by Skye, Sariah
“It’s really not important, Rhys,” Bash insisted, but Rhys made a “shushing” motion at him. He snapped his fingers as if suddenly having a brilliant idea. “Ah-ha.” He rubbed his hands together and opened them in the direction of the rebels. Instantly, in a wave-like motion, all the rebels tattered tabards and flags draped over the horses switched out into fresh, bright new ones; a faint, misty gray, surrounded with a bright purple border, and a golden sword emblazoned with a purple jewel in its hilt; I assumed it was Excalibur. The rebels looked briefly confused as they glanced down at themselves and their new attire.
“Now, us.” Rhys clapped his hands once more and pushed them outwards, a quick gust of light wind blowing over the five of us. The horses saddle blankets now appeared fresh and clean with the new icon, and the guys’ shirts were now adorned with the brightly colored seal. “Not enough…” Rhys muttered in thought.
“Rhys, come on… it’s not a big—” I began, but he snapped his fingers once more, and a drapey white cloak, much like the ones the witches would wear on Avalon, appeared around my shoulders and trailed down at my sides. The magic spun and twisted around me, from head to toe, supplying a warm, consoling feeling. Rhys opened his hands towards himself, and the same magic appeared; the same white cloak with the seal on the back and a flag on a golden pole hovered at his side with the Avalon seal. No one carried it—it floated—at his horse’s side.
“There.” He wiped his hands together, looking pleased with himself. “That’s better.”
Mathias rolled his eyes as he effortlessly mounted his horse. “Whatever makes you feel better, wizard.” Bash and Xander did the same, and Mathias held out a hand for me.
“Uh, I’d never balk at new clothing. Or… magically altered clothing. Hello?” Rhys clicked his tongue at him scornfully. With another wave of his hand I blinked out, and reappeared with a plop on the horse’s back, my back pressed against Mathias as he wielded the new velvet purple reins.
“Are we ready to do this?” Trystan asked impatiently, and the four of them looked at me and nodded.
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
Trystan shifted into his eagle and flew high into the sky with a loud shriek, and that must have been the signal for the rebels to go, because they bustled into action with yells and cheers, disappearing into the woods or climbing up slight hills to approach the palace from the sides.
Mathias tightened one arm around me, holding me close, and flicked the reins. The horse began to trot, keeping pace just behind Bash’s, Rhys fell in next to us, and Xander brought up the rear. We kept a steady pace through a gently worn path of the woods that I knew headed directly for the front doors of the castle.
Despite the constant up-and-down of the ride and the fact that my ass slapped against the hard leather saddle repeatedly, it wasn’t an unpleasant ride. In fact, it was quite the opposite; we could be going on a leisurely ride together without a care in the world, not like we were about to liberate an entire kingdom.
“This feels very anti-climactic,” I observed out loud. We’d been generally silent the entire time, save for the hoofbeats and nickers of the horses and a few quick commands from the guys. My voice seemed to startle everyone.
“I’m not sure what you were expecting, Ava,” Mathias asked in an amused tone.
I shrugged against him. “Not sure. Lines of people walking in solidarity, planes flying over head… something.”
Mathias laugh rumbled his chest, vibrating against my spine. It was a pleasant sound and I shivered lightly; his laugh was comforting. “We’re trying to be incognito, Ava. Fighter planes in formation and long lines of soldiers would only attract attention. Especially because they don’t exist here, yet.”
“Yeah…”
“War is nothing like you see on TV. Movies seem to leave out all the waiting, hiding, spying… all that sort of thing, for effect,” Xander explained from behind us. “Actual war, aside from the fighting, can be quite boring.”
“Which is good.” Bash’s horse slowed slightly to allow him to be part of the conversation. “Because if it was constant, no one would survive.”
“Sometimes that still happens, though…” Mathias said quietly, and I sighed at his sadness.
I placed my hand on his thigh that was tucked on the side of me and turned over my shoulder. “You must have seen a lot of shit, hun. I’m sorry for that.”
He smiled gently, leaning in to brush his lips over my temple. “Having you here makes it better. But I’m not eager to witness the amount of loss and blood that is about to encounter.”
