by Paul Crilley
“For London!” came the reply.
And then they ran forward to meet the fey in the final battle.
Emily and William were huffing with exertion by the time they arrived at the exit to the tunnel. Their first sight of the city was the orange-tinged smoke that blanketed the London sky. It was a depressing sight, but at least it meant they would soon be able to see what their summoning had wrought.
They stepped out of the tunnel. Everything seemed the same. The line of fire still wavered and burned to the south. They could still hear the sounds of fighting coming from inside the enclosure.
Emily and Will exchanged puzzled looks. They’d done it, hadn’t they? They had summoned the Raven King. So why was the battle still going on? Why hadn’t it stopped?
A dull crump caught Emily’s attention, echoing through the night. Her eyes shifted to the thick wall of the tower enclosure at the bottom of Tower Hill. She stared, but couldn’t see anything that could have made the noise.
She heard it again. But this time she saw some stones falling to the ground. There was a brief pause, and then the wall burst outward in a huge explosion of bricks and flame. Smoke billowed from the hole, writhing up into the sky. Loose earth and shards of stone pattered to the ground all around them, even reaching Emily and William at the top of the hill.
A figure appeared through the smoke, emerging from the flame. It ducked through the hole, then stopped and surveyed its surroundings. Emily’s breath caught in her throat.
It was the Crimson Knight.
He looked up the hill and spotted them. He started running, his armor not slowing him down in the slightest.
His hounds burst out of the hole behind him, silent and deadly. They followed the knight as he hit the bottom of the hill, their long, powerful legs pushing them ahead of their master.
And if that wasn’t enough, a figure of flame stooped through the hole in the wall, illuminating the thick smoke like lightning flickering inside a cloud. Brick and stone melted beneath his touch. He straightened up and walked purposefully toward them.
Katerina was trying her best to fight her way through the fey so she could follow the Crimson Knight. Jack and the others were doing the same, everyone focusing on one thing— protecting Emily and William.
But there were just too many fey. Reinforcements had arrived, streaming through the gate to join the fight. Katerina’s followers were being cut to shreds. She sobbed in frustration, watching as the Fire King sent fireballs into the distant wall of the fort. One, two, and then a third that punched through the stones like a fist through paper.
She had to get to them. Had to stop the Fire King from succeeding. The fate of everything hung in the balance.
And then Katerina started to feel strange.
Something was washing through her, filling her with a crackling energy. She shuddered, taking a deep breath. She dropped her sword, raised her hands to her eyes. Blue lightning flickered across her skin, raised the hair on her arms. The energy pushed into her, pushed up against her skin, her bones, filling every crevice of her being until she felt as though she would explode. And still it kept coming. More and more. She was aware of people and fey stumbling back, staring at her in horror. Lightning crackled between her hands, penetrating the ground, dancing across the grass, leaving scorched trails in its wake.
What was happening to her? Was it some sort of weapon of Kelindria’s?
But then a voice spoke inside her head.
Greetings, my Raven Queen. The voice was rich, powerful, yet filled with amusement.
Raven Queen? What …? Katerina’s thoughts sped through all possible conclusions, arriving at the only one that made sense.
“Me?”
Indeed.
“But I thought it was supposed to be a King?”
Why? Do you not think a woman can hold such power? I’ll wager a woman would never have forsaken my true name to come up with something so … theatrical.
A strange calm descended on Katerina. “What is your true name?”
I am the Pendragon, the Protector of London. One of the Protectors of the Isles.
“And who am I?”
You are my vessel. My chosen bloodline. Through you I wield my power. If you accept.
Katerina was dimly aware of Kelindria ordering a group of Tuatha to attack. They approached reluctantly. She could sense their fear. And rightly so. As they drew close, the lightning burst out of her, stabbing into their bodies, disintegrating them in an instant.
Katerina’s eyes shifted to Tower Hill.
Do you accept my power? asked the Pendragon.
“What?” Katerina was confused. She thought she already had. She had to get over to the hill. Had to stop the Fire King from getting Emily and William.
You have not yet accepted. Watch, said the voice.
Images flashed through Katerina’s head. Images of her ancestors, of those who had chosen to summon the power of the Pendragon. Arthur. Bran. Lud. And many others.
