She finally let herself materialize in the cold water of a dark lake surrounded by pine trees, and waded ashore over the rocky bottom. To her right was a boathouse, the single bulb hung in a green metal shade over its door enough to show that it had not been painted for many years, and that the pier that ran beside it was missing several planks.
Ahead of her, beyond a weed-choked yard lit by a sodium-vapour light on a tall pole, rose a log cabin. The big wooden porch was empty except for two old-fashioned aluminum deck chairs. The glass doors were closed and the blinds drawn. But a tendril of smoke rose from the chimney above the unpainted roof.
Ariane turned and looked behind her at Emma Lake’s black water reflecting the yard light back in diamond sparks. It was here, in this very spot, that her mother and Aunt Phyllis had glimpsed the Lady of the Lake thirty years ago. Ariane would have known that even if she hadn’t read her mother’s account of the vision in the letters Aunt Phyllis had kept hidden for so long. The knowledge came from somewhere outside her, from the same place the dreams and premonitions that had once troubled her had arisen. Faerie, she thought. The Lady of the Lake. She’s been forced out of the world, but her magic is still trickling through, trickling into me.
I wish some advice could trickle in along with it.
She looked up at the cabin. She’d have to go up there soon, and face Aunt Phyllis: try to explain everything that had happened, try to figure out what to do next.
But she wasn’t ready for that yet.
Instead, she went over to the pier, walked out along it, stepping over the gaps left by the missing planks, and sat down at its far end, listening to the gentle sighing of the wind in the spruce along the shore. Lady, she thought...or maybe prayed...I need your help.
There was no answer. She hadn’t really expected one.
She stared at the water, and her next thoughts were not of the mystical Lady but of another lady, around whom her world had once revolved.
Mom, she thought. Where are you? I need you.
Like the Lady, Ariane’s mother didn’t answer.
Ariane’s eyes stung, but she blotted the sorrow away by letting her anger rise to replace it. Mom. Wally. Everyone I’ve ever let myself care about has run off and left me, lied to me, betrayed me. Well, screw them. Screw them all. From now on, I look after myself. Nobody helps me...and nobody hurts me. I’m going to get every last shard of this damn sword. And when I do.... Ariane raised her eyes and looked up at the sky. Then, Mom, Wally, Merlin, Lady...then I’ll get some answers.
And revenge, a voice added, and whether it was hers or the shard’s, she no longer cared.
She turned toward the cabin where she knew Aunt Phyllis waited, anxious to hear from her. She stared at it for a long moment. Aunt Phyllis hadn’t betrayed her, lied to her, or left her. She loved her for that. But Aunt Phyllis couldn’t help her anymore. And sooner or later, Major would turn his attention to her...and if anything happened to her aunt, Ariane really would be completely alone in the world.
I’ll call her. When I can. But I can’t stay with her. Not anymore.
She turned her back on the cabin, stepped into the lake, and vanished.
~~~
High atop a condo tower on the shore of Lake Ontario, Wally sat in a chair on the spacious balcony, looking down at the water in the early morning light.
He’d been wide awake for hours, having slept soundly on the flight over, and though he’d tossed and turned for a while in the king-sized bed in Major’s guest room, he’d soon given up. Wrapping the incredibly warm and soft bathrobe he’d found in the closet around his bare skin and slipping his feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers, he’d come out here to watch the sunrise and reflect on everything that had happened.
He wondered what his parents would think when they found out that Rex Major – Rex Major! – had taken him under his wing. Not that he expected them to raise much objection, especially not when Major could, with a word of Command, eradicate all their doubts.
He wondered what the kids at school would think when they found out.
He wondered what Mrs. Carson would think.
He wondered what Flish would think.
He wondered what his secret abilities would prove to be that Major kept hinting about.
But most of all...most of all, he wondered where Ariane was.
He was looking east. Was she even then flying across the ocean through the clouds? Would she try to steal back the shard? Would she try to contact him, phone him, materialize in the building’s pool and sneak up to the penthouse?
Was she all right?
He closed his eyes. Of course she’s not all right, he thought. She must be hurt and furious. She may even hate me. He opened his eyes again. But I don’t care, he thought defiantly. If the Lady gets the sword, she’ll just take it away and magic will be gone forever. Merlin is the one who needs the sword, who should have the sword, who will do something useful with the sword.
That was one reason he had done what he had. But the other was simpler, truer and yet the one he most doubted he could ever make Ariane understand.
He had stolen the shard to help her – to try and save her from Excalibur and the Lady, keep her from becoming the Lady, as cold and slippery and inhuman as the woman made of water they had seen in that mystical chamber in Wascana Lake.
He just wanted Ariane to stay Ariane. But if she continued to pursue the Lady’s quest...he would lose her.
She’ll never believe that, he thought. She’ll never even let me explain. She’ll never speak to me again.
That hurt, much more than the blow to his head when he’d slipped on the ice, even more than the slashing pain the flying shard of Excalibur had inflicted on him when it struck him in the cheek.
But that was okay. Much to his own surprise, Wally found that he didn’t care how much he was hurt, as long as his being hurt helped save Ariane.
That’s a pretty good working definition of love, Wally Knight, he told himself. Have you fallen in love with Ariane Forsythe?
He smiled. It was a crooked smile, and if there had been anyone there to see it, he knew they wouldn’t have seen much amusement in it. If I have, I suspect the feeling is not, and never will be, mutual.
His smile actually widened after that thought, though, and this time it contained...not amusement, exactly, but a touch of pleasant surprise.
Because Wally Knight the Third, erstwhile companion to the Lady of the Lake, new follower of the Order of Merlin, discovered he was all right with that too.
And that, he thought, really does sound like love.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thanks to Matthew Hughes for his insightful editing, everyone at Coteau Books for their enthusiasm, talent and hard work, and especially thanks to my wife, Margaret Anne, and daughter, Alice, for putting up with a husband and father with, as Aunt Phyllis says of Ariane, “too much imagination.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Edward Willett is the award-winning author of nearly 50 science-fiction and fantasy, science and other non-fiction books for both young readers and adults, including the acclaimed fantasy series The Masks of Aygrima, written under the pen name E.C. Blake.
His science fiction novels include Lost in Translation, Marseguro and Terra Insegura. Marseguro won the 2009 Prix Aurora Award for best Canadian science-fiction and fantasy novel.
His non-fiction writing for young readers has received National Science Teachers Association and VOYA awards.
Edward Willett was born in New Mexico and grew up in Weyburn, Sask. He has lived and worked in Regina since 1988. In addition to his numerous writing projects, Edward is also a professional actor and singer who has performed in dozens of plays, musicals and operas in and around Saskatchewan, hosted local television programs and emceed numerous public events.
Archive.
Twist of the Blade Page 21