Gawain (Knights of Excalibur Book 1)

by Hanley, Donald

  “Trelawney joined Pendragon five years ago,” Arthur added. “Viviane’s imposter was living as him long before we recruited him. She’s playing a very long game,” he sighed.

  “That’s so sad,” Trisha said quietly, and they all nodded. “But that’s all there was, right, just the one spy?”

  Arthur grimaced. “I wish I could promise you that, Patricia, but we just can’t be certain, not after what happened. All I can tell you is that we will remain vigilant.” Trisha shivered and stared down at her glass.

  “So what about Merlin, then?” she asked. “Was he real or did I just imagine him? No one else saw him, after all.”

  “I think the fact that you walked through that door a few minutes ago answers that question,” Nim said dryly. “Certainly the doctors treating you couldn’t explain why you suddenly had no sign of any injuries whatsoever, despite all the previous x-rays and lab tests that proved otherwise.”

  “I’m surprised they let me go,” Trisha said ruefully. “I thought for sure they were going to squirrel me away to some secret lab and run experiments on me.”

  “I believe the official explanation on your discharge orders was spontaneous autonomous regeneration,” Arthur smiled, “which is medical jargon for unexplained miraculous recovery. They’ll be talking about you for years, Patricia.”

  “Great,” she muttered. “Maybe I should change my name and move to another country.”

  “I can arrange that, if you like.” She looked at him askance, not entirely certain whether he was kidding.

  “But how did Merlin fix me?” she persisted. “He’s supposed to be locked away somewhere where we can’t reach him and he can barely get messages to you guys. How can he possibly show up in my room, wave his magic wand, and take a bullet out of my back?”

  “I told you he was the most powerful wizard the world has ever known,” Nim reminded her.

  “That doesn’t really explain anything. That just means he’s better than you.” Nim frowned, just the slightest crease forming between her brows and Trisha hastened to apologize. “No, I didn’t mean it like that! I know you can do the most amazing things!”

  “No, you’re right, Trisha. Merlin is better than me and Viviane and everyone else, but he’s fallible. He let himself be taken.” She shook her head. “I wish I could have helped you after you were shot, but my skill just wasn’t enough to spare you and everyone else that pain and anguish.”

  “I’m sure you tried your best,” Trisha told her awkwardly.

  “Nim’s best is very, very good, Patricia,” Arthur said firmly. “It was not for lack of skill or effort that she failed.” He nodded at Nim. “We were planning to save the gifts for later, but perhaps this would be a better time.”

  “Gifts?” She watched Nim set aside her wine glass and cross over to the piano, where a pair of small boxes tied with ribbons sat. Nim took them both and handed the one with the white bow to Arthur, keeping the red one as she faced Trisha with an apologetic smile.

  “I’m sure you probably want to forget this last week, Trisha,” she said, “but I thought perhaps you might like a memento of your miracle.” She held out the box and Trisha took it uncertainly. It was unmarked, the size of a typical jewelry store box. “Open it,” Nim urged her. “I’m sure Santa won’t mind.”

  Trisha took a deep breath and slowly pulled the end of the ribbon, unraveling the bow. She carefully lifted the lid of the box and peeked inside, and then she set the cover aside with a frown and pulled out a thin silver chain with a metallic charm dangling from the loop. It was heavy and curiously misshapen, like a badly-crafted mushroom, with odd markings engraved all around its base.

  “Well, this is very ... interesting,” she said hesitantly. “I’m sure it’s – wait a minute.” She blinked and half-rose from her seat. “Is this the bullet?” She froze with the chain held out at arm’s length. “This was in me?”

  “Trisha!” Hawk told her urgently, pressing her gently back onto the couch. “It’s all right, it can’t hurt you anymore.” He carefully extracted the chain from her hand and held the bullet in the palm of his hand. “One of the nurses found it in your bed when they were running all those tests on you. She gave it to me and I gave it to Nim. I didn’t know she was planning to turn it into jewelry, though,” he added with a sharp look at Nim.

  She ignored him and took the bullet from his hand, holding it up between her thumb and forefinger. “This is why I couldn’t help you, Trisha,” she said. “This bullet is pure silver and these runes are designed to cancel magic.”

