The Revealed (The Lakewood Series Book 2)

by Sarah Kleck

  I stopped, put my mouth against his, and forced air into his lungs. Then I started over.

  One . . . two . . . three . . .

  Everything blurred. My eyes overflowed with tears. I forced even more air into his lungs.

  “Jared.” It sounded as if something was stuck in my throat, as if I was suffocating. I heard my blood pulse in my ears. My surroundings turned surreal. It felt as if I was falling.

  Suddenly, a strange noise. It ripped me out of my trance. A strange, powerful moaning. Morgana’s moaning.

  I shuddered.

  My hands trembled like aspen leaves.

  No . . . no . . . that can’t be . . . that mustn’t be . . .

  I again frantically felt Jared’s neck in a panic. “No . . . no . . . no . . .” I put my ear against his chest until I thought I heard a heartbeat, but realized it was only my own heart’s panicked thumps. “No . . . no . . . no . . . Jared . . . no . . . please . . . don’t leave me alone, Jared . . . don’t leave me . . .”

  I forced even more air into his lungs, but . . . nothing. His lifeless chest was only rising and sinking with my breath.

  I massaged his chest.

  One . . . two . . . three . . .

  I raised my eyes and looked at Morgana in disbelief.

  She spread her arms triumphantly and let Jared’s power flood her while she breathed in deeply and moaned.

  Horror seized me.

  This mustn’t be!

  Again I felt along Jared’s neck. I desperately attempted to get him back. It was as if my nightmares had come true.

  No!

  Tears clouded my sight again. Numbness and a feeling that it was just a bad dream took hold of me again.

  Morgana’s moaning continued, turned to sighing and, finally, sounded like a kind of . . . whimpering.

  I listened intently. The whimpering had nothing lustful to it. I managed with difficulty to turn my eyes away from Jared and forced myself to look at Morgana.

  Her whole body began to writhe. She breathed in short, panting bursts, as if she were trying to suppress a building panic attack. Then she bent forward, doubled over, and contorted herself as she worked to find the right place for Jared’s magic inside her body. I tirelessly felt Jared’s neck, listened to his chest, looked for a sign of life. Pulse, heartbeat, breathing . . . any sign of life.

  Morgana’s body bent unnaturally backward as she floated above the ground.

  Breathe! Damn it, Jared, breathe!

  White light shone outward from Morgana’s eyes, mouth, nose, fingers, and toes. Then it irresistibly broke out of her, blazing and so bright I had to lift my arms to shield my eyes. When I looked again, I saw both the most beautiful and most frightening thing I had ever seen. A vibrating ball of light floated between Jared and Morgana. A small pulsating sun. She was simply floating. A second, maybe two, and it was still almost impossible for me to look.

  Breathe, Jared, breathe!

  There! A weak pulse under his skin! But it was quickly gone again.

  The expression on Morgana’s face changed abruptly.

  “No!” she commanded, tensing every muscle of her body. I couldn’t believe my eyes. As if it was following Morgana’s orders, the blazing light ball slowly moved toward her. Away from Jared. “Not this time!” Her voice acquired a strangely ringing, doubled sound, as if she were speaking with male and female voices simultaneously. The light ball moved irresistibly toward her. With a quiet moan escaping her lips—whether from pain or arousal, I could not say—she righted herself as the ball of blinding light rushed into her with full force. The sudden impact hurled me back.

  Morgana doubled over in pain, her body bent unnaturally in all directions. Her eyelids fluttered. The arteries in her face and hands alternated between light and dark, as if something were crawling underneath her skin. She squeezed her black eyes shut and screamed. Then, suddenly, as if she had received an electric shock, her body straightened like a candlestick. She was still floating. Complete silence surrounded us.

  It happened.

  The change was immediately visible. Morgana’s skin became clean, smooth, and alabaster-colored. Her hip-long black hair straightened and became silky and shining. Her body relaxed, and her flawless face radiated youthful splendor. Her talon-like curved fingers unclenched. Her lids opened, and she looked at me with glowing crimson eyes. Then she smiled.

