Shades of Avalon

by Carol Oates

  “Did you bring more?” he asked, waving the empty wrapper, his eyes hopeful.

  “Yes.” She smiled up at him. “And you can have some just as soon as we are on our way.”

  “Did you bring my mushrooms?”

  “No. It’s not the season.”

  Merlin gasped and dragged his fingers though his hair as he walked in a tight circle, mumbling to his feet. “I need them. Without my mushrooms…I need my mushrooms…”

  “What is he talking about?” Amanda whispered, edging closer to Guinevere.

  I narrowed my eyes. “He’s crazy,” I murmured.

  Merlin froze and locked eyes with me. He straightened his shoulders, outright indignation radiating from him.

  “You’ll soon learn crazy is relative when it comes to Emrys.” Guinevere shrugged. “He’ll be more coherent soon.” She removed the white bag last and held it up to show him. “Potions and compounds. Humans have made many advances. Think of them as chemical mushrooms.”

  Merlin’s lips stretched into a tight smile. He rubbed his hands together, anxious to get them on the bounty in the white bag.

  “What’s in there?” I asked. “Is that what you were collecting from the hospital?”

  “Not from the hospital. My contact happens to work there. It’s little of this and that.” Guinevere stood. “Some prescription stuff, but mostly lysergic acid diethylamide.”

  “You’re kidding me,” Amanda said, aghast. “You’re giving him LSD?”

  Chapter 13

  Copper and Salt

  IT TOOK MUCH LONGER to find our way back to where we had entered. By then, the batteries on both our phones were long dead, and Excalibur provided our only light. Merlin and I would still be able to see in the dark thanks to our Guardian blood. Amanda would be blind, and I expected Guinevere’s powers were tied to the sword in some way. As the luminescence of the blade dulled, she slowed and became increasingly weary and skittish of our surroundings. Clearly she didn’t expect the addition of jet stone to the spell that imprisoned Merlin.

  “Time to get out of here,” I said as I stood Amanda on the ground beside me.

  I’d been carrying her for over an hour because she kept tripping over the rough surface on the floor of the cave. She argued but soon crossed her arms and gave in with a pout. I’d used guilt, saying I’d never forgive myself if she was hurt again because of me.

  “I can’t say I’ll be sorry to see the back of this place.”

  “Me either,” Amanda added, clinging to my jacket and jerking her head to a sound only she heard.

  I scrubbed the heels of my hands into my eyes, and white stars danced across my vision. Exhaustion withered my muscles and numbness inched down my limbs. Another hour and I might not have been able to keep going. I had to give Merlin credit. The mere fact he was still standing—albeit a meatball short of a full sub—proved he must have been formidable once. According to Guinevere, he’d spent a great deal of his time slurping down magic mushrooms and homemade potions when she had known him. He had claimed it opened him to the natural energies surrounding him—in other words he liked to get high.

  Merlin scrutinized Guinevere as though he suspected she might vanish the way a mirage dissipates into the arid air of a desert. She had done all she could to clean him up, dressing him in a dark shirt and pants under a three-quarter-length wool coat. The clothes were too large and hung off his scrawny frame, but at least it was better than the robe. She’d also tied his hair at the nape of his neck with an elastic band and used the wipes to clean his face while he munched on miniature candy bars. He’d huffed like a child when he discovered he had eaten the entire supply. I’d half expected him to lie down and throw a full tantrum, but she had dissuaded him with promises of more on the other side of the cave boundaries.

  I wished we had a few left. Emptiness gnawed at my gut, and I wondered if it was just another hallucination.

  “Remember,” Guinevere warned us, “just like last time. Hold on and don’t let go.” She extended the sword with a trembling arm and gripped Merlin firmly with her other hand.

  “Hello,” he greeted me again when I circled my fingers around his wrist.

  I smiled tightly. Merlin appeared to remember my presence for only minutes at a time. I hoped any damage done by his time in the cave below Camelot wouldn’t be permanent.

  “Please hurry,” Amanda whispered against my back, pressing her forehead to my spine.

  I fumbled behind and took her hand, bringing it to my lips and kissing it. Her sweaty palm slid over mine, and I tasted salt on her skin. It caught the back of my nose and mingled with her usual vanilla scent.

