Children of Avalon

by Meredith Bond

  Guilt burned through me. I was still forgetting that my brothers were Scai’s brothers, even after all this time. “Our family,” I corrected myself.

  “Look, I know you want to see your brothers, Bridget,” Dylan said, clearly trying to be patient, “but I really think we’ve got to get to Saerdbury as quickly as we can. We can surprise Nimuë and, hopefully, defeat her once and for all.”

  Frustration snapped within me. “You don’t understand. You don’t have a home you’re eager to get back to.” Immediately, I wished the words right back into my mouth. It wasn’t nice to point out that I had a loving family when Dylan didn’t. My temper was really beginning to creep up on me, no matter how hard I worked to keep it in check.

  I couldn’t quite see in the dark of the evening, but I could just imagine Dylan’s eyes going flat as he suppressed his anger. “No, I don’t. And my father is here, so I’ve seen and been with my family.”

  “Yes. I just want the same thing. I just want to be with my family, even if it’s only for a short time. And I need to get some warmer clothing,” I added, hoping that maybe one or the other of my arguments would sway them. I turned to Sir Dagonet, hoping that he would have a soft spot for me. “Please.”

  The old man just looked a little helplessly at me, but said nothing.

  “We don’t have the time,” Dylan said, as if his word was the final one.

  “We can take the time.”

  “No, we can’t. We’ve been through this, Bridget.” He was clearly beginning to get annoyed.

  “You don’t know where Nimuë is.”

  “No, I don’t. But Saerdbury is a pretty good guess.” Dylan looked around for agreement from the others.

  Aron shrugged but said nothing. Why didn’t he defend me?

  “Dylan’s right, Bridget. She’s probably already there and planning her next attack on us,” Scai said.

  “Oh, yeah, it’s easy for you to take his side. You’ve seen our brothers recently,” I said, feeling the heat inside of me rise. It still infuriated me that Scai had secretly gone off to visit our family without even telling me. It was so unfair that Scai could fly with the wind when the rest of us were confined to a slow ride on horseback, restrained by the snail’s pace set by Sir Dagonet.

  “That doesn’t make a difference…” Scai started.

  “Yes, it does make a difference. You’ve seen them. You’ve been with them. You probably even slept in my bed! Well, I don’t think it’s too much to ask that I be allowed to do these things, too. I want to see my brothers. I want the comfort of my own bed. I want a change of clothes. I’m cold and I’m tired. I just want to go home.” I blinked rapidly. If I let the others see my tears I would be totally humiliated.

  “Bridget.” Sir Dagonet reached out and put a consoling hand on my arm.

  I snatched it away, out of his reach. “No. I don’t want your pity. I want to go home. And I want to do so now. At first light, tomorrow morning.”

  “You go ahead,” Dylan said, “if that’ll make you feel better. But I can’t just give up on this quest. I can’t allow Nimuë to get the upper hand. She is going to make the alternative in the prophecy the true one. She is going to find us and kill us. Have you forgotten this? Have you forgotten what we’re doing here? We’re trying to save our lives and the world from her all-consuming power.”

  I rounded on Dylan. “No, I am not forgetting, thank you very much, Sir Dylan. I am not forgetting anything. But I don’t think that a few days will make a great deal of difference.”

  “A few minutes will make a great deal of difference!” he snapped back.

  “Well, then you can just get on your high horse and get on the road right now.” I glared at Dylan, no longer even trying to be nice or hold my emotions in check.

  “I’ll wait until morning, thank you very much. You can join me there in a week or two after you’ve spent time with your family. I’ll have defeated Nimuë by then, but I’ll wait there for you.”

  I couldn’t even speak for the fury that was raging inside of me. If I dared looked at anything, or anyone, aside from the hard ground, I was certain it would burst into flames.

  “My, my aren’t you sure of yourself?” The voice came from behind us. It was smooth and soft in a way that made my skin crawl.

  I spun around while Dylan and Sir Dagonet jumped to their feet, pulling out their swords as they did so. We were all standing within a moment, prepared to fight.

  “Lady Nimuë,” Scai whispered.

