Arthur, the first, is paired with two women: Guinevere and Lisandor. There were no children with Guinevere, a woman Grandfather called The Great Harlot. But Loholt was born to Lisandor and is the start of our family line. We haven’t been Pendragons since.
Shaking my head, I look up from the paper again. “I don’t understand. This makes Loholt look like he was illegitimate.” I assumed he wasn’t because he was king after Arthur, but now that I think about it, no one ever told us as much.
“He was. He was given his mother’s name of Greyscvard but ascended the throne after Arthur’s death. The family reigned there until they were driven out by war. They fled south from Britannia and hid away for several years before settling across the sea. I’m sure you know the rest from there.”
“Hmm.” I frown at the names. “Why did you want me to see this? What am I supposed to get from it?” All the piles of gold and crap are starting to make a little bit of sense. It doesn’t explain why they’ve been dragging it around all these years, though.
“You come from power, dear Jade. Morgan Le Fey was a powerful enchantress. Her blood runs through the family’s veins still, though it is weak from lack of use.”
Morgan and Arthur are definitely names that keep showing up in this family. My grandfather told us it was a sign of respect, for each generation to have an Arthur. It explains why my middle name is Morgan, and why there are so many variations of that name on the tree. They just reuse the same names over and over again. I’m sure my mother fought against calling me Morgan. I don’t think it suits me.
“Do you know now who I am?”
I watch the sealed door. “No.” It’s getting harder and harder to convince myself that he’s not real.
“Think, dear one. The family had a mentor. The Pendragons. The Greyscvards.”
I shrug, even though he can’t see me. So he says. “Sure. My brothers and I were told all the stories about King Arthur and Lancelot and Merlin and the knights.” Kaius used to tell me that the family was cursed…until I came down with the same symptoms that had plagued Alara. Then it wasn’t funny anymore. “A mentor was mentioned, I guess. Or like a sorcerer? But that was just to make the story more entertaining.”
“Was it?”
Vibrant green smoke coats the contraption now.
I roll up the family tree and stow it away in my pocket with the others. “What are you saying? That you’re a wizard?” My voice breaks a little from the mild laughter bubbling in my stomach. A wizard trapped in a metal box. A box oozing green smoke. The urge to laugh fades. Something is in that box.
“My name is Aric. But for a time, I was known as Merlin the Great. I was a mentor to young King Arthur, and helped your family rise to the greatness it is known for…because I knew they were worthy and would do many great things.” The voice hisses louder. “We stood side by side for two hundred and fifty years. Partners. Friends. Allies. Then Arthur II grew restless and frightened that I would leave. The family had amassed a great amount of wealth and power…what more could I give them? He feared I would be drawn away to help another family, and that they would rise up as competition. But I am loyal to this family, whatever the name. Pendragon. Greyscvard. Xacharias.” The smoke around his prison glows brighter.
“What are you? You’re not human.”
“No…I have roamed for many lifetimes. I am ageless. Changeable. Immortal.” His voice sounds like it travels back and forth, as if he’s pacing inside that box, much like a caged panther. “Morgana used dark and powerful sorcery to trap me in this crypt…I’ve been wasting away in here for centuries.”
My fists tighten. “You’ve been driving everyone mad.” The truth is bitter in my throat. I pull out the family tree and look over it again, at all the crossed-out names. I wonder if Megara did this, and then crossed out her own name before she died. Before she killed herself.
The voice sighs, a soft sound that’s almost sorrowful. “I will be honest with you.” The words hiss up to one wall in the confined space and then to another. “First, I wanted vengeance against the family. They betrayed me. They hurt me. But as the years passed, I only wanted freedom…” Smoke crawls over the steps towards me, slowly, and I inch closer to the exit. “As you can imagine, there was no longer any trust…on either side. I tried to make amends. I tried to help them understand. But the men in this family would poison their sisters and daughters against me. Year after year. That was their fear talking. They are all blind to it. I only want to serve again. To protect. To guide. It is my only purpose.”
I shake my head. “No one ever told me about you.”
“They lie!” Something knocks against the inside of the box. The crypt. His prison.
My words stick in my mouth. I scoot closer to the silver door.
“So many lies…dear Jade…please, believe in me. I want to help you. I also want to be free again. Can you imagine how miserable this is? How dark…how lonely…” The tendrils of smoke retreat down the steps. “I care deeply for this family. It’s not my intention to harm anyone. But I am not the one doing the harm. I don’t believe I frightened you when we first spoke.”
“You didn’t.” My voice wavers slightly, from the cold and possibly something else.
“Who told you something was wrong with you?”
“My family.”
“No. Your father. Your mother. They hurt you. They’ve kept secrets. They’ve lied…I would never hurt you.”
The cold air is thick around me. It presses into my skin like fingers.
“They tried to keep me away from you…they’re afraid. But you’re so much stronger than they are. They couldn’t break you. They can’t.”
My thoughts fold over each other. I think about my fifth birthday. I think about this last birthday. I think about all the years I spent running from that voice. His voice. “Does my father know that you’re the one who’s talking to me?”
