by Carol Oates
“Do you see that?” she asked, storming away from us and pointing across the lowlands to another hill several miles away. A tower of some kind rose out of the top but too far away to make out any details. “That’s Glastonbury Tor. I remember it as a fort before the tower. They say Arthur’s buried in the cemetery of the Abbey.” She laughed dryly.
“Is he?” Amanda asked with interest.
“Well, they also say I’m buried there with him,” Guinevere added.
That’s a no.
“I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to return.” Her smile faltered. “I expected it to be haunted somehow, but it isn’t. This was the first and last place that ever felt like home.” She trailed off wistfully before catching a second wind. “The gatehouse was down there.” She pointed again to the southwest. “And the great hall was over there.” Guinevere wandered over the plateau, guiding us through the imagined enclosure as she remembered it.
I didn’t want to be cruel, but I was running out of patience with all this walking down memory lane. “Did you feel anything yet? Any tingles in your bones? Any vibrations from Excalibur?”
Guinevere pushed back her coat and wrapped her fingers around the hilt of Excalibur. It immediately came to life, gleaming a pale light through the seams of the scabbard. “It doesn’t work that way. I have to be near.”
“Near to where?” Amanda sidled up beside me. Her cheeks flushed pink from the breeze, and her short hair was blowing around her face.
“Down the scarp over there, facing south.”
“Okay then.”
She sighed and released the sword. The light disappeared, and Guinevere led us in the right direction. We descended the side of the hill near the deepest trenches.
“I hate to tell you this, but there’s no cave here,” I said, scouring the area for any sign of an entrance.
“Not just anyone can enter.”
Amanda grinned, her face glowing with wonder, and ran her hand over slanting wall of earth. “Magic.”
Guinevere unsheathed the sword and held it in front of her, navigating over the uneven ground carefully. I stayed alert to our surroundings in case any passersby spotted us. Two tourists and a woman in leathers with a mane of braided golden hair, wielding a glowing sword might draw some attention.
“Did you know Excalibur is longer than other swords of the time?” Guinevere told me, continuing with the history lesson as she held the sword away from her body.
She looked almost like a water diviner searching for a well. The sword trembled and her eyes widened.
“I didn’t know that.” Amanda cast a sideways glance my way. She winked at me, and I guessed this was her way of helping to keep Guinevere focused.
“Roman blades of the time were more brutal than elegant.”
The vibrations grew until the sword hummed and Guinevere’s hands struggled to hold it still. The sword was leading her as she stumbled forward. The humming grew louder until Amanda stepped back and grimaced, pressing her hands flat over her ears. By this point, Excalibur shook violently, and the white luminousness divided into a spectrum of colors.
“Here we go!” Guinevere almost sang the words. She gritted her teeth, and the tendons on her neck protruded from her flesh. Her skin turned from pink to almost purple, and the whites of her eyes laced with red veins.
My heart pounded, and the humming buzzed inside my head so loud I wanted to copy Amanda and retreat. My eyes stung from trying to focus through the light. I blinked, tears building from the strain, but I refused to look away.
Guinevere howled, and Excalibur shot from her hand. I jumped aside just as the blade whistled past my head and embedded itself up to the hilt in the wall of earth behind me. Amanda dropped her hands and raced to my side.
“What the hell was that?” she exclaimed, wide-eyed.
“Quick, follow me,” Guinevere instructed, panting hard. She grabbed Amanda’s hand and pulled her toward the sword. “Whatever you do, do not let go of my hand. The sword will open a portal. We need to keep the flow of energy constant until we all pass through.”
“And if we don’t?” I asked.
Guinevere’s lips curled upward. “Then it will be the sword in the stone all over again except it will be us stuck and waiting for a boy king to retrieve us. Ben, hold Amanda’s hand. Do not let go.”
I threaded my fingers through Amanda’s and clamped down on her hand, determined to abide by the instruction to the letter. Sweat gathered on my top lip, and blood rushed in my ears. Adrenaline and apprehension twisted in my gut like a basket of snakes.
