Shades of Avalon

by Carol Oates

  I slipped my feet into my sneakers and picked up my T-shirt from the floor, pulling it over my head on the way to the door.

  Samuel’s hands lay on the frame of the door when I opened it. He looked up at me though eyes rimmed with dark smudges, startling me with his disheveled appearance. A faint hint of facial hair covered his jawline, though I had never seen him with anything other than a close shave. His shirt was wrinkled again, and his feet were bare.

  “Jesus, Samuel,” I began, alarmed, the hairs on the back of my neck prickled. “What the hell happened?”

  I heard shuffling from behind, and Amanda dragged herself from bed.

  Samuel opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Amanda’s fingers curled over my shoulder as she came to my side.

  “Oh no,” she murmured at the sight of him.

  I fiddled with the string on my sweatpants to stop my hands from shaking.

  “They are coming,” Samuel said and pushed off the frame. He threaded his fingers through his hair as my foggy, sleep addled brain struggled to take in his meaning.

  “They can’t. We’re not ready, and we have almost two weeks to prepare.”

  Samuel grunted a laugh. “I don’t think Zeal is stopping to consider if we’ve had sufficient time to prepare for him. He isn’t coming for a fight. He’s coming for the Stone.”

  Amanda stepped toward him and took his hand. “I don’t think Ben meant it that way, and it’s John. They are coming for a person, not a thing.”

  Samuel frowned and sucked in a breath. “No, you’re right. I apologize. I’m afraid I’m not thinking as clearly as I could be.”

  “Least of my worries now, Samuel.” I knew the hope of his son returning must rest heavy on his shoulders. But he knew we couldn’t just let Zeal take John instead. If Zeal intends an exchange. What’s to say he didn’t intend to slaughter us? “Where’s Triona?”

  “She’s in the basement training room with John,” Samuel said. “I heard from a contact not five minutes ago. I haven’t even told Annice yet.”

  My heart pounded rapidly inside my chest, making it hard to think straight. There were things we needed to do. “I’ll get her. If she doesn’t know yet, she will as soon as they try to move Caleb.”

  “Wait here while I get my jeans on,” Amanda said to him. “I’ll go with you to gather up the others.”

  “Wait.” I grabbed her arm, forcing her to meet my eyes. “You aren’t ready for this.”

  Her brow puckered. “None of us are, Ben. We’ll have to make do. We don’t have a choice.”

  She was right. It didn’t mean I had to like it. “Whatever happens, promise me you won’t take any foolish chances.”

  “Likewise.” She smirked, but her hand trembled.

  I slid my hand around her neck and covered her mouth with mine. Not caring about our audience, I slipped my tongue past her lips and tasted her sweetness, committing it to memory. Amanda soon melted into the kiss. I savored her rapid heartbeat and the quick breaths. In a different possibility of life, another Amanda and Ben might have been kissing goodbye before work. No matter what, we had to get through this. Even if I couldn’t give her the exact future Merlin showed me, I’d be damned if I’d let our story end here.

  Her face was flushed when I drew back, and her eyes flicked to Samuel who pretended not to see our exchange.

  “I’ll see you both downstairs,” I said as I passed Samuel.

  “I’ll just be a second,” Amanda told him before closing the door.

  I made my way into the depths of the mansion and progressed through a series of stone tunnels illuminated by small fixtures casting triangles of pale yellow light on the polished floors. Several doors punctuated the tunnel and I opened them all.

  When I reached the final door, I walked into the training room, and my feet refused to move—as if I’d stepped into quick drying concrete.

  Holy crap. What had I walked in on?

  They didn’t notice me.

  John had Triona backed up against one of the side walls, her fingers curled into the paneling. Below her fingertips, five uneven narrow valleys were scratched into the wood.

  She stared straight at John, utterly transfixed. He held her there, one forearm pressed horizontally above her chest, his upper body bare and covered in a sheen of sweat from their work out. The black mark on his back glistened in the artificial overhead light giving it the appearance of oil painted on his spine. The crescents had extended since I last saw the mark, curling in on themselves to form the beginning of three spirals shapes. It more closely resembled the tri-spiral I had seen online.