“He does. Your mother, too. Your uncle. Your grandmother. Your grandfather and brothers are as ignorant as they are old and young. They think they are protecting you, but they’ve caused you so much harm. I want your suffering to end. I want the noxious cycle to end.”
“And…you want me to let you out?”
“When the time is right. I still need to earn your trust.”
I swallow the lump of confusion threatening to block my airways. There’s no way. Why would they do that to me? Why would they poison me and isolate me so much? Why would they tell me that I’m psychotic and crazy? Why would they do that if they knew? If this voice is real and belongs to a real…something, and everyone knows about it, why not just get rid of that damn metal box? Why is it down here instead of on the bottom of a river?
“I have to go.”
“I understand.”
I don’t know how I get up to my room, but I spend the rest of the day studying every inch of those papers, even the one I can’t read. I stare at them until I can’t anymore. And then I dream about them.
13
Power
Marley catches me the next morning on my way back down to the crypt. I can’t stop myself from going. I know I can talk to him…to it…anywhere, but I feel like we have a sense of privacy down in the tunnels. And I feel closer to him there.
“Jade! I’m so glad I caught you. Are you going to be around this weekend? I have an impromptu hiking excursion. I need someone to check on Oscar.”
“Sure, no problem.”
She gives me a bright smile and dashes back inside to get the spare key. Her camping pack is leaning against the wall. It’s very serious-looking with all the pulleys and pockets and straps. She steps out and presses the key into my hand. “Thanks so much. I know it’s super last minute, but I’m dying to hike this trail.”
“Yeah. It’s totally fine.” Seriously. She knows I have no life. “Have fun.”
“Thanks again.” We take the elevator together, and I get off on the office floor while she rides down to the residential lobby.
It’s Saturday,
but an annoyingly large number of people are still dashing in and out of the office. Thankfully, the mailroom is empty. I don’t have to worry about David working on the weekend. I stow Marley’s key away in my back pocket. I put on jeans today for some reason—probably because I was leaving my room. Normally I spend the weekend in pajamas, locked inside, doing absolutely nothing. I suppose I could waltz around the office in pajamas, but I’ll attract way less attention this way. I also threw on a heavy sweater.
My quick footsteps echo around me in the tunnels, sounding unnaturally loud in the confined space. I don’t remember the silver door shutting behind me when I left yesterday, but I ran out so quickly. It’s sealed tight again. I lift my hand to the crimson wheel and brace myself. But the spokes spin the moment I touch them, and the door opens, groaning and dragging itself against the stone.
I step inside and approach the metal crypt with caution. Steam rises around it, like the contents within are boiling. The voice doesn’t speak. Frigid air wafts away from the metal bars over the door. I inspect all the sides, studying the chains, the immaculate metal walls.
I don’t know how I feel about anything. He’s saying that he’s not my imagination. It’s so hard to believe, but I have to admit that the family tree is making a case for his point. Women have been dying for centuries without any real cause to speak of. All of them driven to madness by his voice. I have no proof that it’s the same voice everyone else heard, but I feel in my gut that it is.
The look on my parents’ faces while they watched me talk to myself…to it…that’s probably all the proof I really need. I suppose they were just trying to protect me from the same fate as Aunt Alara. But things just aren’t adding up anymore.
“You came back.”
I move back from the icy crypt. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“I wasn’t sure. While this is all very normal to me, I know how strange it must look for you.”
“Why are you here, in this room, instead of somewhere else?”
Low hissing billows out from the box. “They’ve been dragging me around the world for centuries.”
“But why?”
“The same reason they put me in here in the first place.”
I move further back. “So no one else could find you and free you.”
“Yes…” Wisps of green smoke squeeze around back of the metal box and jostle the chains. “I can sense your doubt…”
“It’s just…I still feel like I’m talking to myself.”
“Yes…” The voice brushes against the left side of the box, then the right. “You’re not. What can I do to help you see that I’m as real as you are?”
There’s nothing. Except maybe getting into that contraption and seeing what’s in there for myself. But I’m not sure I want to. I still don’t understand what he is, and as long as he’s just a voice, he seems almost harmless. Anything could happen once that door is opened. Anything could be behind those bars.
“Let me help you enhance your power.”
“I don’t want power.”
“It doesn’t matter if you want it. It’s there. Use it. There’s a chalice on top of an open chest to your left. Bring it to you. Use your mind.”
My eyes roam the room until they land on a golden chalice with an emerald trim, sitting on a bed of roughly cut sapphires. “How do you know where everything is?”
“I feel them. There is energy in everything. You will feel it, as well, when you become stronger.”
That doesn’t explain anything. “Does anyone ever come down here?”
Sighing echoes around the room. “Just one man…a while ago.”
“Who?”
“Holton…he brought down the chest you opened yesterday. I believe he was trying to hide it. It belonged to his sister. The times I could get her to speak with me, she said she was studying the family, looking for answers…” The sighing is starting to sound like breathing, heavy, labored breaths. Weary breaths. “I thought you might find it helpful.”