  “Lovely to see you again, too, Scai,” she said, launching into an attack. Glowing balls of magical energy were lobbed in quick succession at each one of us.

  I immediately responded in kind. My first quick shot went wide and by the time my arm was cocked back to throw a second, Nimuë was gone.

  “Where’d she go?” I asked, spinning around.

  “Over here,” Nimuë called from my left.

  I turned and then ducked under a fire ball aimed straight at my head. As soon as my arm was cocked back, Nimuë was gone.

  “Here I am,” she called from my right.

  A lightning bolt shot from the sky, landing right where Nimuë had been, because once again, she was gone.

  “Missed!” Scai said.

  “I’m getting dizzy,” Sir Dagonet complained.

  “Oh, you poor thing,” Nimuë said, from right behind him.

  He spun around, his sword slicing through the air where, yet again, she wasn’t.

  “Really, Dagonet, I’ve never known you to miss,” she teased from directly in front of us.

  This time I got my fire ball in the air before Nimuë disappeared. It sailed harmlessly off into the courtyard, however, because she had vanished.

  “And now you, too, Bridget! You all must be tired,” Nimuë said from our left. She laughed, giving Dylan enough time to run at her, his sword at the ready. She was gone by the time he reached her.

  Dylan let out a shout of frustration.

  “No, no, really Dylan, you should know better,” she said in front of me again.

  This time I was ready and threw my fire ball even as Nimuë was speaking. It nearly hit her, but she disappeared just a split second before it would have.

  “How is she doing this?” I shouted, just as frustrated as Dylan.

  “Running with the wind,” Scai said, clearly trying to track her.

  “Very good, my dear. Can you keep up?” Nimuë asked from behind us.

  “You’re moving faster than I can see,” Scai said, flipping her head around, and Nimuë disappeared and reappeared off to our right.

  “Catch me if you can,” Nimuë teased and threw the fireball in her hand before disappearing once more.

  “How do we fight this?” Aron asked, as frustrated as any of us. “She’s too fast. As soon as we make a move, she’s gone.”

  “Oh, so right, you who are tall and muscular,” Nimuë purred practically in his ear. “What is your name? I don’t know you.”

  Being the closest, Sir Dagonet leapt for her, swinging his sword in a deadly arc that surely would have cleaved her right in two if she hadn’t stopped it in mid-air just by holding out her hand.

  “What?” Sir Dagonet cried out, shocked.

  “She did the same to me earlier,” Dylan commiserated with the old knight.

  Nimuë laughed. “Yes, we did have fun, didn’t we, my dear grandson?”

  With a scream of fury, Dylan ran at her. I didn’t wonder at that, and held onto the fire ball in my hand so that I didn’t accidentally hit Dylan with it. Unfortunately, Nimuë was long gone by the time he reached where she had been.

  She reappeared on our other side, throwing a fire ball before disappearing a second later.

  Scai’s scream didn’t last more than a moment before she crumbled to the ground. A burning smell made my nose itch.

  “Scai!” Aron ran to her.

  I threw my own fireball toward where I hoped Nimuë would appear and almost hit her.

  “Good guess!”
Sir Dagonet said.

  “Not good enough,” Nimuë chided.

  “Bridget, she needs help. I don’t know…” Aron’s voice broke.

  I turned. He was sitting on the ground, Scai cradled in his arms.

  I dropped down next to him. I had no idea what one of these fireballs actually did to a person. It was too dark to see exactly how Scai was harmed.

  “We need to get her inside to the light so I can see,” I said.

  “We will finish this another time, my lady,” Sir Dagonet said, as Aron stood up with Scai in his arms.

  “Oh, but we were having so much fun,” Nimuë cried out in a mocking tone.

  “If I could get my hands on…” Aron started, taking a step closer to Nimuë despite holding Scai.

  “Tsk, tsk, handsome, you really shouldn’t make threatening noises when you can’t follow them up with action.” Nimuë winked at him.

  I quickly threw off two fireballs as Dylan practically pushed Aron toward the castle. My aim was wide with both, but luckily I didn’t hit Sir Dagonet who was charging toward Nimuë once again.

