The Fire of Merlin (The Return to Camelot #2)

by Donna Hosie

  “What bells?” said everyone else.

  Couldn’t they hear them? They were loud enough. Deep, tenor-like chimes.

  I started to stagger in the direction of the bells. They knew we were there; they were calling to us, to me. Showing me the way home. They sang:

  Eternal night will fall upon Logres, and by the touch of his hand and the seed in her body, fire will be revealed and my wrath will awaken the dead.

  Wait for me. I’m coming. I’m coming.

  Chapter Nine

  For Whom the Bell Tolls

  The squally wind buffeted my body as I pushed against it. The bells continued to sing their message into the night, as the wind howled around us. It was so painfully cold, like icy teeth snapping at my face.

  “Lead the way, Lady Natasha,” shouted Tristram, but his next sentence was drowned out by the screaming of the weather. The wind was so ferocious the rain was flying upwards, trapping large droplets in my nose and eyelashes.

  We trudged towards the wooded copse of trees where the knights had first appeared a few days ago, but it was getting harder to walk through the muddy ground. It was rapidly turning into glue with every step.

  Time wanted to trap me here.

  Someone was holding my hand; I didn’t know who. My skin was frozen and slippery, but still the bells continued to sing:

  Eternal night will fall upon Logres, and by the touch of his hand and the seed in her body, fire will be revealed and my wrath will awaken the dead.

  I could do with fire now, I thought to myself, shivering uncontrollably, as the trees finally closed in around us. I half expected my inner voice to announce its opinion, but thankfully it appeared to have gone back to London, where there was central heating and Cadbury’s chocolate.

  Both Arthur and I had battery operated torches. Mine was a weak beam, barely viewable against the downpour of dark rain, but Arthur’s was far stronger, industrial strength, the kind of torch that miners probably used when they were deep underground. It was this light that showed the way, as we wound in single file through the tree trunks.

  The noise levels intensified as the whipping branches creaked and groaned high above us. Twice I jumped and fell back, as a loud crack splintered the air, and a fallen branch crashed to the ground.

  “Is it much further, Titch?” yelled Arthur. “We’re gonna die of hypothermia out here if we don’t find cover soon.”

  The bells were now a crescendo of noise in my head. The words were no longer clear. It was just a deafening sound of bedlam pushing down on me.

  Arms were suddenly either side of me, holding me up.

  “Lady Natasha has taken us this far, we can ask no more of her,” said a voice; I thought it was Gareth’s. I tried to look to my right, but my eyes couldn’t focus. Light and dark and noise had blurred into a massive black hole. The air was sucked out of my lungs by the force; I couldn’t breathe. My limbs were rigid, as my entire body seemed to morph into one immoveable mass. I was drowning…

  I felt the welcoming heat of fire. I wanted to touch it.

  “Lady Natasha awakens,” cried an Irish voice.

  Fingers were on my face; they were warm too. I wanted to hold them.

  “Stay still,” said a gruff voice. It belonged to the fingers. I smiled, and felt the crack of dried saliva at the edges of my mouth.

  My fingers slid out across the ground, feeling their way. The surface was crumbly, like coconut, slightly damp, but definitely not wet.

  I was inside, away from the storm.

  The skin around my mouth pulled tight as I opened my stiff jaw to speak. I could taste metal, and several painful ulcers had appeared on the tip of my tongue.

  I was in a low cave. At first glance, it reminded me of the circular cave where I had first encountered Nimue, but this one was more uneven, rising and falling in undulating earthen waves.

  A large, crackling fire was in the middle of the cave. Yellow and orange flames licked at the wood that had been piled high. Arthur, Tristram and David were huddled around the glowing embers, warming their hands. Bedivere and Talan were either side of me, while Gareth was carving a thick piece of bark with his knife.

  I couldn’t hear the storm anymore – or the bells.

  “Where are we?” I groaned, trying to raise myself on my hands. My weak elbows wobbled and betrayed me. I fell straight back onto the desiccated ground again.

  “Your bells led us straight here,” replied Arthur. “I won’t ask how you managed to hear them when no one else could.”

