The Pendragon Codex

Home > Other > The Pendragon Codex > Page 15
The Pendragon Codex Page 15

by D. C. Fergerson


  “We have much to discuss,” Merlin started.

  Cora raised a hand, stopping him. She shifted in her seat to face Julian, leaning close. “Before we get into this, you will never pull that stunt again,” she warned, pointing to the door behind her. “Those people in there are family to me. I won’t take Lucius using them as leverage against me, I’ll be damned if I let you do it. Just who the hell do you think you are?”

  Julian turned his head, stunned. He pointed at his chest. “You’re asking me that question?”

  “Oh, don’t play the wounded victim with me, you arrogant prick,” Cora said, raising her voice. Julian’s mouth fell open. “Oh, I know you can’t believe I just talked to you like that. You’ve had a fairytale wizard for a babysitter and an unlimited bank account your whole life, I’m sure you’re not used to people telling you what they think of you.”

  One corner of Julian’s mouth curled up. “Please, tell me how it is, love.”

  “I know your type all too well,” she continued, wagging a finger at him. “Money bought you the best of everything. You worked hard, sure, but it was pure narcissism. I bet you were a popular football player in school and went straight to the officer’s club when you joined up with the Army.”

  Merlin sighed. “This is getting us-”

  “Then!” Cora continued, shouting, “You find out you’re from a long line of kings and dragon slayers of fable, and the only thing more rewarding than the praise of being a good soldier is a call to be a legend. So, you broke into Buckingham Palace and came out with freakin’ Excalibur, like that didn’t go straight to your big, fat head.”

  Cora finally stopped to take a breath. The rant surprised even herself, but she had been keeping a lot of air in that balloon since she arrived. Somewhere outside the sub, Vincent was evoking glee from her catharsis. The little bastard didn’t even need to be present to enjoy her telling Julian off. Julian held her gaze for a few moments before he decided to reply.

  “Maybe you’re right,” he replied. “But if you think I’m going to take insults from some foul-mouthed drunken runabout, you’re in for an unpleasant surprise.”

  “What the f-”

  “That’s enough,” Merlin said as Cora got up from her chair. “Sit down, Cora, please. I have things you both need to hear, and neither of you are going to like it, judging by this ridiculous display.”

  Cora sighed and addressed Merlin. “I’m sorry, I needed to get it off my chest. I know he’s your boy, and that’s fine. We just don’t get along. I’m going for Crowley whether he helps or not. If he does, great, and then we can go our separate ways.”

  “I keep my word,” Julian said, leaning into her view.

  “It’s much more than that,” Merlin said. “If you two could stop squabbling for two minutes, perhaps I could get to the point.”

  He traced a circle of sparks into the air, then cast his hand into the hole he’d created. He produced the ancient tome he’d shown her earlier, the Pendragon Codex. The portal in mid-air closed up as he set the book down and opened it.

  “Certain things have come to light in recent days,” Merlin said, turning yellowed pages. “A pattern has emerged as I’ve walked with your family, Julian. Cora was the missing piece of a puzzle I’ve been staring at for a thousand years.”

  Cora’s head snapped back. “You’re not going to try and tell me I’m a Pendragon, are you? I’m not even part British. My mom’s side came to America from Ireland in the 1920’s.”

  “Hardly, my dear,” Merlin chuckled. “Quite the opposite, in fact. It is because you are not part of the Pendragon line that I can see you so clearly now for what you are.”

  Finding the page he was looking for, he turned the book so it faced them. Cora stood up from her chair and leaned over the desk, Julian right beside her. The page was written in a runic script lost to time, but as her eyes came to rest on it, the shapes shifted and transformed to letters, then words in English. The date listed the entry as June 10, 546.

  Cora spent much of the day with me, exchanging tales as she could. Her speech veiled, she said she feared and respected the River of Time, and I should be wise to do so, as well. What she has come for, she did not find. Arthur is gone from us, his heirs only children right now. It was not my council that she sought, but some wisdom to bring to her generals. In the afternoon, she...

  Thick droplets of ink stained the words that followed. Cora shook her head, pointing at the blotch.