  The muscles of John’s upper arm and back were tensed to the point of rigidity and flexed with each panting breath he took. His eyes were as wide as hers, and his lips were drawn back over his gritted teeth from the force he was exerting to hold her there. Or maybe it was to hold himself back. I couldn’t honestly be sure of which, as each pant brought their bodies in contact.

  Triona’s other hand pressed dents into his skin above the sweat-soaked band of his pants. She wasn’t pushing him away. She was pulling him closer.

  When his eyes flickered to her lips, and his tongue darted out to skim across his own, I came back to my senses. There were some things a brother didn’t need to see.

  “Eh hem,” I coughed.

  John sprang away from her as if I’d yelled fire. Triona was clearly shaken up and blushing a deeper shade of red than I had ever seen on her. She went to gather her things, picking up a towel and a bottle of water. There was something swirling like dense fog between them, making the air thick and hard to breathe.

  “We need to gather upstairs,” I said calmly so as not to panic either of them.

  It didn’t work.

  She froze, and the color drained from her face. “What’s happened?” Triona demanded.

  My eyebrows pulled down. Perhaps Merlin was wrong about her sensing Caleb.

  On the other side of the room, John paused in wiping himself down with a towel. He kept his back to us but turned his head in profile, expressing his interest without intruding. This had everything to do with him too.

  Triona blinked rapidly, and her breathing escalated. She swallowed hard, as though she might be sick.

  “Samuel heard Zeal is on the move.”

  A small startled cry escaped from her throat, and she bit down on her bottom lip too late to stifle it. The guilt was written across her expression when she chanced a peek at John.

  He grimaced and turned his attention to gulping water.

  Triona wiped her palm across her forehead and down her cheek. Her eyes glazed over with the panic I wanted to avoid. Her knees bent, and she dropped slowly onto rubberized flooring, swiping her hands along her thighs briskly.

  I took a step toward her. “It’s okay if you don’t sense him,” I said, hoping to reassure her. “It just means he isn’t with them yet.”

  Her face whipped in my direction, her eyes wide. “What if he isn’t with them at all? What if we were wrong?”

  I hunched down beside her, conscious to keep my expression neutral. “We’re not wrong, Triona.”

  “Ben’s right.” John came up behind me and stood over us. “This means we have some time. We can’t lose focus and fall apart.”

  We both looked up to him.

  “Whatever happens,” he added. His jaw cracked with tension.

  Triona sighed, and her shoulders relaxed. John’s words gave her confidence, just like they had in Tara, when she doubted her ability to revive Amanda. John offered Triona his hand. After a slight hesitation, she took it and allowed John to pull her to her feet. He released her right away, probably to avoid making things more awkward than they already were. He let me stand without assistance.

  “I’ll see you upstairs,” Triona said in a strained whisper and brushed passed me, avoiding eye contact.

  In my opinion, this situation between John and Triona was not one-sided. How was I supposed to deal with this? I should mind my own busines
s. Triona’s love life had nothing to do with me. I couldn’t know what was inside her head, or what would have happened if I hadn’t intruded. Probably nothing. It didn’t matter if she had residual feelings for John. She’d chosen Caleb, her soul mate.

  All the more reason to finish Zeal and get back to our lives. Still, a pesky, niggling voice in my head kept muttering Triona would be happy with John too. Racks of swords, chains, and other hand weapons I wasn’t familiar with lined the back wall of the room. John self-consciously placed the training equipment back where it belonged. Everything had its rightful place. The tightness in John’s shoulders was obvious, as was the strained frown on his face.

  “You know I love her, right?” John blurted, wiping the sword in his hand. The overhead light caught on the gleaming metal and reflected onto his face.

