The other dogs took off after her, and Cavall could hear the hoofbeats of the horse coming up from behind as he raced with the pack. It felt marvelous to run. The wind blew in his face and the trees blurred together. He lifted his nose and let the stories of those who had passed by here wash over him: the other dogs, of course, and Tristan and the horse, but other scents, too. Wild scents. Animal scents. One in particular smelled like the long grass from the fields, but gritty, like dirt. It also had a taste to it, like meat. Not the cooked meat people ate. It all seemed almost . . . familiar somehow. Was that what a deer smelled like?
When Cavall looked back, he saw Gless breaking free from the others. His longs legs carried him through the underbrush like it was no more than low-lying clouds.
Cavall dug his paws into the dirt to give himself an extra boost of speed. He found himself catching up to Anwen. If he could overtake her, maybe Tristan would tell Arthur just how fast and good at hunting he was.
As he caught up, Anwen shot him an ugly look over her shoulder. “The idea is to follow me, not outrun me,” she scolded. “This is a hunt, not a race.”
“Oh, sorry. I just thought . . . because Gless is . . .” He nodded to where Gless was gaining on the two of them. He was like a furry blur as he darted in and out of the trees.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Anwen demanded as Gless whooshed past her.
He didn’t answer.
“He’s competitive,” Cavall said, feeling the need to defend his brother. “Gless!” he called out. “Slow down. It’s not a race.”
Gless didn’t answer Cavall either. If anything, he ran faster.
“Stop!” Tristan pulled on the reins of his horse and brought the pack to a halt, but Gless didn’t stop with them. Even when Tristan shouted, “Whoa, dog!” Gless didn’t stop. A split second later, he vanished into the trees ahead of them.
Tristan cursed and got down from his horse. He walked to Anwen and patted her head. “Good dog.” Then, hands on his hips, he looked out into the forest. “Dog!” he called. “Dog, get back here!”
Of course Gless didn’t come. There really was no stopping him when he got on a competitive tear like this.
Cavall stepped forward. “I’ll bring him back,” he volunteered. “He’s my brother, and I know his scent better than anyone else.”
Anwen regarded him skeptically. “All right, but be quick about it or Tristan will think you’ve deserted as well.”
Cavall nodded and broke into a run. He knew he wasn’t as fast as Gless, or as strong, but if anyone should go after him, it was Cavall. They were littermates, even if they were far from home. No, Cavall had to remind himself, the castle was their home now, and Arthur and Edelm and all the rest were their family. He’d find his brother and lead him back before he got into any trouble. And maybe Anwen and Edelm would even praise him for doing something right for once.
Chapter 5
THE FOREST GREW DARKER THE FARTHER Cavall traveled. The beaten path the hunting party had been following vanished quickly. He tried to focus on Gless’s trail, but other sounds and scents kept distracting him. He caught a whiff of deer again and hints of other animals he couldn’t identify. Sometimes he would catch sight of them out of the corner of his eye as they scattered to the side. One had a fluffy tail, while another made grunting noises as it beat a path away from him. His paws itched to run after them, but he had to find Gless first.
The forest was still not a good place to be alone. Merlin had said that not all the fay who lived here were bad, but some were. And some were dangerous. If Gless came across one of the dangerous ones . . . Cavall shook his head. He didn’t even want to think about that.
“Gless!” he called. “Gless, you need to come back!”
If Gless heard him, he didn’t respond. Cavall couldn’t even hear the rustling of the animals in the bushes anymore.
Perhaps Gless had heard his calls and waited up for him? Cavall burst through the undergrowth to find a large, placid lake. Gless was nowhere in sight, and now Cavall couldn’t even be sure which direction to continue searching for him.
He lifted his nose, hoping to catch his brother’s scent again, but it was as though Gless hadn’t passed this way at all. Cavall was certain he had tracked Gless properly.
