Lucan

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Lucan Page 23

by Susan Kearney


  He glanced over his shoulder. Quentin, Brennon, and their armed men were carrying Rion away. Rion grabbed at but failed to reach his weapon. Not even his dragon strength could free him from so many men.

  Rion’s alive.

  Should they go back for him? If they did, they wouldn’t stand a chance. They’d likely lose the Grail, too, and Rion’s sacrifice would be in vain.

  The man from Honor had proved a noble and trusted brother, sacrificing his own safety and risking his life by refusing to dragonshape—all to ensure the future of the Grail.

  Lucan wished he could do something for Rion, but right now they had to find a way out of Avalon. The massive walls and ceiling trapped them. It was only a matter of time before Brennon and Quentin returned with reinforcements.

  Cael’s fire-breathing trick to evaporate water wouldn’t work on stone. Unless they found a way out, they’d have to surrender the Grail. Cael circled down to the floor, making a clean sweep of the interior. Lucan saw no exits. No passageways. No stairs or tunnels.

  Cael humanshaped and wearily leaned against a stone wall. Obviously so many shifts in such a short time had taken a toll on her energy reserves. But she didn’t complain.

  Instead she peered at the Grail, gently touching the burnished coppery cup. “How old do you think it is?”

  “I have no idea.” Once, he would have been certain that the Grail had originated on Earth around the time of Christ. But Rion had claimed it was far older and may have originated on another world. “This metal is an unusual composition. I suppose that’s why drinking from the cup is a shield against death and what gives it healing properties.”

  Cael grinned. “I don’t care if it works by magic, as long as it does work.”

  “It’s going to work. Avalon’s builders wouldn’t have gone to this much trouble to protect the Grail unless it was special.”

  “You think the Grail will save Jaylon?”

  “Before we can help your nephew, we have to find a way out.”

  Exhaustion in her eyes and the sagging of her shoulders indicated she was close to collapse. Even her voice was weary. “Any suggestions?”

  He frowned. “While we were flying, I saw nothing to indicate an exit. Avalon’s builders may not have put in a back door—especially if they built this place to keep the Grail from the Tribes.”

  “If their only goal was to keep the Grail from the Tribes, they could have destroyed it. But they didn’t. My people went to great effort and expense to build Avalon—so we would have the Grail.”

  Her words made sense. “Then we must be smart enough to figure out the clues they left for us.”

  “Clues?” Cael sighed and studied the bluish walls.

  “Maybe we have to do something. Or find something.”

  “There’s nothing here. Nothing but us and the Grail.”

  “That’s it.” Lucan leaned down and kissed her lips. “You’re a genius.”

  “Me? What did I say?” Cael frowned and brushed a lock of hair from her eyes.

  “The answer must be in the Grail.” Lucan lifted the Grail by the handles and turned it around. Beautifully sculpted, the Grail was light and easy to hold, perfectly balanced in his hands. He tipped it upside down, inspected the lip, the handles, the base. And found nothing.

  He peered inside the cup. Nothing there, either.

  Slowly he inserted his hand into the cup, but his fingers were too big to reach the narrow bottom. “You try.” He held the Grail out to Cael.

  She ran a finger over the lip. “Did you feel warmth in the metal?”

  He hadn’t felt a thing. “Is the Grail reacting to you?”

  “I’m not sure. But I have this compulsion to drink from the cup. Isn’t that odd?”

  “There was a small spring among these rocks.” Lucan took the Grail, rushed to the spring he’d sighted earlier, and dipped water into the cup. He returned to Cael and handed her the artifact. “Don’t fight it.”

  “You’re sure?”

  He shrugged. “What have we got to lose?”

  Cael lifted the cup and sipped the water. “This metal’s part platinum. Concentrated platinum.” She stood up straighter. “I feel stronger, but not strong enough to dragonshape yet.”

  Where her mouth had touched the cup, the Grail had changed from copper to smoky scarlet. Then slowly the scarlet faded back to copper. He peered at her. “Is your compulsion gone?”

  “I just want to caress it now.”

  “Go ahead.”

  She ran the tips of her fingers along the rim. And wherever she touched, the cup changed to scarlet, then slowly faded back to burnished copper. “This is interesting, but I don’t think—”

  “Wow.” He blinked. “Did you see that?”

