Invincible: The Curse of Avalon #4

by Skye, Sariah

  “What did he say?” I asked quietly.

  “He said… ‘You’ll need this more than I, I think, even though a part of me will regret it later, it’s for my own good.’” Lachlan lifted his free hand, setting it on the side of Galahad’s rough cheek. “I felt dizzy shortly after finding you and woke up a short time later. Your body was gone.”

  “I was in the sword. I was with you the whole time, I just couldn’t emerge. Efa knew, father—she knew what was going to happen. It would only take a product of Avalon and Camelot to unleash the sword to bring the two together,” Galahad said, and that made me arch my brow.

  “Wait wait… I’m not of Camelot!” I protested.

  “Actually, Avalon, you are. As a descendant of the Pendragon family and a Round Table night, and Morgaine’s daughter and priestess of Avalon… yes, you are essentially both,” Mordred answered, regarding Galahad carefully. “It is good to know you; I’ve heard many stories of your adventures.”

  “I am so happy you’re alive…” My father’s eyes began to tear up, jaw quivering as he finally crashed into my brother with a hug. I looked on with a smile, and a certain warmth in my heart despite a wave of exhaustion that threatened to overtake me. Galahad beckoned to me with a wave, and I looked up at the guys in turn, who gave me smiles and urged me forward until I was encompassed in an emotional embrace with both of them.

  “How is it possible? I have both my children with me? Alive and well?” Lachlan sputtered, setting his hands on both of our cheeks, looking between the two of us with wide smiles.

  “Come on, Dad…” I said, flicking a grin at each of my guys, winking at Xander specifically. “What have I told you? Don’t underestimate me, huh?”

  Lachlan snorted a laugh. “I never did, but I certainly never will.”

  “Good.”

  “So… this is over. This is really over?” Bash asked in a small voice. I felt his shaky arm around my waist as he leaned into me.

  “Yeah, babe. It’s over.” I nudged my brother with a smirk, after kissing Bash lightly on the jaw. “We can go home now. All of us.”

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  We couldn’t just up and go home, though. The kingdom was in shambles, after what Nimue had put it through. Arthur was only barely coherent, and there was little order.

  After the events in the throne room, and the eventual assassination of Nimue, we walked the palace corridors in confusion and fatigue, allowing it to finally sink in:

  It was over. Nimue was gone.

  The reality of what had ensued was all over the battlefield. Despite Avalon’s best efforts, still quite a few people fell. I had little energy to heal anyone else, and anyone left who had a snowball’s chance in hell in surviving was spirited away to Avalon for the witches to work on. Neither Rhys nor I had the energy to do it.

  It took a full day to clear the field of the lost rebels and fighters from both sides, but when we had, borders had fallen—walls broken, and everyone worked together. A mass funeral pyre was lit, and with Arthur still out of commission, Mordred was left to perform the brief service. We—the guys, Galahad, Lachlan and Guinevere and Rhys—looked on with heavy sadness. We were exhausted, covered with blood, and fell asleep that night in the palace with somber dispositions. Needless to say, there was no fuckery had by any of us; not as a group, not as a threesome, not at all. But we did collapse into the same bed together, falling asleep instantly.

  All in all around a hundred were lost, including Sir Gaiwan. It was a terrible tragedy.

  There were good things to come out of it, though, besides the liberation of the kingdom. Like the reunion of Galahad with the knights of the Round Table. Which is what brought us to right now, gathered around the Round Table itself.

  The mood was generally somber, but it needed to be done because I wanted to go home.

  “Priestess, we cannot thank you enough for everything you have done,” Sir Percival stated, with a polite incline of his head. “Without you, everything could have been so much worse. Without your Protector’s potion, I fear many more of us would have been lost.” He sighed, giving a fleeting glance to the empty chair that once belonged to Sir Gaiwan.

  “And thank you for returning to us our champion,” Sir Bedivere said, with reverence motioning towards my brother. He had cleaned up and was fresh, wearing the tabard with the insignia that Rhys had “created” on the battle field.

