And with that cryptic comment, he shooed the boys out of his study, commanding them to get some rest and let him handle everything for now. “Ailis, not you. The king wants to ask you a few questions further, if you don’t mind….”
The last view they had of Ailis was as Merlin propelled her away from them, by means of one firm hand on her shoulder, down the hall in the opposite direction.
There was no way—after all that—that sleep would be possible. Without discussion, the two remaining travelers found themselves sitting in the barn, in a stall that was currently without an equine occupant. The stable had the added advantage of being out of the way of the chaos that once again seemed to be gripping Camelot.
“You didn’t say anything to Merlin about…about what happened,” Gerard said. “About agreeing to stay with Morgain, in the fortress.”
“Neither did you.” Newt poked at the straw with one finger, idly.
“No, I didn’t. It didn’t…it didn’t seem real, everything that happened there. It doesn’t seem real now—like that was all a dream. Everything up until then? Real. Sir Caedor’s death. Real. The boat was far too real. But the moment we got to the fortress…it was like dream-time.” Gerard turned to Newt. “What do you think?”
“It was real. It was all real.”
“Of course it was. I meant—”
“I know what you meant. And it all felt real to me. Every minute.” He paused. “Be thankful, if it’s blurred for you.”
“Yeah.” Gerard shoved the straw with his foot, then blurted out, “Something’s bothering you.”
“Me?” Newt looked up, an innocent expression coming over his face.
“Yes, you. Something more than the fact that we’ve got to ride out tomorrow morning with half a dozen knights who’re probably more like Sir Caedor than we would choose.”
“You’re getting smarter,” Newt said, dropping the “dumb stable-boy” expression.
“You’re getting more evasive. Is it still about all the magic stuff?”
Newt sighed, resigned to finally having this conversation. “A little. Not the magic itself, but…”
“You might as well tell me. Ailis can attest to the fact that I can be really stubborn once I start digging at something.”
“It’s not magic. It’s what magic does to people.” The words came out of his mouth as though they were being pulled from him, one letter at a time. “When I was a little kid…Ger…we have to watch Ailis.”
“Watch her? Why? You think that Morgain might try something again?”
“I think…I think we keep getting away too easily. That portal we used to get back from the Orkneys—Ailis says she made it. But how? She says she can’t do it now. Something in the fortress spoke to her, showed her how…but what if it actually was Morgain? Or, worse yet, the shadow-figure? What if they sent us back here and let Ailis think she did it on her own?”
“Why would they do that?”
“Why did Morgain agree to let us stay? Why did she take Ailis in the first place? It’s all a long, convoluted plot to Morgain, you know that. Everything she does, it’s all aimed at striking back at Arthur—the way we all wanted to stay there, even after just a few minutes? Think about it, Ger! Ailis was there so long, and was so enamored of that woman, and what she could do—” He stopped cold, and stared at his friend with a sudden thought. “Ger, what if Morgain didn’t come to the castle to spy on Arthur at all? What if the goal was Ailis all along?”
“That’s impossible. How? And why would Morgain care about one girl, even if she does have some magic? Ailis wouldn’t ever endanger any of us.”
“She might not be aware of it. She might not even be…Argh. I don’t know.” Newt put his head down in his hands, covering his face and shuddering like a horse shaking off flies.
Gerard was starting to follow the threads of Newt’s thoughts, and he didn’t like them at all. “You think they did something to her?”
“I think—I know that magic is addictive—appealing. We both felt that. Morgain…she can twist your mind. I know that I’d feel better if Merlin was keeping a close eye on Ailis, instead of sending her away.”
“He’s not sending her away. You heard him, we earned this spot, all three of us. Together.”
When he saw that Newt still wasn’t convinced, he went on. “We’ll take care of her. Think about it, Newt. What better place to send someone who might be magic than into the company of half a dozen hardheaded knights who don’t use magic—don’t have any interest in magic—with her two best friends who know what to look for?”
Newt kept his face in his hands, but his shoulders relaxed a notch.
“We’ll keep her safe, Newt. No matter what. That’s what we did in the fortress. That’s why Merlin’s sending her with us. So we can keep her safe.
“And who knows,” he said, suddenly thinking of it. “Maybe her magic, whatever it is, will help us find the Grail!”
They looked at each other, the same thought suddenly in their minds.
Newt spoke it for both of them. “And then Morgain—and the shadow-figure—will know where it is. Even if she wanted Ailis this go-around, more than any strike at Arthur, she was dead-serious about the Grail and what it meant to her. And we have no idea what it really means to the shadow-figure. Merlin has to—”
“Merlin has thought of it already.”
Neither boy had heard the enchanter join them, and they jumped guiltily as he spoke, stammering their apologies.
“Enough already. If you’re going to be fools enough to think I didn’t know something like this was happening…had happened…was going to happen, then you think I’m even more of a doddering old fool than I actually am.”
