Return of the Grail King

by Theresa Crater

  “Camelot has fallen. The dream is dead,” he said.

  “Not dead, my liege.” Elizabeth turned his face so he was looking into her eyes. “It is postponed. Your dream will become the dream of all of England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland. The ideals of chivalry will spread over the world. You will return and bring peace.”

  His eyes held a look of wonder. “Truly, My Lady?”

  Before she could answer, Bedivere approached again, this time with awe written on his face.

  Arthur stifled a groan as he rose on his elbows. “Is it done?”

  “Truly, my lord.”

  “What did you see?”

  “I saw a hand, a lady’s hand, rise above the water and catch the sword.”

  “The sword is safe.” He laid back down, a look of peace on his face.

  It was then the priestess arrived and instructed the knights to put Arthur on a litter. The knights lifted him and carried him to the barge, the water rising to their knees. The priestesses got on the barge, surrounding Arthur. Elizabeth stood on the shore watching.

  The High Priestess turned to her and bowed. “My Lady, the circle closes. We will bring him to you.”

  Him? Who are they talking about? she wondered.

  Then a whirlwind lifted her and Elizabeth found herself back at The Oaks in the temple. The rest of the lodge stood blinking, trying to orient themselves.

  The white van was parked neatly between the painted lines to the left of the one story warehouse. The team listened, but heard nothing except the slight buzzing of a transformer somewhere close by. The aluminum framed windows in front were dark. Arnold signaled for Tyrone and Kate to check the back. They peeled off, one going right, the other left, stepping sharply around the corners, guns drawn. Then they disappeared. Leo checked the van, which was empty except for the hood they’d seen over Knight’s head.

  “Light in the back on the left.” Tyrone’s voice sounded quietly in his earpiece. “Flimsy door.”

  “Copy that,” Arnold said.

  “There’s some strange music playing,” Kate whispered.

  “Enter on my count. One.”

  He motioned for Leo and they stood on either side of the front entrance.

  “Two.”

  Tyrone pivoted, gun pointed.

  “Three.”

  Arnold kicked the door. It swung open easily.

  He pointed his flashlight and gun into the room and moved forward. A few steps in he stumbled over something large and soft.

  Leo pointed his light down.

  A man lay on his back, crimson blood pooling under him.

  Arnold felt for a pulse. “He’s dead, but still warm. She’s on a killing spree.”

  They sprinted through the front room and pushed through the next door, Leo snapping his gun to the right, then front. Arnold covered the left. A bank of electronic equipment filled one wall. Eerie moaning and whispering came from the speakers. On the other side stood a room, brightly lit, filled with mirrors.

  They opened the door. Knight sat on the ground staring at the body of Nina. She lay in the same position as the man in the front room, on her back, blood rapidly forming a puddle on the blue Persian carpet beneath her.

  Arnold whirled at a slight noise.

  A figure detached itself from the wall and moved closer to the light coming through the windows of the room. She stood with her hands away from her body, palms forward, and took a couple more steps toward Arnold. Everyone trained their guns on her.

  “Hello, Arnie.”

  Leo snorted at the incongruity of the nickname.

  She pulled off her balaclava.

  “Rainey.” Arnold lowered his gun. He motioned for the others to do the same. “What are you doing here?”

  “Your message said all hands on deck. Didn’t you want me?” Her voice was husky.

  Leo shot a glance at Arnold. The question sounded like more than a contract killer asking an employer about a job.

  “Of course,” Arnold answered.

  Kate moved to the side of the room and switched on a light. The woman stepped back toward the shadows. She was medium height, well muscled and lithe, with skin the color of well-creamed coffee. Her hair was pulled back in a tight chignon at the base of her skull, but when she’d pulled off her balaclava, a few strands had escaped and now hung in loose curls.

  “You killed them,” Arnold said.

  “The man shot at me. That woman had a dagger pointed over Knight’s heart. He was bleeding. She tried to stab me.” A look of mild amusement passed over her face.

  “It’s good to see you,” Arnold said.

  “Likewise.”