Guinevere gulped down a deep breath and flexed her fingers, the joints crackled audibly, and I winced, recalling Triona’s bones breaking back in Camden.
“Hold your breath, and remember, don’t let go.” Guinevere wound her fingers around the still hilt. Her shoulders rolled back stiffly. The earth, which seemed so solid moments ago, shimmered like rippling water, revealing a cave that wasn’t there a moment ago. Guinevere stepped through, and the portal swallowed her whole.
Chapter 12
The Alchemist
IN THE FRACTION OF A SECOND before I entered the rippling wall of earth and stone, I believed I’d pass through with little resistance. That wasn’t how it worked at all. I didn’t pass through the wall, it passed through me. It hurt, as though muscle and flesh were torn from bone and ripped into a billion pieces. For a short time, it seemed as though my body no longer existed, dispersed into molecules. Even so, I felt every inch of it on fire for the seconds it took to emerge the other side.
I released Amanda’s hand and fell to the ground, coughing and panting. Rough, cold stone cut into my knees and palms. Bile crawled up my throat. My muscles strained and tightened, and my skull was on fire.
My Guardian vision could pierce the darkness, but I knew Amanda’s eyes would be darting around in the blackness, unable to see anything. I clambered toward her, doing my best to ignore my aching lungs. She blindly fell into my arms, gasping for breath. Had I known in advance, I never would have agreed to her accompanying us.
It took a moment to focus on Guinevere kneeling nearby, breathing hard with her chin tucked to her chest. I glowered at her, not caring if she could see me.
“You could have warned us.”
Amanda’s heart thrummed, vibrating through her entire body. I held her tighter, laying my cheek on her hair and absorbing the leftover coolness from the outside world. The air inside the cave was surprisingly muggy with a faint odor I couldn’t place.
“I’m sorry,” Guinevere forced out, using the rough wall to balance as she stood. “I didn’t know.” She coughed, leaning down to retrieve Excalibur from the ground. The sword brightened at her touch, illuminating the cave.
“I’m okay,” Amanda said as I helped her to stand. She coughed again and pulled out her cell, activating the flashlight app. “Are we inside the hill?”
Guinevere ran her hand along the shimmering wall and rubbed her fingers together. She examined the moisture with an expression of intense concentration. “Limestone.” She raised the sword in an arc above her head, revealing small spindle-like stone formations emerging from the ceiling. “Yes, I think we are inside…and not. It’s hard to explain. We are in the Never, not our world or the Otherworld. We should follow the cave deeper and move quickly. Things can become distorted here.”
“Things?” I demanded. “You mean us, don’t you?”
“What’s this?” Amanda asked, distracting me and directing light where the pale brownish stone turned black. She moved the light slowly showing there were blotches of black everywhere.
Guinevere kneeled and touched the darker stone low on the wall. She leaned closer and sniffed. “It’s jet. It isn’t naturally occurring here, so my best guess is these walls were impregnated as part of a ward.”
“Ward for what?” I touched a spot carefully, taking this as something else Guinevere suspiciously left out. The black stone wasn’t cold like the limestone.
; “To weaken. Did you notice the temperature? It’s warm to the touch. Jet is said to capture the soul. More likely it absorbs energy in some way. This is what they used to prevent escape. We should go. I don’t know what effect, if any, it will have on Excalibur or us.”
“Lead the way, then.” I took Amanda’s hand and gave it a light squeeze.
We followed her through a maze of tunnels, several times coming to a dead end. After a while, I noticed Amanda’s pace slowing. She clenched her hands and stretched her fingers straight, transferring her phone from hand to hand.
The back of my neck ached, needling pain radiating across my shoulders. It appeared as though the walls might be vibrating, emanating a low hum, the deeper we traveled.
“Are you okay?” I whispered close to her ear, not wanting to engage Guinevere who wandered several paces ahead.
Amanda blinked rapidly and shook her hands. “Yeah, just…” She trailed off. I guess she didn’t want to worry me, but her silence had the opposite effect.
