Children of Avalon

by Meredith Bond

  She flexed her hands, slowly reaching forward. But Dylan backed away from her.

  Holding the chalice straight out in his shaking hands, he said, “Now, you will get what you deserve.”

  Yes, now she would. She deserved that chalice. It was hers; she needed it.

  Dylan’s hands began to shake even more violently. “Come on, chalice, do what it is you were meant to do!”

  Nimuë took a step closer, forcing a reassuring smile on to her face. She caught the boy’s eyes with her own. “Give it to me, Dylan.”

  “No! Why isn’t it working?” He shook the cup, tearing his gaze from hers. Oh yes, he was strong, wasn’t he? Few could break the lock of her eyes.

  He concentrated on the chalice, clearly willing it to do something. But the cup just rested in his trembling hands, doing nothing.

  Nimuë began to laugh again. “You poor boy. You don’t know what it is you hold and you don’t know how to use it either. Give it to me. I will take proper care of it. I know the secrets of Merlin’s chalice.” She was lying. She had no more idea how to get the magic from this cup than Dylan did, but she certainly had a great deal more experience on which to draw in order to find out. “You don’t know what you’re doing, Dylan. It is clear. You know nothing. You are nothing. You do not deserve such power. You do not deserve that cup.”

  “No. You will never have it!”

  “Child...” She reached out once again, coming so close her fingers hurt with the magic.

  “Scai, Bridget!”

  Nimuë could not believe her eyes when he drew back his arm and threw the precious chalice from the room as if it were nothing but a piece of garbage.

  She watched it disappear into the church and heard it clatter to the ground. There was no way she could go after it, not with those girls and Sir Dagonet right there. She would surely be caught by them.

  Spinning back around to face Dylan, fury coursed through her. She grabbed him and shook him as hard as she could. “You stupid child!”

  Shouts outside of the room allowed her the fraction of a second she needed to control her anger. “You are a weak, insignificant little boy,” she said, pushing him away from her. “You have no power. You have nothing of Merlin in you. Too many generations have passed. But you are of my blood as well, and for that, and only that, I will spare you your life.”

  And with the wind, she was gone.

  Chapter 5

  I collapsed where I stood. I had failed. Failed utterly and miserably. My father had been right. Nimuë had been right.

  I could hear him even now saying the very same words Nimuë had just spoken—nearly word for word.

  “You are nothing,” my father had said on one of his visits to my foster home. “You have no power. You have no skill. You don’t deserve the opportunities, the destiny, you’ve been given.” The disgust on my father’s face had emptied me of everything.

  And then he had left. He’d left me with my foster family. With the brothers who taunted me with those same words nearly every day for months, only they had rejoiced to add that I would never be a true man, for men didn’t care about the emotions of others and never, ever showed their own.

  And so I had built my emotional wall. And I’d worked. Hard. I’d worked, learned, and practiced both to be a knight and a powerful Vallen.

  But my father had never come back. He’d never returned to see how I was doing, how I was progressing. I had shamed him so much that he no longer cared.

  Perhaps he’d been right in his assessment. Clearly, now, when I had had my chance to show myself, to fight one on one with Nimuë, what had I done?

  Nothing! I almost laughed. I’d been unable to do a thing. I’d forgotten everything I’d ever learned and had been completely defenseless—no sword, no magic. I had finally remembered to use the chalice, but what good had that done me? None! It had done nothing!

  I dropped my head into my hands but stopped myself from rocking back and forth like a baby. I was useless. Powerless. Just like Nimuë said.

  “Dylan?”

  Scai’s voice caressed me, but I couldn’t even bear to look up. How could I look her in the eye after this?

  I heard her soft footsteps come closer and then felt her hand rest gently on my shoulder. “Dylan, are you all right? What happened?”

  “We saw the chalice come flying out of this room. Did you throw it?” Bridget’s shocked voice came from the doorway, but I just kept concentrating on breathing calmly.

  How would I ever hold my head up again? I was nothing but a silly child—a boy who would never be a man.