  What my mind had already grasped and correctly interpreted, my heart refused to believe. My hands shook as never before. The realization slowly spread through my arms, belly, face, and legs, and down to my toes until my body became one trembling mass. The pain tore me apart. My knees gave way. I fell to the ground . . . next to Jared’s dead body.

  The black night enveloped me. My skull wanted to explode. I opened my sore eyes, stared into Jared’s angelic face. His blue eyes no longer shone. They gazed at me like the windows of an abandoned house, empty and expressionless. I sat there and watched my tears drop on his face. I could not turn my gaze from him.

  I remained in this position of numb rigidity for what felt like an eternity. There was tugging on my legs. I felt my shocked body being dragged over the ground, but I did not defend myself. Something like a belt was first strapped around my wrists, then my ankles. The angle changed. I was no longer lying on the ground. Something lifted me upright. Stinking, strained breathing brushed over my face. I perceived my surroundings through blurred vision. They had tied me to the cross.

  Jared’s body lay close. It was so unbearable to see him lying there. Then a searing pain flashed through my chest. I gasped. Morgana stood before me, with an expression of satisfaction in her glowing red eyes. I stared through her. She stared back. Then she lifted her beautiful face into the air.

  “Do you see now that you never had a whisper of a chance?” she asked, as if demanding a confession of guilt from a child. “There was no point in coming here, love. Though I admit . . . I was surprised to see you here. Perhaps even impressed. Not to mention that you somehow possessed Nimue’s magic.” She tenderly laughed and brushed her fingers over my cheek. “Say, child, how did you do that?”

  My tired gaze turned toward Jared, who lay unchanged on the ground. Or . . . hadn’t his arm been angled differently before? Now it was extended. Was I holding his hand when they pulled me away?

  Morgana roughly grabbed my chin, yanking my head so I would have to look at her. Her sharp fingernails dug into my jaw. I made no sound.

  “Well, do tell, how did you come by Nimue’s magic?” Her nagging undertone betrayed that she was burning to find out. How many times had she combed the island looking for it?

  I looked at her numbly. She let go of my chin, stepped back, and sized me up with an iron look.

  “What should I do first?” she asked the damnati and put on a pretend smile. “You know, now that I’m more powerful than any other magical being—dead or alive.” She happily clapped her hands.

  Nervous laughter went through the ranks. A mistress this mighty was probably dreaded by her subjects. The damnati seemed about to shit themselves with fear of becoming her guinea pigs.

  I felt nothing but emptiness. It was like waking from anesthesia. She had taken everything from me.

  A sudden and brutal pain penetrated, and I cried out into the night. It took me a moment to register that I had given off that sound.

  “Have I got your attention now?” Morgana asked, giving me a threatening look. The flicker in her glowing red eyes irritated me. “Where did you find Nimue’s magic?”

  I looked at her for a drawn-out moment, then breathed deeply. “If magic has the opportunity, it will always return to its rightful owner.” My voice was flat, as if I was in a trance. Those were Ruth’s words. I was surprised by my answer. Why did I say that?

  Morgana frowned.

  “That doesn’t answer my question, love.” Her tone showed that she was at the limit of her patience.

  My thoughts were adrift. Was I about to lose my mind? I kept looking at Jared. Wor
ds coalesced in my head. Words I’d heard before. A verse. In the fog. When I opened my mouth, my voice sounded odd, strange. Almost as if I were speaking with the voice in the silver fog.

  “The powerful being, worshipped by all,

  to its home, for love, its back has turned.

  Deceived and betrayed by malevolence and greed,

  the Mistress finds her return home denied.

  The water’s might violently displaced,

  the heavens with black clouds are hung.

  The nymphs’ laughter fallen silent,

  dark creatures proclaim their evil deeds.

  The forest once flowering in perfect splendor,

  without her its might is extinguished.”

  Morgana seemed stumped, then gave me a look as if I had lost my marbles. Maybe that was it . . .

