Ruby Morgan Box Set: Books 6-10

by LJ Rivers

  Then the howl broke through the air. It was as if twenty cats decided to wail at the same time, in perfect unison. Kit stopped rubbing against my legs and bounced off in the direction of the sound. Out of the shadows a dark figure emerged, slowly and painfully slinking through the archway. Nefari moved like a tortured lioness—and wasn’t far from one in size—with her head low to the ground and her tail pointing down. As she came closer, her wails increased in volume.

  I crouched and reached for her. “Come here, love.”

  She stopped a few yards away from me and stared. Not at me, but at the movement behind me. I glanced over my shoulder. Two Junipers were carrying the late queen on a stretcher between them, while three more marched next to them, spears in hand.

  “Nefari,” I said in a low voice. “Please, girl, come here.”

  The queen’s Faeguard looked at me. Then at the queen, and back at me again. Kit stood close to her, his chin touching the side of her right front leg.

  “Come,” I tried for a third time.

  She stopped wailing, but a low rumble remained in her throat, like the aftermath of a storm. The giant feline yowled, backing up, and followed the Junipers.

  I understood her.

  Brendan took my arm and led me towards the gateway inside the castle. Charlie came up on my left and slid her arm into the crook of mine, while Jen took her free hand. The four of us earthlings strode into the castle without a word. I suspected we were thinking the same, anyway.

  War was coming, and we would all be a part of it.

  “Princess?”

  “Come in, Lord Pullhelli.” I put my cup on the small table by my bedroom window. I had just finished my meal, save for a quarter of the far too big loaf of bread. Cherise had sent for it, and Tallaks again proved what a magic touch he had, conjuring new flavours every time I tasted his baked goods. Countless times I had asked what was inside the bread, and his response was always the same. Silence and a crooked smile.

  “Is she—is everything taken care of?”

  “It is, Princess,” Pullhelli said. “The queen’s essence is protected by her vessel, which is again protected by her erudites’ ointments and herbs. She will be ready to move into the light when the time comes.”

  “And when might that be?”

  “I think we should let her people have ample time to mourn her. I gather five moons would suffice. By then, they will no longer shed tears, but celebrate her life with ale and … well, more ale, I guess. We should bring her before the Lady of the Lake in seven moons.”

  “And you will see to it?”

  “I will. Thank you.” He turned to leave.

  “Stay, Pullhelli. Please.”

  “Uh, of course. You wish something else of me?”

  I did. At least when I stood atop The Spear and was filled with inspiration and motivation from my three maternal anchors. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

  …choosing to go on when you don’t have the strength.

  “I do. Would you please tell me about our family? I would like to know more about Merlin and how it was you came to be a part of … my court.”

  He leaned his cane against the wall and came to sit opposite me. His wise eyes never left mine. “I would like that.” He looked out the window, as if conjuring memories from a time long past, when he was still young. “I suppose I’ll have to start with the beginning.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A surge of air brushed over me as Hondo soared over the landscape. We had started our flight along the southern coast, past Vivenne, then above the remains of Isolden. Ruins still dotted the landscape, but the rebuild of the city was well on its way. This day, however, no one was working. Everyone had stopped what they were doing for one day and night of sorrow. Clouds of Pixies had spread out all over Avalon, carrying orbs of healing light that glinted like shining tears everywhere the eye could see. Hondo banked towards the western corner of Avalon, across Sebilleni, then turned back along the northern coastline, past Cavalas and Pelles. All the while, I waved a burning sword in my hands, fuelled by my magic. Hondo dipped low every time we passed another village or town, so that the people could all get a look at their queen to be.

  This was all Pullhelli’s design, and though I hadn’t quite warmed to the idea of my new title just yet, I had a responsibility to these people, and I wanted to honour Morgana as much as anyone, if not more. Now and then, a stray tear sailed over my cheek to fly off in the gusts of wind. But I had to stay strong, like Morgana had wanted me to. It had been a week since our return to Avalen, and the people had been given the traditional five days to start their mourning process. While we had wanted to keep Morgana’s death a secret for as long as possible, her people—my people—deserved to say their goodbyes.