  “Now, Guinevere,” I instructed.

  She nodded and swiped her tongue over cracked lips, focusing on the stone wall in front of her. Guinevere drove the sword forward with conviction but instead of passing through as before, blinding silver sparks fired in every direction. A circular blue light pulsed out across the surface of the stone, and Guinevere lurched backward to Merlin’s chest. He fell against me from the force, and even I had trouble remaining upright. The only thing preventing us ending up as a crumpled heap was the thought of Amanda crushed under all our weight.

  “No.” Guinevere fell to her knees and crawled to the wall. Excalibur screeched along the stones beside her. “No. It didn’t work. Why didn’t it work?”

  Her desperation gave me no comfort, and neither did Amanda’s whimpered sobs. The ground swayed beneath my feet when I turned to embrace her, yet no one else seemed affected by it—another hallucination. Panic roared up, and my heart pounded as though a jackhammer went to work on my ribs. The air in the cave was quickly turning stale. I thought I caught the scent of burning coal. My mind was playing tricks.

  Merlin perched himself on a nearby boulder, picking at threads on his sleeve and mumbling something about the mountain releasing us.

  Guinevere rubbed her palm all over the wall, drawing back with blood dripping from her fingertips. “I don’t understand,” she wailed.

  I squinted in her direction and the blood disappeared. “This is not good,” I said flatly.

  “You think?” Amanda snapped. Her entire body vibrated to the point I could have sworn it hummed.

  I steadied her to the best of my ability in my current state. My own body felt alien, my limbs clumsy and awkward. It had never occurred to me how I had gotten used to the grace, agility, and strength that came with my transition. I wouldn’t take it for granted ever again.

  “What was that?” Guinevere’s head snapped in the direction we had come.

  I looked and saw nothing but cave. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Wraith!” she screeched and buried her head behind her arm.

  Amanda closed her eyes and covered her ears, rocking back and forth.

  “The spell doesn’t want us to leave. It doesn’t want to die,” Merlin mumbled into his chest.

  “Magic isn’t alive,” I yelled.

  He raised his chin and cackled. The sound resonated around us. “Of course magic is alive. Where is it you believe magic comes from? From life. Without us to feed on, it will fade and die.”

  “Then what now?”

  “Open the portal, mountain.” Merlin practically sang the words as he stitched an imaginary piece of cloth in his hands.

  “You’re not helping, magic man. This isn’t a mountain.” Anger quivered through my words, and Amanda whimpered again. A jagged pain stung my eyes. Regardless, it seemed my disorientation was significantly less than the others. Not that it mattered. I had no idea how to get us out of here. Excalibur would fail soon, as drained and useless as the rest of us, and plunge the cave into darkness. We’d all end up as loony as Merlin, wandering around, scribbling on walls for eternity in a place where time didn’t exist.

  “Mountain, mountain, mountain…” Merlin droned on until it was impossible to block him out.

  I dragged my fingers through my hair and frowned so hard my face ached.

  “Mountai
n?”

  “Can you please shut the hell up, magic man,” I growled toward Merlin.

  He cocked his head to the side calmly, strangely lucid. “What are you waiting for? Open the portal.”

  I rocked backward. He was talking to me. I was a mountain, and he wanted me to open a portal home? Undeniably, my heritage made itself known in my size. I had been brawny enough to hold my own with the strongest of Guardians at Tara, but I had never considered myself a mountain. Unlike Triona, I displayed no unusual magical tendencies. Persuasion and strength weren’t so uncommon. Still, I was desperate enough to listen.

  Amanda looked up at me with pleading eyes. “Ben. I don’t like it here.”

  I couldn’t allow Amanda to slip away into madness. Anything was better than doing nothing. I took a few measured steps toward Merlin. “How do I open a portal?”

  He sniffled dismissively, his eyes darting side to side. I fought the temptation to follow his line of sight—certain whatever he was watching wasn’t really there.

  “Tell me,” I demanded.