  “It is not meant for you to see, my dear,” he said with a respectful bow.

  Julian stood erect and motioned to the page with his hand. “What does this mean?”

  Merlin beckoned them both to sit with a wave of his hands. “Cora came to me in the past, shortly after Arthur died. I didn’t realize it until now. She sought out advice from Arthur himself, because of his encounters with Lucius. She wanted to bring new insight to her generals...in short, you.”

  Julian laughed. “Me? Her general? Has your head finally gone to pot?”

  “For over fifteen hundred years, I have served your line, since the day Arthur received Excalibur,” Merlin replied. “It was never meant as some God-given birthright to the throne. It was meant to slay Lucius. That is the destiny of the blade. The Pendragons are its wielders,” he turned to Cora, eyes serious. “We have chased him across continents, holding him at bay for centuries, never allowing him time to sit still and amass power. We were buying time for the arrival of the one who could put an end to his machinations. You, Cora.”

  “No,” Cora shook her head. Her brow furrowed. She stood up with a start, knocking over her chair. “No. You do not put that on me. You said you don’t do prophecy.”

  Merlin’s face soured. “I don’t, my dear. I’m afraid that’s something you already knew by the time you came to see me. It took me until now to see it for myself.”

  “So, then this is just conjecture?” Julian said, crossing his arms. “I carry the blade that will slay Lucius once and for all, and yet you say I am in service...to her?”

  Merlin leaned forward, resting his arms on top of the book. “Search your heart, Julian. The souls within you, they know I speak true. You are a warrior, not a ruler. You are the embodiment of the greatest knight that ever lived. You are her knight.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Cora said, still shaking her head. She stepped forward and nudged Julian’s arm. “Tell him it’s not true. You hate my guts. There’s no way that can be right.”

  He folded his head in his hands and leaned in. Shutting his eyes, he appeared to be concentrating. Perhaps he was reaching into the chorus of voices that lived in his head. Certainly, a line of kings and Crusaders, or soldiers and revolutionaries would tell him not to follow the loudmouth drunk into a final battle with the dragon. As he picked his head up, he stared at Merlin. His face stone, she couldn’t read a thing about how he felt.

  “You’re sure?” he asked.

  “I do not dare make prophecy,” Merlin replied. “I am telling you what you both already know. Only one of you has Lucius’ eye. Only one of you has Lucius’ ear. He already knows who his enemy is.”

  Cora gasped. Her chest tightened. The weight of the world fell on her shoulders, suffocating her with a responsibility she didn’t want. She hadn’t believed a word Merlin had said until then. There was no denying the logic. Lucius knew it from the day he met her. He wasn’t treating the other artifact holders like her. They didn’t have him on speed dial. Her eyes filled with tears.

  “I don’t want any of this,” she whispered.

  Julian blew out a long breath. His eyes said his whole world shattered, too. Cora couldn’t spare a shred of emotion for his bruised ego, not when the fate of humankind was just placed at her doorstep.

  “I do not make this revelation lightly,” Merlin said, his voice solemn. “Julian has had a lifetime to prepare for his role. You’ve had months. But the war has already begun.”

  “What...what do I do? I don’t even know what that means for me,�
� Cora said, her mind awash in confusion.

  Merlin turned his attention to Julian. “It’s time.”

  Julian shifted uncomfortably and looked Cora up and down. After a pause, he nodded and motioned Cora to the door. “Alright, then. Come with me.”

  “What? Where are we going now?” Cora asked.

  “If...if what Merlin says is true, then you need to know what we’re working with,” Julian hesitated. He shook off his self doubt and waved her over again as he walked for the door. “Come with me.”

  She followed him through winding metal corridors without a word, until they arrived at a door guarded by six men. The most security for any location she’d seen on the ship, each soldier looked fit enough to cage fight with trolls. Julian looked at the men and sighed.

  “Entrance,” he said.

  “When?” a soldier said with conviction.

  “I was a boy,” Julian replied.

  “Who?” another soldier snapped.

  “I saw the dragon,” Julian said.

  “Why?” yet another soldier asked.

  “I raised my sword,” Julian replied.