  “I have a unique gift for the world of freaky, or haven’t you been listening to your girlfriend lately?” I replied sarcastically.

  “Just shows Sammy was right, then,” said Arthur, but he was smirking.

  With Bedivere’s help, I managed to pull myself upright. It was claustrophobic in such a confined space, but sweet-smelling too.

  “We’re in Logres, aren’t we?”

  “We are close,” whispered Bedivere.

  “Where did you get the wood for the fire from? It would have been too wet to use any of the branches from outside.”

  “Sir David collected it the last time we tarried here, and stored it yonder,” replied Gareth, pointing his knife towards an enormous pile of logs and sticks that were propped up against a dirt wall. “A Knight of the Round Table must prepare for any fate.”

  “Proper boy scouts, aren’t they?” I said, grinning at Arthur. He laughed.

  “You up for a bit more walking?” asked Arthur. I nodded, excited to see what was at the end of the tunnel.

  “You walk in front of me,” I said to Bedivere, as he pulled me up onto my sneakers, which were almost dry, although covered in crusty, dark mud.

  “I will protect you from any foe,” replied Bedivere.

  “I just need protecting from bats and birds,” I said. “Saxons and druids I can cope with, but anything that flaps is gonna kill me.”

  Arthur and Tristram led the way. They spoke to each other in low voices, but I definitely heard Arthur mention Slurpy’s name a couple of times. I still thought she was sulking back in Wales, which was fine by me. Hopefully, a couple of months in a different time would make my brother see sense, once and for all. Who knew, perhaps we could find him a new girlfriend? Lady Puke was available now.

  I laughed to myself as my excitement level intensified. Just a bit further and I would be home.

  “Don’t scream, but there are spiders up here, Titch,” called Arthur from the front, and sure enough, as the tunnel narrowed and dipped, a thick glutinous web fell like a curtain across the tunnel. Two enormous, hairy black spiders, with bodies the size of golf balls, reared on four of their eight bent legs.

  Talan flinched back at the sight of them. David pushed him forward with little sympathy.

  “Talan, I am shocked,” I called out. “I’ve seen you take out dwarf-riders without a care in the world. You aren’t scared of a couple of spiders are you?”

  “I care not to trust any beast with more legs than my steed,” grumbled Talan, as everyone laughed.

  The earth walls fell away and opened to a huge expanse of dark green vegetation, which rose high into the starless black sky. A dirty haze of muted colour was just starting to peek through the jungle-like vines, which draped down over the overgrown fauna like thick strands of woven hair. I could hear the gushing of water in the distance, but it appeared to be coming from several directions instead of one spot.

  “Watch your step, Lady Natasha,” called Tristram. “The vines can be treacherous for those not of nimble foot.”

  I soon understood what Tristram meant. A bridge, made entirely of twisted vines, had been stretched and grown between two steep, black rock faces.

  “You’re good with heights aren’t you, Titch?” called Arthur.

  “Will you lot stop worrying about me and look after yourselves?” I shouted, as David stumbled over a tree root. “I’m not some weak woman who needs help with everything, you know.”

  And to pr
ove the point, I carefully inched across the vine bridge first, taking care not to look down into the darkness below.

  “Where is the sound of all that water coming from?” asked Arthur, the second to last to cross the bridge; Bedivere had been the final knight to cross. The vine bridge bobbed up and down, but stayed strong as we all got across safely.

  “The Falls of Merlin,” said Bedivere, pointing the way. “A sacred place that few are fortunate enough to see in their lifetime.”

  “I’ve been here before, Arthur,” I said. “The sound is deceptive. The waterfall isn’t that big.”

  To my surprise, the knights all laughed, including Bedivere.

  “Your world may be full of fair sights, Lady Natasha,” said Talan, “but for sure you cannot deny the wonder of the Falls?”

