Ruby Morgan Box Set: Books 6-10

by LJ Rivers

  I gawked. “You must be mocking me!”

  Again, he stared at me, confusion written in his eyes. “I can assure you I am not.”

  Footsteps approached in the dry grass, and I looked up, wiping my eyes with my sleeve. Brendan and Charlie came towards us on the path.

  “How are you?” Charlie asked, her voice brimming with concern.

  The lump in my throat returned instantly, and I shook my head. “Useless.”

  Brendan kneeled beside me and took my hand. “The primes are getting impatient. We have to take Morgana back to Avalen, and … and do whatever we have to do next.”

  I looked up at him, his face blurred by the veil of tears that had returned to my eyes.

  “There is no next,” I whispered. “He won.”

  “Listen, babe. Thousands of Avalonians expect you to lead them, and I will—”

  “I can’t lead them. What am I, a general all of a sudden?”

  “You don’t need to be. You just need to be yourself. Ruby of Morgana, Queen of Avalon. My Ruby. With your Masters of War, erudites, primes, and soldiers, you can rely on others to make the tactical decisions on the field.”

  “The battlefield, you mean.” I tried to shrug but didn’t have the energy. “So, if I’m just a symbol, the last container for Morgana’s blood, what use am I to anyone?”

  “Exactly that. The symbol of Morgana’s strength. Her loyalty to her people. They need to see that you won’t give in to Auberon. You be you. That is the inspiration they need. That we need.” He waved a hand between Pullhelli, Charlie, and himself.

  “All of us,” said Charlie.

  “I appreciate your words, believe me. But I don’t want the throne. I don’t want the responsibility. I can’t handle it.” I started sobbing again. “I’m not strong enough.”

  Brendan pulled me up and into his arms, holding me tight. My knees buckled, but he kept me upright as I buried my face in the groove of his neck. I just wanted him to take me away from it all. I wanted to wake up next to him in my narrow bed back home in Craydon Court. I wanted to hear Charlie dancing in the kitchen with Muse on full blast in her earbuds, while the smell of burnt bacon spread around our flat. I wanted to laugh at Jen as she scolded our little angel of a sister for ruining breakfast.

  “I can’t do it,” I sniffled.

  Brendan said nothing. He just held me close and stroked my hair, his heartbeat strong against my chest. A steady, calm rhythm. I started breathing more slowly, too, matching his pulse. The sounds and smells of the dark forest faded. The beat of Brendan’s heart turned into a distant hum, and my mind wandered, floating away on a river in my subconscious. I closed my eyes and found myself in another place and time.

  A little girl was smiling at me. Her golden eyes glinted like drops of honey, wrinkled at the corners as her smile spread across her face. She was standing in a doorway. She waved at me before she ran inside, slamming the door behind her. A peal of laughter tickled my eardrums.

  Xandra?

  The name had a ring of recognition to it.

  A voice spoke behind the door. No, it was singing. A gentle, soothing song. I wanted to get closer, and somehow I floated nearer to the wooden door. The song was louder. It filled the air like a warm summer breeze, carrying scents of the ocean and mountains at the same time. It was Xandra’s sister, Leona of Isolden. They were daughters of Marcellus, the records of my memories told me. She lived inside Morgana’s castle, by the grace of the queen.

  Her husband had died in the war. What was his name?

  The notes danced in my head, and Leona’s words painted themselves in the air, using all possible and impossible colours to emphasise their meaning. It was in Avalonian, but the translation I heard was one I knew well.

  Oh, Lady of Avalon

  again shall you wield

  the magical powers of yore

  The tyrants of northerne

  will perish in flames

  and reign over Avalon no more

  The last line repeated in my ears. Twice. Three times.

  “And reign over Avalon no more,” I joined in, almost wishing I could tell my father that the Avalonians had sung the words about beating the Northerners hundreds of years before he heard it for the first time. Maybe even before he was banished to the Realm of Shadows. He had mentioned hearing it in Wales around the year twelve hundred, and even told me he loved that song.

  The door opened, and Xandra’s smile illuminated the night. She pointed at the sky behind me. “The Light,” she said. “I remember it. I want to see it again.”

