As if in answer to her question, the dragon stretched forward its head, opened its mouth and belched. A roar echoed through the clearing and flames shot out toward them.
“I think not,” Galahad said.
“Another few feet and we’d be toast. Literally.” She edged behind Galahad.
He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Perhaps it was another lady who said, ‘by your side but not behind you’?”
“That memory of yours is not going to make you any friends.” She peeked around him. Was the dragon waiting for them to make the next move? She shuddered. “Besides, you have the sword.”
“And I know well its use.”
The dragon seemed to be sizing them up. Probably for breakfast. She swallowed the lump in her throat and willed her knees to stop shaking. How did she get into this?
Galahad stared at the dragon for a long moment, one combatant taking the measure of another. “Tessa, when his attention is fully upon me, I want you to move slowly and quietly to the horses and take your leave.”
“No way. I’m not about to abandon you to that thing.”
“’Tis not a question of abandonment.” He glanced at her quickly. Concern flickered in his eyes. “Should I defeat the beast, I shall find you. If not, you must continue the quest. You must find the Grail on your own.”
“No. It’s not my quest, it’s yours.”
“Swear it, Tessa. On your honor. ’Tis all I ask. Give me your word. Now!”
“I promise.” The words caught in her throat. How could she leave him? What if she never saw him again? What then? “I hate it but I promise I’ll continue your quest.” If I have to leave you, which I won’t!
“In the movies, this would be the place where the hero pulls the heroine into his arms.” She sniffed and glanced at his upraised sword. “Okay, maybe just one arm, and kisses her long and hard before sending her off and sacrificing his own life to save hers.”
“I know naught of this ‘movie’ of which you speak,” he snapped. “God’s blood, woman, at this moment ’twould be nice to understand all you say! But know this: I would kiss you long and hard if I had a moment, yet ’twould not have the meaning you suggest. I have no intention of sacrificing my life for yours unless it is unavoidable.”
“You don’t need to be so snippy about it.” Indignation sounded in her tone. “Talk about spoiling the mood.”
The dragon lowered and raised its head in an odd rhythm, its viperlike eyes glittering with an almost hypnotic effect.
“Go, Tessa, now!”
“Not without you.”
“Tessa!”
The creature reared back and lunged forward, flames spewing toward them. Something inside her snapped.
“And I’m not going to argue. Come on.” She grabbed his hand and ran toward the woods to the left of the beast, Galahad hard on her heels.
“Tessa!”
If they could make it a few more feet—
At once the dragon materialized directly in their path, its head low and on a level with theirs. Its eyes huge and yellow and split by black, slitted centers. Her heart lodged in her throat and she bit back a scream. Galahad yanked Tessa hard against him. As one they wheeled and ran toward the other side of the clearing.
Instantly the dragon appeared before them, pulled back his head and roared. Flames shot toward them. Panic gripped her. Galahad jerked her around. For a split second fire flashed, surrounding them, engulfing and deadly. They broke free, stumbling back to the cave entrance, exactly where they’d started.
She threw herself against Galahad and buried her face in his chest, panting for breath, struggling for control. He held her tight.
“Tessa! Are you harmed?”
“No.” The word was a terrified sob. She stared up at him. Worry and confusion creased his face. “Are you?”
“No.” He shook his head, bewilderment in his voice. “’Tis indeed a creature of magic. We should be little more than cinders.”
“I don’t get it. This doesn’t make sense. Dragons don’t exist.” Her mind outraced her fear. “They’ve never existed. Nobody’s ever found dragon bones or fossils. There’s no proof that they’re real. None. Zippo. Nada.”
“The proof lies before us.”
“No!” Her words tumbled out faster and faster. “There’s evidence of dinosaurs. There are a few species of overgrown lizards like the Komodo dragon, and lots of people believe in the Lock Ness monster but that’s it.”
“Must you question what is right before you? I fear I am a simple man. I see a brute with evil in its eyes and hellfire spewing from its jaws and I have no doubts as to its veracity.”
She shook her head. “Look at him, Galahad. Anything in the knight handbook about this? Have you ever seen anything like it?”
“Nay! And should we survive this encounter I would prefer never to see such a monstrosity again.”
She gripped his tunic. “There’s something wrong here.”
“There is a great deal wrong! How can I impress upon you the very real danger before us?” His gaze burned into hers. “’Tis not the time now to discuss the nature of reality and existence. When this challenge is met, then—”
“This is a challenge, isn’t it?” she said slowly. “A big one.”
“Aye, ’tis at least as great as the challenge of dealing with a female’s constant babbling and stubborn manner! ’Twas a foolish act, Tessa, to try to run from—”
“No, no.” She ignored his reprimand, pulled away from him and stared at the dragon. It stared back. “This is one of the challenges in the riddle, isn’t it?”
“I…” He shook his head. “It may well be.”
“Which one?” She racked her brain. “There’s the peril, the infidel, the offering and—”
“The truth,” he said with a hard, firm voice. “’Tis the truth of your own eyes, Tessa. The beast is real.”
“Maybe not. Maybe…” She furrowed her brow. “There’s something I’m missing here.”
“And maybe ’tis the offering that can be no greater,” he said quietly.
“When the hero or heroine gives up his or her life for the other?” She shook her head. “Too obvious. Besides, don’t these clues have to go in order?”
“I know of no such requirement.”
“The peril, the infidel, the offering…” She narrowed her eyes and studied the beast. “That’s it. He’s the peril that’s but an illusion. There’s no other answer. He’s a special effect. A computer animation. Something whipped up by a medieval Stephen Speilberg. A hologram maybe.”