  “A silver bullet?” Trisha breathed. “You mean like the ones they use to kill werewolves in the movies?”

  “That’s exactly what this is for,” she nodded. “They can’t transform when they’re hit by one of these. It makes them much easier to kill.”

  “Oh my God.” She looked up at Hawk with wide eyes. “You mean if we had one of these we could have stopped Chantal?”

  “If we’d known ahead of time what we were dealing with,” Hawk nodded grimly. “There’s a cache of them in the vaults downstairs.”

  “That may be where Trelawney got this one,” Arthur added heavily. “Viviane has no reason to kill her own therion.”

  Trisha reached out hesitantly and then pulled her hand back. “Is it safe?” she asked nervously. “Can I touch it?”

  “The runes are still active but not as potent, now that it’s been removed,” Nim told her. “It may be able to protect you from certain charms and enchantments. Or,” she said, closing her fist around the bullet, “I can destroy it. Whatever you wish, Trisha.”

  Trisha looked from her to Hawk, hoping for some guidance, but he had his eyes downcast, unwilling to share his thoughts. The decision was hers.

  “I think I’d like to keep it,” she said finally. “If nothing else, it’ll be a reminder of what I almost lost. Thank you. It’s a wonderful gift.”

  “May it serve you well.” Nim undid the clasp and fastened the necklace around Trisha’s neck. The bullet rested between her breasts and Trisha imagined she felt a tingle through the fabric of her dress. Nim kissed her lightly on her forehead and stepped back.

  “And now your next gift, Patricia,” said Arthur, taking Nim’s place with the other box in his hands. “Tell me, do you plan to return to Boston now that all this is over?”

  “Well, yes, of course,” she said with an uncertain frown. “After I go visit Mom and Dad for Christmas. After we go, I mean,” she corrected herself, casting a quick glance at Hawk as the tips of her ears warmed.

  “I’m sure they’re anxious to see you with their own eyes,” Arthur smiled, “but what I really meant was, what are you planning to do now?” At her puzzled look, he clarified, “Will you go back to the ER as a nurse?”

  “Well, sure, that’s my job. What else would I do?”

  “Let me offer you an alternative.” Arthur held out the box with the white ribbon and Trisha took it hesitantly. It was lighter than the first one and something rattled inside when she shook it gingerly.

  “This isn’t a piece of my spine or something?” she asked doubtfully. Arthur shook his head with a grin and gestured for her to open the box. She did so and found a Pendragon ID card inside with her name and photo. It didn’t say Guest. She picked it up and looked it over, front and back. “What’s this for?”

  “Let me state up front that you’re under no obligation to accept my offer, Patricia. If you decide to go back to Boston and return to the life you knew, we’ll give you our thanks and say our goodbyes and speed you on your way. However,” he spread his hands, “we would very much like you to join us here.”

  She blinked at him. “Because of the cairngorm.” Arthur inclined his head. “Because I’m the only one who can use it, apparently.” Arthur nodded again.

  “Merlin’s reappearance gives me hope that we’re finally close to ending our conflict with Viviane,” he told her, “but make no mistake, Patricia, the path ahead of us is still dark and dangerous. The in
juries you suffered last week may not be the last. You can bow out at any time and none of us would blame you.”

  Trisha shivered and Hawk sat beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She smiled at him gratefully but sobered quickly. “You’re all staying, though, right? None of you are quitting.” They all shook their heads no, even Hawk. “Then I’m staying too,” she told Arthur firmly. “Except –”

  His pleased smile faltered. “Except?”

  “I don’t know where the cairngorm is,” she confessed ruefully. “I have no idea what happened to it after I was, you know, shot.”

  “Ah, that’s my cue.” Hawk dug into the inner pocket of his jacket and extracted yet another box, this one tied with a gold ribbon. He held it out to her and she eyed it cautiously.

  “This better not be an engagement ring,” she warned him. “I hardly know you.”

  Hawk chuckled and shook his head. “We’ll have plenty of time to fix that. Go ahead, open it.”