  I turned, lifted my chin, and looked at the blackness above. The spears of the castle reached into the night sky, poking holes of nothingness in the unlit void.

  “Can you get it back, My Queen?” Xandra asked.

  “I—I—” The words stuck in my throat. I wanted to say I would, but how could I? It would be a lie.

  “I know you can. Please, Queen Ruby?”

  “I’m not strong enough,” I croaked.

  “You are.” She sounded like a stubborn child, just as I had moments earlier. “You are alive, are you not?”

  I swallowed, averting my gaze. “I am.”

  “So it is true, if you believe it,” the little girl continued. Her voice had changed.

  I turned back to face her, and my jaw dropped. Where Xandra had stood, an infant child lay on the marble floor, swaddled in a pink blanket. Her eyes were diamonds.

  “Willow?”

  The baby reached out her tiny hand to me. I kneeled and gave her a finger to hold on to.

  “What doesn’t kill you …” her voice said in my head.

  “… makes me stronger,” I continued.

  “Huh?” said a man’s voice.

  Leona, Xandra, and Willow were gone, and darkness again shaded my vision. The vague scent of cinnamon danced before my nostrils.

  Brendan whispered in my ear, “What did you say?”

  “Nothing,” I whispered back.

  But it wasn’t true. In fact, I had said it all.

  Crap!

  This was actually happening.

  The feeling of anger and pride inside me was a snowflake sailing from the skies, landing atop a mountain. In my mind’s eye, I envisioned it as it fell on the edge of a slab of snow. Before it could settle, Xandra toppled it over the edge. As it rolled down the first inches, several other snowflakes melted into the first, and soon it had become a tiny ball. In seconds, the snowball grew taller than me. The mountainside was steep and covered with white dunes of snow. My snowball of anger and pride was turning into an avalanche of strength.

  Crap on top of crap …

  “… on a pile of crap in Crapville, Tennessee,” I said, and pulled away from Brendan’s embrace. “I’m so going to regret what I’m about to say.”

  I filled my chest with air and nodded at Pullhelli. Then at Charlie and Brendan. A name flashed by in my head. Ovidan. Leona’s husband, who had died protecting his family. Protecting Morgana and the Avalonians, too.

  I pointed south.

  “Let’s inspire, then!”

  Chapter Twenty

  Two Junipers stood guard outside the hut containing Morgana’s body. I bit my lower lip and approached them. Both bowed their heads.

  “Please, look at me,” I said quietly, and the guards obeyed. “I just wanted to look you in the eyes when I tell you how much you honour the memory of our late queen. You both fought hard and well at the Dewmas mines, and dozens of slaves have you to thank for their freedom.”

  One of the soldiers, a young man who couldn’t be much older than me, began kneeling. Halfway down, he thought better of it, and straightened again. “Her Majesty sacrificed her life for them. They were commoners; most were simple farmers or fishermen. But to her, they were important. May I speak freely, Princess?”

  Brendan, Charlie, and Pullhelli stood behind me, and the old Sorcerer drew his breath, likely to correct the young soldier. I beat him to it.

  “You may, soldi
er. Your name is Cullen, isn’t it?”

  His lips quirked up. “Cullen of South Tew, Highness.” He hesitated, narrowing his eyes as if contemplating the words. “Will you think of your people in the same way as Her Majesty, Princess?”

  “Queen!” his Juniper colleague hissed from the corner of his mouth.

  “That’s fine, soldier,” I said. “It will take some getting used to. For all of us, I think. Now, to answer your question, Cullen of South Tew, and might I add I appreciate your concern. After all, I have come here from another world, less than two hunter’s moons ago. But during my stay here in Gwyn Fanon, I have met some remarkable people. Eight awrs south of Avalen, a farmer took us in when we were in dire need of help. Out of the sheer goodness of his heart, he gave us food and drink and a place to rest. When we left, he even let us borrow two unicorns to help us on our journey.”

  “Kay,” whispered the young soldier.

  I flinched. “You know him?”

  “I know of him, Highness. Many travellers fill their water skins in his well, and he never asks anything in return. He’s more likely to pack a bread or two in their bags, to be honest. And it’s not like he has all that much to spare, neither of bread nor water, out there in the middle of the great nothing.”