  I may have been Merlin’s descendent, but I wasn’t his heir. Merlin’s heir wouldn’t have just stood there holding that stupid cup, shaking like a leaf. Merlin’s heir wouldn’t have let Nimuë go, he would have stopped her. Merlin’s heir would have called forth some incredible magic. He would have done something.

  All that training. For nothing!

  If I’d only had a sword! If I’d had Excalibur I could have cut her down.

  But I hadn’t. I’d been weaponless.

  “Dylan, please, say something,” Scai’s voice was growing more anxious.

  “Was it Lady Nimuë, son?” Sir Dagonet’s voice came from just outside of the little room. I could hear the faintly echoing quality of the church behind him.

  I took a deep breath and firmly pushed all of my emotions back behind my dam. They were safe there. And I felt so much better when I didn’t have to deal with them. Thank goodness my wall was strong. With one last press of my hands against my eyes to be sure there wouldn’t be a trace of tears, I lifted my head.

  “Yes,” I managed. “She was here. In her guise as Father du Lac.”

  Scai gave a little gasp.

  “I tried to get the chalice to do something, but it wouldn’t. I...I don’t know how to wield it.” I paused and took another breath to push more emotion back behind my wall. “She tried to take it from me. That’s when I threw it out of the room. I figured she wouldn’t go running after it and risk alerting you.”

  “And you were right. That was a clever idea, wot?” Sir Dagonet said.

  I managed to nod my head and lift the corners of my mouth into a little smile. At least I’d done something right.

  “We’ve got to get to Avalon,” Bridget worried aloud. “But how...?”

  “I saw something.” Scai finished bundling the chalice back into my clothing in a hurry. She slipped it into her own bag as she slid past her sister and Sir Dagonet, back into the sanctuary.

  I jumped up, grabbed my bag, and followed her, grateful for the distraction.

  She led us over to the other side of the church, where the baptismal font stood. I waited for a moment for her to say something, impatient—but then I saw it. There was something not right about the font, like there was a light shining onto it or from it.

  But that didn’t make any sense—it was sitting in a dark corner.

  I found myself walking towards it. Clearly, Bridget felt the same odd pull that I did; she came up from behind me, approaching the glowing water just before me.

  I looked up, trying to figure out where the light was coming from. It had to be coming from somewhere, some window I hadn’t noticed. But there was no window.

  I joined the girls at the font, and then reached out and moved my hand above the water, still trying to discern where the light was coming from. My fingers tingled with magic as they moved over the surface, but instead of seeing the shadow of my hand reflected in the water, a face with intense blue–green eyes appeared.

  Bridget gasped.

  “Lady Morgan,” Scai whispered.

  “Hello, my children,” the reflection of Lady Morgan said. “I’m so glad you found this water. That was very clever of you.”

  “I don’t understand. How can your reflection be in the water when you’re not here?” Scai asked, taking a quick look around and then up toward the ceiling.

  The lady laughed. “I’ll explain it to you when you get
to Avalon, Scai. I promise, I will explain many things that you do not yet understand.”

  I had heard once that very powerful Vallen could communicate through the waters of Avalon, but I had never seen it done. I wasn’t certain how it was happening now.

  “Is this holy water from Avalon, then?” I asked.

  “Yes, it is. Very good, Dylan. But now is not the time to explore this. I must admit, I am getting a little impatient for your arrival here.”

  “We tried to get there, but the boat brought us here to this island with the monastery instead,” Bridget said. “We don’t know how to get to Avalon.”

  “I shall send a boat for you, Bridget. It is the only way to reach the magical isle. How silly of you, Sir Dagonet, not to remember.” Her gentle laugh tinkled merrily from the water.

  I glanced behind me where Sir Dagonet was standing, gazing into the water as if he had never seen anything like it.

  The knight jerked as if he had just woken up. “Oh. I, er...yes, madam, quite so, wot?” Sir Dagonet stuttered out.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Scai said. “We’ll go down to the dock to meet it?”

  “You do that, and I will see you all very soon.” The image shimmered away, leaving me curious and full of anticipation.