“Just what?” I pushed.
She sighed. “It’s like pins and needles in my hands. I can’t get rid of it, and the walls are peculiar.”
I frowned.
“You too?”
I nodded, wondering if the cave affected Guinevere too when she stopped suddenly.
“I’ve found something,” she said before moving again. We rushed after her, both eager to get out of here as fast as possible.
“Wow.” Amanda inched close to my side, and I wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
Guinevere passed Excalibur over the walls in a large circler alcove off the main pathway of the cave. The walls were drier here and mottled with black like everywhere else. The space was large, several yards in every direction. Complex equations and symbols, carved into the stone, covered every available inch of the lower walls. In many places the carvings overlapped, as though the artist had run out of free space but had just kept going. There were animals, spirals, curved lines and dots that appeared to form shapes and writing I couldn’t read.
Amanda approached the wall and raised her hand high, skimming her palm over the indents. The markings rose out of her reach, placed there by someone quite a bit taller.
Guinevere peered closer. “Some of these are new. He’s close.”
“How could anyone exist in this desolation?” Amanda murmured in disbelief.
Again, her grace in the face of a wretched reality struck me. A very small part recognized I could have spared her all this by ending our relationship, but I had never seriously considered it. Maybe, just maybe, Caleb made the right decision when he turned from Triona to protect her. Could I admit it took strength and not weakness to walk away? If so, it was strength I didn’t possess.
“There is no time here. It simply doesn’t exist. There is no day or night, no need to eat or drink. Trapped here, all one does is exist for eternity.”
My attention flickered to my watch, holding it to my ear. It had stopped, and my fingers trailed when I moved my hand, multiplying and warping. I squeezed my eyelids shut for a moment.
Uneasiness sizzled in my blood, and a mild thumping had developed in my temples. I stepped back, taking in the space around us. Then I heard it. Breathing so halting and low I almost missed it over the sound of dripping water nearby and the noise of our small expedition. I spun on my heels. My nails extended as an automatic response, aware of pulsating walls on three sides in the alcove.
“Who’s there?” I growled into the darkness.
Amanda and Guinevere froze and went deathly silent. The breathing continued, and I backed up, shielding the women.
“I know you,” a croaky voice said from the gloom beyond the entrance to the alcove.
Guinevere hesitantly moved forward, placing her hand on my arm to lower it. “Yes, you know me. I am Guinevere. Come into the light.”
“No.”
I blinked at the sharp response. It reverberated through the stone, and Amanda’s fingers tightened on the back of my jacket.
“Myrddin Emrys,” Guinevere began softly, almost concealing her irritation. “We have come to help you.”
“No,” Merlin spat. “You have come to seek my help, Guinevere Pendragon. You would have left me weakened but unable to cross the barrier to the Otherworld in death. You need me. You would have left me here to rot otherwise.”
Guinevere closed her eyes a moment and inhaled a calming breath. She made a more careful advance, her legs bent at the knee for balance. “Rot is an exaggeration. You know you can’t rot here. I was angry, but I’m not anymore.”
He huffed, dismissing her excuse, and I held my breath, hoping we hadn’t come on a fool’s errand. I didn’t want to have to return to Triona to deliver bad news.
“Arthur, has he forgiven me too?”
I was surprised to see Guinevere start. Just for an instant her stance relaxed, and her jaw slackened before she collected herself.
“Arthur fell at Camlann,” she said with a note of surprise. “I thought you knew this.”
We stood in silence for what seemed like several long minutes; in reality there was no way to know. Finally, a figure stepped into the shadow cast by Excalibur. A man shuffled toward us, filthy, with bedraggled gray hair to his shoulders partly concealing a deeply lined face. His nose and chin were narrow; his cheekbones cut a sharp line, which together with his pinched expression, gave him a rodent-like appearance. On closer inspection, the lines were symbols just like those on the wall. They had been etched into his flesh. He wore a simple long robe tied at the waist with cord, ratty with holes. His bare feet poked out the bottom, caked with dirt and tiny slashes oozing scarlet.
