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Heirs of Avalon: The passage

Page 19

by Béatrice Mary


  The forest gradually took on its autumn tints, and the brown and orange leaves swirled down gently from the trees, covering the paths and mossy clearings, announcing the inevitable turn of the seasons.

  Melora continued her sword practice, sometimes with me. I was impressed by her progress. We made sure to appear indifferent to each other during the day, but our daily rides gave us the chance to let our emotions show freely, protected from all eyes save those of the forest creatures. Melora got into the habit of coming to me at the fall of night. After our love-making, she would sleep in my arms until the alarm rang at dawn, when she would slip back to her room to avoid meeting with anybody in the halls.

  As for Viviane, she had entrenched herself in the affairs of her business, and left her office only for meals. I knew she was terribly disappointed when the passage failed to open, so I redoubled my research. However, I felt more apprehension about it every day – I had to face it: spending my life without Melora seemed inconceivable now, and absolutely intolerable. My heart bled every time I thought about our separation.

  So is this ‘being in love?’

  I felt lost, like I was caught in a trap, and there was no one I could speak to about it. No solution truly satisfied me.

  One day, I’d been sitting at the breakfast table for about ten minutes, reading the paper, when Viviane appeared. After delicately spreading strawberry jam on her toast, she abruptly announced that she intended to go to London at the end of the week on business matters. She reeled off a long list of safety measures to take during her absence, but I wasn’t paying strict attention to her – Melora’s empty chair was distracting me too much. This was the fifth day in a row that she hadn’t come down to breakfast.

  At first, she’d explained that she was sick, then that she was tired, and in fact, she had looked terribly pale the last time I’d seen her. I had offered to use my gifts to heal her, but she had refused, seeming extremely vexed. I didn’t know what to think, especially as she had stayed in her own room the last two nights. I tried my best to figure out what was irritating her, but despite my powers, I couldn’t think of anything.

  Melora had reproached me before for not expressing my feelings, while she never hesitated to reveal herself. She wanted to know that I cared about her, and I had been incapable of responding in the way she seemed to need. But she was my reason for living, and every minute spent away from her tormented me! So why couldn’t I express that?

  Because I don’t have the right.

  Interrupting Viviane, who was still talking away at full steam, I asked her if she’d seen Melora recently. She seemed astonished.

  “No, why?”

  “She doesn’t seem herself lately.”

  “She must be finding the time long,” she explained with a hint of reproach in her voice. “I’ll talk to her, if that will make you feel better.”

  That day, Melora didn’t show up for training or for our ride. When she finally appeared at teatime, I could hardly fail to notice her red eyes. After several attempts at attracting her attention, she finally looked at me, and I felt reassured – her affection for me was shining in her face. But there was something else too… an inexplicable fear.

  Viviane began the conversation: “My dear Melora, I haven’t had much time these days to devote to you, and I’ve neglected my duties to you a bit. I’d like you to join me in the library after tea. I’m sure you’ll be interested in seeing maps of the island and the city. They’ll help familiarize you with your kingdom before your arrival. I can even show you the genealogies of Avalon’s greatest noble families. By the way, your future spouse must be among them.”

  She pronounced this last phrase with confidence, but just as she finished, we heard a sound of breaking porcelain – Melora had knocked over her cup. Black anger darkened her face as she jumped to her feet, both hands clenched. She seemed dangerously close to hysteria as she glared down at her godmother, the powerful fairy magician, and declared, “I don’t want to choose my husband from some catalogue. And I don’t want any of those men as a husband! I don’t want to go to Avalon. I want to stay here!”

  Viviane sat up straight and snapped at Melora, “What makes you think you have any choice?”

  I was about to intervene, but I didn’t have time. A gust of wind sent the precious tea set flying. Vases, candles, knickknacks – everything in the room flew up into the air and then crashed to the floor. Some things fell on the carpet and were spared, but others exploded on the parquet with a deafening noise.

  “Hey, let’s calm down!” I scolded Viviane. “Aren’t you taking this a bit too far?”

  I took a stand in front of Melora, ready to defend her against my grandmother’s fury, but Viviane looked stupefied, and when she exclaimed, “I’m not responsible for all this!”

  I had to wonder what was happening. She looked more and more surprised as she looked at Melora, so I turned to her too. She seemed even more frightened than before.

  “I’d better go to my room,” Melora stammered, then she ran out.

  Viviane and I watched her leave, without moving, too occupied trying to understand what had happened. When I looked questioningly at Viviane, she seemed absorbed in thought.

  That evening before dinner, I decided to go talk to Melora. I was knocking for the second time when I saw George appear.

  “Mademoiselle is not in her room,” he declared tranquilly.

  “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know, Monsieur le comte. I saw her leave and then head toward the stables.”

  That alarmed me. I rushed down the stairs and came upon Viviane and Gliton deep in discussion in the entrance hall.

  “Melora’s gone out,” I said hurriedly.

  “At this hour?” Viviane exclaimed.

  “All alone?” said Gliton.

  “That’s what it appears. I’m going to look for her.”