  Finally, Avalen came into view. The city stood out like a bright torch in the night. Morgana’s limestone castle glimmered in hues of green. All ships and boats lay docked, but I glimpsed a plethora of figures in the water, dipping in and out of the surface. Some small, some ginormous, and a fair few had light sources of their own, though I couldn’t tell of what kind.

  “Take a detour,” I said to Hondo, tugging gently at the fur on his left shoulder blade. He squawked, sailing effortlessly through the sky. Cascades of all possible and impossible colours washed over the waves as Hondo swept out over the sea. The creatures of the waters had the same right to mourn as everyone else, and I wanted them to see me acknowledge their grief. Gathering myself, I filled my free palm with healing light, letting it wash down over the creatures to bring them strength. Honks, groans, and barking noises responded as my healing magic swept over the sea creatures. It wouldn’t heal any wounds, but the warmth and intention should be enough to lessen their pain.

  A swarm of water pixies spun out of the surface as one massive shadowy spear. They dispersed and flitted around Hondo and me for a while, then came together as one shape again, forming a black M on the firmament. My heart swelled, and I bowed my head at them.

  “Now for the home stretch,” I whispered.

  Hondo dived downwards, then levelled out just above the water, high enough so none of the creatures could touch me, but close enough for them to see my face. He turned his beak to the port, and with a few flaps of his wings, he swooped up and over the tallest ship masts.

  No one cheered. There were no shouts or words of encouragement. But thousands of people had gathered in the streets, and as Hondo began his flight above the city, scores of Fae shot into the air, releasing what reminded me of Chinese sky lanterns, carrying a single flame inside. All around me, the air was lit up by them.

  Then a mournful voice rose above the silence.

  It sounded like the voice of Tallaks, the baker, though I hadn’t heard him sing until now. It was as beautiful as it was heart-breaking.

  “Oh, Lady of Avalon,” he sang.

  The words brought tears to my eyes once more, and I unwittingly chimed in, singing through my pain. Other voices joined in until every citizen became a part of the chorus, creating a symphony of grief, pride and, above all, hope. A hope that even though their queen was gone, I would be here to protect them. Avalon would not fall into the hands of the Sorcerer King. I didn’t know if I could, but I hoped I was able to find it in me to do what I had to. For Morgana’s sake, for my grandmother’s sake, and most of all for my mum.

  I swung the flaming sword above my head one final time as we soared over the castle walls. Junipers lined the battlements, solemnly bowing their heads, while a throng of Crimsons stood alongside the inner walls.

  Hondo alighted gently in the lower bailey where I slid off him, sheathing the sword that had once belonged to Morgana.

  “Thank you, my friend.” I placed my head to his beak, and he squawked quietly in return. Turning away from him, I went over to the lone, majestic unicorn awaiting me. Morgana’s unicorn. All that had once been hers was now mine, for better or for worse.

  The grey and black mare wore no saddle and had no bridle or reins, but she would k
now where to go. “Hey, there, Guinevere,” I cooed. “You ready to run?”

  She whinnied low in response, and I swung myself on her back. As soon as my fingers wrapped around a chunk of her silky mane, she set off in a gallop across the yard, nearly flying up the stairs to the upper bailey. We continued through the many arches that led further into the heart of the castle, and I tried waving as we thundered past the castle citizens. We continued up into one of the towers, built specifically for larger animals. Instead of a stairway, there was a flat, circular pathway leading to a walkway above. Guinevere rushed out of the tower and continued towards the bridge that would lead us to the back of the castle. We dashed across the bridge, then slowed to a trot. We had reached the end of the wall where the mountain range rose ahead. Carefully, Guinevere started on a winding path along the ridge.

