Echoes of Avalon (Tales of Avalon Book 1)

by Adam Copeland

  “Make for the path to the castle!” he heard Loki call out. Loki was hanging out the window of the carriage, enjoying the scenery as much as Minion was fascinated by it.

  Soon, the horses’ hooves hit the beach of quartz crystal sand, then mounted the path to the castle. The roadway was composed of glass cobblestones, as thick and as heavy as their mundane counterparts, but as clear as ice. The iron shoes of the horses made a thunderous ringing, but did not fracture them.

  A short trip brought the carriage to an open oval-shaped gate, surmounted by what looked like an hourglass symbol. Just as with the magic portal, Minion plowed the team through and brought the carriage to a stop in the courtyard. Here, the sound of the horses hooves were quieter.

  Where the mountain was glass, the castle was pearl. No discernible stone; no brick nor mortar. Iridescent colors played over its surfaces like oil on water. The courtyard grounds melded seamlessly with the walls, all of which appeared to lean ever so slightly in one direction or another, as if they had grown there like trees.

  Minion jumped down from the chauffeur’s seat and opened the door for his master. Inside, Loki was gently stroking the brow of the slumbering Katherina, who had slept through all recent events.

  Loki grinned. “I believe she will be a bit more even-tempered once she sees just how enchanting her new home is.”

  He stepped from the carriage and surveyed his surroundings.

  The courtyard was enclosed by sheer walls and towers, dominated by an edifice with a single door. A staircase of cascading disks, each like the layer of a cake, spilled from this door to the carriage. Above the door was the same hourglass symbol.

  “Yes, most definitely an Elohim sanctuary, or, as the locals like to call it, ‘Faerie.’” Loki whispered, taking a deep breath. “Minion, take the princess and follow me.”

  He mounted the pearlescent stairs and opened the door to the inner sanctum. His face was alight and his smile spread wide like a child’s. Inside was a large chamber, and in the darkness he could make out row upon row of columns reaching for the ceiling in the dark. He let the door swing all the way in and allowed outside light to illuminate the room and an opening on the far side. He passed through this chamber to the portal and mounted a steep winding staircase to another oblong door. Beyond, he was pleased to see, it led to a large well-lit space. Many windows opened onto a panorama.

  The room, though somewhat musty, was cavernous and offered the same mind-boggling architecture as the rest of the fortress; a slanting ceiling, egg-shaped doorways, trapezoidal windows, columns that leaned, contradicting what their supporting function ought to be. It was beautiful.

  He drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes, and then let it out. “Oh, at long last.”

  When he opened his eyes, his smile turned to a sneer. Before him were the ghostly forms of three veiled woman. They stood far apart from one another across the hall and they were all but transparent, their features all but blurs.

  “You cannot enter,” the foremost one declared, holding up her hand. “It is forbidden.”

  Loki scoffed and slapped his gloves against his other hand. He waved at the ghosts. “Be gone, shades! You have no power over me in this domain. You are no longer of this world. Not even this world. Now go!”

  The ghosts grudgingly turned and walked away, fading as they did into nothingness. Loki laughed after them and strutted about the room. He walked before a great window. He bathed in light from the otherworldly sky and raised his arms, drawing in another deep breath. He closed his eyes.

  When he opened them again, they glowed with a hint of lavender.

  Minion arrived, heralded by uneven footfalls and grunts from beyond the hall. “Master,” he piped. “Where should I put her?” He carried the Lady Katherina in his arms, her dress dragging along the ground.

  He gestured at a long table. At one end was a huge kingly chair, and at the other was another large chair, though not quite as large. “There, put her there.”

  Loki traced his gloved finger along the table, noting the trail of dust he left. There were many dishes, flagons, and cups on the table, all covered in a fine film.

  “I will be waking the princess soon,” he said, moving to what looked like a group of cupboards and shelves against the far wall. “I would like to have a meal prepared for her. Something special, something to make her more...amenable.” He opened the first cupboard and found nothing, moved to the next, and found nothing there as well. The shelves on the wall, however, held more dishes. “Also, unload the luggage from the carriage, find us rooms worthy of royalty and...” Loki froze, something catching his attention. In the center of the room past the long table was what looked like another table, but covered with a cloth. The irregular shapes underneath the cloth indicated that something was sitting on top of it.