  I didn’t give them the chance to add anything, as I had already run out the door. I shivered at the biting cold. It was late evening in the fall, and winter was already in the air. I ran to the stables, as my intuition was telling me to hurry. I heard Lightning calling me agitatedly, and he informed me of what I already guessed: Melora had left on her bay mare.

  Without losing a second, I straddled my horse and took off at a gallop. Those familiar prickling sensations warned me of danger, and my faithful mount increased his speed and lengthened his stride. The trees told me which paths to follow, and distraught animals called out to me that something evil was in the forest. I felt panic rising within me. Melora was alone and defenseless. Lightning took the path to the lake and I soon caught a glimpse of her horse, but after a rapid search around the area, I could see that she was not there. I leaped back into the saddle, alert, listening, when a cry rang out close by, freezing my blood.

  When I reached the spot, what I saw terrorized me. Melora was surrounded by a dozen carregs who’d come out from the bowels of the forest.

  But who sent them?

  She was fighting with her bare hands against creatures armed to the teeth. Without a second’s hesitation, I took out my guddio and sliced the air with it, transforming it into my sword. I heard Melora shout my name as I rushed into the fray, striking carregs left and right.

  What happened then seemed unreal to me. The trees started creaking and howling with pain as their branches were ripped off and stripped of their leaves as they floated in the air, before transforming into extremely sharp stakes. I knew these would be directed against me.

  At the instant the stakes were flying toward me, I suddenly heard Viviane chanting a protection spell in my back. Against all expectation, one of the pointed branches penetrated the shield she had raised. I was able to dodge it, just barely, by diving to the side, but I couldn’t evade it entirely, and it caught my shoulder, cutting me badly. Burning pain exploded in my whole arm.

  Melora shouted my name again, then screamed with terror and pain. I stood up painfully to see what she was looking at, and received a ter
rible shock. Gliton was staring at Melora without moving. In her eyes passed surprise, regret and love, and then they saw nothing more. I looked with horror at the stake planted in her stomach. Viviane, looking as dismayed as I was, grabbed her by the shoulders to slow her fall.

  We had no time to react, for suddenly, the ancient oak tree behind Melora started rumbling, then it split into two, emitting intense yellow light as an enormous, sinewy golden lion bounded out of it. The emblem of King Arthur!

  His silky fur shone, his nostrils smoked, and his eyes, red with fury, glared at the creatures around him. Roaring, he leaped in front of Melora and swung his mighty head back and forth, skittish and light on his great paws, ready to bound at anything that moved. The attackers could have no doubt of the lion’s capacity to protect Melora. He dismembered the carregs that tried to approach, tossing pieces of them to the four corners of the battlefield until not one remained standing.

  Silence fell, a deathly silence. Viviane had gotten to her feet, searching for the source of the attack, but she couldn’t sense anything to guide her.

  Standing before Gliton’s lifeless body, she announced in a weary voice emptied of emotion, “Whoever it was has gone.”

  Melora ran to me and fell into my arms, sobbing. I hugged her tightly – I had been so frightened for her. I supported her as we approached Gliton. Viviane had pulled out the stake, letting the fatal wound appear. I tried to gather my thoughts, seeking an explanation for what had just happened. Melora begged me to do something, her eyes full of sorrow and tears, which pierced my heart. I kneeled down next to her and murmured that there was nothing I could do. It was too late.

  She moaned and sobbed even harder, frantically kissing the face of her adoptive mother. Her emotion was palpable, affecting us all, and the entire forest cried for her. Gliton was one of Avalon’s grand priestesses, guardian of the island, a powerful healer. The elves gathered, and wove a shroud of fragrant herbs and grasses that they lay delicately over her. Viviane used magic to raise Gliton’s body a few inches from the ground, and slowly we brought her back to the castle, our hearts heavy.

  This much sadder event reunited the Avalonians for the second time at Comper. The funeral took place in the cathedral. Melora entered with dignity to the plaintive notes of an organ, followed closely by Viviane holding Gabriel’s arm. When Melora took her place, that of the sovereign, the knights entered, carrying the casket on their shoulders. They set it on the altar, and everyone listened in silence to Father Antoine’s sermon, and sought for comfort in prayer. The ceremony concluded, the casket was laid in the castle crypt, awaiting its final resting place in the palace crypt of Avalon. It was the same for all the inhabitants of the island – they wanted to be buried in their homeland.

  After the reception held in Gliton’s honor, most of the Avalonians said their goodbyes. Viviane had not spoken a word since the previous evening, and Gabriel was curious to know why.

  Does she know who’s behind the attack?

  He decided to broach the subject with her later in the evening.

  Melora was suffering from the loss of her loyal nurse, the woman who had always been a mother to her, but what pained her the most was that she hadn’t shared her secret with her. She trembled at the idea that Gabriel, too, could have died without knowing it. Her secret had to be revealed, and she was determined to talk to Viviane and Gabriel that very evening.

  Viviane had been thinking things over since the day before. No magician on this earth was capable of breaking into her protective shields, not even Morgana. The only one who had the ability was Merlin, and she knew it couldn’t have been him.

  Who then?

