They went on, moving from stone to stone. It was hard, exhausting work, and yet no word of complaint fell from any of their lips.
Adrenaline and the rejuvenating qualities of the air and water notwithstanding, the last few days had taken a toll on Emily’s body, and as they neared the misty shores of the island, she felt her strength giving out. Her muscles ached with the cold and struggle to stay atop the slippery stones. Beside her, Celine was breathing hard, shivering beneath Emily’s arm and coughing a terrible dry cough.
Only Michael seemed at ease. His eyes had not left the distant smudge that was the island since they’d started toward it, and now, as its mist came into sharper focus, he seemed to be electrified with anticipation. He tried to pull ahead, but Emily held him back. She didn’t know what awaited them in those mists, but whatever it was, they would meet it together.
“Jaisus,” Celine wheezed, “they could’ve at least sent a feckin’ boat or somethin’. Even bleedin’ Marianne sent a boat.”
The mists closed in around them, dampening their faces and making their clothes stick to their bodies. Soon, they were moving blindly through white fog, illuminated by the silver light of a moon they could no longer see.
Emily had to resort to feeling her way forward with her feet, searching for the edge of each stone and the start of the next.
When at last her foot touched sand instead of the slick top of another stone, she almost sent all three of them tumbling into the water with surprise.
With a great sigh of relief, she stepped onto the shore and stood there, Michael and Celine shivering beside her, peering into the mist. What now?
“Hello?” she called out, feeling ridiculous. Her voice sounded oddly flat and hollow, muffled by the fog that swirled and danced around them. Nothing happened.
“I thought someone’d be waitin’ for us,” Celine muttered, “us bein’ summoned an’ all.”
The mists parted before them a little, and Emily’s heart leapt into her throat. A few feet ahead of them, she could just make out the dim shapes of enormous trees, hulking in the gloom like proverbial giants awaiting the bones of an Englishman.
“Fear not,” a woman’s voice spoke to them as Marianne had, the voice coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Emily’s pulse quickened. She did not like this. She didn’t like it one bit. “You shall not be harmed. Come forward Emily of the Haven, Celine of the Blood, and Michael of the Dragon.”
Michael started into the trees at once, dragging the others along in his wake. Wherever they were going, he seemed terribly keen to get there.
Emily stumbled forward, and the limbs of trees closed over her in a lush canopy. The air was thick with the smell of apple blossoms and something else—something sweeter.
The mists broke apart, and she could see they were on a narrow path that wended its way through the wood. Moonlight dappled the ground. From somewhere ahead, she could hear the sound of running water. How many fairy tales began like this? Children lost in the woods.
“Come,” the voice urged again, and, helpless, they did.
Damp leaves of branches laden with large, glistening fruit brushed their cheeks as they passed. Overhead, the plaintive hoots of an owl reached their ears as it asked its ancient questions—who? And who? And who?
Michael of the Dragon, she thought.
Celine of the Blood.
Emily of the Haven.
Of the Haven…
Around them, all the forest was vibrant with life. Brush rustled, twigs snapped, and insects buzzed and chirped with boundless vivacity. Somehow, Emily found nothing ominous in these sounds, here in this place. They were right; they were safe. Her unease slipped away like a discarded cloak. This was where she was meant to be. Somewhere in these woods were the answers to all her questions. Somewhere between these trees was the answer of who she was.
The path opened into a glade at the foot of a small, rocky bluff. A waterfall streamed down from the ridge above into a swirling pool of shimmering water.
A brilliant silver-white unicorn stood drinking from the pool. As they came out into the glade, it lifted its head, water still dripping from its face, and looked over its shoulder at them. It shook its head, then dashed off into the trees.
It had gone so quickly that, for a moment, Emily doubted that she’d seen it at all. Then she heard Celine’s slow exhale of wonder beside her.
“Did yeh see that, Em?” she whispered. Emily nodded.
“Come to me,” the voice called. “Come look into the pool. It has been long and long since last we met, and I know you must have questions.”
As one, they moved to the edge of the pool, staring down into its depths. Foam spread from the foot of the waterfall and clouded the pool’s surface, not unlike the mist that cloaked the island. Looking into it was rather like looking into the crystal, Emily realized, and as she did, she saw shapes moving in its depths.
Emily felt Celine’s hand creep into her own, and she folded her fingers around it, taking comfort as much as giving it.
“Why are we here?” she asked, and though her words were lost in the roar of the waterfall, the voice answered at once.
“You are here because you are needed. The wheel has come full circle once more, and it is time to unite the worlds as they were always meant to be.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“No,” the voice said gently, “but you will.”
The water in the pool swirled, and images began to appear on its roiling surface, one after another. They came and went, glimmering in the moonlight for a moment, then breaking apart to form the next.