  “What?”

  “The scarlet parts have moving pictures in them, but they fade quickly.”

  Cael leaned forward, touched the Grail with her palm, and released it to peer at a square with two tiny stars at the bottom. “What’s that?”

  Lucan rubbed his forehead. “I think the rectangle is an image of Avalon. These two blinking lights…” He pointed to the bottom. “That’s us.” A faint but glowing green line formed between the two blinking lights and a wall.

  “Sweet Goddess.” Cael’s voice rose in excitement. “Elder Benoit, right before she died, told me to follow the green light. I thought she was hallucinating, or seeing her final pathway to the Goddess. But she was talking about the Grail.”

  Green light pulsed along the line, and a thrill flowed through him. “It’s a map,” Lucan said.

  She narrowed her eyes. “We need to follow the green line.”

  The Grail led them across the stone floor. After several minutes, they had crossed about one tenth of the space, and the green trail on the Grail ended.

  “We’re here.” Lucan glanced around.

  “This can’t be right.” Cael looked right, left and overhead. “There’s nothing here.”

  Lucan handed her the Grail and searched the stone floor. He saw no discoloration. No loose stones. No switches or levers. “What’s it trying to tell us?” He peered at Cael. “You have any more impulses?”

  “It’s more like an instinct.”

  He eyed her with a calculating expression. “What?”

  She set down the Grail and wrapped her arms around his neck. “When Dragon breath mingles, the Grail shall be freed.” She repeated the rune message back to him. “Kiss me.”

  He slid his arms around her, threaded one hand into her hair, and cupped the small of her back with the other. The moment his lips touched hers, the Grail trilled. Startled, they pulled apart.

  Cael tilted her head back to look at him and then she looked past him, her eyes widening. “By the Goddess.”

  Lucan followed her gaze. Avalon’s roof… was gone. They could see the night sky, stars, and Dumaro’s crescent in the heavens.

  Cael sucked in her breath. “Are we hallucinating?”

  “Can you shift?”

  She shook her head. “I’m still too weak.”

  Lucan would have to find a way to dragonshape. “I’ll fly up there, test to see if the ceiling’s still there and transparent or if it’s really gone, and then I’ll come back for you.”

  Avalon began to tremble. Cracks opened in the floor. Lucan frowned at them. “The ground is giving way.”

  Cael stumbled. “Avalon’s going to collapse. Hurry.”

  He closed his eyes, tried to shift. “It’s not happening.” Frustrated, he frowned. “Surely I haven’t depleted my platinum yet?”

  “You just haven’t practiced enough.”

  “Tell me what to do.”

  “Urgency helps. Try thinking about how much the Grail means to you and what will happen if you fail.” Cael said. The floor under her foot cracked, and she jumped aside. “Think about falling into the sinkhole.”

  Lucan concentrated. Sweat poured down his forehead. He closed his eyes and thought about Marisa. He recalled her pain after that l
ast miscarriage. How she’d forced herself to go to work. How she’d forced herself to laugh. And then he thought about ten Marisas, tens of thousands of Marisas, none of them able to bear children.

  Nothing happened. And the cracks widened until the floor buckled.

  Lucan focused on the danger Cael would be in if he didn’t shift. If the soldiers returned, they might kill Cael. Lucan would lose the Grail to earth’s ancient enemy—the Tribes. His mission would be over if Avalon fell into the sinkhole.

  His worry was real, but he still didn’t shift.

  Someone above fired three shots. The ancient edifice slid sideways. A rock tumbled from above, the crash deafening. His pulse leaped. His muscles bunched. Before the fourth shot echoed against the stones, Lucan shifted, and Cael, holding the Grail, climbed onto his back. Fly.

  A blaster burst hit his side, but the sting only increased his urgency. With a flap of his wings, Lucan lifted into the air.

  Shots from the brim above enraged him, and he spiraled upward. Rocks from Avalon’s walls tumbled around them. Soldiers clung to columns and fired more shots.

  Cael cried out softly. Pain.

  How dare they hurt his mate?

  I am… all right.