“Me either,” I agreed quietly. Sighing, I knew we had still about thirty minutes or so of riding, so I leaned back and relaxed against the expanse of Mathias’ chest, comforting by the sound of his heart… hoping it wasn’t the last time I heard it.
“Ava?”
With a gasp, I opened my eyes and squirmed against Mathias.
“You okay?” He asked, concerned.
“Uh... yeah. Just surprised I fell asleep,” I said, laughing uncomfortably.
“Me too. But… Ava?”
“Hmm?” I’d noticed the tree line grew sparser, and now…
“We’re here.” Peering in the distance, I noticed the large palace sprawled out before us. There was no sign of the rebels, but I knew they must be close by. I glanced up, noticing Trystan was hovering overhead, high in the sky, watching everything.
“You ready for this, Priestess?” Rhys asked, his face sober and serious.
I nodded once, and with relative grace, I slid off the horse. I winced of course at the pain but I shrugged it off for the time being. “I’m ready. Now what?”
“Now? We wait for the signal,” Bash replied, dismounting himself and landing nearby me. He slipped his hand in mine and I looked down at my wrist, the comforting sight of the blade wrapped around there made me smile.
We got this.
“Nope. No more waiting. I am done.” And despite the guys’ protests, I stormed off through the remainder of the woods, eager to bring this day to a close.
Chapter Forty-Six
Stubbornly, I grabbed the blade off my wrist, grinning as it shifted into its full form. It probably willed me with a lot of self-confidence I shouldn’t have, considering my abilities or lack thereof but I was impatient.
The element of surprise works with you. They have no idea we’re all here, the sword’s “voice” echoed in my mind.
“Works for me,” I muttered.
“Ava? Dammit what are you—?” Mathias demanded angrily, and with a wide gesture I summoned my invisibility and disappeared from sight.
“Just trust her!” Rhys called after him, and I watched as he reappeared right next to me. His hand thrust out behind him, and Mathias was halted in his tracks; Bash and Xander weren’t far behind, frozen. Rhys nodded his head to the side, and I followed the gesture with my eyes. “Two guards. Think you can take them?”
I shook my head. “Don’t need to.” I allowed my magic to drop, and held the sword before me, raising it high. It shimmered brightly, catching the afternoon sun, and the two guards at the front gate held their armored hands over their eyes, trying to see what was causing the commotion. “Hey!” I called out, ungraciously. From next to me, Rhys opened his hand, revealing a bright ball of the same golden magic as Excalibur. The two guards were startled by our presence and scrambled to draw their swords. Rhys laughed, and with a flick of his empty hand, rendered them immobile and wide-eyed.
“Who are you? Who goes there?” One of the guards demanded. Okay so apparently they could still talk.
“I am Ava du Lac,” I replied, using Guinevere’s name for me, hoping it would register in their minds. It clearly did, because they appeared a mix of horrified and confused. “Priestess of Avalon. I’m here on behalf of my grandmother, Igraine, and all the witches who came before her!” I wasn’t exactly sure where the posturing came from, but I had a feeling it was mostly the sword and his boastful nature.
One of the g
uards snickered; a weaselly, pointy-faced man. Rhys began to move his hand, but I set a hand on his arm, shaking my head. He relented and let me do my thing.
“And what do you want, priestess?” The other asked mockingly.
I grinned at him. “Either Arthur surrenders to Avalon or we come in and take him down.”
Even though the rest of their bodies couldn’t move, they managed to let out long, mocking laughs. “You and who else? A sorcerer and a single woman aren’t all that imposing, I’m afraid. So you’ll have to do better than that.”
I snickered. “Rhys?” I turned to the wizard. With a snap of his fingers, the guys were released. Mathias was by me in a heartbeat, mace close by his side, and he glared furiously. Bash wasn’t far behind, and Xander held his katana in one hand, and lightning dripped from the other.
“I urge you to reconsider your position, guard,” Mathias growled. I eyed him in my peripheral vision, and he stood a bit taller and glowered at them. The guards appeared briefly worried. “I promise you, this woman is more formidable than she appears.”