  For a moment I wasn’t even sure it was a question directed at me. John pushed out a hard breath, his shoulders slumped, and he turned his eyes on me. They were tortured. I never fully understood, until right at this moment, why Triona took his memories. This was so messed up, because as much as I wanted to argue against it, I couldn’t. John genuinely loved my sister.

  He stood waiting, and I nodded, unable to answer aloud. The situation with John and Triona had been so completely different from her and Caleb.

  With Caleb, he just showed up, and that was it—Triona was a goner. They didn’t know each other. Infatuation at first sight, fate, whatever the inescapable force was that pulled soul mates together. Real love grew and matured over time, planting roots from a lifetime of experiences. Those experiences that should have brought them together, constantly drove Triona and Caleb apart.

  John and Triona’s relationship grew from a spark of attraction, and it was still growing. Triona loved him. I knew she did. I refused to believe she made the choices she had for anything less than love. Even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself. And it wasn’t a cosmic thing either. It wasn’t because neither of them had a choice. Maybe only the Guardian side of Triona belonged to Caleb, but what about her other, human side?

  What if Samuel, Annice, and everyone else had been right in their first assumption that Triona could or should be with a human? I shared both kinds of a relationship with Amanda, both the immediate knowledge we were meant for each other and the relationship growth. There was no one else for me in any universe. She owned both my human and Guardian parts. She owned me heart, body, mind, and soul.

  I couldn’t imagine stepping into John’s shoes.

  “I promised her I’d get over her—that I’d move on. To be honest, I’m not even sure I intended to try, but I wanted her to think it. Either way she never gave me a chance, and now I’m right back where I started. Head over heels for someone I can’t have and knee deep in things I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t know what to say here,” I started lamely. “I’m not exactly that type of guy who talks about feelings and stuff.”

  He smirked and raised an eyebrow. I supposed I deserved it, considering my emotional outburst the night before.

  “Not with other dudes,” I clarified.

  John chuckled, wiping the back of his neck with a hand towel before pulling a black T-shirt over his head. “I have no idea what just happened. I lost my head for a minute.” He waved his hand about. “You don’t have to say anything. I like you, Ben. Triona talked about you nonstop when she first came to England. I don’t want you to think I’m a man who would take advantage of this situation. That’s not what’s going on here.”

  He walked toward me. John looked less human with each passing hour. His movements brought to mind a big cat on the prowl, all lean, sinewy muscle, flexing and straining beneath golden skin. Sweat darkened his blond hair and his chestnut brown eyes glinted with humor. I got a sense John hid many secrets about his past. If someone rattled his closet, more than money would come out. John looked down and shook his head, seeming to find amusement in his own confession.

  “I don’t,” I confessed because if it was my decision to play with destiny, he’d be my brother, not Caleb. He clapped me on the shoulder as if it went without saying—it wasn’t up to me.

  “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t trust me. I didn’t tell Triona everything about my past,” John said. “I don’t even care about this estate or family money. The only reason I didn’t cut all ties to my family is Emma. I was just looking after my father’s interests until she’s old enough. She’s still a child.”

  He paused, and the muscles in his cheek jumped. John approached the rack holding a selection of swords, some sheathed and some gleaming under the unnatural lights. “My dad was a workaholic who was never good enough for his own father. Then I came along, and the son became the father. Samuel seems like a good man. He loves and respects his son. So does Triona. I think that must mean Caleb is a good man too, someone worth saving.”

  “Hang on,” I interrupted. This sounded suspiciously like a goodbye speech and it didn’t sit right with me. “Don’t go there.”

  He fixed me with dubious eyes and proceeded to gather a selection of weapons. “We should get some of these upstairs.” He jerked his head, indicating for me to join him. “We aren’t prepared, and I’ve been thinking about what would happen if Zeal arrived early since last night. I spoke to Merlin about it this morning just in case. If I can buy some time and get Caleb to safety while I’m at it, I will.”

  “While you’re at what, exactly?”

  “Just promise if anything goes wrong, you’ll look out for my sister like you do for yours.”

  “You don’t have to ask,” I assured him.

