Her murmur finally got to him and Derek gulped. The wall was glowing; it radiated light from within. A gleam coming from a ceiling opening would not do that. It would break into a cone of light, dimming away from the source. What he saw was different; the light was everywhere. And the warmth… The warmth enveloped him, welcomed him like a lover’s arms. It made him long for home and peace.
Derek snapped out of his thoughts to find Sacha’s sea green gaze still on him, studying his face. He insisted.
“It must be you. This place recognizes your powers, or something.”
Sacha took her time to reply, long enough for him to notice her lips had regained some of their natural strawberry coloring, as she slowly warmed up. Her voice seemed more assured, too.
“I am gifted with Air and Fire, Derek. What’s happening here is different. It’s difficult to explain. It feels…” She paused. “I don’t know what it is. But I am not the one doing this.”
Derek played with the bag strap.
“Who, then? Me? You suggested so before, but that’s impossible.”
“Why not? Caer Lon is a sacred place, the High City of the Pendragons. It is yours, by all means.”
He shook his head. What she suggested was crazy. They were in a cave, not inside a long-forgotten city, and in no way could a bunch of stones react to a human being. The light, the warmth, they had to be a magician's doing. It was ridiculous to think a few drops of his blood on the ground could unleash all of this. She always went for the wildest theories, when there had to be a reasonable explanation, some fluorescent moss or…
Derek tried another approach.
“What about Elwyn? You’re twins; you have a special bond. If we are getting closer, can you… feel his magic?”
Sacha frowned slightly in thinking.
“Maybe.”
A few seconds later, her grin lit the air more surely than the strange glow coming from the walls.
“Do you remember when he animated the statue while King Ilar was visiting?”
Ilar had come with his son, a prat of about their age, who had plagued her and every other girl in the castle with unrequited attentions or insulting remarks until a growling gargoyle scared the hell out of him. Elwyn liked nothing more than show off his link to Earth. Derek bared his teeth in a fierce smile.
“Oh yes, absolutely.”
They both chuckled at the memory of the yelps and fret; Geraint somehow forgot to discipline Elwyn. They all wondered if his royal visitor had asked him not to.
Derek gazed away first, pushing onto his feet.
“If you feel rested, we should move on.”
Sacha nodded, and quickly gathered her clothes. She said nothing about the fact the strange heat had nearly dried them and he was glad she had dropped the subject.
Chapter 25
Sacha’s clothes were stiff and disagreeably hard on her skin. Her cloak hadn’t dried, so they decided to leave it behind. Her feet protested when they set off again, pumping into cold slushy boots, but she kept her mouth shut and followed.
Derek decided not to use their candles, for the glowing from the wall provided enough light to walk at a good pace, if they could consider the cautious progress they made along the corridors a good pace. The prince stopped each time the wall curved, motioning her to wait while he scouted a few yards ahead.
They didn’t talk, save for some encouraging words or directions from time to time, mostly from Derek. Sacha preferred it that way. Their previous conversation had clearly upset her companion. As for her, silence was preferable to mentioning their sleeping arrangements.
A smile tingled on her lips. His arms had been closed possessively around her, more than a friend was entitled to do, even in a life-threatening situation. She wasn’t naïve to the point she thought Derek had decided to put his humid clothes back on just because he was eager to get going. She suspected he found her desirable, and the knowledge felt surprising; confusing; amazing...
“I think I see a split ahead. Wait here.”
The young woman watched his large frame blurred away, still smiling, and used the brief pause to look around. The unusual brightness sculpted the stone into the strangest shapes, impossible mushrooms or crystalline trees. Where the outside rock had been black as obsidian, inside it was strained with pink and light grey and freckles of silver gilt. The light seemed to come specifically from those, as though the walls sparkled from within.
But what truly fascinated her was the warmth. It pulsed gently under her palm when she touched the stone. Sparks ignited up her arm when she trailed her fingertips on the surface smoothed by age.
Sacha wished Elwyn was here. His gift would have allowed him to feel the power coming from the mountain. And maybe the man striding ahead to scout would have listened to his friend more than he listened to her.
Once again, Derek interrupted her meditation. He looked concerned.
“The corridor splits in three branches ahead. The right one is completely dark.”
“And the other two?”
Derek took a swig from the jug he extracted from their pack.
“They are both bright. The one in the middle seems narrower, but it’s hard to tell.”
Sacha drank in turn, scrutinizing his face when she handed back the flask.
“It is bothering you.”
Derek gave her a surprised glance before he confirmed, “Yes; I don’t like it.”
She waited. The young prince put the jug back into their pack. Their reserve of fresh water was limited, too.
“There’s another hypothesis that we didn’t discuss earlier.”
“Which is?”
“What if all this-” he motioned to the walls surrounding them “-does not come from a friend?”
Her eyes widened in fright. Derek went on.
“Given we needed light and heat, we assumed they were a gift. I think we can’t dismiss the possibility of bait.”
Sacha heaved out a sigh. How could she convince him he was the source of the magic? That he had nothing to be afraid of? The vision they shared in the forest, the voice claiming her allegiance, the cavern brought to life, they all came from Caer Lon, reacting to his Pendragon blood. She opened her mouth to argue and stopped, suddenly suspicious.