  “What do we have here?” Loki made long strides for the table and whipped the cover off, creating a cloud of dust.

  Loki took a step back, eyes big.

  There were two objects underneath the cloth. A rich mirror, propped up, and a very large hourglass. The mirror was held in a frame of gaudy gold workmanship, studded with magnificent clear jewels—but it did not compare to the hourglass. The glass was so clear and thin it was almost absent. A simple framework of highly polished gold rods and braces held the apparatus together. From the side, the glass chambers looked roughly heart shaped.

  “What are they, master?” Minion asked.

  “True treasures,” Loki whispered reverently. He grabbed the hourglass with both hands and hefted it to his chest. It was almost as big as his torso, and heavy. “The likes of which I have not seen in a very long time. This is all surpassing my wildest expectations. Do the grains in the glass look familiar to you?”

  Minion stood on tiptoe. After a moment’s scrutiny, his eyebrows raised and he exclaimed, “Ah, the magic powder. The converted gold.”

  “Precisely,” Loki said, and hugged the device closer to his breast.

  Minion gasped when he saw the powder inside jump and collect against the glass closest to Loki’s chest, like iron filaments collecting around a lodestone. The fine grains began to dance and pulse in time with Loki’s heart.

  “I assume you noticed that giant beam of light at the center of the castle?” Loki asked, replacing the hourglass on the table. He flipped it. The grains filling the upper chamber began to drain into the lower half.

  Minion nodded.

  “That is the very soul of this place, dying slowly and evaporating into the heavens.” Loki smiled and laughed. “But not for much longer. This device is the heart of this place, and I just harmonized it with my own. As long as my heart beats, we have a home.”

  #

  Remembering how long it had taken to find the wolf, Patrick believed it would take hours to find its cave again. He was wrong. The bird took less than an hour to lead him to a small hill of moss and aspen-covered granite, and then paused at a dark opening and honked at him.

  Patrick paused at the entrance, and looked back the way from which he came, briefly thinking that maybe there was still somebody out there more qualified than him to get the job done. But he entered the darkness anyway.

  The cave was as he remembered it. Cobwebs all but masked the sides, hiding the pictures there. He had no means of creating light, so he stumbled through the darkness. When he achieved what he believed to be the main cavern, he sat and rested his head on his knees, waiting.

  Such a long time passed that he wondered if anything would happen.

  Eventually, a soft glow began to illuminate the cavern until it became brilliant. Patrick did not bother looking up, but remained sitting with his head between his knees. After some time, someone spoke. It was a soft feminine voice.

  “Greetings, Patrick.”

  Patrick looked up. It was the woman he had seen before here. Her hair was as golden and luxuriant as the cavern’s treasures.

  “Greetings,” he responded, not knowing what else to say.

  �
��We know why you have come, and we haven’t much time,” the woman said, bending over to help Patrick to his feet. Several other woman were shimmering into existence within the cavern. They approached as if coming from the walls. They all shared the same beautifully sculpted cheekbones and arched brows. Their eyes were identical―green, with starbursts at their centers. “We must prepare you.”

  Patrick was dazed. It seemed just being in their presence was intoxicating, dulling his senses. The maidens were reaching into the treasure and bringing forth items.

  “Prepare me for what exactly?”

  “Loki has broken through to the other side, and his spell is causing a cataclysm that even he is not fully aware of. He must be stopped. We cannot. As with the wolf, we cannot impede him. But you can.” The nearest maiden commenced removing his clothes. Patrick did not feel ashamed in their presence, as if he were among sisters. They were wiping him down with damp towels, wiping away the grime and blood from his skin.

  “A cataclysm?” Patrick let them lift his feet, foot by foot to cleanse them. His minor wounds were now miraculously gone. Once he was clean, the maidens began to place soft clothing on him, slip boots onto his feet.