  I smiled, despite myself. “I’m not surprised. And I have seen the same kindness and willingness to share among so many others. It seems to me an Avalonian who has but half a bread will break it in two if she sees a hungry person, and then give the poor, starving man both pieces.”

  The corners of Cullen’s mouth drew apart, and he let out a short, acknowledging laugh.

  “I have learned that helping those less fortunate is part of your nature. To me, that’s so much more important than wealth or stature; more than nobility and rank. And that is why I’ll always see your—my people as my first and only priority.”

  This time, Cullen dropped to one knee, but he held my gaze. “Then let my sword and spear protect you from all known and unknown enemies. I pledge my loyalty to you, Queen Ruby of Avalon. Until my last drop of blood. Until my last gasp of air. Until my last gaze upon fair Avalon.”

  I heaved for air. This was too much. Too real.

  “Y—you—” I cleared my throat. “You are a true Avalonian, and I’m honoured that you are the first to say the ancient words to me. I promise to do my best to be worthy of your pledge.” A thought sprung into my head, and I lay my hand on his shoulder. “Rise, Cullen of South Tew. Upon our return to Avalen, I want you to join the royal guard, and I’ll have Commander Taryn supervise your training.”

  Cullen rose and stood tall, his chest jutting out. “On one condition, My Queen.”

  I hadn’t expected him to set terms, and apparently neither had his fellow guard, who shook his head, glaring at Cullen. “Don’t, you idiot!” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Name it,” I said.

  “That my brother joins me. He is stronger and faster than I am, and has taught me everything I know about loyalty and how to be a soldier.” Cullen leaned to the side and nodded at Brendan. “With the exception of my new sword fighting skills, of course, Swordmaster.”

  “If what you say is true, I think I can meet your condition. When we return, you may bring him to me, and I will—”

  The Juniper stifled a giggle.

  It dawned on me, and I turned to his fellow soldier, whose eyes were still burning holes in Cullen. “So, you are him, right?”

  The Juniper bowed and fell to his knee. “I am, My Queen. Victor of South Pew. Please forgive my little brother’s manners.”

  Had it not been for the seriousness of the situation, I might have laughed myself, just like Cullen, who was still fighting to keep his cool. Instead, I turned to Brendan.

  “Swordmaster Brendan, can you spare these two so they can serve in Crimson cloaks?”

  “Not without reluctance, Your Highness,” he said, giving me a private wink, and I could have slapped him for the humorous tone in his voice. “They are, as you have witnessed first-hand, excellent soldiers, and I’ll miss them. But that’s also why I agree with you that they’ll fit among the Crimsons, too.”

  “Then it’s settled,” I said.

  From his stance, head still bowed, Victor repeated the ancient pledge of loyalty. Each syllable made my proverbial roots dig deeper into the soil of Avalon, even if we were hundreds of miles north of the island. Was this how I was going to decide my fate? Was it pledges like these that would make me want to stay?

  I still couldn’t let go of the fact that my home was back on Earth. In Chester. In London.

  But there was a voice inside me, a murmur from my innermost core. A murmur telling me differently. I had a purpose here, and these people were counting on me to lead them.

  “Lord Pullhelli?”

  “Yes, Highness?” He stepped forward.

  “Please prepare for our return … home,” I said. “Home to Avalen.”

  “As you wish.”

  An eagle came gliding over the treetops and alighted behind the corner of the hut. Shortly after, he came around it, fully dressed in his Juniper clothes.

  “Your Highness, Commander Taryn is five awrs north, with twenty-three slaves on foot.”

  “Thank you, Juniper Briar. He said he expected most of his group to take off once they crossed the border into Awarnach, so that makes sense. We should be able to load the rest onto our griffins, along with our primes and soldiers, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “I would,” he replied. “Might help if any winged Magical flies themselves, though.”

  “Good point. Help Taryn divide all … un-winged travellers on the griffins.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  I looked at Brendan and the others. “Has anyone seen Puck, by the way? The Goblin boy I brought back?”

