by Carol Oates
“When you say ‘becoming’ what does that mean exactly?” Triona asked, raising an eyebrow.
Merlin barked a laugh and pointed at John. “You are the Stone.”
Chapter 20
Swords and Stones
EMMA SNORTED AND JOHN’S EYES widened to saucers. His jaw slackened, and his entire body shrank back into his seat.
“We freed Merlin to find the Stone, and we had it all along,” I added matter-of-factly. There were moments I wished we’d left the old coot stranded. His acid candor didn’t help.
“I don’t understand,” Triona said. She hardly moved at all, and she might not have been breathing.
Merlin opened his mouth to speak, but before he got a chance, Guinevere laid her hand on his arm and spoke instead. “No theatrics or embellishments, only what Samuel and I discussed with you earlier.”
“You were angry with me,” Merlin said in an almost whisper, as though it was a secret between them.
“Yes,” Guinevere replied, slipping her hand from his arm and shifting in her seat.
A sad smile tugged at the magic man’s lips for a moment and disappeared. “May I have some chocolate?” he asked with a hopeful note in his quiet voice.
“Later, Emrys.”
“Good, good.” Merlin grinned like a child promised a reward for good behavior.
I lowered my eyes, concentrating on a small scratch on the edge of the table instead of watching the faces around me.
“The first stage is nigredo—the destruction,” Merlin said with confidence. “It’s not so unusual for many to reach this stage. For John, it happened at Tara when he discovered the world wasn’t as he believed it to be.
“The second stage is the most important. Some actions can literally split destiny and reality. When this happens, the individual at the point of the change is physically marked, and they have potential to become something more than they were born to be. This stage is albedo, a reversal of fortune, a change of fate. For John it happened when Triona wiped his mind and passed some of her magic to him accidentally. It’s the final purification, and stage two is potential in its purest form.”
This was the explanation I’d looked up but hadn’t understood. “Couldn’t it be anyone?” I asked intending to meet Merlin’s eyes. Instead, John drew my attention. His head was lowered, his jaw strained with tension. The muscles jumped under his skin whenever he swallowed. “What I mean is, can’t anyone change their destiny if they choose to? Isn’t that free will?”
Merlin shook his head. “It is not so simple as free will, because destiny has many, many opportunities all leading us to the same destination. Our free will determines only the journey, not our destination. When we try to change our fate, we are essentially traveling the road we were meant to travel. It is our destiny to try to change our ultimate fate and our destiny to fail. It is a self-fulfilling prophecy. What happened to Arthur was never meant to. It opened a new road that did not exist before, with a new destination for all on it.”
“What happened to John,” Triona stated, incorrectly attempting to correct his slip.
Everyone looked to her.
“You mean like what happened to John, not Arthur,” she repeated.
Arthur met John’s eyes across the people between them and tilted his head as silent acknowledgment of their kinship. “No,” Arthur answered. “He means what happened to me. Please forgive me if I get this wrong. I am learning much of this for the first time.” He shrugged. “Although it seems as though I knew already. To our knowledge, four people have carried the mark of the Stone—Brigid, the warrior Sétanta, myself, and now John.”
“So,” John began with a guarded expression. “In order to retrieve Caleb, you have to hand me over to the bad guy.”
“Absolutely not!” Emma and Triona exclaimed in unison, their tone somewhere between startled and furious.
John took Emma’s hand and shushed her. “The final two phases?” he prompted Merlin.
“The third stage is citrinitas. This is the stage of enlightenment. This is the stage Arthur reached, although he no longer carries the mark. He didn’t finish the transition before he was taken to Avalon.”
Guinevere looked to Arthur. She must have borne guilt over what happened. I imagined her driving herself crazy in the future, questioning what she might have done differently. I would have.