A unicorn glided with indescribable grace through a forest of evergreen, leaving hoofprints in the clean white snow…
Flip…
A giant of a man with one single eye in his forehead stood locked in battle with a perfectly ordinary knight half his size…
Flip…
A man and woman, both clad in long flowing robes, stood with hands upraised, chanting as lightning crackled from their fingertips…
Flip…
A dragon swept across a cloudless sky…
Flip…flip…flip…
“Once, there was but one world. Those of magic lived in relative peace with those who were not. But then times changed…”
The images in the water gave way to horrible, gruesome sights.
Men and women tied to stakes and screaming as they were burned alive, flesh falling from their bones like overcooked roasts…
Flip…
A man on horseback, charging toward a dragon with a lance aimed at its heart…
Flip…flip…flip…
“The times worsened, and warfare mounted between those who used magic and those who feared it…”
More images flashed past, moving so quickly now that Emily’s eyes could hardly track them, and she was left with only fleeting impressions of terrible horrors.
“And then, a man was born who would unite all the peoples of the world, and bring a return to peace. To that end, he formed the strongest fellowship of men and women the world has ever known…”
The image of a great banquet hall appeared before them, and Emily recognized it at once. She had seen it, with its great dragon tapestry and enormous round dining table, packed with men and women singing, laughing, and conversing contentedly with one another. In her vision, she’d been looking down on it from a balcony far above, and this was like doing that again, only now it swam and rippled with the surface of the pool.
“But the time was not right, and despite all his efforts, he failed.”
The images stopped abruptly, and Emily found herself staring down into empty blackness.
“We, the keepers of the world’s oldest and greatest magic, knew that this man would one day succeed, and that not even death could sever the bond that had been forged between him and his fellows. We waited, and the battle raged on. Soon, it became apparent to us that, though the man may indeed have the ability to unite the peopl
es of the world, we could not know when he would return. And all the while, fear drove men to greater feats of destruction, until we were losing the war, and our numbers dwindled.”
Two images of the earth, one large and one far smaller, appeared in the water.
“And so we divided the world, and we secreted all things of magic into the Haven and left those who feared it to their own devices in the other. Thus, the worlds would remain until the man returned to unite them once more.”
Silence fell while Emily stared at the image of the two worlds that spun wholly independent of one another.
“But we were not united in our cause. One of our number opposed the division and reunion of the worlds, and she left us.”
“Marianne,” Emily murmured, knowing it was true before the sorceress’s face appeared in the water before her.
“She left us and went to walk the world, subjugating all those she found there, and ruling over them with the magic she took from us.”
Marianne’s face faded, leaving only the globes, spinning and separated by an expanse of murky water.
“Stories persisted in the world without magic, histories of the wars between the peoples. But in time, those stories warped and changed until much of the truth was lost. Some remained, if one knew where to look for it.”
Another silence fell for a moment, and then the voice continued, speaking more quickly.
“The bond was strong in the fellowship, as we had known it would be, and the man and his fellows returned to one world or the other, living separate lives of their own, and waiting for when they would be united. And so it came to pass that the worlds were brought together as those who would unite their peoples walked the lands in fellowship once more.”
The globes merged, creating a single world that was larger than the one, but smaller than the other. It spun and broke apart, and suddenly Emily was staring into the faces of Michael, Celine, and Derek.
“Marianne understood that her time was coming to an end unless she could prevent the coming together of the fellowship, and so she worked tirelessly to try to identify and locate them. When the knight, Derek, and the king to be, Michael, began to make their way to the lake, she knew she must stop them. And so she did, and the knight was lost.”
Derek’s image faded, leaving only Celine and Michael.
“And so you brought me here,” Emily said, “to take his place, because I was a member of this fellowship. Because I was—or would one day be—Derek.”
“You were, and will be, but we did not bring you here.”
“Then who did?”
Only silence answered.
“Come forward, Emily of the Haven, Celine of the Blood, and Michael of the Dragon.”
A series of stepping stones rose up from the pool, miniature versions of those which had brought them to the island. They led across the pool’s swirling waters and through the curtain of the waterfall.
Slowly, Emily got to her feet, feeling Michael and Celine doing the same beside her. Her heart thundered in her ears, and she knew—she knew—that the last of the answers to her questions lay beyond that thin barrier of falling water.
She stepped onto the first stone, leading the way, and Michael and Celine followed. She walked across the stones and through the deluge of icy water, hardly feeling it as she did.
She found herself in a shallow alcove, cut into the stone of the bluff. More of that bright, phosphorescent moss she’d seen beneath Hellsgate was here, clinging to the walls in such abundance that it filled the space with a soft glow.
She looked around. What had she expected? That someone would be waiting for her here? That there would be a sign pointing the way? No one waited here, and she felt a sudden desperate disappointment.
And then her eyes fell on a small altar of white marble near the back wall of the alcove. It gleamed in the strange, greenish light, almost lost in the shadows. She stepped toward it, since it seemed there was nowhere else to go. There was a breathless shriek from behind her as Celine passed through the icy water with Michael, but she did not turn around.
She knelt before the altar, and as she did, she saw the words etched upon its surface. With a start, she realized that it wasn’t an altar at all. It was a gravestone.