  Below us, the waterfall spilled into the lake, slowly and purposefully, as if it too was mourning this night. In the grove, a bonfire crackled. Everyone looked up as I approached. We couldn’t risk bringing too many people back here, but it was still a sizable crowd. All my old and new friends had come, with the exception of Jack and Erica, who had stayed behind in Talani: Charlie, Brendan, Jen, Halwyn and his son Wadyan, Pullhelli and the remaining primes, including the newly appointed prime, and a few of Morgana’s closest allies, such as Taryn. The Crimson centaur Anwinar had come too, along with my chambermaid Cherise, and even Morgana’s tailor, Berlomis, and Elwood of Pelles along with his apprentice, Feeney. There were also a few other more or less familiar faces, and they were all turned to me. By the lake, however, stood a pearly white raft. Next to it lay the midnight-black feline, Morgana’s Faeguard, her saucer-wide, silver eyes staring up at me. If my heart hadn’t been shattered already, it would have done so all over again. On top of the raft, Morgana’s still form was encased in a force field, courtesy of Prime Diwella, to make sure the queen’s body did not decay too fast. Halwyn and a few other Goblins had tended to her as well, embalming her in something that would apparently help further slow the process. I hadn’t asked to hear the details.

  Guinevere trotted lightly off the path and advanced to the raft. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I gazed down at my queen, then dismounted from the mare. I patted her on her neck as she bowed her head, her muzzle grazing the force field over Morgana’s face.

  “I know,” I said. “I miss her too.”

  The unicorn pranced, then flung herself back whence we had come, the sound of her hoofs against stone echoing through the mountain.

  Kit was the first to approach me. He slinked around my feet, yowling softly as if crying. His very presence gave me strength, however. I knew what came next. Pullhelli had guided me through the steps. Still, this was my final goodbye to a woman whom I had loved almost as much as my own mum. And I didn’t want to say goodbye. However much I wanted to turn back time, even a Time Turner couldn’t have fixed this. I had to give Morgana the respect she was owed, and that meant giving her this Essencebearing in a way she would have wanted.

  Pullhelli inclined his head at me, flaming tendrils slithering around his cane. I nodded back, then sucked in a deep breath, preparing to raise my voice. I couldn’t show weakness, not now. These people—my people—were all counting on me.

  “May your essence float into the arms of the Lady.” My voice rang out with such force I almost stopped. Shaking myself, I kept going. “May she embrace you and give you peace. May your body bring forth new life, so you may live on, not only in our collective memories, but in the very earth you loved so much. Avalon was your pride, your queendom and, moreover, your heart. We will not forget.” I looked down at her serene face, then whispered, “I love you.”

  I nodded at Taryn, who stepped away from Evelyne, who he’d been embracing, to approach the raft. His skin rippled, and a few feathers sprouted from his arms. Mid-shift, he plucked one of the feathers out.

  Diwella gestured with her hand to lower the force field, and Taryn placed the feather in Morgana’s folded hands. “My Queen,” he said in a firm, yet anguished voice. “I will serve you and your legacy for as long as there is breath in my body. May your Essence soar from this life to the next, and may my wings aid you in your passing.” He reached out and grabbed the raft, pushing it into the lake.

  I went to the edge, guiding the raft with my telekinesis towards the waterfall. Nefari meowed sharply, getting to her feet, before leaping away along the shore, following her queen. The feline’s cries echoed my sorrow.

  Just as the raft sailed underneath the waterfall, Nefari disappeared into the cave behind it. The cascading water glimmered as if covered in stardust before the water itself turned luminescent, casting a blinding light across the grove, and painting waves of swimming spectacles on the night sky, glowing in hues of greens and blues.

  Tears swam down my face once more as Brendan, Charlie, and Jen came to stand by the shore with me. We clasped our hands together until we were all linked as one, and I took comfort in knowing they were still here, still by my side.

  “We got you,” Brendan whispered in my ear.

  “You’re not alone,” Charlie said on my other side.

  “She was a true alpha,” Jen said wistfully. “And so are you, Red.”

  I smiled through my tears, thankful for Brendan and my angels. They always had my back, and I would always have theirs. I might be the last of my Morgana bloodline, but I still had family.