A shriek echoed through the sky, and Trystan dove down, his wings outstretched until he nearly crashed into the ground. The two guards balked as Trystan shifted effortlessly into his humanoid self. One of the guards cursed in surprise as Bash unsheathed a long, jagged sword and tossed it to him.
“Everyone is in place,” Trystan instructed, with a triumphant grin as he spoke; his eyes never leaving the guards for a second.
“Good,” I replied.
The two guards looked upon themselves, confused.
“We have countless rebels ready to fight, but we prefer not to have that happen,” I said. “We prefer Arthur stand down, and we go after Nimue together.”
“Nimue?” One of the guards asked.
“The shadow fae. Surely you’ve noticed her?” Rhys inquired, and they both shook their heads.
“Fine. Let us aside and we guarantee Arthur’s safety if you allow him to come with us. He is ill and needs help,” I insisted, and one of the knights laughed.
“You are daft, woman,” he barked, while the other snickered. “I just saw him this morn; he is just fine.”
I sighed. “Just let us in, we can help.”
“Are we just supposed to take the word of some foolish woman—the daughter of a traitor—and a handful of madmen?” One guard shook his head and drew his sword. The guys beside me immediately went on high alert.
Rhys scoffed, rolling his eyes and smirked at me. “Mad men? Oh, they have no idea who they’re up against!” Rhys let out a peal of taunting, musical laughter that only served to taunt the two guards further. One of them glowered and growled, and began to charge for him.
With an impudent snort, Rhys flicked his hand and he was halted in his tracks. The other guard attempted to assist but Rhys tossed his magic at him, resulting in the same.
“Rhys…” Mathias warned, but Rhys tossed a mean glare at the gladiator.
“No, Mathias. We’re done with this bullshit. They need to know exactly what they face,” Rhys said with menace, and he blinked off his horse and reappeared in front of the first guard who raised his weapon. He shot a blast of orange magic at it, and the blade dissolved into a plume of silver dust, carried off in the breeze. The guard’s eyes widened as Rhys stood before them, his hand waving around his head and he seemed to grow in posture until he towered over the knight. “I am Merlin. You may have heard of me. Banished by your damn king because I was too powerful, and I was a threat to his reign. Thing is, I watched the beginning of his change. I didn’t know at the time but he was being manipulated by a dark force. That same dark force was pretending to be a noble Avalonian witch and when she was found? She was casted aside when she threatened to take the magic for herself. That’s part of why Avalon was spirited away, so she couldn’t get to it. The witches—Ava’s great-great grandmother and great-grandmother and great-aunts—gave their lives to perform the spell to keep Avalon safe, away from Arthur. It was a spell that I helped design only I trusted one of them too much. You know who that witch was, gentlemen?”
The guard still couldn’t move, but his eyes slid back and forth gently, indicating no, he did not.
“Nimue. Nimue locked me away in the same vessel, and Morgaine stole it away and used it for her own purposes. Satisfied Morgaine posed no risk, and I was out of the way, Nimue went off to do the next best thing: corrupt Arthur. And she succeeded too, and she will not rest until this entire kingdom has fallen, and Earth as well,” Rhys spoke in a serious tone that concerned even me, it was such a departure for the impish wizard.
Bash stepped forward, nodding. “He’s right. We think that Nimue plans to take this kingdom and turn it into her own, a place for her shadow brethren to rest, and open portals on earth to feed on humanity. We can’t let that happen.”
“Let me ask,” I said, lowering the sword slightly and stepping in between Bash and Xander who had taken my free hand and walked with me. “Despite how it happened, do you think a woman carrying a child deserves to die? To me there isn’t anything more monstrous than that. We can help him turn to his real self again. I know he isn’t this evil—really.”
“Please,” Mathias continued. “We do not want any loss of life; we just want to fix what’s broken.”
The frozen guard glanced between him, Rhys and I. You could see the apprehension in his eyes. “I serve my king and king alone. I cannot do what you ask.”
I dropped the sword at my side and sighed. I set a hand on Rhys’ shoulder. “I was afraid of that. Rhys? Do it.”
