by Skye, Sariah
“We’ll go start looking for survivors,” Lachlan said, as Percival nodded.
Rhys’ upper body slumped over his lap, his long hair had fallen mostly out of his ponytail from grabbing it too hard, and he shook gently with despair. I reached out a hand and set it on the side of his arm. “Rhys…”
He shook his head quickly, waving me off. But I didn’t move.
“Such an idiot. I’m such an idiot!” Rhys exclaimed in frustration, slamming a fist that sparked with angry, red magic on the dirt ground. “You even said, ‘are you sure it’s not a trap’?” He snorted loudly, shaking his head.
“Yeah but still. I genuinely thought he was into you, too. I mean… fuck. Another member of my family betrayed me. Again.” I tried not to sound too bitter with my father nearby; I know he had also been manipulated and thought he was doing the right thing. Still, the betrayal of both my parents, my psycho uncle, and now my cousin stung.
Sniffling, Rhys scrubbed a hand over his face, wiping away his tears. He took a deep breath and looked up with newfound determination in his glassy, teary eyes. With full sincerity in his quivering tone, he declared, “You still have me.”
I smiled warmly. “Yeah, I do.”
“Avalon won’t let me betray you. The magic is just too ingrained. I’d hurt myself just as much,” Rhys said as I held out my hand. He took it and we helped each other off the ground… and I did something surprising. I threw my arms around him for a fully platonic hug, and was equally surprised as he held on tight. “It’s my fault this happened.”
I pulled back and narrowed my eyes. “No, it’s Nimue’s fault this happened. No one else’s. But… we can make it better.” I held up my hand, willing effortlessly for the healing, golden magic to appear in my fingertips. Rhys started to smile lightly and nodded.
Yes, Ava… we can make it better.
I flinched, hearing my grandmother’s voice in my head. Oh yay, another voice… I thought disdainfully.
This is what Avalon does… we heal, we send desperate souls along to the next realm with love if need be. You just need to call on us.
How do I do that? You mean you can really come here?
Yes, and no. You’re the anchor, it is like how you can hear us speak to you. We’re a part of you, you’re a part of us.
Sighing, I patted the side of Rhys arm in solidarity and we both stood.
“She’s talking to you isn’t she? Igraine?” Rhys inquired.
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
He chuckled lightly. “I was raised there remember? I know how it works…”
“Right… okay well then…” I grimaced as I glanced around the village at the destruction, the crying villagers, the frantic ones. If ever there was a time for peace and love, it was now.
All right, Grandma. Come do your thing.
As you wish, Priestess.
Chapter Forty-Two
“Un-fucking-believable.”
I was awed at the scene unfolding in the center of the village.
In a plume of white fog that serenely glowed, the silhouette of my grandmother appeared. She was nearly transparent, and I had no idea how this worked but I was glad to more or less see her.
“My god…” The magistrate from nearby had turned, the light catching his attention.
“What’s going on?” Trystan leaned in and whispered to me.
“Avalon. It’s here to help,” I replied simply.
“Help?” Trystan appeared confused, trading confused looks with the others.
“Of course. They appear on battlefields and help the soldiers pass on or bring them to heal. Damn…” Bash said in amazement.
“How do they get here though?” Trystan asked confused. “Why couldn’t they be here when the battle was ensuing?”
“If Ava had been here, we would have been. Ava—the priestess—is the anchor. We can only arrive when she summons us, and she has,” Igraine spoke with reverence from beside me. She was still somewhat transparent and incorporeal as she regarded him. “It’s like how we can heal others. Normally, we can only heal each other, but with Ava here, we now have the power to extend that to others.”
“Aye…” Trystan said, clearly confused as he shrugged. “Bloody hell I don’t get this magic stuff…”
“Me either and I’m at the center of it,” I replied with a short laugh, patting him on the arm.
The screaming and panic in the little village subsided, as everyone turned to see Igraine, my grandmother appear in full-visible form, surrounded by glowing, white mist. She was beautiful and serene and opened her arms wide in a welcoming gesture towards me. “Granddaughter.” She held out a hand and without hesitation I began to run to her.