“Derek?”
His lopsided smirk didn’t reassure her.
“We’ll go right.”
She had a bad feeling about this. If she was right, his choice of a path meant that they stayed in the dark for a reason, a very good one. They shouldn’t defy the High City, it was dangerous.
“I don’t think it is a good idea…”
“I thought you would not. That’s why you are staying here.”
“What? No!”
Derek gently unclutched her hand from his sleeve to take a candle from their bag.
“I’ll just make a quick survey. I’ll be back before you have finished listing sweet names to call me.”
His banter didn’t amuse her in the least. Sacha crossed her arms on her chest and scowled.
“You’re not going in there without me. If this is a trap…”
Derek stepped forward.
“That’s exactly why I don’t want you to come.”
“Derek-”
Heat crept up her cheeks when he moved closer, his blue eyes diving into her green ones.
“I’ll be careful.”
Little flakes of light spiralled around his head, branding the air around them with gold. He was still holding her hand, and the contact became almost unbearable; yet she couldn’t resign herself to let go. She wanted to hold him, hold onto him, until her heart settled back into a quieter pace.
A grin played on his mouth when his gaze moved down from her face to their fastened hands. Far away in the back of her mind, her pride jerked and tried to rebel, as she realized Derek was using charm to force her to stay put. She couldn’t care less. His stare was a soul-binding navy blue.
“Thank you.”
Sacha blinked. She had li
t the candle he was holding without even noticing she was using magic. Derek bowed his head once, and strode away.
Sacha sit with her back to the wall. She closed her eyes to listen to his footsteps moving away. Was the knot low in her stomach what he felt when she cajoled him into obeying her? She failed to know if she liked it, or not.
oOo
One twist of the hand and the key turned in its lock to ensure Wolfryth he would not be disturbed. What he intended to do required a total focus. The spell would project its conjurer’s memory into another magical being. It would open his mind completely, so any intruder would be able to gain an unshaking hold on his psyche, and even strip him of his powers. Dark magic always came with a price of blood, if one were taken off guard.
Standing in front of a full-length mirror, the sorcerer opened his hand. The metallic powder scintillated in his palm.
“Traiasca mijin eloben.”
He blew on his palm and the mirror surface filled with gold dust.
oOo
The stomping in the corridor told her all she needed to know. A ferocious smile curved her lips. Frightened whines and panic gallop erupted from below. She didn’t care. The wait was worth it. Finally the time had come. Tonight, she was going to conquer the Dragon’s blood, and acquired its power.
The magician caught a reflection on the window. The full lips showed more carnal want than grace. The stubborn chin, callousness. The eyes, those eyes that once had been a very pale green, made the blazing fire which ravaged the towers look like a jealous little flicker of a flame. The long dark hair swayed in its leather band when she turned to the door.
“Sorcerer!”
She turned around, a mocking smirk on her face.
“Your Highness. I nearly wait.”
The man’s fear and grief at seeing his castle in ruins and his men dying swirled around his shoulders, delectable. She licked her lips, trying to catch a taste of it on her mouth. Yes; she perceived fear, and anger too. Her sneer twitched. William Pendragon was exactly where she wanted him. The King - or rather former king, she corrected automatically - took a step forward, blade held in both hands.
The sneer morphed into a hoarse laugh.
“You are no match for me. Legi pavirke.”
A gust of air smashed into William Pendragon’s back strong enough to make the large man stumble forward, still gripping his sword with both hands. Annoyance blazed in the wolfish eyes at his persistence, amusement gone.
“Lazar meld ild.”
A tongue of fire snaked out of nowhere, darting toward the king. William Pendragon jumped aside, then dodged, groaning in pain when the heat licked his thigh. Desperate to strike back, he lunged, thrusting his blade upward.
Steel bit into her cheek, leaving a trail of blood and pain. Sacha hissed. How dared he? How did a ridiculous kinglet dare touch her! Fury erupted in thunder and flames around her. She wanted him on his knees and broken. She wanted him to beg before she sliced his throat open.
She had ravaged his kingdom. Now she was going to crush him to dust. She licked a drop of blood on the corner of her mouth, and snarled. Oh, how she was going to enjoy his suffering…
A snap of her fingers and the man collapsed on the floor, holding his elbow with a cry of pain, but he refused to drop his sword. Sacha allowed the wild beast holed up in her chest out in a dangerous growl.
Straightening the large frame she inhabited to its full height, she whipped the air with her hand. The man cried out loud, as more bones broke. Still he fought to stand up, using his blade as a crutch. His knees gave in a flip of her hand; then his ankles. He pushed on his arms, the sword useless on the floor, and she splintered his shoulders. He still refused to yield.
Sacha gritted her teeth, irritated by his stubbornness.. All he had was hers now, why bother? She didn’t need Pendragon alive to obtain his power. She just needed his blood.
“Legi angrep.”
William gasped when an invisible lance pierced his flank; his eyes widened in pain and with one final jerk, he was gone.