  “Can’t believe I forgot you needed a boat from Avalon to get there,” Sir Dagonet muttered to himself as we made our way out of the church and toward the dock.

  “Well, I’m really glad to be getting off of this island. I don’t know where Lady Nimuë is now, but it gives me the shivers just thinking that she was here,” Bridget said, giving voice to the thoughts that were passing through my mind as well.

  “We’ll be safe from her on Avalon, don’t you know? Lady Morgan is very powerful,” Sir Dagonet said, his long strides taking him right up next to Bridget who had been leading the way.

  Not ten minutes after we arrived at the dock, a simple longboat rowed up. I had been looking out at the sea, but had somehow missed seeing it approach. I wasn’t entirely certain how that had happened, but there it was.

  A woman in a long flowing white gown smiled at us from the stern of the boat. Without saying a word, she welcomed us aboard.

  A lone creature sat at the oars. I couldn’t exactly say that it was a man. I had never seen anything quite like it before in my life. It looked, well, ugly; remarkably small, with a face that was all bumps and warts, with a barely discernable nose and deep beady little eyes. And yet, it managed to row this rather large boat all by itself, with seeming ease.

  Sir Dagonet cleared his throat, calling my attention away from the creature, and suddenly I realized I’d been starring quite rudely at it. A glance at Scai and Bridget’s flushed faces, and I realized that they must have been doing the same.

  “Good morning, Lady.” Sir Dagonet addressed the woman.

  She smiled and nodded but said nothing.

  “Thank you for coming to fetch us,” he added, his voice sounding more awkward.

  Again the woman nodded her head but said nothing.

  The oarsman swiftly rowed out into the water, and not half an hour later I noticed him working one oar only, turning the boat around.

  I looked to Sir Dagonet, but the knight had closed his eyes and seemed to be asleep.

  “Did you notice,” Scai whispered, “we’ve turned around.”

  “Yes, but I don’t know why,” I whispered back.

  “He must know the way,” Bridget said.

  “Should we ask?” Scai said, eyeing the man at the oars uncertainly.

  “No, I’m certain he knows what he’s doing,” I said, although I, too, was very curious as to what was going on.

  As we headed back toward the island, the woman stood up taller on prow. With a wave of her hand, an odd mist sprang up from nowhere, engulfing the boat.

  Bridget gasped, but maintained her silence.

  “Oh,” Scai sighed. Immediately before us was an island, but it definitely wasn’t the one we had just come from. It was green and lush. A scent wafted out toward us, like ripe apples and freshly cut hay, crisp, and clean, and beautiful.

  Scai sighed again. Her eyes were closed and a gentle smile lingered on her lips. She must have been smelling it, too—the scent of Avalon.

  Bridget leaned forward eagerly trying to see all that she could. There wasn’t very much to see besides greenery and a wide path that disappeared into it.

  A woman came through the trees, walking toward the dock. She reached it at the same time as the boat.

  It barely took me a moment to recognize Lady Morgan. Her long, flowing blond hair played gently in the breeze, wrapping around her waist and then flitting back. Her face was kind and her smile welcoming.

  I nearly forgot my manners once again, staring at the lady, but, as the girls stood up to disembark, I was quickly recalled. I, too, stood up and moved to place one foot on the dock in order to steady the boat and help Bridget and Scai climb out.

  I began to follow them as they walked toward Lady Morgan, who stood on the land awaiting them, but a shout followed by a splash stopped me in my tracks. I spun around to see Sir Dagonet thrashing around in the water and the boat floating off.

  I turned and ran to help the old man, wondering if I would need to dive in to save him.

  Lady Morgan’s voice stopped me just in time. She had burst out laughing at Sir Dagonet’s fall into the water, and now called out to him. “Sir Dagonet, stand on your feet! The water is not deep.”

  Sir Dagonet continued to thrash, however.

  “Sir Dagonet, stand up,” she called again through her laughter.