  Trisha did and found the cairngorm nestled on a thick pad of cotton inside. It looked exactly the same, except that the runes around the outside were a lot easier to see now. She held the box up close to her eyes to make sure. “Did someone do something to the letters?”

  “I had a local jeweler re-engrave then,” Hawk explained. “Do you know how hard it is to find someone who’s willing and able to carve futhorc runes on a thousand-year-old pin the weekend before Christmas?” he grumbled.

  “Well, I appreciate the effort,” Trisha laughed, giving him a quick peck on his cheek. “I guess I can just wear this like a regular pin for now.” She reached into the box to remove it and gasped as the stone flared brightly at her touch. She jerked her hand back with a shocked gasp. “Oh my God!” she breathed. “Did you see that?”

  “Shit, it didn’t do that before.” Hawk carefully reached out and touched the stone with his fingertip. Trisha flinched in anticipation, but nothing happened. “Try it again.”

  The others leaned in as she carefully pressed her finger to the pin. The bright orange glow blazed again for a moment and then shrank to a smaller gleam on one side of the stone. A matching spot appeared on the inside of the box and on the wall above the piano. Cautiously, Hawk reached out and waved his hand in the air in between and the spot appeared on his palm. He quickly pulled his hand back but it was undamaged. Trisha removed her finger and the glow faded away. “Oh my God,” she whispered again. “What happened? Why is it doing that now?”

  Arthur stared at the wall where the spot had appeared. “Northeast again,” he murmured. “Nim, could the engraving have repaired the spell on the stone somehow?”

  “Let me see.” She carefully lifted the cairngorm from the box but it didn’t react to her touch. She poked it experimentally and then cupped the pin between her hands, turning around slowly. “The cairngorm is unchanged,” she said thoughtfully, “which means …” She eyed Trisha speculatively.

  Trisha shrank back as everyone turned to look at her. “What are you looking at me for?” she asked apprehensively. “I haven’t changed!”

  “You said Merlin just talked to you. Are you sure he didn’t do anything else?”

  “No, he just sat there! Well,” she hesitated, “I think he might have touched me once. It’s kind of hazy now.”

  “Touched you?” Hawk echoed, bristling. “Where?”

  “Get your mind out of the gutter,” she told him in exasperation. “Here, on my head.”

  “May I?” Nim reached out and gently pressed her fingertips to Trisha’s forehead, closing her eyes. Her brows knitted together in a frown but she didn’t say anything when she stepped back.

  “Well?” Hawk prompted.

  “I’m not sure. I had no reason to probe her before so I have nothing to compare it to.” She looked at Trish with her head tilted to the side. “There is a spark there, though.”

  “A spark?” Trisha couldn’t tell from her expression if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  “I know you don’t like it when I use the word magic, Trisha,” Nim said with a hint of a smile playing on her lips, “but I can’t avoid it here. That spark is your magical potential.”

  “Trisha’s a wizard?” Hawk blurted in shock.

  “I am not!” Trisha protested. “Am I?”

  “A baby one,” Nim nodded. “I can’t tell if the spark was always there or Merlin placed it there, but you definitely have some power.” She held out the cairngorm to her but Trisha just eyed it uneasily. She shoved the box into Hawk’s hands.

  “You hang on to it,” she begged. “I might accidentally blind someone with it or blow something up.” Hawk chuckled and took the cairngorm, closing it up in the box and tucking it back into his pocket. “What a day this is turning out to be,” she breathed.

  “It’s not over yet,” Lucas grinned. “I have one more present for you.”

  “I don’t think I can take any more surprises,” she protested weakly. “Can’t I just take it home and open it later?”

  “This one’s a bit hard to wrap. I’ll be right back.” He jumped up the steps leading out of the pit and vanished down a hallway leading past the fireplace.

  “You’re all just being so nice to me,” Trisha told them uneasily. “It’s because I’m a Queen now, isn’t it?”

  “We’re nice to you because we like you, Trisha,” Hawk told her. “Being a Queen is just gravy.” He tried to lift her hand to kiss it but she yanked it away in feigned annoyance. At least he hoped it was feigned.