She saw their lives.
She saw their deaths.
Katerina didn’t hesitate. She nodded.
“I accept.”
Emily and William had nowhere to go. The tunnel had closed up behind them while they were watching the wall explode. And now the hounds were racing toward them, already halfway up the slope. Behind them came the knight, and behind him, the Fire King.
All was lost.
Emily knew that. They were going to die. There was no chance they could outrun those dogs. They would leap upon their backs and tear them apart.
And Emily, for one, would rather face her death head-on.
She reached out and took hold of Will’s hand. After all they had been through, for it to end like this. She sighed, glancing at her brother. His eyes were wide, scared. She was sure hers were as well, because she was absolutely terrified.
But at least they were together.
She smiled weakly and squeezed his hand, then turned to face her fate.
There was something odd happening within the walls of the Tower of London. She could see a strange blue light shining up against the clouds, overpowering the orange and red light of the fires.
As she watched, a figure floated slowly up into the air. It was surrounded by a nimbus of blue light. Lightning crackled out from the figure, a spidery network of flickering luminescence that stabbed at the ground, flickered into the sky.
The figure started to move toward them, arms outstretched. What now? thought Emily, watching it approach.
It was only when the figure cleared the walls that Emily realized it was Katerina.
“No,” she whispered.
But it was Katerina. She floated toward them, her eyes blazing with blue light. She turned her attention to the hounds that were almost upon Emily and Will and pointed. Lightning flickered from her fingers, and the hounds burst apart into nothing. The Crimson Knight whirled around. He pulled out his mace and swung it in circles.
Another gesture, another crackle of lightning, and he was gone. All that remained was a puddle of melted metal, ticking and cooling in the night air.
Katerina turned to face the Fire King just as a wall of fire rushed toward her and wrapped around her body.
Emily could just see her figure through the flames. She was still floating in the air, arms raised out to her sides. The Fire King stalked toward her. The flames pouring from his hands became a stream of molten lava, pouring into and strengthening the flames that surrounded her. Emily saw the fires along the tower wall lower slightly, and she realized that the Fire King was pulling his energy out of his salamanders and pumping it all into Katerina.
And still she floated, doing nothing to defend herself.
The Fire King kept coming, his eyes blazing with hatred, his mouth an open pit into the furnace of hell itself. Heat waves distorted the air around them.
Finally, the Fire King had no more. The flames along the wall winked out. He lowered his arms and stood before Katerina. By his stance, Emily coul
d see he thought Katerina defeated.
The white-hot flames that surrounded Katerina simply winked out, leaving burning afterimages dancing before Emily’s eyes. Katerina stood tall, untouched by the flames.
When the Fire King saw this, he tilted his head back, releasing a scream of fury. Flames shot from his mouth and soared up into the clouds.
Katerina floated forward and reached out with her finger. She touched the Fire King lightly on the chest.
He exploded, bursting into tiny fragments of flame. He lit up the sky, tiny red stars shooting upward in all directions, then slowly fading and blinking out into nothingness like embers from a fire. Smoke drifted on the hot breeze, and for a moment, Emily thought she could see the shape of the Fire King’s face outlined against the sky. Then the wind blew the smoke apart, dispersing it across the city.
The Fire King was dead.
Katerina’s head dropped. She turned to Emily and William and smiled. Then the blue light faded, and she dropped to the ground.
Emily rushed forward, dropping to her knees next to the prone figure. She took hold of Katerina’s hand, wincing at the heat of her skin. She was burning hot. She felt as though she should be on fire herself.
“Katerina,” she said urgently.
Katerina’s eyes flickered open. “Is the Fire King gone?”
Emily nodded. “He’s gone. You did it.”
Will knelt down on the other side. He looked confused. “I don’t understand,” he said. “You were the Raven King?”
“Raven Queen,” Katerina corrected weakly. “And yes. It was me. Or rather, my bloodline.”
“What happens now?” asked Emily. “What do we do? Should we take you somewhere?”
“No. I’m dying, Emily.”
“What? No! You can’t die,” said William. “That’s not fair. Not after what you did.”
“It’s not meant to be fair. It’s just the way it is. A human body can’t contain the power of the Pendragon. We’re not built for it. We can only channel the power and do what
must be done before it burns us to nothing.”