Cavall walked to the shore of the lake. Maybe his brother had gone for a swim? That would make his scent disappear. But why would Gless do that? And wouldn’t Cavall still be able to see him out on the lake, and hear him splashing? The water’s surface was so smooth, Cavall’s reflection stared back at him with perfect clarity. No, Gless hadn’t gone swimming.
Cavall was about to resume his search when his reflection rippled and shifted. His head became larger and his fur sleeker, and his long nose turned wide and lumpy. It took him a moment to realize that his reflection had become a horse’s face.
The image in the water rippled again and the horse’s head pushed through the surface. A powerful neck and body followed. Water cascaded down its black mane, and its onyx-black coat gleamed as the creature stepped onto the shore. It wore no reins or bridle like the horses at the castle, so Cavall was surprised to see a person mounted on its back—a woman with long, black hair as sleek and shiny as the horse’s. They stepped onto the shore as if they were one creature, the woman’s hand gripping the horse’s mane.
She had a long, slender face on a long, slender neck. Her hair flowed in waves down her back. Her blue dress shimmered as she and the horse turned. She seemed . . . familiar somehow. “Cavall,” she said, “it’s a pleasure to meet you. Merlin has told me about you.”
Cavall’s ears perked up. “Are you one of his fay friends?” he asked.
She nodded. “I am Vivian. The people of the castle call me the Lady of the Lake.” She patted the horse’s neck. “This is Meinir. She is a fay as well.”
“A fay horse?”
“A creature called a kelpie,” Vivian said. She swung over the horse’s side and dismounted in one fluid movement, like the water she had emerged from. Her feet didn’t even seem to touch the ground. “There are many different kinds of fay in our lands. Fay horses. Fay deer. Fay hounds.”
“I’d like to meet them.”
She smiled at him. “You are an eager one. Merlin was right. You will do well by our king.”
“Are you Arthur’s friend, too?”
“I am. Perhaps you have heard that Arthur possesses a great sword.”
“Yes, I’ve seen it,” Cavall answered. “He carries it on his belt, but I’ve never seen him use it.”
“The sword is named Excalibur, and it holds a great power. It gives Arthur the right to rule as king.”
“How does it do that?” Cavall asked. “Is it a magical sword?”
“Of a sort, yes.”
“Wait a second.” Cavall realized why her blue dress seemed so familiar. “I think I saw the picture of you with a sword,” he said. “It’s in the window near the Round Table.”
She folded her hands and smiled. “I was tasked with safeguarding this sword until I could bestow it upon a person I judged to be of noble spirit. I waited many years, many human lifetimes, until one day I found Arthur Pendragon standing at the edge of my lake. I could see that his spirit was noble and pure. And I thought, ‘Here is one who will wield Excalibur.’”
She had an odd, breathy way of speaking, quiet and commanding at the same time.
“How did you know he was noble and pure?”
She cocked her head, as if in thought. “Tell me, pup, do you believe you possess a pure and noble spirit?”
“I . . . don’t know,” Cavall answered slowly. She hadn’t really answered his question. “I hope I do.”
“Why?”
“Well . . . because I want others to like me,” he answered truthfully. “And I think both people and dogs like someone who is kind to them. After all, Arthur is kind to me, and I like him a lot.”
Vivian was silent. She stroked Meinir’s coat, as if contemplating Cavall’s an
swer. “You want Arthur to like you in return?”
Cavall wagged his tail. “Very much.”
“What would you do to make Arthur like you?”
“That’s the problem. I don’t know how, exactly. But Edelm said I should become a great dog, and Anwen said I should become a great hunter.”
“What if you could gain Arthur’s love by being unkind to others?”
Cavall scrunched his brow in confusion. “I don’t understand how that would work. Why would Arthur want me to be unkind?”
“Perhaps he wishes you to hurt his enemies.”
Cavall fidgeted with his paw. These questions made him uncomfortable. “I would protect him from his enemies, if he had any.”
“And if he asked you to hurt them before they could pose any danger?”
Cavall remembered Merlin’s words about danger and how to guard against it by gathering eyes. He wished he knew what Merlin meant then and why Vivian was asking him these strange questions now. But his mother had told him to do his best, even when he felt uncertain, so he answered the best he could.