Mathias promptly grabbed onto my arm, preventing me from budging. “Ava—what if it’s another trap?”
Igraine smiled and laughed gently. “You can come too, Protector.”
Mathias released a quiet, reluctant groan, but allowed me to drag him over to my grandmother. Or… her silhouette. I didn’t get it, honestly.
Her hand was still outstretched and the second I took it, the same glowing mist encapsulated me as well. “Go, my daughters, and do what you were meant to.” I gave her a strange look as she seemed to be talking to people that weren’t here.
My mouth dropped open as several other misty silhouettes appeared in various places, but all nearby someone in distress. I noticed Morgause appeared and immediately kneeled beside a young man who from here appeared barely alive, covered with blood, and breath ragged and wheezing. Morgause turned and beckoned me with her hand.
With Mathias in tow, I carefully strode through the town and joined her. My breath caught in my chest at the man on the ground. He had brown hair and rosy-toned skin underneath all the gore and blood, but couldn’t have been more than twenty at oldest. His features were bludgeoned and bruised—but he was alive. Without even thinking about it I fell to my knees and listened for that drumming in the back of my mind.
I am here for you, Priestess. Gabriella’s bright, smiling image appeared and I was instantly relieved and confident. I wasted no time hovering my hands over the worst of the man’s injuries—his chest—and the golden light illuminated my fingertips and poured into him. It was effortless suddenly, and all the worries I’d had about the state of my magic or my abilities? Gone. Because I had everyone behind me: Avalon, my guys, Rhys… everyone.
Bash was right. The sword was right. I just needed to trust them.
“Are… what are you?” the handsome young man managed to rasp out between hacking coughs and deep breaths. He still sounded bad, but at least he was speaking now.
Morgause reached out and touched the side of his face. The man’s expression immediately was fixed into one of absolute happiness and euphoria. “We are whatever you want us to be,” she spoke, her voice barely above an ethereal whisper.
Encouraged by his sudden smile, I took a deep breath and squinted my eyes, hearing Gabriella’s drumming in my mind increase, faster and louder, and more golden light poured into him. There was something about him; he was beautiful and innocent somehow, but wise and learned in his eyes. How I could tell by just viewing him for these past two minutes was beyond me, but something about him struck in my mind. I had no idea what it was. Perhaps it was just because he was so young. Maybe it was just because he was quite handsome, I didn’t know. I did as Morgause did and leaned in to touch his cheek. He moved his head into my touch, and smiled gently, taking a strong breath. Whatever I did, it was working… thank the gods.
“By the gods…” Mathias mumbled, dumbfounded as he stood next to me.
The man smiled widely and blinked quickly, like he was trying to focus on something before him, but his gaze wasn’t falling on anything in particular.
Then he took a final breath and relaxed into me as I held on to him. He was gone.
“What the—?” I uttered, freaked out as I scrambled back away, like I’d hurt him while refusing to let him drop to the ground. I let out a sh
riek and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him gently at first but when he didn’t respond, a bit harder. “No! Come on—no! You can’t—"
“No, Ava.” Morgause swiped a hand over his eyes and closed them carefully before clasping my knee. “He was already gone, but he was suffering. We just helped him pass peacefully, and without fear.”
“What… what will happen to him?” I stammered, turning my hand over from back to front, staring at it like I’d just strangled him to death and not tried to heal him.
“He will be reborn eventually, like we all are,” Morgause replied. “I know it’s hard, but it was necessary.” I nodded slowly, understanding but still feeling unsettled. I felt a pair of strong arms under my arms and Mathias lifted me to my feet and immediately wrapped himself around me. I yanked away from him, falling down to my knees again beside the young man.
“No… I just… I can’t. Not the first one I tried to heal…”
“Ava…” He pleaded, but I shook my head. I glanced around quickly, panicked, noticing Rhys had just finished healing an older woman. “Rhys! Now!”
He turned, noticed me waving and rushed over to me.
“Is he—?” He asked, eyes tracking to the young man on the ground.