  I smiled awkwardly, unsure of what to do with the reverence. “I’m glad we could help.”

  “How does it feel, old friend, to have both your children with you?” Bedivere asked, patting Lachlan on the back with a bright grin on his face. He was quite damned handsome now, without the singed armor and cleaned up. He easily could have given Idris Elba a fast run for his money.

  “Better than anything I could ever imagine,” Lachlan replied, glancing between Galahad and I with a wide smile.

  “What will happen to your kingdom now?” Bash asked. I sat in between him and Xander at the head of the table, with Galahad on Bash’s left and Lachlan on Xander’s right.

  “It all depends if Arthur is able to be healed all the way,” Percival replied, with a frown. “Though, given everything, I am not sure if the people will trust him again.”

  “I’m not sure I trust him again,” Bedivere commented bitterly. “Prince Mordred, are you sure you will not stay with us?”

  Mordred had been pacing the length of the room, much like I’d seen his father do a handful of times. He paused and turned on his heels to regard his friend. “For a time, I will. But this is no longer my home. I’m afraid that, even with the liberation, I will not be accepted here truly for me. There will be resentment because of my mother, and resentment for who I am. I believe it is truly better if I return to Earth—to Avalon.”

  “You’re welcome with us always, Morty,” I replied, flicking my gaze in both directions to see if Xander or Bash would argue. They wouldn’t, of course.

  “Is there any word on Arthur yet?” One of the knights asked, and I looked between Lachlan and the guys, and shook my head.

  “Not yet,” I answered. “We brought Igraine, Morgause, and Morgaine over, and with Rhys’ and Mordred’s help and Bash’s alchemy work we think there is a good chance he will be okay, but time will only tell.”

  “It is bitter, dark magic,” Bash said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat at the very mere mention of it. Nervously, he reached around to rub at his neck, shaking his head. I set my hand on his leg, giving him a little grin. “Igraine was hopeful though.”

  “Over the next few weeks, after some rest, Merlin and I can keep coming back for boosts,” I continued, “since time moves so much faster there, only a few days will have gone by for you.”

  “Just don’t overdo it, dearest,” Xander said, clutching my free hand in his, threading our fingers and bringing it to his lips, brushing them over the knuckles. The stare he gave me was subtle, but the heat in his eyes was apparent to me at least. I squirmed uncomfortably in the hard chair, feeling a surge of lust shoot straight through me. Bash nudged me from the next seat, smirking.

  “I won’t but I’m ready to go home,” I replied, smirking at the both of them.

  “How are the rest of the villages faring?” Bash asked directly of Percival.

  “As well as to be expected. We’re all in a state of mourning but it could be so much worse,” he explained. “But, with Avalon and Camelot working together, we have hope everything will be just fine.”

  “Now that the portals are open, I don’t believe they should be closed. Ever,” I said, looking to my father, and then to Percival and Bedivere.

  “No, we don’t believe so either. It is how it was always intended to be, Avalon and Camelot together for the greater good,” Bedivere replied.

  “Good news everyone!”

  All of the knights jumped as Rhys appeared on the center of the table—literally on the table in a puff of smoke. I just snickered into my hand, and my father rolled his eyes.

&nb
sp; “Good to see you haven’t changed a damned bit, Merlin,” Galahad said, with a smirk, shaking his head.

  “Hey, I’m nothing if not consistent,” Rhys replied flippantly. He glanced about the room, totally ignoring the fact that the knights were still shocked by his sudden presence, and his gaze landed upon Mordred briefly. They exchanged a brief smile before Mordred promptly looked away. Rhys pasted a wide smile on his face. “Priestess,” he said, with a grin in my direction, “you’ll be pleased to know I think that Arthur’s recovery is in progress and things look well. We’ve done all we can for now to purge him of the Nimue shadow shit. We will have to return when we are energized to finish it off, it will take some time.”

  The knights suddenly stood, when Arthur appeared in the massive entry way, being assisted by Mathias and Trystan; Morgaine, Igraine, and Morgause were in tow just behind them.

  “Your majesty…” Bedivere was the first to speak, bowing his head in reverence.