“Then why?” Gerard asked.
“Because it might not have. It still may not have. Ailis is a good girl, a wise girl, with a smart head on her shoulders and brave and loyal friends at her side. I did not lie—she has earned her place on this fool Quest, despite her gender. Were there not women who followed the Christ when he bled into this cup? Who is to say a woman is not the one to find it? In that, Morgain may be entirely correct.”
“You want to use her, too. To find the Grail.” Newt’s tone was more of an accusation than was safe, speaking to an enchanter, but Merlin ignored it.
“Once we have the Grail, we will be in a better position to protect her—and any others who may be like her—from Morgain’s reach. Camelot is safe. Ailis is safe. Arthur’s kingship is safe. Everyone’s happy, then,” Merlin said.
If so, Newt wondered, why didn’t any of them look particularly happy?
TWENTY-FOUR
“This,” Gerard said in satisfaction. “Now this is how you’re supposed to set off on a Quest!”
They were standing by their horses, waiting for the signal to mount. Around them, pennants snapped in the light breeze, and sunlight glimmered on the metal points of spears, catching highlights in the armor of the knights around them. Ailis was stroking the nose of the sturdy gelding she had been given. She was wearing trousers under her skirt, for easier riding astride, but her hair was tied up in her usual braid, the feather fastened to the end where it draped over her shoulder with a smaller version of the bands the boys wore on their arms. The queen had given it to her that morning, without ceremony, without words, but with a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek for luck.
Ailis had to admit that Guinevere was quite sweet. No spine, no fire in her soul, but she took the beauty and the fortune that had been given to her and made the best of it. Ailis could see now that if you did the most with what you were given, you should feel no regret.
Ailis still didn’t know what she had been given. She could see it in Gerard, how he stood a little taller, gave his opinion more clearly now. The death of Sir Caedor had dulled some of his shine, but tempered him at the same time, like a blade dipped in fire for the final proving before being taken into battle.
Newt, on the other hand, still seemed the same as ever. Deeper, maybe. He held
himself more still, as though waiting for some sound only he would hear. She wondered what his change would be, then shook off that mood with an effort. Let go of the past, she could hear Merlin advising her. Forget what Morgain taught you…for now. Wait. Grow stronger before you take too much onto yourself.
“Looking forward to sleeping under a canopy?” she asked her friends, banishing thoughtfulness with teasing.
“Hah. Odds are, we’ll be rolling our blankets under a tree somewhere, cursing the roots, same as always,” Newt said. “Canopies are for knights and soft-skinned castle-dwellers.”
“Certainly you’re neither,” Gerard said in return. “In fact, I think I heard someone saying they planned to use you for target practice, as your hide is so tough arrows will bounce right back to the archer.”
“Funny.”
Ailis leaned against her gelding, hearing it whiffle gently under her touch, and soaked in the strange normality of it all, the banter between her friends, the familiar sounds and smells of Camelot, even the bawling of a guardsman trying to maintain some sort of control over the chaos. The days spent with Morgain seemed so distant, now. Merlin had warned her about that; it wasn’t magic, exactly, what had happened to her, but Morgain had been influencing her, trying to bring her over to the sorceress’s side of things. Don’t rush into magic, no matter how appealing it may seem.
Ailis had nodded when he said that, to show that she understood. It was Merlin who hadn’t understood, though. She had known all along that Morgain was playing her. That didn’t make what she learned any less true. It didn’t make the fact that Morgain had protected her—and her friends—any less courageous.
It absolutely did not make her want to wait, to claim the strength she could now feel deep inside herself.
She reached up to touch the feather, smiling as she felt the familiar warmth of it in her fingers.
It didn’t change the fact that she had felt the rise of something greater inside her. Something wonderful. Something magical. Something that was neither Merlin nor Morgain, but spoke directly to her. Magic. It was in her, too.
“You nervous?” Newt asked her, looking around at the insanity surrounding them.
“Terrified,” she said, and smiled brilliantly at him until even his usual worried scowl relented, and he smiled back.
“Mount up!” came the call, and, anticipating the adventure to come, the three of them did.
About the Author
LAURA ANNE GILMAN is the author of more than twenty-five short stories and three nonfiction books for teenagers. She also edited two anthologies—OTHERWERE and TREACHERY AND TREASON—and is currently writing the bestselling Retrievers fantasy series.
You can visit her online at www.sff.net/people/lauraanne.gilman
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
Credits
Cover © 2006 Parachute Publishing, L.L.C.
Cover art © 2006 by Don Seegmiller
Copyright
GRAIL QUEST #2: MORGAIN’S REVENGE. Copyright © 2006 Parachute Publishing, L.L.C. Cover Copyright © 2006 Parachute Publishing, L.L.C. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Adobe Digital Edition March 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-190859-0
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