“For John this came when Triona returned his memory, and it accelerated as he accepted and acknowledged the changes to his world—as he embraced them. The final stage is rubedo. Witnessing this is the ultimate goal of alchemists. It’s the complete transmutation on an atomic level. This is rebirth. The phoenix will awaken at Knowth, at sunrise during the spring equinox. The Stone will reach full strength. Blood runs as liquid gold, and the Riastradh takes hold.”
John scowled fiercely, but made no other outward acknowledgment of Merlin’s explanations.
Guinevere took over. “Zeal will want to attempt the ceremony to impregnate Dagda’s cauldron at Knowth with John’s blood. Sun stone—white quartz—surrounding the chamber, and to a lesser degree in the granite of the cauldron, amplifies the power of the sun. It won’t take much blood, and the effects will last a millennium. Drinking from the cauldron will make Zeal young forever. He can be killed, but he will never age. The power of the impregnated cauldron will allow for other things too, the ability to turn any metal to gold for instance, or create a golem—an animated clay figure. Although tales of the golem only exist in myth, if proven true, Zeal could create an unstoppable army.”
When Guinevere paused, Triona immediately pushed for more. “Tell us the rest. Tell me what you don’t want to say.”
“As you wish.” Guinevere’s brow puckered. “He also wants the Riastradh and that is not so simple. Impregnating the cauldron requires little blood, but usurping the Riastradh requires the sacrifice of the being in possession of it.”
I didn’t have to see Triona to guess what she must be thinking—that she did this to him.
“You mean he wants to kill John,” Emma said, alarmed and red faced.
“No one is killing John,” Samuel assured her.
“When is the equinox?” she asked.
“The twentieth of March. Thirteen days away.”
“What happens now?” Emma asked. She tried to cover her trepidation by rolling her shoulders back and holding her chin up. “If Arthur was cured of this Stone thing, that means John can be too, doesn’t it? If he is cured, then this Zeal guy can’t use him.” Her voice grew higher as she spoke until John placed a hand on her back.
“There is no simple cure for your brother to escape this,” Arthur answered. “I have been gone for many hundreds of years. It is possible I would never have seen this world again if you and the others had not rescued me. It seems so much like a dream. I can’t swear I died. However, I believe I came as near as a man can before the Fáidh took me away.”
Triona rested one elbow in the arm of her chair and sank her face into her hand. No one else spoke, all too resistant to suggest trading one of us for another now that we knew the truth. Even Merlin sat quietly with his fingers twisting in his lap.
“Now we face Zeal and fight,” Joshua announced angrily. “We make him sorry he didn’t die that day at Tara.”
“What about Caleb?” I questioned him, knowing he couldn’t forget his brother so easily.
“We mount a rescue.”
I scoffed. “We have no idea where he is. And what about the numbers? It’s us against how many of his people?”
“Maybe handing me over to the Fáidh is the logical choice,” John said carefully as though testing the words on his tongue.
John’s reaction, or rather his non-reaction, was surprising. Without doubt his main concern rested with Emma and keeping her safe, even if it meant leaving her. However, a certain sense of resignation poured from him. He was much like Arthur and his easy acceptance of this staggering fate. His cool confidence brought to mind something Triona told me after Tara
and how her abilities seemed as second nature. Just like my ability to control thoughts or what I did in the cave with my blood—it was instinct.
“And then Zeal will kill Caleb just for thrills.” Amanda shrugged and pursed her lips for a moment. “We need to stop looking for simple answers because there are none. Joshua is right. We should make a stand. But we should wait for Zeal to come for John. Use the time to prepare.”
“Okay, then,” John conceded. “What if you hand me over to Zeal, take Caleb back, and then I destroy them from the inside out once this ratchet thing kicks in.”
“You don’t think the possibility crossed his mind already?” Amanda dismissed his suggestion. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned as a human looking in on all this Guardian stuff, nothing is as easy as it appears.”
“The pretty girl is correct,” Merlin agreed, twirling a lock of his hair through his thumb and forefinger.