  “Till next time,” she said with a laugh, and then disappeared. I turned and ran after Aron and Dylan, taking a peek behind to check on Sir Dagonet. He was following faster than I had ever seen him move.

  Chapter Two

  Sir Dagonet banged once on Lord Merwyd’s door before going in. Aron, with Scai in his arms, followed. Dylan and I were right behind.

  “What? What’s wrong?” Lord Merwyd sat up in the bed. If it weren’t for the white of his nightshirt and the dim light of the dying fire, I wouldn’t have been able to see him in the dark of the room.

  “Scai’s been hurt, Father. I’m very sorry, but we need your bed once again,” Dylan said, coming around Sir Dagonet to explain.

  “Of course, of course,” he said, climbing from the bed.

  Sir Dagonet went to the fire to get a taper to light the candles in the room, but I didn’t have time to wait for him. I touched each one with my finger, watching the wicks burst into flame.

  “Oh, naturally,” Sir Dagonet said, with a light chuckle.

  “Are there any more?” I asked, looking around for more candles.

  “I’ll get some,” Dylan said. He rushed from the room.

  Needing more light, I pointed to the fireplace. The fire roared larger. Lord Merwyd and Sir Dagonet both jumped away from the flames.

  It wasn’t much brighter, but it was better than just the two measly little candles we had.

  Aron placed Scai down on the bed and then hovered near her.

  I focused my mind on my sister, mentally reaching out to feel for what was wounded within her, switching thoughtlessly to being a healer blocking out everything else. I couldn’t allow my own fear or nervousness to interfere with my work.

  I ran my hands quickly down Scai’s body, trying to feel for anything. Once again that smell of something burnt tickled my nose. Was it her hair?

  Dylan came back in with a large candelabra, providing a good deal more light.

  “Thank you, Dylan,” I said, not looking up as I inspected Scai closely from head to foot. “But I don’t feel or see anything, do you?”

  “Not even scorch marks,” Aron replied. He must have been smelling the burning, too, but as he said, there wasn’t a mark on her.

  “Nothing,” Dylan agreed.

  “I, I don’t know where or how she’s hurt.” Frustration began to boil inside of me. “I’ve never treated anyone hit by pure magic before.”

  “That must have been some fire ball, wot, wot?” Sir Dagonet said, coming over to look for himself.

  “Yes, but what did it do to her?” Dylan asked.

  I pressed my hand to Scai’s forehead. She felt warm, but not too warm, and she was still unconscious. “Perhaps a cold cloth for her forehead?” I suggested.

  “Will she just come to on her own?” Aron asked.

  “I don’t know.” I turned to Sir Dagonet. “You’ve been hit by one of these before; do you remember what it felt like?”

  The old knight just shook his head. “Knocked me out for a few minutes, but I woke up again just fine. Have a feeling this one was a lot stronger, don’t you know?”

  “Dylan, go and fetch a doctor. There must be a number still here since the battle,” Lord Merwyd directed his son.

  “A doctor won’t know what to do any more than I do,” I protested. I could do this—once I figured out what this was. If nothing else, I had complete confidence in my healing abilities. I just needed to know what was wrong in order to know which sort of healing magic to apply.

  “Won’t be able to understand what’s happened to her, wot?” Sir Dagonet said, nodding.

  “Well, there must be another Vallen healer—if not here, then somewhere close by,” Dylan’s father said, frowning at us all.

  “Bridget is fully capable of healing her,” Dylan protested, much to my surprise.

  “She’s sixteen years old! She, herself, just said she has no idea what she’s doing.”

  I swallowed back the lump of anger in my throat and turned to Lord Merwyd. “I’m eighteen. And, no, I don’t know what I’m doing, but Scai is my sister and I will do everything within my power to heal her.”

  “Considerable power she has, too, wot, wot?” Sir Dagonet said.

  I gave him a smile, grateful for his support as well.

  “We all believe that if anyone can heal her, it’s Bridget,” Aron said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He tucked his hands under his arms as if he was trying to hold himself back from doing something. There was, of course, nothing he could do. I wasn’t certain what I could do either.