Rhys stepped back and nodded once. He clapped his hands together and shoved them up toward the sky, shots of light shooting form them and lighting the sky: it was the signal for the armies to advance.
“I wish it didn’t have to be this way, but so be it,” I said, my tone regretful and quiet. Rhys released his hold on the two of them, and they began to charge for us when Lachlan and Percival appeared over the hill with their army behind him.
Someone shouted “Charge” and the rebels went running, weapons in hand, and began to approach the castle.
“Stop!”
The large gate opened with a loud metallic creak, and Arthur emerged, with no guards nearby, hands raised. “Stop!” With a quick flick of his head, the two gate guards stood back, dropping their weapons, and Arthur tentatively stepped toward me. Mathias set a hand on my shoulder, glaring down at him, and Xander never released my hand.
“Daughter of Lancelot. We have much to discuss.” His icy eyes narrowed at me, and I sucked in a deep breath, puffing out my chest and stared up at him from over my nose.
“Yes, uncle. We do.”
“We will discuss this in the war room. Agreed? I shall not order my soldiers to fight unless you do. Are we agreed upon this?” Arthur inquired, and I glanced between the guys and they nodded.
“Agreed.”
“Then… please follow me. And please, let my old friend Lancelot join us,” Arthur instructed. Mathias motioned at him, and Lachlan carefully traipsed down the hill to join us before the gate.
“Hello again, Arthur,” Lachlan said, staring down his nose at his former friend. “How is Nimue?”
“Notably missing, I am afraid,” Arthur replied, and I balked, surprised. He gave a brief sneer towards Lachlan. “It seems we are often sharing women. This really must stop.”
“I couldn’t fucking agree more,” my father replied in a low mutter. Arthur ignored him, motioning in through the gate. “Please, come. As long as you draw no weapon, I personally assure your safety while we discuss.”
“Fair enough.” And, feeling much like I was a prisoner walking to his execution, I followed Arthur and the guys, through lines of Camelot soldiers positioned in strategic places around the palace walls, Lachlan bringing up the rear.
It didn’t appear that Arthur was waiting behind idly after all.
Chapter Forty-Seven
“Sit.”
There were no niceties in Arthur’s
tone as we entered the war room. The guys seemed secretly awed the moment we entered. It made sense; they’d lived with these legends for hundreds of years. No one besides Mathias would have ever of gotten a chance to see this castle, frozen in time for hundreds of years before they ever existed.
I was already acquainted with the room of course, so for me it was no big deal.
But the group of knights sitting around the table, looking imposing and official? That did sort of strike me as a big deal. I knew the table could expand and retract depending upon need, and today it was stretched out quite larger than I remembered. All except for the corner that had broken off and was now resting in my bedroom, that remained the same. And that was the spot I chose to sit at; several new chairs appeared for each one of us as we approached the table to sit.
The knights all sat around the table, appearing expressionless as they waited commands from their king. None of them were familiar at all aside from Bedivere, and his gaze didn’t waver as I entered the room. He kept his cover and kept it well. He sat directly to Arthur’s left as the king approached, and we all sat at the opposite end; Mathias on one side of me, Xander on the other, and Trystan and Bash next to Xander.
Rhys of course wasn’t for conventional seating and blinked out and re-appeared on top of the table, startling many of the knights who sat before it. “Ah, been a while since I’ve seen this thing. It’s held up quite well, considering how many times I fu—” the wizard began, and I reached out and grabbed his shoulder, stifling a grin and shaking my head.
“Ah, Merlin. There’s that sense of humor this kingdom has missed so much,” Arthur offered, politely snide.
“Awww, Arthur. I didn’t know you cared.” Rhys pretended to puff out his lip in sympathy as he stretched back, resting on his elbows. He caught the eye of a brown-haired, blue-eyed knight nearby and flashed him an electric wink. The knight’s cheeks flushed and flustered, he turned away, looking at anything but the crazy wizard sitting on the table. Trystan sniggered and hid his laugh behind his hand. “Don’t get jealous, big boy. Plenty for you, always,” Rhys quipped.