  “What? Oh!” the old man said, finding his feet beneath him. He stood. The water barely came up to his waist. He began to laugh at himself, but his face was bright red. “I, er, beg your pardon, my lady, wot, wot?”

  I went to the edge of the dock and held out a hand to help the old man up and out of the water. As he was still wearing his armor, it wasn’t an easy trick. It took us two or three tries before he was finally sitting on the dock panting with the exertion.

  “Dear Sir Dagonet! You have not changed one bit, have you?” Lady Morgan’s sweet voice trilled.

  “Eh? Shame, but no, I never change, wot, wot?” he gave another little embarrassed laugh before hauling himself to his feet.

  Lady Morgan turned back to the girls, who had been standing giggling into their hands. “Welcome, my children. Welcome to Avalon.”

  Both girls immediately dropped into proper curtsies and I bowed as the lady turned to encompass me in her welcome.

  “Come let me show you where you will be staying and poor Sir Dagonet can find a dry set of clothes.” She turned and began to lead the way down the path and through the trees.

  “I beg your pardon, my lady,” I began, feeling as awkward as Sir Dagonet was behaving.

  Lady Morgan stopped and turned around.

  “I, I was wondering if we might get started right away. I mean, the chalice...” I allowed my voice to trail off.

  Lady Morgan lost her welcoming smile. She cocked her head and asked, “You would leave poor Sir Dagonet in his wet clothing?”

  The answer that he would dry soon enough in the sun didn’t seem as if it would be acceptable to the lady, so I didn’t even attempt it. “No, ma’am, it’s just that...” I didn’t know how to say this politely while not losing face. I took a deep breath. “It’s just that it’s vital that we learn how to use it as soon as possible.”

  “Dylan was confronted by Lady Nimuë just before we spoke to you in the water,” Bridget explained. “He tried to use the chalice, but nothing happened.”

  I clenched my teeth together. I shouldn’t have worried about embarrassing myself, not when I had Bridget to do it for me.

  Lady Morgan’s mouth became an uncompromising straight line and she drew down her eyebrows. With this very grim expression, she stared straight at me. I shifted even more uncomfortably.

  Her voice when she spoke, however, was gentle and kind. “What di
d my sister do to you, Dylan?”

  “Nothing, my lady,” I said quickly. I had no intention of either embarrassing myself further or of offending our hostess by saying anything against Lady Nimuë.

  Lady Morgan’s eyes bore into mine, as if she were reading my thoughts. Slowly she nodded. Stepping toward me, she said, “I have spoken with Lady Nimuë and she will not harm you while you are here on Avalon. I give you my word.”

  “Thank you, my lady.”

  “We know that. It’s why we tried to get here so quickly,” Scai put in.

  “Forgot about the boat, though,” Sir Dagonet added sheepishly.

  Lady Morgan gave Sir Dagonet a little smile. She then turned back to me. Her expression had lightened, thanks to Sir Dagonet, and I was relieved to see it. “I understand your desire to get started on your training as quickly as possible, Dylan, and I will do everything I can to assist you, know that.” She paused and let out her breath in a slight sigh. “Despite the fact that Lady Nimuë is my sister, I will do everything I can to ensure that you carry out your destiny.”

  “Thank you, ma’am, but may I ask why you are doing this?” Scai asked. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but as you say, Lady Nimuë is your sister. Why would you do anything to help us when we have been charged with stopping her?”

  “It is a very good question, Scai, and one which Nimuë herself has asked me. I will give you the same answer I gave her. It is because you, the three of you, are the future of the people of Avalon. The Vallen who live in the outside world, they will not be able to grow and adapt without you. If we kept them tied to the old ways, the ways of the Island, they would not be able to do what they were charged to do.”

  “What is that?”

  “To help mankind. It is why the Vallen exist, Scai. And I’m sorry to remind you, but Merlin’s prophecy does provide for two possible outcomes. He allows for the possibility that Nimuë might kill you first.”

  “Which is why we need to train, my lady,” I reiterated, feeling tension beginning to swirl faster within me like a whirlpool threatening to pull me under.