Finally! Finally she had overpowered the Dragon, and its power was hers! Her laugh inflated inside her; the twisted joy was maddening. It rambled over her body and echoed forever in the empty room.
oOo
Sacha shrieked in terror, desperately gasping for air. Her throat clenched hurtfully, forbidding her to take a proper breath. Oh God, what she had done? It had been so pleasant to torture the man, to witness his agony and add to it. Her stomach revolted and she fell forward to heave out non-existent bile on the stony ground. She had just killed Derek’s father and took intense pleasure from it. Oh Lord, Derek…
Sacha jumped to her feet, one hand on the wall to secure her stance, and started down the corridor.
“Derek!”
She found the split and stalled, momentarily blinded by the brightness in front of her. Running into darkness to be comforted by the son of the man she had killed... How could she? Blood hammered in her ears as her heart tried to escape her chest, yet not so loudly that she didn’t notice the rock’s threatening grumble. Sacha broke into a run.
“Derek!”
One strong arm intercepted her, the ghost of William seizing both of her arms to immobilize her. She screamed, unable to look away from her victim’s face, searching for twists of pain, a pain she had been so thrilled to inflict. The square chin and the masculine mouth were the same, yet untouched by death; the eyes were different, bluer, concerned.
“Sacha stop! The ceiling has partly collapsed up there, and I’m not sure about-“
The crash of falling rocks interrupted Derek. He leapt forward, pulling Sacha roughly after him.
“Quick!”
A crystalline bee gnawed at her arm; Derek didn’t allow her time to massage the bite, but hurled her behind him. The candlelight flickered and died under a shower of gravel and cobbles. Derek accelerated. Her shoulder hurt from his pull.
Derek pushed into the main tunnel. After the darkness, the soft light assaulted her dilated eyes. Protecting his eyes with one arm, the young man refused to slow down until he reached the place where they had parted and he pushed her into the wall, covering her body with his. Thunder rolled, alarmingly close. She ducked before him instinctively.
William's bones had snapped with the exact same thud that a boulder made behind them. So easily; a twist of her wrist had been enough. Enjoyable, really... Forgetting about danger, Sacha fought to free herself from his grasp. Derek jammed her head back into his chest.
“Stay down!”
Sacha hiccupped.
“Your father… Please Derek, forgive me, I-”
The grip on her forearms hardened, bringing tears to her eyes, unless it was the guilt...
“What are you talking about?”
The rolling of falling rock drained away. Sacha muffled a sob before she uttered the horrible truth.
“I killed him.”
Derek stepped back. Seeing the alarm and the shame in her eyes, he released her arms to take her face in his hands, forcing her gaze up. He said firmly: “My father died fifteen years ago, Sacha. Wolfryth murdered him, not you.”
Tears wet her cheeks.
“But I saw-”
She bit her tongue, eyes darting away.
“Sacha look at me.”
She obeyed, and let herself drown in the cobalt stare.
“You didn’t kill anyone. It was just another nightmare.”
The strength and the gentleness she read in his gaze brought more tears to her eyes. She swallowed them back, for him. Derek watched her face carefully, before he let his hands down her arms, and winked.
“Please don’t read too much into this, but I should have listened to you about this tunnel.”
Sacha snivelled. Her timid smile reassured him.
“Let’s avoid dark entrances in the near future, then.”
Chapter 26
Everything hurt, Elwyn realized. His back, his legs, his head, every part of his body yanked in pain
. He feared he would start screaming aloud if he dared to move a lash. All in all, nothing really different compared to the past few days… Except maybe that his mind was crystal clear, instead of fuzzy. Yes, he remembered every single minute, from the moment he had called on powers he didn’t even know he possessed to the spike piercing his stomach.
He rubbed the spot tentatively but took off his hand in the same movement with a loud groan. Come to think of it, the pain was awfully different compared to the past few days, about a thousand times different.
Elwyn carefully propped his back against the wall, panting and hissing. A squeak objected to his efforts, immediately followed by the rush of claws on stone.
“I wish I could weasel my way out as you do… Ow…”
The rat didn’t bother to answer. Elwyn sighed.
He remembered everything; yet some parts of Fillin’s spitting, he wished he could forget. Sacha was coming for him. She shouldn’t. He couldn’t begin to imagine what Wolfryth wanted from his sister, but she had to stay away. Nothing was more important than that.
“Please Sacha, for once in your life, don’t rescue me…”
oOo
“Do you remember him?”
Surprised, Derek looked up to the woman cringing against the wall some feet away from him. They never brought up the topic of their dead parents, her mother and his father. In fact, before they started on this journey together, they had rarely exchanged more than ten words at a time, their sporadic attempts at conversation generally ending with one of them storming out.
She did not sound annoyed or angry now. Derek looked away, scratching the ground with the heel of his boot silently.
“My mother smelt of roses. Father says she used to sing ballads to lull us to sleep, but I remember only the roses.”
Glancing at her, Derek noticed she had circled her knees with her arms, and pressed her cheek on the cradle, her favourite position lately. It made her look small, and fragile; approachable. It stirred something inside him, a need to protect and soothe, somehow deeper than the longing, or was that a part of it?
Return to Caer Lon Page 17