He squeezed my fingers where our hands lay entwined on the grass. “But the dragon cannot be allowed to remain in the mortal world. It would cause far too much havoc.”
I nodded, though I don’t think he saw it, his gaze was locked somewhere off in the distance.
“I’ve searched and searched for a way to break the spell, but I don’t think it can be done. Not from this world anyway. And – and I’m not sure it’s such a great idea anyway.”
Lance sighed. “Merlin and Arthur have been convinced of the same thing for a while. There is no place for magic in your world anymore. I think even the Fair Folk are starting to see that too. Besides, they know the spell can’t hold forever and time is of no matter to them. They can wait a thousand years for the spell to break and for them nothing will have changed.”
“But – time matters for me.” I tried to keep my voice from cracking, but I failed miserably. “I can’t wait around for a thousand years.”
Lance was suddenly on his feet, striding away from me, his hands in his hair. I could see his shoulders trembling as he fought to control himself. In a way I wished he’d just let it go. Let his emotions out, but it wasn’t who he was. It never would be.
“Lance?” He didn’t turn around. “Lancelot!”
He spun back towards me and I rose to meet him in the middle of the clearing. The grim look was back on his face, the one that made him seem so much older than he was.
“I hoped - but maybe I was foolish to hope – but I hoped nonetheless, that one day we would find a way to be together, properly.” He reached out and caught my fingers in his. “How is it fair that some people get a lifetime together, and yet we are cursed to only have these brief moments?”
I forced a bitter little laugh. “Because fate hates me.” But that wasn’t strictly true. Fate may have been intent on keeping Lancelot and I apart, but it had also brought us together. No matter how short our time together had been, I wouldn’t have changed it for the world. What was the old quote? ‘Better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all’. I told Lance that and he smiled his own forced smile.
“I would not change a single second of the time I’ve had with you, Caronwyn Pendragon. Not one second. I just wish it were longer.”
“But we’ll still have this. Even if I can’t bring you through, Merlin will always be able to-“
“No.” Lance cut me off. “Once this is all over, this will stop too. It has too.”
“What? Why? No.”
He smiled again at the force of my tone. “I will not let you do that, Cariad. I will not let you dwell on a dream that will never happen. Once the dragon is dealt with I will leave you be. You won’t need me, or Merlin, any longer.”
I felt as though my heart was shattering into a million tiny pieces. I didn’t know how I would ever put them back together again. “I will always need you.”
He cupped my face in both hands, stroking his thumbs over my cheeks. “My dear, sweet, Cariad. I’m not sure you will ever realise how much I love you. But I think the time has come for goodbye.”
“No. Not goodbye. Not yet. The dragon may not allow us to send it back to Avalon. I may have to kill it. And then, then I can use the Bough.”
I knew he was trying to pacify me when he nodded. In his heart he had already said goodbye to me. He knew that I would choose to save the dragon if I could. He knew I would sacrifice us for the safety of our world. And he didn’t blame me for it, because he would do exactly the same thing.
I felt something tug at me and Lancelot smiled sadly. “It’s time to go.”
“No.” I clung to him desperately. Maybe if I just never woke up, I would never have to leave him.
With his hands still cupping my face he dipped his head and kissed me. There was everything in that single kiss. Over a thousand years of waiting, hoping and, ultimately, losing. I could never express what I felt in that moment as I felt him slip away from me, as I woke up back in my own bed, alone, with the smell of metal polish lingering around me and the feel of his lips still on mine. And I knew, as I opened my eyes to a pillow soaked with tears, that I would never see him again, not even in my dreams.
Chapter Twenty-one
Dad found me the next morning curled up in my bed, sobbing like I would never stop. He didn’t know what to do, so he called Sam. When she showed up at the door with Wyn and Percy in tow, Dad almost didn’t let them in, but Wyn didn’t wait for an invite, pushing Dad aside and taking the stairs to my room four at a time.
I barely lifted my head as he flung open the door, but he knew immediately what had happened. He seemed almost relieved it wasn’t something worse.
Sam pushed him aside and crawled onto my bed, tugging me into her arms. I dissolved again. She rocked me gently, like a mother with a fretful child, whilst Wyn and Percy found themselves places to wait it out. Neither of them knew how to deal with a crying woman.
Dad brought endless cups of tea, looking almost as helpless as Wyn and Percy, but at least they had some idea what was going on. Dad was completely bewildered, and no one took the time to explain it to him. The day drifted into night, and even when the crying stopped I lay comatose on my bed, not speaking or moving for hours at a time. Somewhere deep in my mind I knew I had to snap out of it, but I couldn’t find the energy. After everything Lance and I had been through, I had always clung to the hope that we would be reunited someday. It had made it seem worth it. Now I didn’t know if I had the strength left in me to fight.
Wyn let it go on for close to 24 hours and then he put a stop to it. I lay curled under the covers, ignoring the half-whispered conversation between Percy and Sam about trying to get me to eat, though I suspected Percy was more concerned with his own stomach than mine. Wyn yanked the covers back, dumping them on the floor, and physically hauled me into a sitting position.