  And suddenly we were in a clearing, high above the most spectacular scene I had ever seen in my life. Although the sun was shadowed, like it had been covered by a black net, dark rays were streaming down over at least thirty waterfalls, stretching from left to right, as far as the eye could see. Some were magnificent, at least one hundred feet in height; others far smaller but no less beautiful. The overflowing water frothed and bubbled like shampoo in a cauldron, as it splayed down over bushes that were so green, that even in the dark weak sunrise, they could have been coloured in by a child. Two shadowy rainbows arced over the waterfalls.

  “It’s beautiful,” I gasped, walking out towards the edge.

  “But why doesn’t this place exist in our time?” asked Arthur darkly. “We haven’t left Britain, just a moment in time.”

  I felt two arms around my waist.

  “Welcome home, Natasha,” whispered Bedivere.

  And I knew I was.

  Chapter Ten

  The Call of the Red Ddraig

  As the darkened winter sun slowly started to rise behind the strange blanket that covered the sky, the five knights, Arthur and I slowly started to make our way down the Falls of Merlin. Small, narrow stone steps had been cleaved into the rock, but they were uneven and wet with spray from the waterfalls.

  Within ten minutes, a fine film of rainbow coloured droplets had covered everyone. Although I had the longest hair, the boys – including my brother – all had hair that reached their shoulders. Every few steps, one of them would shake their head, like a dog drying itself after a bath, showering me with even more water.

  “Where are we going?” I called loudly, trying to make myself heard over the sound of the nearest fall, which may have been small in height, but was as wide as five London buses.

  “To visit an old friend, Lady Natasha,” shouted Gareth, who was leading the group. “Someone you are already acquainted with.”

  Pockets of tiny, white snowdrops had collected in clumps along the path, but their petals were dying. Other narrow green shoots were poking their way out of the ground, and yet their tips were black and diseased. A strange spring was on the way, which meant the timeline of seasons was the same as the world we had just left.

  Then the earth shuddered, just for a couple of seconds. Everyone stopped in their tracks, as loose stones broke free from the cliff face and showered us with tiny rocks. I crouched down low to balance myself better.

  Nobody said a word, and then another, harder, longer vibration hit us. I screamed as the world shook. I had experienced earthquakes before while living in Japan, and this tremor felt exactly the same. I suddenly had visions of the ground splitting open, and the seven of us falling into a watery chasm.

  Yet earthquakes in Japan were never accompanied by the eardrum-splitting roar that then followed.

  “To the bottom of the steps,” yelled Arthur. “NOW.”

  I didn’t need telling twice because I had heard that roar before. Like the bellow of one hundred lions, the terrifying noise burrowed deep into my bones. A flood of adrenaline shot through my body, as the instinct to survive took over.

  Five minutes back in Logres, and already I was facing the horror of another Ddraig attack.

  I had encountered the dragon once before; I could even taste the memory of smoke in my mouth as we ran, slipping and sliding, down the uneven steps. Fire and explosions and blood, oh God, the blood and the screaming, as the white Ddraig had driven the servants of the court of Caerleon into a frenzy of fear, before snuffing out their lives as if they were worthless specks on the landscape.

  It had killed Eve, my friend.

  “You need to arm me,” I yelled, as we reached a flat piece of ground, covered in shingle stone.

  “We cannot fight a white Ddraig,” cried Bedivere, as we ran across the shingles towards the foot of a long, narrow waterfall.

  “I still need something,” I screamed, as another gut-slicing roar powered through the air. A sonic blast of hot air knocked Talan, David and me forward. I slid into the shingles, which were rough and jagged, and I knew straight away from the stabbing pain that I had cut my hands and face.

  Bedivere grabbed hold of my arm and pulled me skywards. Tristram did the same to David; Arthur and Gareth helped Talan. Both knights were also bleeding.

  “Can we hide behind one of the waterfalls?” cried Arthur to Bedivere. “We’re sitting ducks out here in the open.”

  “What about the trees?” I yelled back. “Can’t we shelter in there?”

  “The white Ddraig will turn wood to cinder and ash,” shouted Tristram. “We must follow Arthur’s lead.”

  Jumping from rock to rock, I took a leap of faith and threw myself into the curtain of water that was cascading down in front of us.