  Two of the guards turned around, each producing a key from their pocket. They unlocked two unique locks on either side of the door. All the men parted from Julian’s way, revealing a biometric lock beside the door. He placed his hand on the scanner. Within seconds, a third lock on the door clicked. Taking hold of the handle, he looked over his shoulder to Cora.

  “This is only the start,” he said. “Once we’ve dealt with Crowley, this is what we do next. This is how we end this.”

  Pushing open the door, he stepped in and rested his back against it, holding it open for Cora to walk through. As she entered the room, tall, metal racks partitioned the area into aisles. The objects on the shelf were random - a gun, an old leather doctor’s bag, a shirt so big it looked like a blanket. Her eyes wandered as she walked further into the room. At the end of the first row, she noticed the dagger, magic box, pistol, and an amethyst carafe that Madeline had turned over. She spun on her heels and faced Julian.

  “Are these all artifacts?”

  Julian nodded and joined at her side. “Thirty-two, at present. Some of my men are in the UNS and Spain at the moment, getting some of the easier-to-acquire ones we’ve discovered.”

  Cora shook her head in disbelief. Objects that sat in museums for over a century lined the shelves, each one priceless for its historical significance, each one a weapon in a new cold war.

  “We have to get these into the hands of those that will join us,” Julian said. Crossing his arms, he sighed. “We have to continue the salvage operation of the Project Phoenix drives. We have to find new ways to seek out those that weren’t on the list. There’s so much work to be done.”

  Cora stepped closer to Julian and met his gaze. “If we’re going to do this, let’s do it. No more games, no more fighting amongst ourselves. If there really are 687 of us on each side, we’re bound to not like some of them.”

  “Eyes on the prize, as it were,” Julian nodded. His jaw clenched for a second. “I’m sorry I called you a drunken runabout.”

  “I accept your apology,” Cora bowed her head.

  A moment passed. Julian motioned a wheel with his hand. “Anything to say to me?”

  “Yes,” Cora said. “I know that was hard for you. I appreciate it.”

  One eye twitched. Cora thought he might burst a blood vessel. She may have been blunt earlier, but she meant every word she said. There was nothing to apologize for. Julian grumbled to himself.

  “I need a shower, some grub, and we need to start planning to get Crowley,” she said.

  Julian lead the way back out of his vault. “Very good, then. An hour?”

  “Yes, that’d be perfect,” she replied.

  As she started for the door, she heard a male voice, faint and raspy.

  “Hey, lady.”

  Cora looked around the room, though she couldn’t figure out where the voice came from.

  “Lady, come here,” he said again.

  That time, Cora traced the sound to an old, dark wooden box the size of a milk crate sitting on a shelf. She jumped back away from it.

  “Something is talking inside that box Madeline gave us!” she said, pointing at it.

  Julian opened the door and beckoned her to leave. His tone still dry, he hardly seemed fazed by it at all. “Yeah, we’re pretty sure that’s not meant for our side. Best leave that one be, then.”

  Cora shook her head and jogged out the door, grateful to be rid of the chill that went down her spine.

  “Technology, magic, spirits, and now tiny evil creatures living in boxes. This war is going to get pretty weird,” she said to herself as she took to the hallways.

  Suicide Plan

  She couldn’t put her finger on what was so annoying about the meal sitting in front of her. It was a classic Sunday Roast, complete with Yorkshire Pudding and roasted potatoes, not the typical fare you’d expect from the mess hall of a renegade submarine. The savory taste of the homemade gravy would have made Cora close her eyes to enjoy it. Instead, she stared down at the plate as if it made disparaging remarks about her mother.

  “You don’t like it?”

  Cora glanced up. Michael smiled and sat down beside her with a half-eaten tray of the same meal.

  “It’s delicious,” she replied, poking and prodding the beef with her fork. “That’s the problem. It’s too good.”

  Michael shrugged and stuffed a potato wedge in his mouth. “It’s quite good, I’ll give you that, but it’s no Blacklock. Have you ever eaten there?”

