Shades of Avalon

by Carol Oates

  I picked up her hand, tiny in mine. Amanda only appeared delicate on the outside—inside she was brave and determined. My face scrunched up as I thought about appearing weak in her eyes. She saw I couldn’t handle this before I’d accepted the reality for myself. Somewhere along the line, her faith in me had been shaken.

  “Do you think asking for help makes me weak?”

  She placed her hand on my forearm with an emphatic shake of her head. “No, no. You can’t think that way, Ben.” She cupped my cheek with her other hand, and I leaned into it, the heat of her warm palm, soft and very alive against my skin. “It shows you’re strong. Asking for help shows you are strong enough to recognize when you need help.”

  “I’ve been an ass,” I admitted. “Thinking I know better than everyone else. Thinking I am better than everyone else.”

  Amanda nodded and smiled. “I had faith. You’re a smart guy, Ben Pryor. I knew you’d come around eventually.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t promise much, but I will try harder.”

  I crushed her to my chest, earning a yelp and then a giggle. I held her tightly anyway, dipping my nose into her hair to inhale the sweet fragrance unique to Amanda. Even as I stood there holding her, I felt my own strength grow, fed by hers.

  Chapter 9

  The Philosopher's Stone

  I FOUND TRIONA UPSTAIRS with John, making up a mahogany sleigh bed with white sheets in an otherwise unadorned guest bedroom. Vertical blinds covered the windows but there were no curtains, and I noticed several paintings wrapped in plastic stacked against one of the walls.

  I knocked lightly before I entered the open door, even though they worked in silence. John frowned and when Triona turned to me, I saw redness around her eyes.

  “How are you doing?” I asked tentatively.

  She sucked in a breath and held it a moment as she continued to push a pillow into a slipcover. John flattened his lips, his eyes tightened, I guess in an attempt to convey some silent message to me. Maybe he didn’t do it well, or we weren’t familiar enough to pick up on silent gestures. I couldn’t make out what he wanted to say.

  “I can’t talk about it, Ben. Not yet. I’m not ready to face any possibilities other than finding Caleb, so please don’t ask me to.” She tossed the pillow down.

  John scratched his cheek, his eyebrows jumped as though he knew already.

  Crap. How could I force her to confront her fears? I couldn’t yet.

  “Okay. What about Guinevere? Is she for real?”

  Triona’s demeanor changed in an instant. She perked up, and her shoulders lifted.

  “She’s telling the truth.” Triona moved to the end of the bed, stopping just in front of me, tapping her fingers on the gleaming, dark wood. “She’s also concealing plenty. She’s suspicious—maybe even a little afraid.”

  John dropped a sheet in a crumpled heap on the bed. “Is she trustworthy?”

  “Are you?” I shot back.

  John chuckled darkly. “Hey, I’m not the one who thinks it’s acceptable to wipe someone’s mind like a whiteboard at the end of a school day.”

  “I thought you understood,” Triona pressed.

  Her nails bit into the wood absently. I wrapped my fingers around her wrist and pulled her hand away before she damaged the furniture. She looked up at me, confused, her jawline strained. I smiled weakly, hoping to reassure her before I released my grip.

  “You can walk away from this you know,” I said to John. He didn’t owe any of us anything, least of all Caleb. He had Emma to look after, and I was loath to draw a kid into the chaos of our lives.

  John snorted and continued to pull the sheet out toward the corners of the bed. On the opposite side, Triona snapped the inoffensive piece of fabric with too much force.

  “That’s just the thing. I’m not sure I have that option.”

  “If you’re talking about this thing…this metamorphosis, whatever is going on with you, it doesn’t mean anything—”

  “You can’t be sure of that,” he cut me off. He exchanged a look with Triona, and the color deepened on her cheeks before she lowered her gaze. “But that’s not what I meant. Those men Guinevere fought off found you, so they found us. They know who we are now. We’re involved whether you like it or not. Whether I like it or not. I think I can protect myself. I also know there’s safety in numbers, so if I’m to have any chance of protecting Emma, we need to at least try to stick together.”