  Bash, Xander, and I took no attempt to revere Arthur as he walked in carefully. Mathias walked him to the main seat at the head of the table next to me, and Trystan pulled it out for him.

  “Please, I do not deserve your reverence,” Arthur insisted. Mathias and Trystan moved to stand behind me, and the witches stood nearby. Igraine and Morgause kept quiet, but Morgaine snorted an amused laugh.

  “You’ve really let this place go, brother dear,” she retorted, glancing around with a gentle sneer.

  “I have been otherwise preoccupied,” he replied through gritted teeth. Arthur appeared pale, and weak, with purple pooling under his eyes and he looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. But some brightness returned to him and color on his lips, and he feigned a smile in direction of the knights. “Still… I need to extend my apologies to all of you. I betrayed your trust, betrayed the very doctrine of which our kingdom stands. As such, I wish to stand down as king, and name—”

  “—Father I have already made my intentions clear. I do not want it. I intend to return to Avalon. I will assist wherever possible, but it’s clear my home is not here. It’s in Avalon, it is where I feel I will be accepted better,” Mordred replied, and Arthur’s mouth pressed into a frown.

  “Oh stop the dramatics,” Rhys said, rolling his eyes. “Arthur you’re just fine. You will be anyway. There is no reason you cannot continue to rule this…” Rhys looked about, with a snide frown, “…wonderful kingdom.”

  “As always, thanks for your blunt words, Merlin,” Arthur replied dryly. “Still, I do not find myself suitable. If I was able to…” He shuddered, setting both of his hands on the armrests, leaning back with a troubled sigh.

  “Your majesty, we will be here for you until you are well,” Bedivere spoke in solidarity, and everyone else echoed.

  “What about forming a government?” Bash suggested. “Where not one person has total rule of everything, decisions must be made as a group?”

  Arthur’s mouth pressed into a frown. “Is this how Earth is ruled?”

  “It is how a lot of it is, yes,” Mathias answered. “in all my years of life, I have seen it to be the most effective.”

  Arthur nodded slowly. “It sounds… wise. To prevent atrocities like this happening again. Will you and your… Protectors guide us?”

  I glanced upon the guys, smirking. “Yeah, we’ll be here. That’s what Avalon is for, right?”

  “I behaved… horribly. I do not have the words to apologize enough,” Arthur said, gaze downcast and sullen. He turned to Lachlan, still frowning. “What of Lady Guinevere?”

  “She is well, assisting the villages in recovery and healing along with the rest of the villagers of Avalonia,” Lachlan said. He gave me a grin. “It is what the village is now calling itself now that they are no longer secret. So many of the young women—and men—are eager to visit Avalon and learn its ways and secrets.”

  Laughing awkwardly, I forced a smile. Mathias’ eyes widened largely, his hands flying into his hair as he started grumbling about everyone needing to get jobs.

  “What of you Lancelot? Galahad? Will you take your spots at the table? Or return back to Avalon?” Arthur inquired.

  “I will be wherever my son and daughter choose as home. If I have to go back and forth between realms, so be it,” Lachlan replied.

  “I haven’t decided yet. I’d like to get to know my sister outside of just being a piece of metal and taking over her mind,” Galahad replied with a wry grin. “Everything I have seen of the modern world is… intriguing. I would like to see more, I think.”

  Arthur nodded slowly, sighing lengthily. “I understand. Just know there is a space at the table for all of you—for everyone. It is how it should be.”

  “What will become of Avalon?” Percival piped up.

  “It will remain where it is, it cannot be moved,” Morgaine spoke.

  “It’s a place of safety and hope,” Igraine interjected.

  “We will do what we’ve always done. Take in those who need us,” Bash said confidently.

  “What will you do now, Priestess?” Bedivere asked.

  “Home,” I said quickly, without skipping a beat. “I want to go home.”

  That’s just what we did. There was little else to be done in the kingdom, and we’d return. Arthur and the knights knew where to find us if needed.