  “Yeah, I do.” John smiled tightly. “Let’s go and get this over with.”

  Chapter 22

  The Storm

  EVERYONE HAD GATHERED in a group at the open front door by the time we got upstairs, well, everyone except for Merlin. He stood several feet away in the hallway, preening in front of a gilt framed mirror. He ran his fingers through his silver hair over and over, muttering words I couldn’t understand and wasn’t inclined to worry about.

  “Why are you all standing here?” I asked.

  The group parted reaveling Triona, her face flushed and her eyes bloodshot. Undeniable relief and guilt played across her features. She wouldn’t meet John’s gaze, even when he bent his knees, bringing them eye level. My stomach knotted all of a sudden, and the walls seemed to close in all around us. It’s happening.

  Archú held guard on the steps just outside the doorframe with his tail curled at the tip, listening for any sounds. His entire shaggy body appeared to be flexed and ready to spring at the smallest provocation. Even with copious amounts of dog hair, the definition of his sleek muscles showed through.

  “You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you?” Emma questioned John. She was still wearing check cotton pajama pants under a thick sweater. It sounded more like a warning or an accusation coupled with her direct, piercing gaze. Her fingers curled tighter around the bow in her hand.

  Eila turned away and moved gracefully toward the arched doorway. Joshua followed her. I wondered if Emma remembered John would have to answer honestly while in her presence.

  John licked his lips. “No, I don’t plan to.” His eyes darted left to nothing in particular.

  He was planning something. Whatever it was, he didn’t consider it a stupid move. I suspected otherwise.

  Samuel took one of the long, gleaming swords from John’s arms. The three-inch wide blade gave me chills. “I suggest we gather on the lawn where we have better views of the sky.”

  “Have you ever used a sword?” John inquired as the others followed one at a time, including me.

  The corner of Samuel’s lips quirked up, and he stepped back out of the way of the others, waving the weapon around, as though measuring its weight in his hand. “It’s been a very long time. I could have used a refresher course.”

  John nodded in acknowledgment. “Merlin, what about you?”

  The crazy wizard didn
’t as much as flinch or blink. “Not my weapon of choice,” he practically sang.

  “And I brought my own,” Guinevere added with a soft smile toward Arthur beside her.

  He had swapped his tunic for jeans and an open shirt with rolled up sleeves over a black T-shirt. The guy appeared to fit into the twenty-first century effortlessly, not that he’d been exposed to much of it yet. He’d been a little startled at my horseless cart at first, but after that, he took everything in his stride as far as I could tell. Although he did come from a world where magic was an everyday occurrence. How would he cope with travel on airplanes and metropolitan cities? I hoped I got a chance to find out.

  “What are you doing?” I asked as Amanda took a sword.

  Her eyebrows lifted toward her unbrushed hair. “What does it look like?”

  “It looks like you think you’re coming with us. You and Emma should stay in here.” The words flowed out unedited. I needed to get a grip on that around Eila. Nevertheless, the sentiment was exactly as I intended.

  Emma stepped forward. “Not a flippin’ chance, golden boy!”

  I rolled my shoulders and pulled myself up to my full height. “Eh, yeah, not a chance. When I agreed—”

  “Hold up.” Amanda threw her palm up right, indignant. “Before you even go there, Ben Pryor, let’s not go there. You didn’t agree to anything.”

  I sucked in air though my nostrils, oblivious to any judgments from the others. I saw all the ways Amanda was a better person than I was. I saw the ways she stood head and shoulders above me. This wasn’t about me turning cave man or thinking I’d stepped back in time to the fifties with me ordering my wife around. This was only about keeping her and Emma safe.

  Amanda’s angry expression cut deep.

  “No one is staying behind.” John spoke the words with a certainty devoid of potential argument.

  I opened my mouth to argue anyway. I couldn’t watch Amanda get hurt. It would kill me as sure as a blade through her chest would kill her.

  Triona advanced this time. She froze inches from my face. “No one is staying behind if they don’t choose it, Ben. I’m still the queen.”