  Merlin jumped, startled, and I worried I was losing him again. I snapped my fingers in front of his eyes, hoping he’d focus for a few moments longer. Merlin’s serious eyes fixed on mine. I shifted uncomfortably, weighed and measured in his swift appraisal.

  “You are of royal blood, mountain. I smell it on you. Your strength pulses in your veins untapped, the blood of the goddess, Danu. Everything seen and unseen is within your command. Call on your blood, mountain, and open the portal.”

  “Call on my blood. What does that mean? How do I open a portal?”

  It was too late. Merlin’s attention was somewhere else. He poked at thin air in front of his face, mouthing “pop” and “mountain” intermittently. I grabbed his shoulders and shook him, attempting to rattle some lucidity from his brain. It was hopeless.

  “Urgh,” I growled and slammed my fist into the rock wall. Pain sliced across my knuckles and careened up my arm. My vision blurred and returned to crystal clarity several times.

  All three of my companions howled as though they felt it too. Copper mixed with the existing scents in the cave. I stepped back and probed the fresh, bloody wounds in surprise. Apparently, accelerated healing didn’t work here. Crimson liquid seeped from ragged gashes across my knuckles and pain throbbed from my shoulder to the tips of my fingers. I wondered if I’d continue bleeding forever in this place. Could I eventually die of blood loss from this small wound? How did it work here? I didn’t intend to stick around and find out. I flexed my hand, checking for any broken bones or serious damage, when movement in the shadows caught my eye. I spun around, panting.

  “Who’s there?” There was nothing. Empty air. Then with one final gasp of radiance, Excalibur blinked out.

  I crumpled to my knees by Amanda, cupping my hands behind my neck and forcing my breathing to slow. I compelled my mind to clear away the fog. Amanda leaned into me, seeking comfort and reassurance I couldn’t offer. I’d failed her. Because of my fear of losing Amanda, I insisted she come along, and now she was stuck here with me. I wrapped my arms around her and drew her onto my lap.

  “I’m so sorry, babe,” I whispered into her hair.

  Amanda’s hand stoked mine. I groaned and she pulled back.

  “Is that blood?” She couldn’t see me anymore, but it didn’t stop her trying to find my eyes in the dark.

  “It’s nothing.” I retracted my hand from hers and kissed her damp hair. “Just a scratch.”

  “Why isn’t it healing?” she asked, her eyebrows pulling together.

  “I guess wounds don’t close up in here like they do in—” I caught my breath. When Merlin said my strength was in my blood, could he have meant my actual blood rather than my bloodline?

  “Amanda, I need to try something. I need you to stay here.”

  “No,” she moaned, twisting her fingers into the fabric of my jacket.

  “I will be right back. I promise.”

  Her lips turned down as she reluctantly let go and allowed me to slide her off my knees. My heart stuttered out several uneven beats when she pulled her legs to her chest and closed her eyes, resting her cheek on her knee. She seemed so tiny and lost, so frail. An almost crippling desire to join her swept through me, a warm breeze of tranquility in total contrast to my other emotions. I bit my lip to distract myself from the conflict, recognizing it as a trick. I understood now. The jet drained the captive and kept them here while the Never turned whatever was left to mush.

  A short distance away, Guinevere curled around Excalibur, weeping, and Merlin sat with his legs crossed at the ankle and his head tilted back as though sunning himself.

  I rolled my shoulders back and approached the cave wall. If this didn’t work…no, I couldn’t think that way. I touched my fingers to the knuckle of my other hand, smudging blood. The slick substance glided over my skin. Without pondering further, I smeared it over a tiny portion of the wall. Nothing happened, and I stepped back, crestfallen. What now?

  I stumbled a couple of steps and dropped my head into my hands. Was this Guinevere’s fault for suggesting this ridiculous plan, or mine for going along with it?

  A sliver of light peeked through my fingers and my head flashed up. It certainly wasn’t a doorway or even a window. However, something happened…and something had to be good. A tiny circle of blue light pulsed rhythmically outward from where I pressed my blood to the wall. It was almost what happened when Guinevere touched Excalibur to the same spot. It lacked intensity, then paled and began to disappear.