  With all Percival and Bedivere had done, with Mordred’s help, we attuned them both specifically to the Round Table section in my bedroom. They could contact us at any time if something happened with Arthur, or shadow fae re-emerged.

  There was only one little matter left to take care of.

  “Oh thank god—home sweet fucking home!” I cried out, falling to my knees as we crossed the portal back into Avalon—back home to the real world, with ibuprofen and no horses to ride and running water. And Charmin. Lots and lots of Charmin.

  “Och, luv, if you wanna get down on your knees, I’ve got something you can do down there,” Trystan smirked, crossing his arms over his wide chest in amusement. He and Xander crossed first, Lachlan, Galahad, and Guinevere next, and myself; Mathias and Bash brought up the rear.

  Mordred and Rhys were to stay behind for a short time and see the kingdom in its transition to more of a democracy instead of a monarchy. We all agreed it was better that way. What happened to Arthur with Nimue and the army would never happen again.

  “What do you plan to do with that?” Mathias asked, kicking at the sword of Excalibur that was sheathed at my side. Without the enchantment of having Galahad locked in it, it seemed most of the magic had gone out of it. It still had dragonmetal properties, but it could no longer morph and twist shape. I still felt a power in it, but not like before.

  “I’m not sure,” I glanced up at Galahad with question. “If anything it should be up to him, I think, since he was stuck in it for so long.”

  Galahad chuckled, waving a hand. “It’s little more than a metal blade to me now. Do with it what you will.”

  Xander let out an incredulous noise. “Are you all kidding? This is the most famous weapon of all time? We can’t just like… let it be a wall hanging or something!”

  “I agree, it’s still a dangerous piece of weaponry if it were to fall in the wrong hands. Who knows what other kind of magic is in there, lurking about somewhere?” Bash suggested, and I frowned.

  “Well…” I said, glancing around the small cave at the end of the property that had formed to hold the portal for entrance to Camelot; that held the tablet that opened it. I grinned widely. “I’ve got an idea.”

  “What are you thinking, Ava?” Lachlan asked, intrigued.

  I let my gaze fall over to the tablet, catching the eyes of each of my guys. Mathias was clueless—as were Trystan and Xander—but Bash got my meaning. He snorted a laugh.

  “Oh god… if you’re thinking what I’m thinking…”

  “—I am,” I replied, as he took my hand and helped me to my feet.

  “Let’s do it.”

  With determination, we stalked through th
e woods, over the little bridge that covered the small stream that wound through the property now passed the cottages and the friendly greetings of the witches who watched us walk through. Mathias carried most of the gear that remained—most of it we left back in Avalonia, figuring they could use it more than we needed it—but he was hot on Bash’s and my heels.

  “What are you thinking, lass?” Trystan asked curiously, when we stopped at the Kensington runestone tablet that was permanently ingrained with the landscape. We couldn’t move it if we tried.

  My gaze flicked over at Bash, who nodded with a smirk.

  “What are you doing?” Galahad asked, but my father laughed, slapping a palm over his face.

  “I know what she’s doing…”

  “Just making a legend come true,” I said, with a wink. Standing before the stone, I waved my hand over it.

  “Stone, I need a safe space to keep this sword,” I spoke in Avalonian, and just I figured, a spell appeared, twisting in golden script and floating about the ancient, carved ruins. I laughed to myself, knowing that without Rhys here no one could understand but me what it said—the witches could—but they only looked on with interest from the interest.

  Basically, the stone said exactly what I thought it would, and I did just that.

  Grabbing Excalibur by the hilt, I lifted it with a little less finesse than I would have when it was inhabited by Galahad—

  and plunged the blade into the spelled-stone, which de-materialized just long enough to accept the blade before twisting and hardening back into its stone form, leaving the blade trapped in for eternity. Maybe.

  “Oh shit, you didn’t…” Xander laughed loudly.

  “You bet I did.” I winked at the guys, watching the stone take on a new inscription. “Welcome, everyone to New Avalon, and the home of the sword in the stone.”

  “I’ll be fucking damned,” Mathias said with a chuckle, shaking his head with a grin of amusement.