“Then we don’t have a choice. We fight,” Amanda stated, tilting her head and considering something. She wanted to walk into a fight we very likely wouldn’t walk away from. My chest constricted as though the air was sucked from the room. I saw a blade sinking into her chest. I couldn’t go through that again.
“No.” The word left my lips before I realized. My heart raced to the point of pain, and all eyes landed on me. I wanted to run, to take Amanda’s hand and walk away from this table, to go back to our life in Camden. In the next second, Amanda’s searching eyes met mine. Her head tilted to the side, and her lips turned down at the corners. Her head shook almost indiscernibly.
“I don’t want you to risk your life again,” I told her, preventing Amanda from asking a question.
Amanda cupped my jaw with her hand. I leaned into her touch seeking comfort, and at the same time feeling it was undeserved. I flinched away from her, and in one swift movement pushed my chair back and stood. I held the backrest, sliding my slick palms over the wood. I hadn’t noticed my palms were sweating. Amanda pushed herself from the table and moved to place her hand on my arm. I shied away from her touch for the second time and scanned the faces around me. All looked at me with varying degrees of judgment and pity. I ignored Amanda and addressed Triona.
“It doesn’t matter what we do. The life we had growing up is over, and nothing will ever be the same. We were naïve to think we could have normal.” I barked a laugh. “Look around you. I dragged Amanda into this. You dragged John, and now Emma, into this too.”
“Ben—” Amanda started.
“No.” I held my hand up. “I’m scared shitless right now, and I keep thinking this is not the life I promised you.”
Amanda shrank back, and I reached for her automatically, taking both her hands, keeping her with me, even when every molecule in my body told me not to. I was a selfish creature despite my best efforts. I didn’t deserve someone like her. “I know none of us can ever move on from this until we put Zeal in the ground.”
Amanda’s eyes glazed over with moisture, and she smiled, understanding my conflict and my panic. I couldn’t leave her or ask her to leave me, and that meant getting her caught up in another Guardian battle.
“So we are in agreement then,” Merlin offered soundly and followed his statement with a bored sigh.
My cheeks heated as I retook my seat, trying not to meet anyone’s direct gaze after my outburst. I just said what everyone else must be thinking. No one at this table wanted this but we all had something to lose. Zeal would never leave any of us in peace while he drew breath.
“They will have the advantage in numbers,” Samuel reminded the gathering.
“Then we take the advantage back,” Triona said. “We use guns.”
“That is not our way,” Annice told her.
“Maybe it’s time we make it our way.” I slapped my hand on the table. “We have to do something.”
Samuel shook his head. “We use guns, and they retaliate with guns, and there are still more of them. How many of us will be shot down? That path will do more harm than help us. Zeal will stick to the old ways—the Guardian ways. I know him. But as soon as we pick up guns, we’ve already lost.”
Emma inclined her head and whispered to John. “I don’t want to wade into a fight, Johnny, but I swear if you suggest I sit this out, I will take one of your precious swords and cut you a new arsehole.”
John flattened his lips and narrowed his eyes at his sister before turning to Samuel. “Maybe—” John’s face scrunched up in a grimace “—Maybe we can turn Guardian fighting strengths into weakness.”
“In what way?” Triona asked.
John inhaled deeply and dipped his head as though still forming the idea. He darted a sideway glance to Arthur and then back to the table. His eyes flashed bright and enthused. “We use swords. Think about it. For a Guardian to do damage, they have to get within arm’s length. We don’t let them get that close.”
“That could work. Swords are considered a part of our oldest traditions, but it’s rare enough in modern time that it would give us an advantage,” Eila explained. “If we were competent.”
I was skeptical. In theory it was a good idea. I had seen Triona fight him using her sharpened talons and a sword. I had seen how John held her back and confused her with his blade. Still…
John went on. “I’ve been using swords since I was a kid. Our great, great, great grandfather collected broad swords, and it went down through the generations. When I was seven I wanted to be a dragon slayer.” John chuckled, a slight flush coloring his cheeks. “I guess little boys never grow up. We just get taller.”