  Arnold realized the others were staring at them with various looks of confusion, incredulity, and amusement on their faces.

  “I think you know Leo,” he said.

  “Only by reputation. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Leo held out his hand.

  Rainey took another step back until her face was in full shadow again.

  Arnold pointed. “These folks are Knight’s security team.”

  Rainey might have nodded to acknowledge them. It was hard to tell. Then she waved to Arnold, turned and melted into the shadows of the next room.

  Arnold gave himself a little shake, then went to look for Knight.

  Knight sat on the rug next to Nina’s body, stroking her face. “Goodbye, my love.” Then he rose and stepped around Nina, approaching the group, his arms out as if he were welcoming them.

  Arnold looked carefully into the face of the man who the Le Clairs considered the most gifted wizard in the Americas, perhaps the western world. An air of grandeur surrounded him, even as he stood there in his pajamas, the buttons mismatched, his hair disheveled.

  “Are you hurt, Mr. Knight?” he asked

  “I am not a knight,” the man said. “You are. Do you not remember yourself, Sir Galahad?”

  A shiver ran the length of Arnold’s spine. “That’s your name, sir. Valentin Knight,” he said, enunciating clearly.

  Knight cocked his head at such an extreme angle that Arnold was reminded of an owl. His eyes widened in disbelief. “Do you not recognize me, Galahad? I am Merlin, High Mage of Camelot.”

  Oh, shit. Arnold thought.

  But before he could think what to do next, Valentin Knight put his hands on Arnold’s shoulders. “My good man, take me to the Lady of Avalon. I must help her free Guinevere from Mordred’s curse.”

  Given the circumstances, that made a strange kind of sense. Maybe he wasn’t entirely crazy.

  Arnold stepped to the side and made a flourishing bow he hoped approximated a medieval royal gesture. “Come with me, my Lord Merlin. Your chariot awaits.”

  Knight followed him out of the warehouse, somehow exuding gravitas in his pajamas and slippers.

  Tyrone came up to them. “I’ll go to Nina’s apartment and collect her computer and anything relevant.”

  “Thank you, Sir Kay.”

  Tyrone snorted like a spooked horse. Kate looked hopeful that he’d give her a name from that storied time, but Arnold interrupted Knight. “I’ll call my team. Meet us at the airport.”

  Elizabeth stumbled when she stepped back through the crystal. Abernathy emerged right behind her and reached out to steady her. She studied him for a moment, trying to remember who he’d been in Camelot.

  Anne cried out in pain.

  Forgetting all extraneous matters, Elizabeth ran to her and took her hands. “Breathe,” she said.

  After the contraction passed, Anne looked around her, frowning. “How did I get down here? What’s all this equipment?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  Anne frowned in concentration. “I had dreams. I was in Egypt, then some castle where I met—” She grabbed the metal sides of the hospital bed and took a breath to yell again.

  “Breathe through it,” Elizabeth said.

  She turned to the nurse. “When did she wake up?”

  “Just now,” Emma said.

 
“How long were we gone?”

  “About four hours.”

  “Time between contractions?”

  “It was every fifteen minutes, but that was five.”

  Elizabeth squeezed Anne’s hand. “I’ll be right over there,” she said and walked toward the crystal.

  Mordred’s face swam to the surface. I will have that baby, he said.

  She thought back to Knight, how he’d appeared in the crystal asking for her help, only he’d thought he was Merlin and she the Lady of Avalon. Was this the next piece of the puzzle?

  Anne cried out again. It had only been about two minutes. They didn’t have much time.

  Gerald watched with Katherine from the ballroom door. They had joined in with the ritual in meditation, watching what they could. Katherine channeled her energy to Anne. The lodge members had returned. Anne was awake, but it seemed the usurper still lurked in the crystal, determined to be the soul born to Anne and Michael.

  He heard a clamor at the front door, several voices shouting. He ran to the front of the house.

  “Have you found it yet?” Arnold was talking to Preston.

  “The code is complicated. Just be quiet for two seconds.”

  “Dana, take him into Gerald’s study. Let me know when you’ve got it.”