“He’s gone, Merlin. Ava is having a hard time,” Morgause insisted.
I gave him a pleading look. Subtly, hoping no one could see, I mouthed, “freeze everything.”
He clearly got my meaning and snapped his fingers. Everything around him, I, and the departed man stopped moving.
“I can’t let him die, Rhys. I just can’t. Maybe if we both try to heal him…” I pleaded. Rhys set a hand on my shoulder.
“If he’s gone, he’s gone…”
“No… it can’t be. There has to be some way to bring him back,” I begged, clamping my hands on his arms and shaking him frantically, tears streaming down my cheeks.
He cocked a brow. “There’s only one person that could possibly save him, and she’s not here.”
“Who?” I asked, as he rose his brow higher, sneering severely. I knew who he meant.
“Morgaine.” He nodded once.
“How do I get her?”
“Ava… you can’t. I—”
“—how do I get her? She owes me!” I insisted. With a sigh, he shook his head.
“You just have to call her. She’s part of Avalon, much as I hate to admit it,” he groused, and I nodded, closing my eyes, I thought of my mother.
Morgaine! Morgaine, please talk to me!
This is a surprise. What does the venerable Priestess need of me? My mother’s voice entered my head.
There’s a guy, he’s young. I just… can’t let him go. I need to save him, Rhys said you know how.
She sighed, even in my head. What you ask is not easy, you realize that, Ava?
I don’t care!
I’ll be doing things you probably won’t agree with. Just so you realize.
Unless it’s taking another life—I don’t care!
All right then. And in a blink, my mother appeared, shrouded by the fog and mist associated with Avalon. Funnily enough she didn’t wear the typical robes of Avalon; she wore gray sweats and a slumpy white tee. She glanced down at herself and snorted.
Rhys looked her over and smirked bitterly. “Nice, glad you dressed for the occasion.”
“I wasn’t told my presence would be wanted so…” she said, with a shrug.
“I don’t care. How do we heal him?” I pleaded.
Morgaine smirked evilly. In a flash she drew a small, silver knife from her pocket, and grabbed my arm. Before I could say a word, she stabbed the tip along my forearm and dragged it up to my elbow. I cried out in pain, it was sharp and heated like a fire as my blood gushed out.
“What are you—” Rhys demanded, but she glared.
“Hush, wizard. Just doing what the priestess asked,” she spat back, and Rhys grumbled.
The cut was deep, and gushed blood. Morgaine pulled on my hand, jerked me down to my knees, and squeezed my arm until the blood streamed out in a long ribbon, covering his face, focusing on his mouth. I cringed, but she didn’t stop, and I didn’t make her, even though the large, gaping wound stung.
“There,” Morgaine said finally, shoving my arm back at me with force until I nearly stumbled.
Rhys let out a growl, glaring at her. “Why, I should—”
“Oh stop, Merlin. I know you can heal her,” Morgaine said, scoffing, waving him off.
“Yeah…” Rhys shook his head, gave me a sympathetic look, and clasped his hands over my throbbing arm, and I felt his hands warm and magic spilled out. Morgaine was tossing crystals down, sprinkling herbs over him from a linen sachet in her hand, and chanted over him quietly in Avalonian.
“There,” Rhys said, with a wry smile. “This guy better be worth it.”
“I just… I don’t know. Something about him…” I trailed off, watching my mother work. Everything around us was still frozen. “I just couldn’t lose my first person I tried to heal here. I just… can’t.”
Rhys rested his temple on my shoulder. “I get it, Ava. Just wish we didn’t have to resort to… Morgaine.” He spoke her name like it was bitter poison. Morgaine briefly gave him a snarl before stepping back.
“That’s all I can do. If it’s going to work, you’ll know in about thirty seconds. If not… well that’s all I can do. Try to heal him again,” Morgaine said, with a shrug. “I’d wait for you to show your appreciation but…”
I stepped forward, leaning over him. Begrudgingly, I glanced back at her over my shoulder. “Thank you… I think.”