“No. Arthur lives,” he choked out, wild eyes darting around the space. “I was locked away for months after the battle, tortured and starved, before Morrígan stuck me here. She said Arthur struck down Mordred. She said Arthur lived yet. She wanted his location.” His voice grew louder and stronger with each word, building to a deafening bellow consumed with rage.
His eyes widened, noticing the sword for the first time. “No,” he mumbled. “No, no, no, no.” He spun away from us, clawing at the wall with angry slashes, his nails long, oval, and blackened.
I pushed Amanda further behind me. Merlin did not appear completely sane, clinging to the wall and whimpering. But what could I expect after centuries locked away in darkness and solitude?
Taking a step, my foot sank into the cave floor as though swallowed by marshmallow. I jerked back, and the floor was solid once more. Amanda tilted her head, watching me, and scratched her neck below her ear. She dropped her hand, and her lips twitched oddly. She scratched again. We had to move this along.
Guinevere glanced over her shoulder and nodded curtly, I presumed indicating she had expected Merlin’s insanity or something similar. “You are confused, Emrys.” She approached him carefully, as someone might a small, frightened animal. “Everything will make sense again soon.”
As soon as her fingers touched his arm, he jolted away, leveling her with a furious glare. “No,” he warned. “Do not dare treat me as an old fool.” Merlin returned to the wall, scraping at a small indented line.
She sighed, stepped back, and rubbed her eye. “As you wish.” Guinevere reached into the satchel with her free hand and pulled out a candy bar, intentionally crinkling the wrapper.
The dull ache in my head intensified, possibly as a result of the distortion or power drain Guinevere mentioned. Another quick glance at Amanda told me it was affecting her too. A veil of perspiration covered her pale face, and she looked up to me with bloodshot eyes. A patch of red bloomed below her ear. I drew her closer and kissed the top of her head. If Merlin didn’t start to cooperate, I’d have to do something. I’d carry him out of here by force before I would allow Amanda to succumb to this place.
Still holding the bar in one hand and using Excalibur as a torch, Guinevere managed to tear a corner off the wrapper. The sound seemed louder than possible in the quiet, and Merlin’s shoulde
rs immediately twitched. He turned his head sideways and sniffed at the air.
“What is that?”
“That’s chocolate.”
He sniffed the air again and released his death grip on the stone. “Chocolate.” He rolled his tongue over the word and eyed the bar greedily. Merlin smacked his dirty lips and reached out with clawed grubby fingers tipped with oval talons. “Chocolate,” he repeated, and his tongue swiped out reminding me of a reptile’s.
He shuffled toward us, his fingers shaking. Just as the bar was in his grasp, Guinevere snatched it away.
“Eh, I don’t think so. If you want this, I’m going to need something from you.”
Merlin scowled bitterly. Guinevere raised an eyebrow, and his expression relaxed. The thickly layered dirt on his face creased, leaving white lines across his forehead. Guinevere smiled and handed him the bar.
“Wait,” Amanda exclaimed, drawing Guinevere’s attention. Merlin was already lost in consuming the bar, his cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk. “He has no food here. If he hasn’t eaten in a long time, won’t that make him sick?”
Guinevere chuckled and lifted the satchel over her head, laying it on the ground. “Believe me, it would take more than a chocolate bar to knock Merlin off his feet. We should move quickly. I’m feeling the drain of our surroundings.”
“Me too,” I added.
“Yes,” Amanda agreed. “I feel it as well. It’s like all my energy is being siphoned away, and I keep imagining ants climbing all over my body.” She flinched and shuddered.
“Tell us where the Philosopher’s Stone is,” Guinevere instructed.
Merlin’s face writhed in fear and turmoil.
“He doesn’t know,” I growled in frustration.
Guinevere removed clothing, a comb, and baby wipes from the satchel, watched closely by Merlin, who still pretty much ignored Amanda and me.
“No,” she insisted. “He knows. We just need to find it in that vault he calls a brain. We need to get him out of here.”