  “Yes, sir.” The two computer experts walked away. They’d left Sylvia with Knight’s system back in Maryland.

  Gerald approached Arnold and got his attention. “He hasn’t broken the encryption yet?”

  “He broke Knight’s code, but turns out it was a cover. Nina Lockhart was the real thief. We’ve got her computer now.”

  “Nina.” Gerald remembered her. A rather unpleasant, but beautiful woman. Young. Ambitious. He’d never figure out why Knight had let her into his elite lodge.

  “Wait, was?” he asked.

  Arnold nodded. “I’m afraid Nina is dead.”

  “How—” Gerald stopped dead when he saw Leo escorting Valentin Knight into the house. The man was wearing pajamas buttoned up the wrong way.

  “Ah, Sir Tristan,” Knight said to Gerald. “What a pleasure to find you here. Can you direct me to the Lady of Avalon?”

  Arnold pointed to Knight from behind him and mouthed, “He thinks he’s Merlin.”

  Gerald tried not to shake his head. He was still under the spell to some extent. Could this night get any crazier? It was dark by now. He’d looked out the window and watched the sunset after most of the lodge members had disappeared.

  “Right this way, Mage Merlin.” Gerald escorted Knight to the temple.

  David Wilt, the guardian of the ritual, opened the circle to admit them all. They walked toward the line of lodge members. Katherine ran to Anne.

  Winston Stuart stood at the bottom of Anne’s bed and was just taking off latex gloves. “She’s only dilated eight centimeters,” Gerald heard him say.

  “No, you can’t push yet,” Elizabeth was talking to Anne. “Katherine, where did you come from?”

  “Please, mother. You think I wouldn’t feel this?” She took Anne’s hand.

  “Ah, my Lady. There you are.” Knight walked over to Elizabeth and surveyed Anne and her attendants. “I see we are prepared here.”

  “That’s Valentin Knight,” Alycia whispered, her face lit with awe.

  “The Merlin of America,” Mary replied.

  “Yes, I am Mage Merlin.” Knight nodded his head to them in acknowledgment and wandered over to the large crystal ball. “And here we have Sir Mordred.”

  He stared into its depths, mumbling to himself in a language Gerald didn’t recognize. Anne stifled a groan and something swirled in the crystal.

  “Now, now,” Knight said, shaking his finger at the stone as if he were admonishing a child. “We’ll have none of that.”

  He turned back to Elizabeth. “There is one ingredient missing.”

  Chapter 24

  The Le Clair plane landed in Boston’s Logan International Airport. Grandmother Elizabeth’s secretary, Susan, had arranged for a helicopter to fly Michael straight to The Oaks just south of Marshfield. Once on board the helicopter that reminded Michael of a dragonfly, he put on the headphones and settled back, closing his eyes when the craft took off. The bubble top and small seat made him feel as if he’d drop straight down to the ground. Once they leveled out, he opened his eyes and watched the lights of ships headed toward Boston’s harbor.

  His right hand crept up to feel the hard edges of his crystal key beneath his shirt. After he’d found himself on the floor of the newly discovered temple in Egypt that he’d flown there to explore, he’d walked toward Tahir’s house. With a huge rumble, the ground had fallen in on the new temple just after he’d crossed the street and reached the Pizza Hut. He forced himself to keep going rather than stare at the spectacle. He found Tahir and his family rushing out of the house.

  Tahir spotted him. “What happened?”

  “The temple ceiling collapsed.”

  Tahir shook his head. “I can see that. Did you get it?”

  Michael fished for the silver chain under his shirt and held up the slender quartz tabby.

  “Good. Gerald called. You must get back. Anne is—”

  “—in labor,” Michael finished for him. “Grandmother Elizabeth told me.”

  “Elizabeth?” Tahir’s eyes widened in surprise.

  “Yes. It’s a long story, but it will have to wait. They need the crystal. Can you send me back through—”

  Tahir raised his palms to forestall Michael’s next word. “I have no control over the destination. You’ll have to fly.”

  “But that will take too long.”

  “Sorry. It’s the only option.”