  All of a sudden, exhilaration prickled through my chest. Beads of sweat rolled from my damp hair down the back of my neck, and my hands quaked. I hopped up and down, shaking my arms out and flexing my neck, loosening up the way I used to before a soccer game.

  “Call on your blood,” Merlin sang from behind me.

  I raised my hand, grimacing at the meager amount of scarlet there. It seemed so much a minute ago but now, entirely inadequate for this purpose. “Here we go,” I muttered to myself and sliced my extended thumbnail along the pad of my other thumb, opening a one-inch gash. “Let’s try this again.”

  I repeated my earlier action, this time smearing the blood in a small circle about the diameter of a coffee mug and waited. It happened faster this time. The stone shimmered blue and rippled outward.

  “Ha-ha. Yes!” I jumped and pumped my fist in the air at the sight of the small window to our world. It was far too small to fit my hand through and like peering through glass, or maybe water, but it was certainly a start. Beyond the window, stars sprinkled the night sky, pinpricks of white over navy velvet. It appeared this place couldn’t hold royal blood, and I was never so grateful for mine.

  I bounded over to Merlin and captured his face in my hands. “Magic man, you crazy old coot, you did it!”

  He gasped and spluttered in disgust when I planted a sloppy kiss on his forehead. I didn’t care. We’re getting the hell out of Dodge.

  Amanda perked up, as did Guinevere, and a very light sheen once again coated Excalibur’s blade.

  “Ben.” Amanda pointed to the small circle in the wall where I caught a glimpse to the outside.

  The portal was closing.

  “Everybody up. Right now,” I yelled. “I have no idea how this works so we have to hurry, okay?”

  Amanda lumbered to her feet as Merlin lithely bounced from the boulder and scooped Guinevere up by her arm. His movements were disconcerting for a crazy old fool.

  “I’m ready to leave, mountain.”

  Guinevere shrugged him off and scrubbed her hands over her face. I prepared myself to slash my palm with my nail, trusting it would be enough.

  “Ready?”

  Amanda dipped her head once, smoothing her hand over my arm as the other two watched in fascination. I gritted my teeth to distract from the pain. Then I drew my nail deeply through my flesh, from the base of my index finger to just above my wrist, trailing a line of searing fire.

 
; Blood pooled in my palm but not fast enough, so I squeezed my hand a couple of times to get the blood really pumping. As soon as I was satisfied, I began daubing the wall with red and smearing the blotches together, forming a rough approximation of a doorway.

  Merlin smirked and fidgeted, so close his stinking breath made me gag. I spread my arms wide, keeping them back as my blood went to work, forming a portal to home. As before, the rock face before us shimmered and ripples of luminous blue emanated outward. They grew wider until the portal was large enough for a small human to fit through its glassy surface. I didn’t wait for it to reach full size or touch the ground, unsure how long we’d have. Beyond the portal, lay the patchwork fields around Cadbury Castle.

  I grabbed Guinevere first, selfishly aware she was a test dummy of sorts, and shoved her through the portal. She tumbled out the other side gracelessly with Excalibur still clutched in her hand. She sheathed the sword straightaway and beckoned the next person to follow. Her dry lips moved mutely, and her hands rolled toward herself.

  I caught Amanda’s arm but she pushed me away. “No,” she stated, fear lancing her tone. “What if you get trapped here? We go through together or not at all.”

  “We don’t have time to argue,” I said, exasperated, eyeing the hole as it struggled to push wider. I presumed it had reached maximum size. Any second it would begin to shrink and might never reopen. What if the magic was a living thing as Merlin suggested. Perhaps it could adjust to trap us again. My next bloodletting might produce nothing more than a fancy light show.

  “Then stop wasting it. Send Merlin though.”

  I groaned and jostled him in front of us. “You’re up, magic man.”

  Merlin bounced from foot to foot and rubbed his hands with a gleeful joy. I pushed hard, and Merlin fell through as the portal began to contract. On the other side, Guinevere helped him to his feet and moved him aside. The portal had already pulled in several inches on every side.

  “You have to go now.”

  “We go together,” Amanda pressed, insistent and more herself than she’d been for hours. Her wide eyes warned me not to test her on this, and she seized my bloody hand with all her remaining strength.