shoot him a stern glare. He sheepishly bit his lip and tried to hide behind Mordred.
“How does he look?” Mathias asked.
“Tired,” Trystan replied, setting himself down on his knees just a few paces away from me, reaching for his pack. He pulled out a canteen of water and took a long drink, licking the droplets of water left behind on his lips with the tip of his tongue. Now it was my turn to shift uncomfortably. Despite the fact that it was—what?—maybe thirty degrees out, I was suddenly on fire.
Trystan smirked at me, noticing my… discomfort. “Later, lassie.” He flashed me a flirty wink.
“By the gods… incorrigible flirt…” Mathias mumbled behind me. “How far do you think he is?”
“Closer than we thought,” Trystan said, shoving the canteen back in his pack, and standing. “Couple hours walk, just straight ahead.”
I breathed out in relief. “Oh, that’s good.”
“Aye, lassie. Told you we’d get him back.” Trystan’s jovial expression fell, and he stroked his fingers over his ginger beard, looking contemplative. “Towards the west I could see all the way across the kingdom. There’s a village at the edge, and then things just seem to… stop. It’s bizarre, I tell you.”
“You must have seen the Avalonian rebel village,” Mordred said. “Hidden beyond a thick forest of birch and pine?”
“Aye, that’s the one,” Trystan said, snapping his fingers in Mordred’s direction. “It’s a bit further than the palace is to us, but not an unreasonable walk I don’t think. Camelot is quite small after all.”
Rhys snorted a laugh. “Leave it to Arthur to exaggerate size again,” he quipped, nudging me. I choked a laugh into my hand, and Mordred looked momentarily disgusted.
“Ah, lighten up Morty,” Rhys replied, with a bright, smug grin, slugging him playfully in the leg.
“Did you see any patrols or anything?” Mathias inquired, and Trystan nodded.
“Aye, not many, but there are people combing outside the woods. No one inside that I could tell, so we still have cover for now,” Trystan replied. “Patrols aren’t all I saw, though. In the distance I saw an army. Red cloaks, silver armor. All lined up. I am not sure if they were just posturing or if they’re really ready for battle, but there was a lot of them.”
“More than likely just posturing,” Mordred supplied. “He likes to make them stand in formation and walk around the palace looking formidable. Trying to scare off any would-be attackers and give them precision practice as it were. Even though there’s basically no enemies here, my father just can’t kick that warlord mentality.”
“So, drills then?” Mathias suggested, and Mordred nodded in affirmation.
“Did you notice any weaponry? Cannons, the like?”
Trystan shook his head. “No, none of that. But I didn’t get a chance to look around the castle.”
“No he would have had them in front,” Mordred said with a sneer. “He is egotistical to say the least. He would be posturing.”
“I see. Well… at least we have an idea of what we face, now,” Bash said, with a shrug. He rose to his feet, offering me a hand. I clutched it in mine and he helped pull me to my feet, Xander just a pace behind us. He adjusted his pack, drew his sword and nodded towards the rest of us. “Come on, guys. Let’s get Lachlan back.”
Chapter Thirty
“Guys, this just occurred to me. Nimue is good at preying on our tendencies and weaknesses, right?” I mused aloud, about forty minutes into our trek into the woods. “What if this is a trap?”
Apparently Bash was best at navigating, so he was left to lead. Mathias stayed glued to me, keeping his hand clamped on mine, not budging or faltering even when our grip became sweaty.
Mordred and Rhys were behind us, with Xander nearby; he seemed to have the easiest time getting along with the quirky wizard, and Trystan flew over head in his eagle form to scout for any possible problems. The mood was relatively relaxed and hopeful as we traversed the woods… until I asked my question. I sort of felt like dashing around like that alien from Star Wars flailing around going, “It’s a trap! It’s a trap!” Something just didn’t sit right with me.
“Anything is possible,” Mathias said, squeezing my hand gently, offering me a slight s
mile from the corner of his mouth. “But even if it is, Avie, we’re more than prepared.”
“How?” I rose a brow at him skeptically.
Mathias slowly grinned devilishly. “I alone can take on hundreds of Arthur’s soldiers. We’d make a huge dent in their army before they even got one of us.”
“But,” Rhys protested, overhearing the conversation. “What if they get one of us?”
“That’s a big if, Rhys,” Bash said back to him over his shoulder, glancing at him fleetingly. “Even if they do, you’re all bad ass enough to hold your own until we get there, right?”
Rhys flicked his ponytail back over his shoulder, adjusted the collar of his thick sweatshirt, and tipped his gaze upward. “Of course we are, siphon. I just didn’t want to put you out or anything.” I snickered, shaking my head and flashed him an impish smile.
“Since when don’t you want anyone to ‘put out,' Rhys?” I challenged jokingly.
Xander let out a sharp laugh, quickly stifling it with his fist as I watched the wizard open his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“By the gods, the wizard is silent!” Mathias kidded, with a feigned expression of incredulity.
“Hmph. I’m not silent when it counts,” Rhys muttered in dismay quietly. Mordred smirked next to him, glancing at him fleetingly. Rhys grinned slightly and gave him a playful shove.
“Aww, so cute,” I crooned.
Rhys blushed severely—actually blushed. If his face turned any redder, he’d make tomatoes look pale.
“Stop, guys.” Bash rose a hand, halting us in our tracks suddenly. After traversing the thick woods, Bash slashing at downed branches and thick brush with his long, sharp sword, we came to a small clearing, barely big enough for all of us. “I think I hear something…”
Swallowing down a gulp of sudden nervousness, I gripped Mathias’ hand a bit tighter, and about jumped out of my skin when a gust of wind blasted through the trees. Trystan landed just in front of us, switching effortlessly to his sexy, ginger-haired self.
“Shit, Trys!” I scolded, swallowing down my heart that had lodged in my throat as he adjusted himself. And when I say adjusted I didn’t mean his shirt. “Don’t scare us like that!”