  “You understand we can’t promise to keep you safe,” Triona explained. “I wish we could.”

  “I’m not afraid to fight if I have to. Even before you returned my memory, something inside me triggered. I had this…” He paused, fumbling for the right words and pressed his hand to his abdomen just below his ribcage. “I don’t know what to call it other than gut instinct. I’ve been preparing for something. I guess this is it.”

  It appeared I had underestimated John.

  “This isn’t what I wanted for you.” Triona sighed and shook her head, her tone laced with disappointment.

  John stared at her, his eyes widened, studying her. “I know that, but it wasn’t your decision then, and it isn’t now.”

  Triona’s eyebrows drew down in a fierce scowl. She opened her mouth but snapped it shut again and retreated from the room. “I’m going to find Amanda.”

  Neither of us attempted to stop her. John pulled out a storage box from under the bed and shook out a comforter. “We have another room I can make up for you and Amanda.”

  I supposed it made sense for us to stay, although I’d have to return to the hotel to collect our things. I nodded. “That’s decent of you.”

  John shrugged.

  “To be honest, I thought you’d be eager to get rid of us. I didn’t think living on the edge was your thing.”

  He flashed a sidelong glance in my direction, and one side of his lips pulled up in a half-smirk. “No offense, mate, but you didn’t see me at my best. You also seem to forget I tried to stop your wife from diving head first into a fight with Zeal and got a broken nose for my efforts.”

  True, John did try to stop Amanda at Tara, and I’d never really given him credit for it. I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly. “I’ve had a bad habit of underestimating people.”

  “Must run in the family.”

  I didn’t miss the edge of irritation in his voice. I decided not push it. He had reason to be aggravated. It had to have stung finding out Triona didn’t trust him enough to get over his encounter with Guardians in time, in his own way.

  “Level with me.” John walked around the bed, face to face we were approximately the same height. “Do you believe he’s still alive?”

  I hesitated because I wasn’t sure of my answer. The idea of Caleb dying would have been inconceivable a few days before. He should have been safe, as we all should have been. Something had changed. “I thought we would have had something to go on by now.”

  The skin at the bridge of his nose puckered. He hummed thoughtfully but otherwise said nothing.

  “What about Emma? How do you think she’ll handle this?” I asked.

  John laughed at that and clapped me on the shoulder as he passed. “You’ve met her. How do you think she’ll handle this? I would prefer if she went back to school, but my sister is diamond tough. She’ll be okay.”

  “We need you over here,” I said the moment Samuel picked up his cell on the second ring.

  “What happened?” he demanded, his voice thick with anguish. “Is it Triona or Caleb?”

  I glanced sideways at Amanda. She had curled up under a blanket on one of the couches downstairs. Despite it being the middle of the night, I didn’t have the heart to move her to the bed John assigned us upstairs. We didn’t have any of our things from the hotel yet, so sleeping on the couch seemed as good a place as any. Her lips parted when she rolled over and gentle snores mingled with slow classical music coming from the radio.

  “No. Triona’s fine, and we have no news on Caleb. Gues
s I should have opened by saying we’re safe here. How are things your side? Lewis and Carmel?”

  I needed to call them too, but I held back. They would be going out of their minds, no doubt. Experience warned me Carmel would get emotional, and I couldn’t give her any comfort.

  “They’re worried but safe. I spoke to Lewis a couple of hours ago. I’ve called in favors, and I assure you they are well protected. No one will get anywhere near either of them. What’s going on with you?”

  An inappropriate loud laugh escaped my mouth. Amanda jumped but didn’t wake and settled quickly.

  “What do you know about Camelot?” I inquired.

  Samuel didn’t respond, not that I expected him to. My question probably came out of left field for him, so I went on.

  “We’ve been joined by Guinevere Pendragon, and she is in possession of Excalibur.”

  “I don’t understand.” His smooth and usually assured voice was riddled with confusion. Through the line, I heard wood scraping on tile followed by rhythmic footsteps when he began to pace.