  To be honest, that’s what it felt like. Why had I repeated that verse? I couldn’t latch on to a single clear thought. Text fragments, statements, and scraps of conversations shot through my head without any apparent connection—the voices of Ruth, Irvin, and Enid.

  Magic must be given—freely!

  Despite her magic, Morgana’s body is a living organism—made of flesh and blood.

  What do you think? How much magic can such a bleeding human body hold?

  Maybe it was just . . . too much for her.

  As if she had to throw up—in a magical way.

  Like a kid who quickly gobbles up all her Halloween candy at once.

  Magic must be given—freely!

  Suddenly it all made sense, hitting me like a slap in the face. Reason, magic, intuition—or whatever may have been working behind the scenes—had sent me a message. Shown me a way out.

  Overkill.

  Wasn’t that how Merlin had done it?

  He had overexerted Morgana with his magic.

  Had Jared tried that? Was that it?

  But why hadn’t it worked? How was she managing to handle so much magic? Had she taken up so much in droplets that chasing those with the remainder, which Jared had injected into her, couldn’t harm her? Was it simply too late?

  Maybe.

  But I . . . I was still in possession of all my magic. I weighed this, looking straight at the dark witch. Would she be able to handle it?

  “What shall we do with you?” Morgana asked. “You can’t stay here.”

  She began to pace in front of me, thinking.

  “Kill her, Mistress,” one of the damnati thoughtlessly said. He immediately pulled back his neck as Morgana fixed her eyes on him.

  “Who allowed you to speak?” Morgana snapped at him, then put on a sweet smile and slowly approached the scarface. This total moron had obviously volunteered.

  “No one here speaks without being spoken to. Understood?” she warbled in a honey-sweet voice.

  “Beg your pardon, Mistress,” the addressed whispered. He trembled so badly that his spear blurred before my eyes.

  “Now you did it again,” Morgana said, coldly but with satisfaction. She spread her arms, raised her palms toward the sky, and slowly lifted them. The damnatus tracked her movement, and soon he was levitating and trembling above the ground. Morgana indicated a circular motion with her long index finger.

  “Mistress, please,” the damnatus pleaded. Then he whirled about on his axis, with his insides appearing to rotate faster than his outside. A second later, he hit the ground with a strange, slopping noise. The sight was so repulsive that even the damnati, who were no doubt capable of stomaching almost anything, stepped back in disgust. A bag of skin wrapped in a stinking cloak, filled with a gel of innards and bone splinters—that was all that was left of the damnatus who had just wished death upon me.

  Morgana smiled, satisfied. A second later she was with me again.

  “So, what shall we do with you?”

  No one answered this time. Morgana looked at me smugly, as if I were still the same helpless girl I’d been back at the clearing in Oxford when she had made this pact with Jared. Again, I looked at him. He had entered into it to save my life. A tear ran down my cheek. Now he had done it again. He had forced his magic into Morgana. To protect me. I knew my plan amounted to a suicide mission—but I didn’t care. Nothing was left for me to live for. If I couldn’t save him, perhaps I would at least be able to rid Avalon of this blight. Wasn’t there something heroic about sacrificing oneself to rid the world of this evil witch’s tyranny?

  That had to be worth something. Maybe that had been my destiny all along. Maybe that was what the Prophecy spoke of. Maybe I never stood a chance of saving Jared. Maybe everything I had experienced—all those terrible things happening to me and all the people I’d encountered along the way—had led me to this place, to exactly this moment. Maybe I was the only one who could do it. I had to try.

  With grim determination, I lifted my head and stared into Morgana’s eyes. For a moment I thought I saw something akin to fear reflected in them.

  “What are you doing?” she asked wearily.

  At that moment my power returned.

  Power, hatred, and fire. Blazing flames shot through my body. I felt myself start to tremble but did nothing to prevent it. The fire spread. It took hold of me from head to foot, from inside to outside. I closed my eyes to arm myself for what stood before me. Maybe it was only a gesture of departure to say farewell to the part of myself I was about to inject with all available force into Morgana.

  I looked at Jared one last time.

  “I love you!” I whispered.