  The new pilot had shaved two and a half hours off the eleven-hour flight from Cairo. Michael swore he’d started braking halfway across the Atlantic.

  The helicopter landed with a thud, and Michael jumped out and tore across the yard. Arnold opened the door. Michael tore through the front rooms, threw open the door to the ballroom and ran across. He halted, arms waving to keep his balance, when he found himself facing David’s sword. Then he realized the guardian was unsealing the temple so he could enter.

  David waved him in seconds later and Michael ran in, looking around wildly.

  “Ah, Sir Lancelot. Always late.” Knight held his arms out in welcome.

  Lord Merlin. He heard Lancelot’s voice in his mind.

  Michael didn’t recognize the man in front of the crystal ball, but given what he’d seen in the last two days, he was unsurprised by his attire.

  “Michael.” Anne sat up and reached out for him.

  He ran to her and took her gently in his arms. “My love,” he said.

  Guinevere, Lancelot whispered.

  “Yes, yes,” Grandmother Elizabeth tsked. “Now, let’s get down to business. Do you have the key?”

  Michael brought the crystal out from beneath his shirt.

  “Good. You know the situation?”

  “Mordred wants to stop the birth.”

  “Not exactly. He wants to inhabit the baby.”

  A burning fury rose up in Michael. “What do we do?”

  “Sir Lancelot,” It surprised Michael to find Valentin Knight standing next to him. “Now comes the time to rectify your mistake. Lady Guinevere’s betrayal—” he bowed his head to Anne “—and my own failure. If only Arthur had listened and married you, my Lady Claire.” He was looking at Cordelia Stuart, Winston’s wife and one of the more advanced mystics in the lodge.

  Cordelia pointed to herself, her eyes saucers.

  “Yes, m’lady. So, it was Arthur’s mistake as well.”

  Knight closed his eyes a moment, seeming to settle into himself. Then he opened them again and looked at each one in turn. “Now, do we have the keys?”

  Michael held his up. Anne fished hers out from beneath the hospital gown she’d been put in.

  “Since you are indisposed, m’lady, would you allow Lady Viviane the use of your stone this even
ing?”

  Anne pulled the necklace over her head and handed it to her grandmother.

  Michael took another necklace out of his pocket, this one topped with an ankh. “Tahir said you might need to borrow this one.”

  “Most excellent. If I might?” Michael handed the crystal over to Knight who arranged it in his palm, point out resting on his index finger, the bottom resting in his palm. The others did the same. “If you please.” He gestured toward the crystal ball in the center.

  As they walked forward, others from higher frequencies joined them. Anubis walked forward from the West in his human form, smiling at Elizabeth who took up the High Priestess position in the east. She felt the brush of a wing and saw that Isis stood beside her. Osiris accompanied Michael, and Nephthys took up a position in the South. Merlin stood in the North with Thoth, Master of Magic, beside him.

  He held up his stone and chanted in an ancient language, older than the Old Welsh he’d spoken to Nina, a language that vibrated the surrounding room, a language that seemed to have formed the very structure of Earth Herself.

  In the crystal ball, Mordred turned and screamed, “No!”

  Behind him, a barge came from the mists. A tall woman dressed in white flowing robes poled it. Behind her, a figure lay prone in the belly of the boat, his head resting on the lap of the Lady of Avalon. Seven other priestesses surrounded the other two, holding lamps. From their lips rose a most enchanting song that grew louder as they approached.

  Water lapped around the feet of those in the lodge. They could smell the wet reeds, the scent of water lilies. A hunting kingfisher called from the distance. The barge thudded into the sand and the woman poling the boat jumped out.

  The Lady of Avalon looked down tenderly at the man who lay in the barge, his armor red with blood from a wound to his side, his eyes closed, face pale. She leaned down close to his ear and whispered, “King Arthur, it is time to come back now.”

  The man stirred. His cheeks seemed to take on more color. His hair was still the tawny gold they all remembered from their journeys. He opened his eyes. Still the same lake blue. He scrambled to his feet, looking around. His gaze rested on Michael. “Lance! My friend. It is good to see you.”