Hic iacet Arthurus
rex quondam, rexque futures
She heard Celine’s gasp, and she whirled around, a hand dropping instinctively to her sword.
But there was no need.
Lying in the pool, just inside the wall of water, was the most beautiful creature Emily had ever seen.
She was a mermaid. Long red locks fell about her shoulders in a glistening curtain that seemed to capture and reflect every particle of dim light, amplifying it until it formed a golden aura around her; still more light reflected from her tail in a cascading shower of multicolored brilliance. The mermaid Emily had seen in her vision could not compare to this beauty, and her eyes filled with sudden tears.
“Come, Michael,” the mermaid said. “Come and be made whole once more, as the world has been, and as you now shall make the peoples of these lands.”
Michael took a tentative step forward. The mermaid raised her arm toward him, and in her hand was a glistening, silver sword. Its bronzed hilt was emblazoned with the image of a dragon, and in the moonlight it shone as though it were made of flame.
“Come forth, with your first knight at your right hand, and your most virtuous at your left.”
Emily stepped forward without any conscious thought, taking her place beside Michael’s right shoulder. Without a word, Celine moved to his other side. Silently, they each put an arm around him, and the boy reached out and took the sword.
He held it easily, watching as water dripped from its blade. Moonlight danced across its gleaming surface and reflected in his wide dark eyes.
“Arthur,” she said softly. “King once, and king to be, thou art king once more.”
Overtime
The first rays of dawn were coloring the sky above the mountains to the east as Emily, Michael, and Celine splashed their way out of the surf and onto the beach. They hadn’t spoken during their journey back across the lake. There was no need. They were reunited, together in a way that they had not been in millennia, and Michael’s mind, crippled at Marianne’s hand, was whole once more.
As they made their way toward the wizard’s cave, Emily saw a figure detach itself from the shadows and come toward them, its black cloak swirling about its ankles in the morning breeze.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to stay?” Michael asked, glancing uncertainly between Emily and the old man as they trod across the sand. “It doesn’t seem right that you should face him alone.”
“I’m sure,” Emily said. “This…” she paused, searching for the right words, “…is my battle. You and Celine can go inside. Get some rest and…well, explain to the others, I guess.”
“Yeah,” Celine grumbled. “That’ll be a treat. They’ll think we’re feckin’ lunatics, they will. Always the best way to start a day.”
Emily smiled.
They stopped when they reached the wizard, and a long silence fell as they regarded him. At last, he stepped forward and bowed reverently to Michael, his cloak billowing around him like a second shadow.
“It is good to see you again, sire.”
Michael’s face flushed, and he looked away.
“C’mon, Michael,” Celine said, taking his hand. “Let’s see what’s for breakfast.”
They walked on, leaving Emily alone with the wizard. He stared after Michael, an expression Emily could not read etched upon his face.
As they disappeared into the shadows of the cave, he turned back to her, and for a long moment, they simply stared into each other’s faces. Then the old man’s head dropped, and his expression was tinged with something she could identify—sorrow.
“I take it you’ve figured it out then,” he said softly, and while yes, there was sorrow in his eyes, there was no regret in his voice.
&n
bsp; “Merlin? Is that what they call you?” Her voice was calm and controlled, but she could feel the embers of fury beginning to burn inside her once more.
“Men have called me many things. That is one name.”
“And you brought me here, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
“Why? Why did you do it the way you did? Why did you have to keep me in the dark? Why not just tell me what it was you wanted me to do? Why all these mind games?”
“Because the magic doesn’t work that way.”
“It doesn’t work that way. How does it work? What if you’d brought me here and I’d spent all my time trying to get back home?”
His expression tightened, and his face became set in hard lines. He looked past her, out over the crashing waves of the lake.
“You knew I wouldn’t do that,” she said. “That’s why you picked me. You needed a lifetime to pull me from when I wouldn’t have anything really worth going back to.”
He didn’t respond, and as she looked at his forbidding, motionless countenance, a new suspicion began to bloom inside her.
Haven.
Emily of the Haven, they’d called her. But this was the Haven, or at least it had been before her own world had been sent crashing back into it. This was the magic’s refuge from those who had feared and sought to destroy it. She had come from the “world of ordinary things” as Derek had put it, long before the foretold reunion had come to pass.
And the last few pieces of the puzzle fell into place.
Rage rose inside her with terrifying suddenness, filling her with blazing fury that she could not contain, and with it came a dark and depthless hatred, such as she had never felt toward anyone.
“You! You made my life that way, didn’t you? So I wouldn’t want to go back? Did you make Mom shoot up one too many times that night, too? Or did you just make sure she shacked up with the son of a bitch who got her hooked?”
“I did what I had to do,” he said, his voice rising as he finally looked back at her.
“Was Dad’s name even Haven? It wasn’t, was it? You marked me! Branded me for your game! That’s why Mom got rid of all the pictures of him. You made her do it.” Her sword was in her hand before she even knew she had drawn it.
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