  I took a quick swipe at the grateful tears that were making their way down my cheeks. Aron had absolutely no idea what he was saying, but he believed in me. They all did. It was their positive thoughts, and whatever I could figure out to do, that was going to pull Scai through this.

  “So that’s it? You’re going to leave her life in the hands of a girl?” Dylan’s father asked, clearly still not believing that I was capable.

  “Yes, we are,” Dylan answered, almost before Lord Merwyd had stopped speaking.

  Sir Dagonet nodded and Aron voiced his agreement as well.

  “Thank you all,” I said, giving them a watery smile. I pulled myself together and added, “I just need to concentrate. I need to think of how to approach the injury. I use slightly different magic for different types of wounds and illness.”

  “What you want, perhaps, is something for a burn. It’s kind of like a burn, from the inside, don’t you know?” Sir Dagonet explained.

  I turned to him. “Yes, that’s what I smell. It’s from the inside?” I said, thinking this through.

  “Helpful, or no?” the old knight asked.

  “Very helpful.” I knew how to treat burns—although never one like this, obviously. But, still, it was somewhere to begin.

  I turned and bent down to examine Scai once more. Her breathing was shallow and rasping. Silence fell in the room as we all listened.

  And then it stopped.

  <><><>

  “My, you are happy this evening,” Morgan’s voice said, startling Nimuë.

  She had been pacing back and forth in her chamber, thinking about how she had put the children on edge—and very nearly giggling about it. They had been so frustrated, unable to get in even one good shot at her. Oh, yes, this battle had definitely been decided in her favor.

  “And why should I not be?” Nimuë asked, walking over to the silver bowl on her table, still filled with water from Avalon.

  “No reason, I am just curious as to why? I think I would have felt if the children had been killed.”

  “I imagine you would,” Nimuë agreed. “No, sadly they are all still alive. At least, at the moment. But that may change any minute now.”

  Morgan stopped moving and her eyes shifted off to her left. “What have you done, Nimuë?” Her voice no longer held its normal casual tone. No, now she wa
s angry and concerned. Nimuë could barely contain her inner smile.

  “Ah, you can feel it. I thought you would be able to do so if you put your mind to it.” Nimuë nearly laughed.

  Her sister gasped. “It is Scai. She is dying! She is… What did you do?” Morgan’s anger was growing by the moment as she obviously began to feel her great granddaughter’s distress.

  “Is she dying? Is she dead?” Nimuë asked. She could not feel the child. She did not have that sort of connection with the girls, only with Dylan who was of her own bloodline. Anticipation flooded her. Oddly it was not a jubilant sort of feeling as she had expected it to be.

  “She is…” Morgan paused, feeling for her granddaughter. “She is weak. I am not sure if she is alive or not. I cannot feel her, but…”

  “As I said, she will not be with us for much longer.”

  “Nimuë, what did you do?” Morgan was nearly shouting now.

  “Only what I said I would,” Nimuë answered with a deliberate shrug. “I probably should have killed them all while I had the chance, but it is so much more fun this way. One at a time.” She slowly ticked off three fingers, one after the other.

  “How could you?” A tear began to make its way down Morgan’s cheek. The sight was a little startling to Nimuë, but she refused to feel anything for her sister.

  “I am just doing what was foretold in Merlin’s prophecy. Do not become emotional, sister. I told you I would kill them. If I do not, they will kill me.” She paused for a moment and then had to ask, “Would you weep for me if they did—as you do for this child?” The minute the words were out of her mouth, she regretted her own weakness in asking.

  “I most certainly would. You are my sister. I love you. And I love those children. Is there no way…” But Morgan stopped. She knew the answer as well as Nimuë did. There was no way around a prophecy, they always held true. Destiny was destiny, after all.

  “How long until they bury her and be on their way, I wonder?” Nimuë mused out loud. “Do you suppose they will take her back to her little village in Wales or to Gloucester to be buried with the rest of her family?”

  They were rhetorical questions and they both knew it.