“The papers are old. They’re not in modern English. The only thing that really makes sense is the family tree.”
“It’s the only thing of importance…move the cup.”
I focus on the chalice. It teeters, but that’s it. “I can’t—”
“You can.”
Why am I even bothering? I try to lift it off the sapphires, and it just falls over and crashes to the floor. I wince and move towards it to put it back. Not that it matters if it’s on the floor or not.
“Try again.”
My steps falter. “Why?”
“It will make you stronger.”
“But I don’t know what I’m doing.” And it’s stupid. I feel crazy. It’s not a feeling I like in the slightest. The cup shakes against the stone tiles at my annoyance. I pull at it again, and it flies into my hand. I cry out as it smacks my palm and catch it before it falls again. A small grin pulls at the corners of my lips. That’s kind of cool, if I’m being honest. Useless, but cool. I let the chalice go and hover it in the air.
Light vibrations hum under my skin, and something in my brain flexes and stretches. It’s like a muscle, and it’s tight from disuse. I inch the chalice forward, closer to the pile of sapphires. It almost feels like I’m pushing against a giant block, but there’s a change in the air, a soft buzzing that I can feel with my fingers. I guide the chalice back to where I found it, and search for something bigger to move.
“What’s the point of moving stuff around?” I locate an Indonesian vase. It feels heavy, but it lifts off the floor and hovers for a moment before dropping back down.
“You’re not moving stuff.” He says the word “stuff” with a tiny bit of disdain. “You’re manipulating the energy around things. That’s the true foundation of this skill. Moving stuff is just a byproduct. If you’re intentional, you can do so much more.”
“Like what?”
“You’ll be able to feel the energy around people and objects as I do. Sense their energy. Their emotions. You’ll be able to sense power, and that will also aid you in strengthening and controlling your own. With work, you can even change biological matter. Turning a rose into a chalice, for example. Or…turning your hair from black to red. And other things…things your ancestors could do…but you are a long way from that.”
“That doesn’t sound particularly useful.”
“It would if you were less dismissive of it.”
“I guess.” I latch onto some gold coins and juggle them slowly through the air.
“I speak in simplistic terms, but trust me, it is a very useful skill.”
Exhaustion presses into my brain, and the coins plop back to the pile I plucked them from. I yawn into the back of my hand.
“Stamina increases with practice.”
I laugh a little. “Great.” I settle down on the stone slab and face the crypt.
My eyes trace the perfect, even lines of the metal, and as I stare, electric green light glows around it and expands—hot and restless. I don’t know what’s changed since I first stepped in here, but a strong wave of heat radiates from behind the metal that I didn’t feel before. I slide down from the slab and back away towards the door.
“You’re sensing more of my energy now. It frightens you.”
I shake my head, but it’s true. Fear winds between my ribs.
“Don’t fear me, Jade…I am here to serve you, never harm you.” Hissing climbs the walls and slithers across the ceiling. I follow it with my eyes. “More importantly…don’t fear yourself. Don’t fear what you can you do. Stretch your abilities and your senses. They are far more than parlor tricks. Use them and grow stronger. Use them and free yourself.”
My lungs feel tight. Shallow air passes through them as I move to the exit.
“Stop.”
I do. But I don’t know why.
“You won’t get stronger by giving up. Don’t quit working just because you’re tired. And afraid.”
I turn away from the silver door.
Despite the fact that he can talk to me almost anywhere, being down here with him, in this cold room, makes everything more real. Even without his prison, chained to the wall as it is, this place is unsettling. But most unsettling is what it all means about my past. If they lied about that, what else have they lied about it? What else are they hiding? It’s a rabbit hole I don’t want to explore.
But I’ve been pushed down it. I can’t go back to being ignorant. I wrap my hands around my arms and move closer to his prison.
“I want you to trust me. That won’t happen if you run.”
The fear doesn’t leave. It intensifies and starts climbing into my throat. But what else am I going to do with my day? Am I just going to go back to my living room and sit there all day like I normally do? Sit there and pretend like this room doesn’t exist? Sit there and wait for him to whisper to me again? I suppose I could try to find Griffin and see what he’s up to. But he’s likely hanging out with my brothers. That’s what he’s normally up to on a Saturday, doing guy crap with my brothers and Logan, the bastard.
Anger displaces some of the fear.
“What is troubling you?”
“Why do you think I’m troubled?”
“I can feel your tension. Stay a little longer. Distraction is good for the soul.”
“I’m tired.” I need a nap, and maybe some distance will calm me down. I can always come back later. I’m not sure I can stay away now anyway.
His energy coils in the air around me, powerful and warm. “Fight, dear Jade. Nothing will ever change in your life if you don’t fight.”
Change…I do want things to change. I just don’t know what I want them to change to. The urge to retreat is strong; it pulls at me. But I cave and stay. It’s better than being alone with my thoughts. They just chase each other. And the piles of junk down here are offering a much-needed change of scenery.
“Fine.” I settle on the top step, far enough away from him that I can leave quickly if his energy grows too intense. “How exactly do I stretch my senses?” Whatever the hell that means.
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