  “Yes,” came the response, though he could not tell which one spoke. “He seeks to change the world, but it is beyond his skill. His arrogance will only accomplish to unravel the laws of nature, destroying the world.”

  Patrick’s heart skipped a beat. “Destroy the world? I—I just want to rescue the princess.”

  “Be stout of heart, kinsman, we are often called to a higher purpose. Everything happens for a reason. It is up to destiny what becomes of us.” They were hanging armor on him now. A finely wrought coat of golden scales. Old Celtic armor, but light and supple, and more intricate and of better craftsmanship than any he had seen anywhere else in the world.

  “What am I to do?” he asked, rocking back and forth as they tugged on the straps and harness that held the armor to his body. They buckled a scabbard around his waist, and a maiden was placing a round golden shield in one of his hands, another a masked helm on his head.

  “You know what to do. Go after the princess, the rest will fall into place,” they replied in chorus. They were circling him and showering him with tiny silvery motes that drifted lazily onto him and chimed musically each time one struck his armor.

  “I don’t think that I....”

  “Don’t think,” the tallest maiden said, placing a finger on his lips. She held out her other hand behind her and another maiden placed something in it. She presented this to Patrick. It was a sword. A beautiful work of art with a golden hilt shaped vaguely like a chalice or an hourglass, the stem of one cup forming the grip. She placed it in Patrick’s palm. “Just do. It will all unfold as it should.”

  The sword, for all its cumbersome metalwork, was incredibly light and it seemed to hum in his hand. Patrick moved it about delicately, and found it an extension of his own arm.

  “Take care how you handle that,” the maiden said. “Great hands have touched it in the past, and will again in the future, should you succeed.”

  Patrick let the weapon droop in his arm. At her words, he suddenly felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Right, save the world.”

  The maidens took him by the elbows and led him to the mouth of the cave. They stopped short of the light.

  “Go now kinsman, quickly, and remember to face your fears.”

  They turned then and disappeared into the darkness of the cave. Before they were gone from sight, Patrick thought that he could see them passing into a chamber that previously was not there. A chamber filled with slumbering knights with swords lying on their breasts. Then the image was gone.

  Patrick shook his head. He was only staring into darkness. He sheathed the sword and turned out to the forest.

  #

  The long table was dusted and set with clean dishes and silverware. A fresh flagon of wine rested within reach of Loki hand as he sat in the big chair, watching the slumbering princess. Minion placed a platter of bread on the table.

  “Enough of preparations, concentrate on making something to eat,” Loki said. “It is time to wake her.” Minion bowed and exited. “My lady, awake, for goodness sake,” Loki said in a sing-song voice, and snapped his fingers. A purplish light sparked between his fingers and faded.

  The Lady Katherina’s body twitched and her eyes slowly fluttered open. She woke slowly, with a huge yawn, and stretched her arms. But when she blinked the sleep from her eyes and looked around, she stood up sharply.

  “Good afternoon, Lady Katherina, how art thou?” Loki chuckled.

  Katherina looked about her, dumbfounded. Her eyes came to rest on Loki and recollection crossed her face. Her hand slowly came up to her mouth. “What have you done with me? Where am I?”

  Her face was cross. Loki chuckled at the sight as he filled a goblet before him from the decanter. “What I have done with you,” he said, “is spirit you away from Greensprings, which you never liked anyhow. As far as where you are, I believe this place was once called Castle Chariot.”

  Katherina stood and rushed to one of the windows. Her jaw dropped at the sight, and unbelieving bewilderment grew in her eyes.

  “I know this must all be very difficult to take in,” he said, joining her at the window. He held the goblet out to her. “This is not the world as you know it. To give you a simple analogy, a very simple one, this is the world from the corner of your eye. Please won’t you have a drink?”

  Katherina shook her head and the wonderment vanished from her face. “I want nothing you have to offer, my lord. I have not forgotten the foul smelling cloth.”