“You don’t have time for this, Cara.” He told me firmly. “The dragon won’t wait, or go easy on you because you’ve lost Lancelot. Don’t let this sacrifice be for nothing. Make sure it’s worth it.”
He manhandled me into the bathroom, ignoring Sam begging him to go easy on me, turned on the cold tap in the shower and dumped me into the bath.
I shrieked as the icy cold water hit me, drenching my nightshirt and then threw every swearword I could think of at Wyn.
He crossed his arms over his chest and took it. “Get it out of your system now. We have work to do, and I’m not going to baby you.”
“Baby me?” I stood up, my furious attitude ruined by having to grab for the shower rail to keep from slipping on the bottom of the bath. “Baby me?” My voice rose, echoing off the tiled walls.
“Yes, baby you. You are the Last Pendragon, not some lovesick damsel. Time you started acting like it.”
I threw a few more choice swearwords at him, but he just rolled his eyes.
“I know you miss him, Cara. I can’t imagine how hard this is for you. But you made this choice, and now you need to see it through. Otherwise you might as well just let the dragon kill you. And I can’t let that happen.” He turned off the water and I stood there shivering.
Right at that moment I hated him with every fibre of my being, but I also knew he was right. I didn’t have time for a break down. Maybe later.
He handed me a towel. “Now come on. Let’s get training.”
And I tried. I trained with Wyn and Percy as much as I could in the time we had left, but my heart wasn’t in it. I went through the motions, burying all my emotions somewhere deep inside.
At night I would sit and stare at the apple branch resting on my window sill. Sometimes it seemed to call to me, telling me to use it. To open that pathway and bring Lance through into my arms. But I resisted.
St George’s Day dawned bright and cold. Spring was finally nudging winter out for good, but the warm weather was yet to kick in. I didn’t mind the cold. I was just glad it wasn’t raining.
Still in the numb daze I’d been in since I’d said goodbye to Lance I dresse
d and took the branch off the window sill and tucked it carefully into my backpack. I didn’t really need to be careful, it hadn’t so much as lost a single petal since I’d brought it home.
Dad sat at the kitchen table when I came down and he watched me carefully as I made a cup of tea and a slice of toast. I wasn’t hungry, but I knew I had to eat.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on, Cara?”
I kept my back to him, busying myself buttering the toast. “I don’t know what you mean.” We’d agreed, Wyn and I, that it was best not to tell my Dad about what might well happen in London. He would only worry. And if I didn’t make it home, he’d know soon enough what had happened. The whole world might know soon enough.
“I’m not stupid, Cara. You’ve been so sad these last few days. And today – well – you look like you’re going to your own execution.”
I winced at his choice of words. “It’s all fine, Dad. Honestly. Just – would you do me one favour?”
For a moment I thought he was going to refuse, but then I heard the quiet assent from behind me.
I finally turned to face him. “Would you go and visit Mum this morning. Please. For me.”
I didn’t know if she would know what was happening today. She’d only really ever had visions of my confrontation with Morgana, the visions that had tormented her for years and led to her being hospitalised, but with my life being on the line yet again, I didn’t know if she would have some sense of it.
Dad didn’t look happy. “Now, come on, Cara. You know how hard it is for me to visit your Mum.”
“But she’s getting better now. Honestly. Please, Dad. Just do this one thing for me.”
Finally he nodded, a short, curt nod, and I knew he still wasn’t all that happy about it.
I abandoned my uneaten toast and my now over brewed cup of tea and dropped a kiss on the top of Dad’s head as I walked past.
“I love you, Dad.”
The school coach pulled into the huge car park at the edge of Hyde Park and everyone emptied out, chattering and gossiping.
They’d relaxed the school uniform rule for the two days we were to be in London, so whilst the boys had stuck to their own uniform of jeans and t-shirts, the girls had taken the chance to show off as much as possible and there were more than a few impossibly short skirts, despite the cold weather. I’d stuck to jeans though, I didn’t much fancy flashing my knickers if I ended up facing the dragon.
The play wasn’t set to start until sunset so the school had decided make as much as they could out of the time in London and we were set to do some cultural sightseeing.
Half the class were going down river to the Tower of London, but I’d signed myself up to visit the Houses of Parliament. Not only did I not particularly want to see the Tower again, seeing as the last time I’d been there I’d stolen an exhibit, but Westminster was where I’d seen the dragon.
As we crossed the park opposite I couldn’t help counting the St George’s flags strung outside pubs and in a few office windows. The flag, a massive red cross on a field of white, had always made me feel a little proud – I was a bit patriotic at heart – but today it sent a small thrill of fear through me.
I tried to bury it and keep my eyes on Anderson’s back, walking in front of me. Unsurprisingly Mackay led the group I was a part of, and I could feel his eyes on me the whole time.
Could he see how nervous I was? Did he wonder why?
It was a glorious spring day, the kind we sometimes got that made living in England worthwhile. The sun was out, the sky a pure cornflower blue save for a collection of little cotton wool ball clouds, and as the day progressed it grew warmer, a light breeze ruffling my hair.
I tried not to look around for Wyn and Percy. They’d been following the coach in their car, but I had no idea if they’d kept up with us. I knew that no matter what they’d be there if I needed them. I had faith in them.