  “My mentor, Richard, said it was ‘the only place in London worth eating.’ I guess he wasn’t a fan of British cuisine,” Cora replied. “This isn’t quite that, but it’s damn close. Did Julian make a five-star chef go rogue or something?”

  Michael had a laugh. “Truth is stranger than fiction. Chief Jones is an artifact holder.”

  Cora’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding.”

  “Not at all,” Michael replied between bites. “It makes sense if you think about it. If we’re to be at war, he will be responsible for the morale of us all.”

  Cora leaned closer. Michael was older and more seasoned a soldier than all the young men around them. Whether it was that or Giovanna was right and Cora needed a man, he was looking handsome in his fatigues. Even if he wasn’t her type, she was a sucker for men in uniform.

  “So, what’s your role to be?” she asked, a sly smile curling the corners of her mouth. “Julian’s number one guy?”

  “Wrong tree to bark at, Miss Blake,” Michael said with a polite smile. “Not you specifically, I’m sure you’re lovely, but...”

  Cora’s eyes flared. “Oh, I didn’t realize. Wait! You...and Julian...”

  “He would be so lucky!” Michael laughed so hard he had to hold his stomach. “No, not at all. Our relationship has never been anything but professional. That’s the only team we play the same side for, far as I’m aware.”

  “Sorry,” Cora said, holding her hands up. “I can be so nosy when I don’t mean to be. I have so many questions.”

  “For me?”

  “In general, but yeah,” Cora replied. She turned her seat toward him. “You have Robin Hood’s bow? You’ve had it for ten years, you said? I mean, that makes you an artifact holder before any of us knew what that meant!”

  Michael cocked his head to side and set down his fork. “Yes and no. I had the memories and experiences, and I knew it was supernatural, probably related to The Awakening, but I had no idea what it meant. It wasn’t until about six months ago when Julian started talking to some of us under his command about the war that was coming. I don’t remember if it was something he said or Merlin, but I went from listening to his talk of artifacts to ‘he just described what happened to me.’ That’s when I knew I had to follow him.”

  “Now we’re planning to get ourselves killed attacking Lucius’ little prison,” Cora said, her
excitement soured.

  Michael shook his head. “Julian has kept me on the sidelines too long. Watching you, being a contact to our field agents,” he paused for a moment to contemplate. He rested his palm on the back of Cora’s hand. “Please, whatever we’re doing, let me come. Every time I shut my eyes, I see Dante in that car and...I deserve the chance to avenge him.”

  Cora’s head dropped. Delicious as it was, she didn’t feel like eating anymore. The conversation got a little too real for her liking. Her mind went to finding a bottle of anything to be alone with. She knew that reflex was a sign of her inability to cope with complicated emotions, but even the logic of understanding it didn’t change the desire. She was grateful for the distraction when Michael’s Arcadia buzzed.

  He put a finger behind his ear and pushed against his skull. The mechanical click of the button embedded in his head made a shiver jolt through Cora’s body.

  “Go ahead,” Michael said. “...yeah, I’m with her now...on our way.”

  Cora stood up with her tray and carried it to the garbage receptacle. She turned around and waited for Michael to do the same.

  “His Majesty beckons us?” she asked, adding a curtsey for flair.

  Michael snickered and walked for the exit. “You’re too hard on him. He’s abrasive, but part of it is that he’s terrified if he doesn’t get everyone to peak performance, he’s going to start losing people. I think that scares him more than Lucius.”

  Cora scoffed. She hadn’t had a single meaningful or deep conversation with Julian yet. They were so busy repulsing each other, she didn’t know they had the same fears in common. The battle at Heaven’s Crest was the most frightening time in her life. Not because the UNS military tried to bring her to heel, but because the people around her were good people. They were in harm’s way because of her. Her mind went back to Pops and Living Wind, the most personal cost of that battle.

  Lost in thought, she hadn’t realized where she was until Michael stopped at the door to the control room and waved her in. Gideon sat limp at the front of the room, already plugged into NeuralNet. Merlin sat at a computer desk with Julian over his shoulder. In the corner of the room, Madeline and Tesla stood side by side. Johnny and Giovanna sat at the other two computer stations, chairs turned to Cora.

 

‹ Prev