  Furious energy and dragon power surged through him, pumping him with a white-hot rage. Lucan roared, summoning fire to blast up his throat. And with one throw of flames he wiped out the squad, banked into a turn, and flew out of Avalon, the owl on his wing.

  Behind him, the ancient edifice tumbled into the sinkhole, sucking in rocks, machines, and men. The collapse made the ground rumble and shot a giant mushrooming dust cloud into the sky.

  Take us to Jaylon, Cael pleaded. Fly to Feridon.

  A man of honor does swiftly that which must be done.

  —ARTHUR PENDRAGON

  22

  Cael gripped Lucan’s back with her legs and prayed he remembered to fly level. She could hold on to his spine with only one hand. The other gripped the Grail. Riding another dragon was a new and exhilarating experience. In human form, she could appreciate the power of Lucan’s dragon wings, the force of the wind in her face.

  Avalon collapsed into the sinkhole, and she expected Lucan to spiral upward to avoid the dust cloud. Instead, he circled the ground destruction that had sent men scrambling in every direction. Giant aerial lights illuminated the surviving soldiers, and their armored vehicles revealed their formidable numbers. The troops had a menacing air, an on-the-march momentum.

  Dawn approached, and the sun rose on the horizon. Lucan flew lower. I don’t see Rion.

  She squinted through the dust that coated her skin and tasted like grit. We’ll keep looking.

  With the prize in hand, a ruthless and selfish man would have kept going, but Lucan was risking their freedom as he searched for Rion.

  Suddenly, between two vehicles directly below, a squad of military men thrust another man forward and closed in around him.

  Cael gasped. To the right. There’s Rion.

  Angling to the right, Lucan flew in low and hard. As they dived, his giant shadow announced his presence. Most soldiers scattered. A few used Rion as a shield. One or two fired at the dragonshaper.

  Lucan roared his fury, and flames swept over the military vehicles, but he took care not to harm his friend. Those who fled lived. Those who tried to shoot down the dragon died.

  Cael focused on keeping her grip on the Grail without sliding off Lucan’s back. Her thighs trembled with the effort.

  Below, soldiers slammed Rion against a truck, and one aimed a weapon at him. She held her breath, knowing she and Lucan wouldn’t reach him before the soldier pulled the trigger.

  Hands tied behind his back, Rion bounced off the truck and rammed his shoulder into the soldier, who fell to his knees. Merlin flew in and attacked a second man, ripping a bloody gash in his throat. Meanwhile, Rion kicked the weapon out of the downed soldier’s hand. But another soldier attacked with his fists. Rion ducked under a punch and leaped sideways, his legs scissoring around the man’s neck, snapping it.

  Cael had never seen a man fight like that. So fast. Deadly.

  Fly level. Slow. I’ll haul Rion in.

  But she had only one free hand, since the other held the Grail. Cael didn’t know if she could lift Rion. He was a large man. Even if she found the strength, his weight might unseat her.

  “Rion!” She yelled to get his attention. More soldiers closed in, but Rion dodged, ducked, and eluded capture. Despite Lucan’s constant flame-throwing, the soldiers advanced. One grabbed Rion’s arm, but he twisted free and raced toward the spot where Cael and Lucan were descending. At the last moment, Rion leapt into the air.

  Cael grabbed his belt. She squeezed her legs tight and somehow hauled Rion onto Lucan’s back without losing her seat. I’ve got him.

  “Why didn’t you leap the first time, back on the ridge?” she asked Rion.

  “I didn’t know if you had the strength to carry the weight of two men,” he admitted.

  In truth, she didn’t know, either. Her platinum was so depleted she might have fallen out of the air and killed them all. But she was aware she was holding on to a man of extraordinary courage. At the least he’d taken a beating to give them a chance to get away. His refusal to dragonshape and save himself to avoid changing history was no less than heroic.

  Soldiers below had taken cover. Again they fired upward.

  She gripped Rion’s belt tighter. Fly us out, Lucan.

  The added weight didn’t seem to faze him. His huge wings flapped smoothly, and he rose on a warm air current.

  They’d made it out, Rion, Lucan, and Cael. Merlin joined them on their wing, and Cael grinned. They were alive.

  And they had the Grail.