  “John’s sister and I were taken by surprise. It’s a long story, and I think it would be better if you saw for yourself.”

  “Well we’ll be there as soon as we can, naturally.”

  I scratched my temple and rubbed my jaw, considering my next request a moment longer. Asking Eila to accompany Samuel seemed necessary while at the same time, an added complication. She could get more answers from Guinevere, but her presence would set us all on edge.

  “Will ‘we’ include Joshua and Eila?”

  “No, Annice and myself. Why?”

  “Her particular talents might be of use to us.”

  “I’m afraid Eila is in Alexandria.”

  “Egypt—what’s she doing there?”

  Samuel forced out a weary breath. “She’s following up a lead. I suspect it will come to nothing, but it’s the only one we’ve had so far. Zeal’s been investing a lot of time searching for something, and Eila believes if we find out what he’s after, it might be the key to finding Caleb. Joshua is with her.”

  “In that case, I hope the lead is strong.”

  “We’ll see you soon. Give Triona our love.”

  I tossed the phone aside and stretched my arms over my head. Caleb had been missing only a couple of days, but it felt like weeks since the morning I woke up in my own bed with my wife. I rubbed my thumb and forefinger into my eyes.

  “Ben.”

  I looked up to see Guinevere standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching me through the semidarkness. She wore a gray T-shirt and black yoga pants, I presumed borrowed, and had tied her hair in a messy top knot. The toes of her bare feet curled into the steps, and she pressed her hands against the wall on either side of her shoulders. She seemed younger, and her haunted eyes blinked as though startled.

  I stood carefully and tucked the blanket around Amanda, smoothing her wild hair away from her face before I approached Guinevere.

  “What’s happened? Are you okay?” I kept my voice low.

  “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I wanted some water. I heard you mention Egypt.”

  “Is that a question?” I suspected she fully intended to eavesdrop.

  Her expression hardened, becoming guarded, and her hands dropped from the wall. “Yes.”

  “Our friends are there. They believe Zeal may have been searching for something in Alexandria, but the lead isn’t strong, and it may not go anywhere,” I told her against my better judgment. Exhaustion bore down on my entire body, compressing me from every angle. Perhaps I wasn’t thinking as straight as I could be. Triona did say Guinevere was hiding something.

  Guinevere pulled in a sharp breath. Her cheeks flushed, and from this close, I heard her heart race up to a rapid staccato beat. “I think I know what Zeal wants in Alexandria.”

  “What?”

  She stepped down and wiped her hand across her forehead, closing her eyes for a moment. I appreciated she needed a moment to process, but my own heart wanted to escape through my ears. My patience wore thin fast.

  “What is it?” I asked louder and cringed at the volume. A glance at Amanda showed she heard nothing.

  “There is a Sacred Cauldron said to possess certain properties.”

  Memories of relevant stories flashed through my mind, snapped into place alongside stories of this woman and Camelot. I held my hands up in front of me to stop her. Guinevere lips pressed together.

  “Wait up. Are we talking about the Holy Grail?”

  She flattened her hand to her chest as though attempting to keep her heart contained within the walls of her chest. From the speed blood chugged through her veins, it might be a good idea.

  “No,” she began. “At least, not as you might recognize it in the legends. This Sacred Cauldron at Knowth in Ireland had nothing to do with the Christian mythology associated with Arthur and the Grail. In fact, Arthur was Pagan. However, any person drinking from The Cauldron was said to potentially live forever.”

  “You’re saying Zeal is after the fountain of youth?”

  “Yes, but it’s not that simple according to Emrys. The Cauldon’s power was depleted thousands of years ago. It became nothing more than a symbol of a possibility.”

  “A possibility of what?”

  “The Philosopher’s Stone. The Cauldron was impregnated with it.”

  “Wait up!” I whispered loudly, leaning into her. “As in Hogwarts, Harry Potter, and Nicholas Flammel? So we are back to talking about magic stones?”