As we approached the security checks outside Parliament I had a sudden flash of fear.
Excalibur was strapped at my hip and so far the magic that kept it hidden had been working – not even Sam had looked at it twice. But I didn’t know if the magic could fool a metal detector.
I lingered at the back of the group, watching the others pass through without problems, but I knew I couldn’t delay forever. Eventually I was the only one left, and the rest of the class stood watching me impatiently.
“Come on, Cara,” Mackay suppressed a smile and one again I was forced to wonder how much the Order knew about me. “Stop wasting time.”
I took a deep breath and stepped through the metal archway. Immediately alarms blared and the red lights above the machine flashed on. More than a few other tourists looked around for the source of the disturbance.
“Please step over here, Miss.”
Parliament was one of only a handful of places where the police carried guns and I couldn’t take my eyes off them as the female officer drew me to one side.
A mixture of laughs and groans rose from the group.
“Trust her to be the one,” Rebecca drawled from beside Anderson.
I glowered her way as the officer had me spread my legs and arms.
She waved a hand-held sensor down my sides and it went crazy as it passed over Excalibur. The look she gave me was not impressed but I tried my best to keep my expression innocent.
I had no idea how the magic around Excalibur worked, but when she put down the sensor and patted me down her hands passed straight through it as though the sword wasn’t even there. She tried a few more times with the handheld sensor and patted me down again. Eventually they had no choice but to assume the machines were malfunctioning.
She gave a helpless shrug to her fellow officers and waved me through.
When I looked back I could see them all checking over the equipment, and I smiled to myself. In the battle of magic vs technology, magic-1, technology-0.
Right after all the high-tech security we walked straight into history. Or so it felt.
Wide doors opened into an entrance hall dominated by a massive stained glass window. With the spring sun shining through it, it was breath-taking.
Directly to our left, down a set of wide, shallow steps, was Westminster Hall, the oldest part of the Palace of Westminster. The roof arched so far overhead I had to crane my neck right back to look at it. Supposedly there wasn’t a single bolt or screw holding it in place, but it was so far up it was impossible to tell. Below it many of the giant flagstones were engraved or set with plaques, commemorating great historic events that had taken place inside the hall, like the sentencing and execution of Guy Fawkes.
It wasn’t as old as Camelot, but it came closer than any other building in the UK. The magic in my blood had always given me a different sense of time to most people, and it was singing. There was so much history there I could almost see it.
Then my blood ran cold.
The Hall was a mass of milling tourists, reading the plaques and engravings, but one person wasn’t reading. Instead he stood staring up at us, and when I looked his way our eyes locked. It was Thomas from the Order.
A slow smile appeared on his face, whilst mine turned white.
What was he doing there? It couldn’t be a coincidence.
I turned towards Mackay and he winked at me.
Suddenly everything felt wrong. As I glanced around I saw more and more familiar faces. Almost the entire Order was there, most of them carrying cameras and acting like tourists but I recognised them none the less.
I wanted to grab Mackay and force him to tell me what was going on, but we were in the middle of the Houses of Parliament, surrounded by people, and our guide had just arrived.
The rest of the group turned to follow him immediately, but I hung back and Sam dropped back to speak to me.
“What’s wrong?” She asked under her breath.
I glanced at the back of Mackay’s head to make sure he wasn’t listening. “The Order is here.”
“Her
e? What? Why?”
“I don’t know.” That wasn’t strictly true. I didn’t know for sure, but I had a horrible sneaking suspicion. I just couldn’t figure out how.
At the front of the group the guide was telling some long involved story about a painting. We’d followed a long hallway lined with paintings and statues and now stood in a central lobby with four halls leading off it. One I knew led to the House of Commons, the other to the House of Lords. As for the third, I had no idea; private offices and the Member’s Terrace most likely.
Mackay caught my eye and for a moment I thought I was going to be in trouble for not paying attention, but then he nodded over my shoulder and I turned to find Thomas stood behind me.
“Caronwyn.”
I glowered at him. “What the hell are you doing here?”
He laughed. “Oh dear. Don’t you young people pay any attention to politics or current events? You’ll have to pay closer attention when you’re ruling.”
“I’m not going to- “
He cut me off. “I work here. I’m the Deputy Prime Minster.”
I’d never paid much attention it’s true, but it explained why there had always been something familiar about him. It also explained a lot of funny looks being sent our way. I guessed the Deputy Prime Minster didn’t normally stop and talk to school kids. But I still didn’t quite believe it.
“You’re…”
“We’re all involved in high levels of government or business. It’s necessary if we are to influence people when the time is right.”
It made sense. It explained how they’d been able to track me down in the first place. How they’d been able to orchestrate the whole episode with Lancelot’s tomb.
Thomas lent in towards me then, his expression suddenly serious. “I just wanted to say, good luck.”
He knew. He definitely knew. I didn’t know how or why, but he knew the dragon was going to be there that day.
“How-“
He smiled. “My dear girl. My Order has waited too long for a Pendragon with enough magic to reveal themselves. Did you think we’d leave anything to chance?”
The Forever Queen (Pendragon Book 2) Page 18