  Loki laughed. “Oh that, such silliness. Those crude methods embarrass me now.” He bent near Katherina and held out the palm of his hand. A flame appeared there and danced about with a life of its own. Katherina gasped and backed toward the table. Loki smiled. “You see, If I wanted you to drink, I could make you. I could just as easily carve a woman from wood and make her do my bidding. But it is willingness that matters.” Loki approached Katherina and stroked her chin gently. “And companionship, given freely, is much more pleasing to me.”

  In a daze, Katherina returned to the chair and sat down. “What do you mean to do with me?”

  Loki sat on the edge of the table. “Why, whatever you want. You see, this kingdom is now yours just as much as it is mine. I want to make you as happy and comfortable as possible.”

  “Then let me go home.”

  Loki sucked air between his teeth. “Well, that poses a bit of a problem at the moment.”

  “Why?”

  “You see, ‘home’ right now is going through a bit of a transformation.” Katherina crossed her arms and frowned. “I don’t understand. Explain.”

  “That’s what I always liked about you. Blunt and straight to the point.” When he saw that she was not amused by his charms and truly wanted an answer, he stood from the edge of the table, cleared his throat, and paced. “Well, where shall I begin? Remember when I said this is not the world you know?”

  “Yes, what do you mean by that? Where are we?” Katherina once again glanced out the window.

  “You have probably heard of it called ‘Faerie,’ the realm of the Fair Folk, the Fey. A place separated from the normal world by invisible curtains of air, walls of illusion, a place where they could live peacefully apart from mortals. A safe haven. A sanctuary.”

  Katherina’s brow furrowed as she digested the information. “Why did you come here?”

  “Because here, I can do this...” Loki said smiling, waving his hand in the air. The cups and silverware set before Katherina levitated in the air, performed a loop, and returned to their original positions on the table in the space of a heartbeat. Katherina’s eyes widened at the display, betraying a valiant attempt at maintaining an air of aloofness.

  “You are sorcerer, then?”

  “You might say that, but I would say a sorcerer learns his craft, whereas I was born
to it.”

  “You are one of these ‘Fair Folk?’”

  “In a manner of speaking. My kind was the highest sort of Fey. Long ago, I was worshipped as a god. Myself, and others like me, thrived off the psychic energies of devoted mortals. I intend to do so again.”

  Katherina’s concentration suddenly broke, replaced with scathing laughter. Loki stood erect, brow knitted over the bridge of his nose, the sight of which caused Katherina to go into another fit of laughter.

  “What’s so funny?” Loki growled.

  Katherina regained her composure. “A god? I am sorry, but you never struck me as a god. I saw no god-like behavior in you until these few parlor tricks.”

  Loki’s eyes flared lavender in color and he leaned towards her menacingly, his canine teeth revealing themselves to be sharp and pointy. Katherina’s mocking laughter withered under his gaze and she withdrew deeper into the chair.

  “All in good time, princess. My powers are slow to return in this place, but they are returning.” He held out his hands and lightning leaped from them, scouring the walls of the chamber before fading away. “Soon, I will be as powerful as long ago! I will be a sight to behold!”

  Katherina breathed shallowly, chest heaving. But she stuck out her chin in defiance. “As long as you are god in this place and not my world, I do not care. And so long as you let me go.”

  “Neither of which is going to happen,” Loki responded, his demeanor becoming more civil. He smoothed the front of his vest. “As lovely as this place is, it just isn’t big enough to content me. And, as I pointed out earlier, your world is going through a transformation. You really don’t want to be there until it’s all finished.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Loki smiled. “You like onions?”

  Katherina seemed taken aback by the question. “No, they make breath bad.”

  “No matter,” Loki continued. “The thing about onions is that they have many layers to them. The world, likewise, has many layers to it as well. The outer layer of an onion is dull, ugly, even dirty. Such is the world as you know it. Very simple, not the least bit extraordinary. Peel that away, however—” Loki smiled and winked—”then you have something with a little flavor to it. Avalon is such a layer of the world. In Avalon, a modicum of magic still exists, and obeys different laws of nature. Peel the next layer, and you have this...” Loki raised his hands and looked around. “This place is magic. Can’t you just feel the power coursing through this place?”