  * * *

  LUCAN LANDED IN FERIDON, directly on the roof of the medical center. He humanshaped and saw that Rion had given Cael his tunic. Rion offered Lucan his robe, and the group made their way to the rooftop.

  “So what’s your plan?” Rion opened a doorway that led down a flight of stairs.

  Lucan strategized as they headed down. “We go in fast. We come out faster.”

  Rion rolled his eyes. “That’s it?”

  “Is there a way to reach Jaylon’s room without going through public areas?” Lucan asked Cael.

  The fact that Cael had never hidden her concern over her nephew might help their enemies predict their next move and pinpoint their location. Lucan hoped Brennon and Quentin, if they’d survived the collapse, were still trying to figure out what had happened at Avalon rather than organizing a raid on the medical center.

  Cael led them down a second flight of stairs. “We have to take public corridors. I just hope Jaylon’s still hanging on, that the Grail will save him. But…”

  “We don’t know how to use the Grail,” Lucan finished for her.

  “Maybe Jaylon just needs to drink from it,” she said. “Or maybe if he holds it, the Grail will give his body whatever he needs to heal.”

  “We’ll have to try everything.” Lucan wished the Earth legends had explained exactly how the Grail healed.

  “On my world,” Rion said, “the legends say only that soldiers who possess the Grail won’t die in battle.”

  Cael frowned. “That almost implies the Grail can heal from a distance. But we had to touch it to see the map.”

  “I want Jaylon to see it,” Lucan added, “to give him hope.”

  “He needs a universe more than hope,” she said, tension and worry radiating off her. “The Grail is amazingly light, but the last time we saw Jaylon, he was so weak that—”

  A door burst open. Several patients visiting with their families walked by. Showing respect for the High Priestess, the Dragonians moved aside to let Cael pass, their happy chatter dying on their lips. They lowered their eyes and bowed their heads, whether in deference or fear, Lucan couldn’t discern.

  Had news of their arrival preceded them? Or were the patients at this medical center so accustomed to Cael’s
presence that seeing her didn’t come as a surprise?

  Most of the patients and visitors moved down the corridor, but a woman with a newborn baby in her arms approached Cael with a shy smile and only a little wariness. “My Lady, would you bless my baby?”

  Cael’s impatience to reach Jaylon flickered across her face briefly before she smiled and held out her arms. “This is my favorite part of the High Priestess’s duties.” She didn’t actually touch the child’s flesh, since the baby was wrapped in blankets. Still, she took the baby from the woman with a smooth ease that revealed she’d held many babies.

  Lucan couldn’t stop staring. He hadn’t seen a real baby since his youth. He couldn’t recall seeing any woman hold a baby, but watching Cael with the child stole his breath. The baby was so tiny, so fragile, so perfect. Its head was large and out of proportion to its frail body—and yet it looked healthy. Perfect. The infant’s wide eyes looked back into Cael’s with curiosity, and a lump lodged in Lucan’s throat.

  Cael looked… lovely. She wasn’t merely at ease, she looked happy. And he realized that although she’d never spoken of children, she longed for them. But no High Priestess on Pendragon was allowed to have a mate—thus no children. And yet, as she cuddled the baby against her breast, Cael couldn’t hide the yearning in her eyes.

  He wanted that infant to be theirs—his and Cael’s. He wanted to have lots of babies with this woman. He watched her smile at the child and his hearts swelled. He’d told himself he was leaving this world and Cael behind. That he couldn’t let himself love her.

  But despite his best efforts, he’d fallen in love with her.

  Cael blessed the child, then kissed the air over the baby’s forehead. She tucked the blanket tighter around the child’s shoulder, then handed the infant back to her mother, still careful not to touch her flesh. “She’s beautiful.”

  “Thank you, my lady.” The young mother’s eyes sparkled. Clearly this was a moment she would tell her grandchildren about.

  The proud young mother left the corridor and headed back to her quarters, and Lucan wished he had some privacy. But now was not the time to tell Cael his feelings.

  Some moments were not to be shared. Besides, with his flashes, Rion might have already seen some of Lucan’s future. Lucan refused to ask. If he and Cael couldn’t work out the difficult situation and find a way to be together, he didn’t want to hear about it. Better to savor how much he loved her right now in this moment. The future was impossible. And they’d already delayed too long.

 

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