  The question had been haunting her since the attack. She was preoccupied by another enigma, too: How had Melora called on the golden lion, King Arthur’s protector, that Merlin had created? Everything pointed at Myrddin, but she, above all others, knew that was impossible. She had been prepared for anything, and yet…

  Tonight, she would have to talk to Gabriel.

  I spent the rest of the day with Galahad. The castle was once again on the alert – there was a new enemy to combat outside our walls, and the task was going to be more difficult because we didn’t know whom we were dealing with.

  I was about to go back to my room when George told me that Viviane wanted to talk to me, and that she was waiting for me at the top of the watchtower. I thought the meeting place a bit strange, but made no comment. It didn’t matter where – I needed to speak to her too.

  As I exited the castle, I saw Melora coming down the stairs. She shot me a questioning look. Miss Bridget had just told her that Viviane wanted to see her as well, so we took the countless steps to the top of the tower together. We found Viviane scrutinizing the horizon with a grave look, as was often the case. She seemed tense, and her smile of greeting was a rather tight smile.

  “Come over here!” she said, waving her hand. “I wanted to see you about what happened yesterday.”

  But then she hesitated, and both Melora and I broke in, Melora to say that she wanted to see her too, and me to ask point blank, “Do you know who attacked us?”

  We all looked at each other. Viviane still vacillated, but finally she said, “That’s what I was trying to find out…”

  “Who could be capable of breaking one of your spells?” I exclaimed. “I thought that was impossible.”

  “It is impossible. Only Myrddin could do that.”

  “But he’s dead! Plus, he would never target us!”

  Viviane remained silent a moment before murmuring, “Gabriel, I have something to tell you –”

  I interrupted, determined to have my say. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I didn’t have the presence of mind to call on the golden lion to protect Melora. Luckily you reacted.”

  I glanced at Melora and grumbled, “I’m a lousy protector.”

  She took my hand without a word.

  “That wasn’t my work,” Viviane replied. “I can’t call him. That’s a spell created by Myrddin.”

  I looked at her, incomprehension written on my face. “Then, who did it?”

  “I’d sure like to know…” she said, then she turned to Melora. “How were you able to use magic? It was you as well, the other day, in the living room, wasn’t it? What intrigues me is that neither the king nor your mother were magicians.”

  I felt Melora’s hand grip mine painfully. She took a deep breath before avowing: “It was not me.” She paused, dreading what was to follow. Viviane and I looked at her incredulously, as confused as could be. No one could have done it then!

  “It’s him,” Melora murmured in a barely audible voice, looking down at her abdomen.

  Viviane was looking at her now with eyes as big as saucers. I still didn’t understand anything.

  Who is she talking about?

  Viviane found her tongue, “Gabriel, what have you done?!”

  Her voice was full of reproach. Stunned, I was still trying to understand what they were talking about, when Melora took up my defense.

  “This is not just about him,” she spit out vehemently. “It was my choice too! We care about each other and he’s the one I want to marry. You decided Gabriel wasn’t good enough to rule the kingdom at my side, but that’s not true! He’s a powerful magician, and his child will be too. He already is, even though he hasn’t even been born. Plus, didn’t you say that an Avalonian couldn’t get pregnant?”

  “It has to be because of your pendant.”

  In a flash of lucidity, I understood. I felt petrified.

  “The blood of King Arthur and of the great magician Merlin flows in my blood,” Melora said. “This baby is the worthiest descendant of Avalon.”

  An indescribable, powerful emotion filled me. Frightful fear blended with extraordinary joy. Tremendous panic struggling against unthought-of force, but suddenly, it all became clear.

  Of course I was scared at the idea of being a father, but my own father had been fully capable of it. He had loved my m
other, and I loved Melora. My greatest worry was being able to protect her. But didn’t I have everything I needed for that?

  I looked at her, my eyes filled with tenderness, and kept them on her as I said, “She’s right. I love Melora. I would give my life for her. I’d sell my soul to the devil to be close to her! Don’t ask me to go away from her! That’s completely out of the question.”

  I observed Viviane’s face for a reaction, but she’d regained control of her emotions, and she simply chose to warn me, “You will age far faster than your child will.”

  “You don’t know that,” Melora retorted. “Gabriel has shown many times that he’s unique. Maybe he even has the capacity to live as long as we do in Avalon?”

  I broke in. “I don’t care about that, in any case. I’ll spend all the years that nature cares to give me at the side of my wife and our child.”

  Viviane capitulated with a sigh, and her shoulders slumped in resignation. “It’s not that I don’t want you as sovereign. I simply didn’t want to see you suffer.”

  “I’ll suffer more if I’m not close to her.”

  Melora’s gray eyes grew misty with tears as she looked at me, tears of joy that accompanied the delighted smile that suddenly appeared on her face. An imperious need to express my sentiments came over me.

  “I love you, Melora, and I won’t let you leave without me. I’ll never abandon you….”

  With a touch of irony, I added, “Until death do us part.”

  We hugged each other, and even Viviane’s eyes started to glisten.

  At that instant, the air grew heavy and the wind rose, growing stronger every second until the forest was undulating violently with each new gust. The fairy turned toward the lake, looking at the lightning flashing across the stretch of water. She frowned, and I heard her mutter, “It’s not possible…”

 

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