  To my surprise, I did not rebound back with a broken nose and concussion, but instead landed inside a small, damp cave, which glistened like wet gold. My brother and the knights quickly followed, panting heavily.

  “Is someone now going to tell me what that roar was coming from?” gasped Arthur, doubling over, clutching at his knees. “I’ve never heard anything like it.”

  “It was a Ddraig,” I replied first, interrupting Bedivere who had started to speak. He nodded, allowing me to continue.

  “And what the hell is a Ddraig?”

  “We lived in Wales, Arthur. What do you think it is?”

  “Titch, we lived in Wales for less than a year,” replied Arthur. “As far as I’m concerned, Wales is famous for rugby players, Dylan Thomas and Tom-bloody-Jones, and I’m betting that noise wasn’t coming from any of them.”

  “Ddraig is Welsh for dragon, Arthur. A Ddraig is a dragon.”

  Arthur’s mouth opened and shut again, but nothing came out. He looked at Bedivere, who nodded.

  “You’re kidding me?”

  “Do I look as if I’m joking?” I replied, pulling out toilet paper from my wet backpack and holding it to my bloodied face; I passed some over to Talan and David, who looked baffled by what to do with it.

  Arthur rocked on his heels, and then looked out through the curtain of water, that was now all that was separating us from the myth that was very real.

  “A dragon? For real?”

  “Yes, Arthur. I’ve seen one before, I’ve told you this. It killed my friend, Eve.”

  “I thought you were hallucinating. You were actually being serious? A real life, fire-breathing dragon?”

  “YES!”

  “Then I have got to see me one of those,” and taking everyone by surprise, Arthur jumped back out through the waterfall.

  “Arthur,” cried Bedivere, and my boyfriend threw himself out of the water after my brother.

  “No, Lady Natasha,” yelled Tristram, pulling me back sharply as I made to follow. “This is not your fight.”

  Another huge roar bellowed from outside. It seemed to last for ages as its echo became trapped in the cave, where the other knights and I were now standing watching, trying to catch a glimpse of anything through the distorted veil of water.

  “I cannot remain here whilst Sir Bedivere and Arthur are out there,” announced Gareth, and with his sword held high, he also disappeared through the waterfall.

/>   Tristram, Talan, David and I all looked at each other, and then we jumped back out into the Ddraig’s path.

  “Take this, Lady Natasha,” said Tristram, and he handed me his sword.

  “But that’ll leave you unarmed,” I called after him, but Tristram was already running over the stones. He and David disappeared behind an enormous white rock that was shaped like an egg.

  With my heart in my mouth and panic driving my legs, I ran around the rock. The sight that greeted me was not as I had expected.

  Arthur and Bedivere were standing in the middle of a large patch of dying grass that was the size of a soccer pitch. At one end, like a goalkeeper, wasn’t a white Ddraig, but a red one. It was nowhere near as large as the white monster that had killed Eve, but it was easily the size of one of the lion statues that guard Trafalgar Square in London. It even looked like a red lion, just one with large bat-like wings. It was resting on its front claws, with its muscular legs drawn up and tucked under its hide. A thin red tail flicked lazily, as grey smoke poured from its nostrils, and its black, saucer-like eyes were staring intently at Arthur and Bedivere.

  “What are they doing?” I whimpered, reaching Tristram, Gareth and David; Talan reached us seconds later. “That thing can roast them alive from there.”

  But the knights didn’t move. Their faces were staring in wonder.

  “It is the red Ddraig,” said Gareth softly. “It has returned.”

  I didn’t understand what was going on. Red - white - pink with yellow spots? Did the colour of the monster matter? All I cared about was the fact it had deadly claws, poisonous breath and sharp teeth that could rip flesh from bone.

  “Get my brother and Bedivere away from it now,” I screamed, “because if you don’t, I will.”

  No one moved. So, with Tristram’s sword in my hand, I started running across the scorched field.

  The red Ddraig arched its neck and cocked its long snout to the side as it saw me coming. Then Arthur started walking towards it. Bedivere too.