“Always happy to serve Avalon,” my mother replied, bending at the waist and giving a mock bow.
“Oh stop,” Rhys shooed her away. “We’ll call you again if we need anything else rotten and underhanded.”
“I do hope so,” she replied, with a laugh. The fog surrounding her brightened and grew thicker before she faded away and the fog dispersed.
“Going to unfreeze everyone, then we can try to heal him again,” Rhys muttered to me, kneeling down at my side, waving his hand over his face to wipe away the fresh, extra blood—my blood. I gave a silent nod and braced myself for both the fallout when Mathias realized what happened, and to unleash my healing magic on the poor young guy below.
Rhys blinked his eyes and we joined the chaos around us. Mathias appeared confused for a moment, but Rhys nudged me. I didn’t need any instruction, I let the magic pour from my hands, as did Rhys, and we encompassed him in a mass of bright, golden light.
“Ava—what are you—?” Mathias demanded in a panic, when the young man suddenly took in a deep, gasping breath. Rhys and I quickly jumped back as he sat up, eyes wide open, gulping in deep breaths of air.
Morgause fell to her knees beside him, helping prop him up. She looked at me curiously, but I shrugged innocently.
“You’re okay now,” Morgause muttered, patting his back. “The priestess healed you, I think you’re going to be fine.”
“She… what?” He stammered, his light-hazel eyes, the same shade as burnished gold danced around in confusion, before landing on me. “You…”
A sense of relief washed over me, and I patted his shoulder. “I think you’ll be okay now.”
“Merlin!” Percival was nearby, waving him over to tend to another man, considerably older, who was writhing on the ground.
In a flash, Rhys blinked out and was tending to the next person.
Mathias was confused visibly confused as Morgause helped the young man to his feet. Mathias took me by the shoulders and lifted me to my feet, drawing me into his arms. If he thought anything was off, he didn’t voice it. “You did well, beautiful girl,” he said softly, stroking the side of my arm and resting his cheek on the top of my head. I tilted back and gazed up into his warm brown eyes, immediately feeling comforted.
A short distance away, Igraine was tending to an older man, and there was a wrack of sobs from his now widow when he was presumed p
assed on. One of the other witches set a comforting arm around her shoulders, letting her sob when Igraine pulled away. I had half a mind to step forward, and call for Morgaine again when the sword buzzed at my wrist.
Any more is too risky, Priestess, the sword warned in my head. You need to conserve magic…
Yeah yeah… I admitted reluctantly.
Mathias was already in motion. He snapped his fingers, instantly catching the attention of the other guys and Lachlan, who had been assisting the other witches by bravely entering smoldering buildings and retrieving people trapped inside either by destruction or by fear. Bash was nearest so he reached us first. He seemed to be avoiding the fiery buildings even with Rhys’ magic used on him, so he was grateful for the distraction.
“Stay with Ava. We’ll set up a safe place to take the fallen.” Bash nodded in agreement and he slipped his arm through mine while Mathias respectfully took the man in his arms. He didn’t flinch at the sight or smell of death or blood, and joined the magistrate who instructed him on an appropriate place outside the village to bring him. The magistrate called out to a middle aged woman who’d been walking around trying to tend to everyone she could, and she nodded, darting off.
“How are you, babe?” Bash asked me, bringing me back to his attention.
“Oh. Okay. I’ll be fine,” I replied unconvincingly.
Bash arched his brow in disbelief. “Are you sure?”
“What choice do I have, Bash?” I asked him, and he sighed.
“I know.” He leaned in and tenderly kissed my cheek.
“Ava!” Someone called, and I spun on my heels. Rhys was assisting another of the witches at an older woman’s side, and he waved wildly for me. I took Bash by the hand and sprung into action without hesitance and between Rhys and I we attempted to save her life.
Chapter Forty-Three
“Fuck.”
Feeling utterly worn out, I groaned, feeling it in my tired muscles as I leaned back against a stone building near the south edge of the village, and slid down it until I sat flat on my backside. Bash plopped down next to me, leaning his head on my shoulder and grumbling an affirmation at me.