  Brendan’s brows knitted. “No, not since I stepped into the hut when—” He paused, not wanting to finish the sentence. I wasn’t the only one hurting, and I had to remember that. “I’m sure he’s around somewhere.”

  “He’s been Bellion’s personal slave for years, and I’m not entirely sure, but he seems mute, so I don’t think he should be alone. Could you look for him?”

  “Sure. Wanna help, Char?”

  They went off, and I looked at Pullhelli as a knot formed in my stomach. “I will fly on Hondo, with Morgana’s body.”

  With a dip of his head, he veered away from me and started giving orders. While the soldiers and primes in the Gwyntali village began packing up and preparing for our return, I reached for the latch on the door. Cullen leaned in, but I held up my hand to stop him.

  “Help the others, Cullen. I need to be alone for a while.”

  He backed away, and I lifted the latch and stepped inside.

  The hut was empty, save for the glass-like dome under which Morgana’s body lay. My heart upped its rhythm as I approached the makeshift bed. I had never understood the point of the lying-in-state tradition. I recalled one time when some elderly statesman was shown in the horizontal display on the news, in some gold-plated castle. People lined up for hours to get a three-second glimpse of his oily, wrinkled skin. Mum had tried to explain it to me, and how they wanted to pay their respects, but it always seemed wrong to me, somehow. Eerie. And the old corpse visited me in my nightmares for the next three or four nights after.

  Morgana looked nothing like that. She was as beautiful as always, maybe even more so. The hint of wrinkles by the corners of her eyes were gone, and had I not known better, I would have thought she was just a thirty-something, gorgeous woman, sound asleep.

  When the old statesman died, his political adversary had used the opportunity to take his place through a coup d’état. The ramifications of Morgana’s passing might turn out the same way. When my father learned about her death, he wouldn’t waste a second. A chilling thought emerged. What if he attacked before I could even get back to Avalen?

  I ran outside. Everyone was busy carrying out my orders.

  �
��Tell Lord Pullhelli to meet me as soon as possible. And bring Lord Sanctor and Lady Diwella, too.”

  “At once,” Cullen replied.

  I took his arm. “Wait. Get the Swordmaster and Lady Carolina, as well. And Lady Jeannine.”

  Cullen hurried away, and I returned inside.

  I had a plan, and it was crazy. But crazy might be the only way to deal with my father.

  “Puck ran north,” Charlie said as she sauntered inside, her shoulders slumped. “Sorry, Ru. The Juniper who saw him didn’t think it a big deal as quite a few of the other slaves had gone back home to Awarnach or wherever.”

  I sighed. While a part of me wanted to search for him myself, I had greater concerns. “I just wanted to make sure he was OK.”

  “Want me to send someone to look for him?” Brendan asked.

  I gave it a moment of thought. “Send Briar, but tell him to return in two awrs regardless of whether he finds him. Much as I hate to let the poor Goblin go, I can’t risk wasting more time.” I smoothed out the folds of my dress. Morgana’s dress. “If this thing works, which it probably won’t, we might buy ourselves a few days before Auberon finds out.”

  “It will work, My Queen.” Prime Diwella swept a lock of hair from my collarbone, tucking it behind my ear. “Your likeness to her is uncanny.” She conjured a force field in front of me. The translucent sphere hovered before my face, and when the Fae moved her hands together, it narrowed to a flat, slightly convex shape. Diwella retrieved a small flask from a pouch and dipped her fingertip into the neck of it. She proceeded to paint the flat force field with the dark, ink-like liquid.

  “A mirror,” Charlie said, standing on her tiptoes to get a closer look. “Smart.”

  Diwella arched an eyebrow. “Fae magic can be useful in many ways, not least when a woman wants to fix her appearance out in the wild.”

  I couldn’t utter a word. The image reflecting off the force field was mine, but it was also Morgana’s. Diwella had used various herbs to paint thin lines on my face, making me look much older than my mere twenty years, and Sanctor had provided us with a pollenlike substance, which he had melted and mixed. Once done, Diwella had massaged the concoction into my hair, reducing the red in it and lightening the shade. But mimicking Morgana wasn’t what shocked me from being able to speak.