  “So you know alchemy is an ancestor of chemistry and what we often consider magic is mostly natural science we don’t understand yet.”

  “You’re saying there’s no such thing as magic?”

  “Of course I’m not,” she said dismissively. “You of all people appreciate magic exists—you’ve seen it. I’m saying there are some with the gift of real magic and illusion, but they are fewer than you might expect, and even for them, there are boundaries. However, most of the time what we mistake for magic has scientific explanation.”

  “If we had the Stone and Zeal wants it, we could use it to exchange for Caleb.”

  “No. You cannot allow Zeal to possess the Stone. It would be too dangerous in the wrong hands.”

  “We’ll have to deal with that after we have Caleb back. If Zeal has him, we can’t leave Caleb in his hands either.” I shook my head to clear it and ran my palms over my face. “Where’s the Philosopher’s Stone?”

  Guinevere’s face scrunched up in a scowl. She pulled out one of the chairs from the dining table and sat. “I have no idea, but it’s possible Zeal took your friend because he believes Caleb does.”

  I sat down opposite her and leaned my elbows on the table tenting my fingers in front of me. Circles. I appeared to be wandering around in aimless circles and getting nowhere fast. Then something occurred to me. “If you have no idea where the Philosopher’s Stone is, what does Alexandria have to do with it?”

  Guinevere’s jaw twitched and the tendons in her throat strained. She shook her head, rolling her eyes to the ceiling.

  “Guinevere?”

  She lowered her chin, wearing a resigned expression. “I know a man who lived there a long time ago, and he knew more about the Philosopher’s Stone than anyone. He would never help anyone from the Council, but Zeal might have been looking for any clues he left behind.”

  “Will this man help us?”

  An almost smile played at Guinevere’s lips. “There’s only one way to find out, and I know exactly where we can unearth the old fossil.”

  Chapter 10

  Twin Flame

  I SAT DOWN A FEW FEET away from Amanda, hoping not to disturb her, but she woke anyway. Dragging the blanket with her, she whined and twisted toward me on the couch. She curled around my chest, wrapping us both in the warmth of the blanket. I ran my fingers across the place where her skin was scared and thought about our early days together, before shining swords, magic stones, and supernatural creatures…


  We met when Amanda was six. She was a year older and just a tiny bundle of energy in pigtails. There was something between us right from the beginning—always an excitement to see her in school that I didn’t understand. I got a thrill out of teasing her, seeing her cheeks redden, and the way she always had a smile for me. When we got older, she had sleepovers with Triona in the next room. I’d lie awake and listen to them giggling through the walls.

  It almost killed me when she went out on her first date with one of the guys from our English class. I hid around the corner from her house, peering through a hedge, terrified someone would see me. She was sixteen years old, and she was already acting embarrassed and awkward around me. Once we got together, she told me she’d fought this connection between us. She couldn’t make sense of it. Not being together made us both miserable, because as much as we couldn’t stay away from each other, we also didn’t want to be apart.

  That night I sat on the grass behind the hedge outside her house. I waited the whole time she was gone, until the car that had taken her away pulled up, and she got out. I desperately wanted to look away. It was unbearable that he might kiss her on the steps of her house—that someone else would be Amanda’s first kiss.

  His mom drove because he didn’t have a car, and he didn’t walk Amanda to the door. I wanted to rip his head off for not treating her how she deserved.

  When the car pulled away, Amanda walked straight over to where I was hiding, and she ordered me to come out. She didn’t appear angry but sort of embarrassed and hesitant. I stood with hunched shoulders and my hands shoved deep into my pockets. Amanda picked threads from the arm of her red sweater and repeatedly pushed her bobbed hair behind her ears. Eventually she seemed to give up waiting for me to say something and sighed, shaking her head as if she had given up.

  For a moment I panicked. I’d missed my chance, my opportunity to do something…anything to make everything okay between us. I did nothing.

  However, she didn’t walk away—she didn’t turn. She stepped forward, licked her lips, and fixed me with her penetrating, brown eyes.