  “Here we go!” Lucas reappeared, cradling a bundle of something black and fuzzy in his arms. “I really hope you like him, ‘cause he’s been a pain in the butt all day.” A furry head with pointed ears and big yellow eyes popped up and looked around.

  “Mrow?” he said.

  Trisha drew in her breath and covered her mouth with both hands. “Oh my God! Marco? What are you doing here?” She jumped up and met Lucas halfway, carefully taking Marco into her hands and cuddling him against her chest. He sniffed her fingers, bopped his head against her chin, and allowed her to scratch behind his ears as he purred like an idling car engine. “I’m so sorry, Marco, I forgot all about you! How did you get him? Was he all right?” She held him up, his legs kicking in annoyance as she looked him over carefully. “He seems okay,” she said doubtfully. “What was he eating all this time? I only left him enough food for a couple of days.”

  “Nim had someone from the Boston office check on him while you were, well, laid up,” Lucas explained. “I thought you might want to see a friendly face after you woke up, so I asked them to bring him down this morning.”

  Nim looked embarrassed. “I didn’t want you returning home and finding him … gone.”

  “Thank you!” Trisha gushed. “Thank you, all of you! I don’t deserve everything you’ve done for me.” Her eyes teared up and she lifted a hand to wipe them away. Marco took advantage of her distraction and wriggled out of her grasp, landing on his feet and streaking straight for the Christmas tree. “Marco!”

  “I told you he’s been a butt,” Lucas muttered. “I still have the scars.” He knelt by the tree and peeked under the lower branches cautiously. “Come on out, you little devil cat.”

  “Let him be,” Arthur chuckled. “He can’t hurt anything.”

  “Yes, he can,” Trisha and Lucas said together. They looked at each other and laughed as something dinged. Trisha looked at the elevator curiously, wondering who else could possibly be visiting Arthur on Christmas Eve, but Nim immediately strode in the opposite direction.

  “Dinner is ready,” Arthur announced cheerfully, clapping his hands together. “I hope everyone’s hungry.”

  74

  Hawk led Trisha across the conversation pit and up into the dining room as Arthur followed Nim into the kitchen. The table was already laid out with five settings, gold-rimmed china plates, brass candlesticks, and way too many utensils and glasses neatly arranged around them. Engraved name cards placed the two of them on the long side of th
e table with their backs to the windows overlooking the patio, with Lucas and Ben across from them and Nim and Arthur on either end.

  Ben picked up one of the wine bottles standing in the middle of the table, inspecting the label, and then used a mahogany-handled corkscrew to pop out the cork and pour a few fingers in each of the glasses. Nim came out of the kitchen wearing a full-length apron, carrying a silver basket of dinner rolls covered by a cloth. They were fresh from the oven and smelled delicious, making Trisha’s stomach rumble. She hadn’t eaten in a week, since hospital meals didn’t count as real food.

  “Can I help?” she offered. Nim set the basket near the head of the table and shook her head.

  “No, Arthur and I will manage,” she said briskly, looking over the settings and carefully repositioning one of the forks. “Just relax, we’ll be ready in a moment.” She headed back to into kitchen just as Arthur came out with a covered casserole dish.

  “Who did all the cooking?” Trisha asked doubtfully. There was no sign of anyone else helping in the kitchen.

  “I prepared the main dishes and Nim did most of the sides,” Arthur replied. “She’s surprisingly domestic.”

  “I try not to make a habit of it,” Nim added absently, returning with a small tray of sliced vegetables, “but it’s a special occasion.” She set the tray down and followed Arthur back into the kitchen.

  “Is she married?” Trisha asked Hawk quietly, “or does she have a boyfriend?”

  Hawk shook his head with a frown. “I’ve never seen her with anyone and I mean never. She ... doesn’t seem interested.”

  “We call her the Ice Queen,” Lucas noted wryly. He handed Trisha one of the wine glasses and sipped from his own. “Not where she can hear us, of course,” he added, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Nim wasn’t standing behind him.

  “So she and Arthur aren’t –?”

  “Good God, no,” Hawk grimaced. “That would just be strange. Arthur’s had a few relationships, none of them particularly serious and none of them for very long.”