“I don’t think I would hurt anyone if they weren’t trying to hurt me or someone I cared about,” he said at last.
“Even if Arthur told you to? Even if that was the best way to gain his love?”
Cavall thought. And thought some more. Arthur would never ask him to do something like that, would he? Hurt someone he didn’t like? No, he couldn’t imagine it. But if he did . . . if he did and it was the best way to get Arthur to love him . . .
“No,” he said at last, holding his head high even though he wasn’t sure it was the right answer. “I want Arthur to love me, and I want my new family to love me, too, but I . . . I don’t want to hurt anyone who has not tried to hurt me or someone else first.” He closed his eyes and waited for her to scold him for being a coward.
Instead, she chuckled. He cracked open one eye to see her smiling warmly at him. “Oh, Cavall,” she said, “I’m afraid I don’t have any spare swords at the moment, but I do have something else for you.”
She reached into one of her long sleeves. Cavall couldn’t see what she pulled out, because then she knelt down and fastened something to the leather of his collar. Whatever it was jingled softly.
“It’s a rune,” she said, “to protect against evil. It will quiver whenever danger is nearby.”
Cavall was confused. Wasn’t she going to tell him that he’d answered wrong, that a king’s dog should be willing to do whatever was asked of him? But then her words sank in. “Danger? What sort of danger?”
“People who have ill intentions or situations where you must be on your guard. Whenever something is likely to harm you or your friends. Then it will sing, like a hammer on an anvil, and this will let you know that you must be alert.”
“I don’t understand. Are you saying someone wants to hurt Arthur and my friends?”
Vivian stood and ran a soft hand over his head, rubbing his ears. “There is more evil in this world than you suspect, young pup. Though bear in mind, not everything that tries to harm you is evil.”
“I think if something tries to harm you, it must be evil.”
She lifted her chin and looked out over the lake, as though deep in thought. “You harm the deer, do you not? You chase them and bring them down with your teeth and, in the end, you kill them. Certainly the deer think that is evil, but would you call yourself evil?”
“No, of course not. Anwen says we hunt because we have to, because otherwise we would have nothing to eat.”
Vivian tilted her head back, as if he had just proven her point. “I only tell you these things,” Vivian said at last, “because it is important to understand why something wishes to harm you. Only then can you seek a proper response.”
“What is a proper response?” Cavall asked. He wagged his tail nervously and looked over at Meinir, who had not spoken but stood perfectly still, like the surface of the lake. She did not paw at the ground or snort or flip her mane over her neck like the horses Cavall knew. She simply watched him with eyes so glassy that Cavall could see his reflection in them. “What should I do if I know danger is near?”
Vivian strode over to Meinir and stroked the kelpie’s neck, long fingers running through short, velvety fur that caught the light filtering in through the trees. They were more alike, the two of them, than Vivian was to other people or Meinir was to other horses. Something about the way they moved without making a noise. Cavall noticed that the grass did not even bend under their feet.
“Likely you won’t know what to do,” Vivian said. “Not until you are face-to-face with danger. And then, how you react will depend on how much you know. You may remember what others have told you, what advice you have been given, and what you have been trained to do, but the real test comes when you must decide how to act.”
Meinir finally moved. She knelt down on her front legs, allowing Vivian to climb onto her back.
“Are you leaving?” Cavall asked.
“You did not come here to speak with me.” Vivian smiled as Meinir stood to her full height. The two of them cantered about and turned in a tight circle. “We may meet again, young pup, but for now, the sun is getting low and the shadows are becoming long. Find your brother and return to your party. You do not want to be in the forest after nightfall.”
Vivian did not dig her feet into the horse’s side the way the people in the castle did to their horses. Rather, Meinir seemed to know where to go. She reared back on her hind legs with a whinny like the call of a trumpet. Together, the two fay darted toward the lake. The water parted to welcome them back.
“Thank you!” Cavall called.