A shuffling noise came from behind Merlin’s chair, and Archú whined lowly.
“I can teach Amanda how to use a bow,” Emma suggested. “Two weeks isn’t much time, but we can do something with it. I can throw a sword about too if I have to, but my strength is archery.”
“You can use a broad sword?” Amanda asked wide-eyed. We didn’t have much call for using swords growing up in Maine.
Emma shrugged. “I guess everyone has something in their blood. John showed me a few things when I was a kid. I know there’s more to it, but stance and keeping the sharp end away is a good start. I guess I gravitated more to Robin Hood than King Arthur. No offense.” She raised an eyebrow and winkled her nose when she addressed Arthur.
He bent his head respectfully. “No offense taken.”
I was partial to the idea of Amanda with a bow in her hand if it meant keeping a distance from any hand-to-hand combat. Like Emma, she didn’t possess the speed and agility to match a Guardian.
“The mist thing,” I said, thinking about the guys in the park. If they travel as mist, why couldn’t we?
“Is there more to that particular statement?” Guinevere prompted helpfully.
“Well, yeah,” I replied with the obvious. “I want to know how to do it.”
“I can teach you,” Merlin offered without missing a beat, although he continued to watch his dancing fingers. “Forgotten ways are not lost ways. As I told you, mountain, you have no idea what you are capable of. None of you do.”
“What about Lewis and Carmel?” Triona asked.
“You want them to join in?” I responded, surprised by her suggestion.
“Gods no!” she said. “I want to keep them out of this if at all possible. What if something goes wrong? What if we aren’t there to protect them in the future? Don’t they have a right to know what’s happening?”
I reflected for a moment. I wanted to talk to Lewis about all this. I wanted him to help me make sense of everything the way he did when I began to show signs of my Guardian blood. “No,” I said. “We shouldn’t tell them. We should play it like we did before we left for Tara—need to know. They can’t help us, and if we fail, we can’t help them.”
“They are safe for now,” Annice assured us. “We are limited with support but have people watching them.”
“How much do you really think you can teach in a couple of days?” Joshua leaned his elbow on the table and fixed
John with a challenging look.
“Enough,” Arthur answered his question before John had a chance. “I will help.”
“Me too,” Guinevere added. “I have a debt to repay.”
Joshua rubbed the back of his neck and eased back. Eila smirked. Arthur had to be telling the truth. He was convinced he could teach us all enough to give us the upper hand against Zeal. This was good news.
“Regardless of debt,” Arthur explained, “it is the right thing to do.” He linked his fingers with Guinevere’s and pressed his lips to the back of her hand, gazing at her as though the rest of us in the room no longer existed. “You agree, Emrys, do you not?”
Merlin’s lips widened. It wasn’t quite a grin but he did seem interested for a few seconds before he disappeared behind a fog of confusion. He apparently found something fascinating about the wrought iron light fittings hanging over the table.
So that was it. Thirteen days and this would be over one way or another.
Chapter 21
Confessions
I WOKE TO A FIST hammering on the thick wooden door of our bedroom. Amanda rolled over and curled into my arms, burying her face in my chest.
“Why does everyone around here hate sleep?” she moaned, her warm breath heating my bare skin.
We’d talked about training until well past sun up, and judging by the hazy light slicing through the heavy drapes, it couldn’t be more than early afternoon.
The banging continued.
“Ben, Amanda,” Samuel called urgently through the door. “You need to wake up. Ben!” The intensity of his voice grew with each word and my chest clenched. Samuel wasn’t prone to exaggeration in word or action.
“Be right there,” I called back, surprised by the grainy texture of the sound.
“Quickly,” Samuel pushed.
Amanda lifted her head. One eye squeezed shut as she tried to focus on me with the other. Dust whooshed upward and danced through the sunbeams of light in the room like tiny particles of glitter. Goose bumps rose on my arms in the cool air, and I wondered if this place ever felt warm.