“But it’s not fair!”
“It was my choice, Will. The Pendragon spoke to me. She asked if I was willing. I knew the consequences.” She coughed. “I think it’s a pretty good trade, don’t you? One life for the whole of Britain.”
She smiled at them both, then closed her eyes.
And so the Raven Queen, the Pendragon, the Protector of the Isles, died.
Emily and William stood up. As they stared down at Katerina’s body, it shimmered with a white light. There was a bright flash, and then her body was no longer there.
In its place was a black raven. The raven tilted its head and cawed, then took to the air and flew toward the Tower of London. As it approached the tower, other black ravens leapt from the battlements, cawing their greeting. The birds circled in the night sky, then banked in the air and landed upon the tower.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Epilogue
Four days later, Emily, William, Jack, Corrigan, and Christopher Wren stood before the Faerie Tree in Hyde Park.
Puck had joined them, as well. After Katerina had become theRaven Queen, Kelindria had fled the field of battle. When the fey saw their leader running, they had wisely chosen to do the same.
The fire was over now. Once the Fire King had been vanquished, the flames could be battled as a normal blaze. Even so, it had been a close thing. For three days the Great Fire of London burned. Most of old London City—the part surrounded by the ancient Roman wall—had burned to the ground. But the people of London had finally managed to stop it there.
Yet their victory felt hollow. Poor Katerina, thought Emily. She had given her life to protect them, to stop the fire from destroying Britain. She had done so willingly, even though she’d had no idea she was of the Pendragon bloodline. And yet it made a kind of sense. Merlin had said the Raven King— Emily corrected herself—the Raven Queen, would be drawn to the conflicts within the city. And that was certainly true of Katerina. She had spent most of her life fighting the fey. She had been drawn into the battle from the very beginning. Her blood had known who she was, where she had to be.
“What now?” she asked Merlin.
“Now we rebuild the Invisible Order,” he said. He nodded at Wren. “Wren has agreed to join us. And we have a steady stream of volunteers from Katerina’s followers. A new generation to join our ranks.”
Emily took the two keys from her pocket. She handed one to Wren. “This is for you. You’re supposed to hide it for me to find in my time. The first part of the key—”
“Hold.” Merlin raised a hand. “Do not tell him. He will do as he will, and you will learn of it when it is your time.”
Emily nodded and handed the second key to Merlin. He took it from her and moved the little branches around, tweaking it until he was happy. Then he gave it back to Emily.
“There you go. That will take you where you’re meant to be.”
“Thank you.”
“Why did she turn into a raven?” asked William.
“You must have heard the legend?” said Merlin. “It is said that as long as there are ravens at the Tower of London, then Britain will be protected. I think that grew out of the Raven King myth.”
“Is it true?”
“I’m not sure. But the ravens that live at the tower are all of the Pendragon bloodline. That is what becomes of them after they wield the power. They do not die. They live on as watchers.”
William nodded. Emily turned and put the key into the depression in the tree. It slid neatly into place. The gateway stretched and widened within the tree trunk. The last time she had entered this gate, she had seen lines of Tuatha getting ready to invade London. This time all she could see was a silvery mist.
“At least we know the name the Pendragon bloodline goes under,” she said to Merlin. “If we need it again, all we have to do is find someone called Francesca.”
They turned toward the gate.
“Oh,” said Puck. “No, you’ve got that wrong.”
Emily paused. “What?”
“Katerina Francesca wasn’t her real name. It was just something she called herself. She liked the sound of it. Said it made her feel exotic, more than she really was.”
“So what was her real name?” “Ravenhill,” said Puck. “Her name was Katherine
“Ravenhill,” said Puck. “Her name was Katherine Ravenhill.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Paul Crilley was born in Scotland and moved to South Africa when he was eight years old. He was rather disappointed to find out that Africa was not at all like the Tarzan movies he watched on Sunday afternoons and that he would not, in fact, have elephants and lions strolling through his backyard. He now lives in a small village on the east coast with his family, six cats, and one dog. When he is not writing, he can be found chasing away the monkeys that like to steal food from his kitchen. You can visit him online at www.paulcrilley.com.