  Then I reared up and, with a piercing cry, pushed out a glistening golden-green cone of light from my chest—straight into Morgana.

  I felt torn from my body. The pain surpassed anything I’d ever experienced. My bones were burning brightly. I feared my skull would burst open along its crest at any moment. My eyes turned in their sockets. All that linked me to this life was severed. All I’d once been and all that made me was shredded in an instant. My name, my life, myself. The last thing I heard was my own scream. Then I slumped down into darkness.

  CHAPTER 12

  I felt angry, snorting breath on my neck.

  Am I dead?

  Something moist and cold was nudging me. Sniffing my hair.

  I heard a strong wingbeat.

  I blinked and willed my eyes open. A giant eagle-like creature with mighty wings had landed at my feet. Something nudged at my back again, more firmly this time. I turned sideways and looked into the golden-red eyes of a monstrous barghest leaning over me. When he saw that I was awake, he sat on his haunches.

  What is happening? Where am I?

  I propped myself up on my elbows, looked around . . . and couldn’t believe what I saw. There was war. No other word could describe what was happening in the clearing.

  Nymphs—those beings Ruth described as utterly peaceful—were riding with flowing hair on the backs of gigantic behemoths. The reverberating roars of these primeval armored animals sounded like a horn blowing the signal for an attack. The earth shook under their massive legs. They trampled everything and left paths of destruction like whirling tornadoes. There was growling and hissing throughout the tent city, always followed by golden-red eyes flashing in the dark, then hoarse cries that immediately died off. Panic spread among the damnati. They ran like frightened chickens, bumping into each other, tumbling to the ground, and scrambling up. Wherever glowing eyes flashed, a cry went through the crowd, and then it was silent. One by one, the barghests fought—or rather, tore—through the camp. I counted thirteen of the huge cats around me. They stormed in from all sides and soaked the ground with stinking damnati blood. Shrill screams and thundering roars drove the scarfaces apart, crumbled their protective walls, and mowed them down.

  I blinked and caught site of a freshly cast-up earth mound. Goblins appeared by the hundreds from holes in the ground, set traps, and cut the throats of the scarfaces they brought down. Little blue pixies swirled in swarms through the air, biting, pinching, and jabbing the fumbling damnati. One they
drove to the basin in which the kelpie was captive. The damnatus stumbled and fell into the water, thrashing wildly. The water foamed up, then turned red. Mighty eagle-like creatures circled high above in the overcast sky, dived on the cloaked figures, plunged huge talons into their shoulders, lifted them in the air as they screamed, then dropped them from high up. Some died immediately, while others lay whimpering and moaning on the ground, limbs twisted in all directions.

  Though I was having trouble believing it, Avalon was striking back!

  The mewing of the barghest over me drew my attention. Again and again he nudged me with his cold muzzle as if to tell me something. I looked around—then my eye caught it. Less than five yards away, Morgana floated in the air, shaking as if in a fever. Her eyes were rolling in their sockets, flickering wildly. Her long fingers curled into claws as her body curved and twisted as if possessed by the devil. Her mouth foamed. Somehow I managed to get on my feet. I held my breath. At that moment the golden-green light broke out of her, bundled into a pulsing ball, and stood still halfway between her and me as if waiting for my consent.

  The battle raged around us, but at that moment I was enshrouded in silence. I straightened my back, arched my chest, and spread my arms. For a fraction of a second, the light ball hesitated, but then it began to move.

  Whoom!

  It rammed into me with full force. I gasped and went down on my knees. Pure, unadulterated magic flooded every cell. I groaned while the power pulsed inside me. It filled me, took complete control, and flowed wildly inside me. Then it found its spot. The pressure relented. I slowly rose.

  I looked back at Morgana. It wasn’t over yet. Her teeth chattered. She still foamed and trembled as she fought to control the demon inside her. Her eyes fluttered as a white-golden light erupted from her. It made its way out through the witch’s eyes, nose, mouth, fingers, and toes to bundle, just as my magic had, into a ball. I needed a moment to understand what that meant. My eyes widened.