Vivian cast one last smile in his direction, and then she and Meinir disappeared into the water, leaving not even a ripple in their wake. Only after they’d gone did the birds begin chirping in the trees and the rustling of leaves began again. Cavall had not noticed how very quiet the clearing and the surrounding woods had been during Vivian’s visit.
He looked around the clearing. It felt like he had only been speaking with Vivian for a few minutes, and yet the shadows had grown long and the air felt chilled. The pack had set out from the castle early in the morning, and now it appeared to be late afternoon. How could that be? And how could he ever expect to find Gless if so much time had passed?
He decided to retrace his steps. With his nose to the ground, Cavall sniffed out the path he’d followed across the clearing, rambled back into the undergrowth, and left the strange lake behind.
Chapter 6
CAVALL WANDERED FOR THE BETTER PART OF half an hour before he picked up his brother’s scent again. It was faint under the smells of other furred and feathered creatures, but Gless had definitely been this way. He’d veered wildly off the path, leaving only the occasional broken twig or trampled patch of grass to indicate where he’d gone. From the way he’d wound this way and that, he’d lost track of his original prey. Perhaps he was searching for the party as well. Or maybe he’d already found them, and Cavall was now the only one lost. He should probably try to find his way back, but what if Gless was still out in the forest somewhere? What if Gless needed his help?
Vivian’s mysterious words came back to Cavall, about danger and good and evil and making his own decisions. Well, he had to make a choice, so he was going to keep searching for his brother. He couldn’t just leave Gless out here on the slim chance he’d already found his way back.
As Cavall traveled deeper into the forest, the trees grew thicker and closer to one another. The branches wove together to cast intricate patterns on the ground below, like spiderwebs made of shadows. The sun was sinking lower in the sky, and Vivian’s warning about being in the forest after dark came back to him.
“Gless! Are you out there?”
He heard nothing but the rustling of leaves and the chattering of animals in the trees.
Cavall continued his search.
He had his nose pressed to the ground and was deeply focused on catching
Gless’s scent when a sudden noise caught him by surprise. He lifted his head and looked around before realizing it was coming from him. The little stone around his neck that Vivian had given him was singing in a high-pitched tone. It buzzed against his throat, and he remembered her words of warning. The stone knew when danger was nearby. He wasn’t sure how a stone knew anything, but Vivian knew more than Cavall about these things.
He swung his head around, searching for any possible signs of danger. He couldn’t see or hear or smell anything out of place, so he continued along carefully, senses aware. You had to understand danger before you could act. Wasn’t that what Vivian had said?
He crept along until he rounded a wide tree. On the other side stood a little wooden cottage. A plume of blue smoke billowed through the chimney of the thatched roof, and yet Cavall couldn’t smell anything burning. Now that he stopped and listened, he heard soft voices coming from inside. Human voices. Curious, he crept near and peered in through one of the windows close to the ground.
The inside of the cottage contained a single room, with low ceiling beams where bundles of dried herbs and flowers hung. A small cot rested in one corner, a table with two chairs in another. The smoke Cavall had seen came from the fireplace, where a large cauldron bubbled over a steady flame. He could hear the liquid boiling but couldn’t smell what it might be.
A person crouched near the fire, tending it. Her hair was long, dark, curly, and abundant; Cavall could barely see her face through all the frizz. She prodded at the flames beneath the cauldron, and hummed to herself. In the far corner, Cavall saw another figure whose face was obscured in shadows.
“What song is that?” the shadowed person asked in a deep voice that sounded like a man’s.
The woman stopped humming and stood up. Cavall caught a glimpse of her face, rounded and smooth, with large eyes like a cat’s that gleamed in the dim firelight. She had a thin, straight nose and full lips that stood out against skin so pale that Cavall wondered if there was any color to it at all. She turned from the cauldron. “I used to sing that to you when you wouldn’t sleep,” she said in a voice like the depths of the forest—dark and mysterious. “It would always calm your crying, and I would rock you to sleep in my arms.”
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