  Somewhere in the distance, Guinevere whinnied, sending a shiver of ice down my spine. All my sorrow, and all my hope was replaced by a sinking feeling of dread. My skin tingled and chills ran across my body. Had he no decency at all? I let go of my friends and whirled around.

  “My father is coming!”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  A black cloud descended upon the grove, blocking most of the light from the lanterns and the bonfire.

  “To arms!” Commander Taryn shouted, and the sound of unsheathing swords filled the air. “Protect your queen!”

  In seconds, three Crimson guards surrounded me, all pointing their spears and swords at the cloud. I raised my arms, palms aiming in the same direction, and let two orbs of fire hover in front of me. Brendan had drawn his sword, as had Elwood and Feeney. Jen fell forward and alighted as her four-legged, intimidating alter ego. Prime Diwella conjured a giant force field, enveloping Halwyn, Wadyan, and Charlie all at once.

  “This is a hallowed ceremony,” I yelled. “You are not welcome, Auberon.” My eyes darted from left to right, trying to spot any man-shaped manifestations in the cloud. “I repeat, you are not—”

  “Silence!” bellowed a voice so sonorous and deep it made my insides tremble. “Order your soldiers to lay down their arms, or they will be obliterated.”

  It was my father, but it sounded like he was speaking through a PA system worthy of a rock concert, his voice echoing off the mountain wall.

  “Show yourself, coward,” I replied.

  The cloud thinned, and the dark grey matter turned into a misty veil of vaporising shadows. A single Sorcerer appeared. His black cape was undulating around him, as if his very magic kept it afloat, and he looked every bit the dark Sorcerer I knew. His cane rested, as always, in his hand, and turquoise strands of what looked like thin threads of Enchantium were woven into the collar of his black cloak. To complete the ensemble, his head was graced with an Enchantium crown, likely courtesy of his Goblin slaves.

  “Weapons down. You have five eyeblinks, Princess.”

  Taryn and two more Crimsons stepped ahead of me and joined the circle of guards.

  My father was alone, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. There was no way he would ever risk his life like this without knowing he had the upper hand.

  “Where are they?” I asked.

  His eyes narrowed slightly, and a wry smile crossed his lips. “Close.” He nodded at the surrounding guards. “Four.”

  “Begone, Sorcerer!” one of the Crimsons shouted, then foolishly charged at the Dewinian king. The soldie
r, a Fae, pushed a force field against my father, encasing him in the plastic-like sphere. He lowered his spear and stood five feet in front of Auberon.

  “Stand down, Crimson!” I said, but he didn’t budge. I pushed the other guards aside and took a step closer. “Get away, or he’ll hurt you!”

  Inside the force field, my father didn’t even glance at the soldier, or his spear.

  “I will not.” He shrugged. “But she will.”

  A blade protruded from the Crimson’s throat, and a blotch of red spread on the surface of the spear. Behind him, a woman had appeared out of thin air, holding the hilt of the curved dagger. The Dodgeress leaned forward and tilted her head, as if to examine the damage she had caused, before the Crimson soldier fell limply to the ground.

  “No!” someone cried out behind me. A blur passed by a few feet to my right, but stopped inches before it hit the Dodgeress. The blur was a spear, held up by my father’s telekinesis. He flicked his hand, and the spear turned and flew straight back at the Crimson guard who had thrown it.

  It would have killed him, had it not been for my own magic. I froze it in the air, just like Auberon had done, then let it fall to the ground.

  “Charge!” Taryn ordered, and the soldiers reacted.

  “That’s enough!” My father’s voice resounded in the night. He held his cane out, and a shock wave rippled through the air, knocking half the soldiers and several of the other guests over like bowling pins. “Soldiers of Mynydd Dewin! Show yourselves!”

  From the dark surroundings, dozens of silhouettes appeared. They dropped off shelves on the mountain, climbed down from trees, and emerged from shadows. Soon, the whole grove was surrounded by at least a hundred black-clad soldiers. Some were armed with spears, others with daggers and knives, some with canes. I counted at least ten bears. We were completely outnumbered.

  “Last chance, Princess. Lay down your arms, or suffer the fate of your soldier.”