Galahad cast her a quick confused look. “I know naught of this Hall of Grahme but…” He trained his gaze back on the beast. “You are wrong. He is as solid as the earth beneath my feet.”
“He looks solid but…” She only wished she was as certain as she sounded. If she was wrong, they were dead. Period. If she was right…“He’s not real. He can’t be. He’s some kind of trick. Nothing but smoke and mirrors.”
Like the smoke that drifted from the beast’s snout and faded away. Or the smoke that drifted upward from the remains of their fire.
Smoke and mirrors?
“That’s it!” Adrenaline surged in her veins and she grabbed his sleeve. “The smoke, Big Guy, look at the smoke!”
“I see naught save the tendrils from the creature.”
“No, no! Watch the smoke.” She shook the material clutched in her fist. “Where does it go?”
“It vanishes on the wind.”
“There is no wind.” She grit her teeth. Why didn’t he understand? “Shouldn’t it be going up? Doesn’t smoke rise?”
“Indeed. I—”
“You said it yourself. How could I have been so stupid?” She smacked her hand against her forehead. “We should be dead. Burned to a crisp. The flames surrounded us but we’re not even singed.”
“’Twas at our backs. I did not see—”
“It engulfed us. Did you feel any heat at all?”
“No
,” he said slowly.
“That’s because it wasn’t real. I know I’m right about this. You have to believe me. Everything I’ve ever learned about nature and history tells me this is the illusion.”
“Each has what the other lacks,” he murmured. “My courage from strength, yours from knowledge.” He stared at the creature. “How are we to prove such a thing?”
“I don’t know. I suppose we could just walk away and nothing would happen.”
“A knight does not retreat.”
“I figured as much.” She scanned the clearing. “Throw something at it then. If I’m right, it will pass through.”
Without a word he pulled Guinevere’s dagger from its sheath, hefted it in his hand and hurled it at the creature. The jeweled knife winked in the sun and vanished in the scaley green folds of the monster’s skin.
The dragon showed no reaction.
“See.” She wished she was as confident as she sounded. “I knew it.”
He shook his head. “We did not see the dagger land. We do not know for certain that it passed through the beast.”
“Only one way to find out.” She drew a deep calming breath. “I’m betting we can walk right up to it.”
He raised a brow. “And if you are wrong?”
She smiled weakly. “Barbecue.”
“’Tis an odd word and I do not like the sound of it.” He eyed her for a moment as if debating the pros and cons of her theory. “You are either a woman of exceptional courage and perception or you are a complete and utter fool. ’Tis yet another test for me, no doubt. I vowed to trust you.” He held out his hand. “With my life.”
She put her hand in his and stared up at him. “I’m ready if you are.”
He pulled her against him and bent to crush her lips with his in a swift kiss that would have left her breathless at any other time and even now helped ease the cold touch of fear. “’Twould be a pity not to taste your lips again in this lifetime.”
“You got that right.” She wanted to cling to him. If they made it through this—when they made it through this—she’d tell him everything. True confessions. About her past and his future and the only time they could share together.
He released her with a nod but her fingers stayed entangled with his. He held his sword high, ready to strike in case she was wrong. Not that it would do them any good.
“I hate to tell you,” she said out of the side of her mouth, “but I’m so scared, I can barely move.”
They stepped forward, closer to the illusion. Or to death.
“’Tis not the sentiment a man whose life you risk prefers to hear at a moment such as this,” he said under his breath.
The dragon raised his head, drew it back then thrust it forward.
What if she was wrong?
“Oh please, oh please, oh please.” Tessa squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for flames to shoot out of the dragon’s mouth and right though them, exactly like before. But what if it didn’t happen again? What if this was a horrible mistake? What did she know about a world filled with magic anyway?
Galahad gasped. “By all that’s holy!”
She snapped her eyes open. They stood within inches of the beast’s belly, white and thickly lined with pale red veins. He towered above them. Galahad lowered his sword. Amazement stamped his features.
“The flames, Tessa.” Awe and disbelief sounded in his voice. “They passed through us as if they had no more substance than the air we breathe. ’Twas no heat of the fire nor breath of the wind.”
He dropped her hand and held his out in front of him tentatively to touch the beast. His hand pushed through the skin without resistance and disappeared into the creature. He jerked it back against his chest.
Exhilaration bubbled through her and she laughed with sheer relief. “I was right. Look.” She stepped forward and walked straight into the dragon. There was no resistance. In fact, from this side there was nothing at all to see but the clearing and the forest.
“Tessa!” Galahad’s frantic call sounded behind her.
She whirled and stared. She could see him but apparently he couldn’t see her through the illusion. He raised his sword and charged forward, skidding to a halt beside her.
“Hi.” She grinned.
“Where is the beast?” His cautious gaze scanned the area.
“I’ll show you.” She grabbed his hand and led him back the way they’d come. Two steps and the dragon reappeared. “Now you see him.” Again, she pulled him through the creature. “Now you don’t.” She retraced their steps and once more the dragon reappeared. “Now you see him.”
He stared in shock at the evidence of his own eyes. “What manner of magic is this?”
“It’s not magic. Or maybe it is to you. But to me it’s high tech.” She cocked her head and studied the image. “It looks three-dimensional, but when you get right down to it there’s only height and width, so I’m not even sure if it’s technically a hologram or not. I don’t know enough about special effects or computers to figure it out. I just watch a lot of movies. And this guy’s an Academy Award winner.”
The edges of the dragon shimmered and sparked and without so much as a poof, the beast vanished.
Galahad’s eyes widened and he stared at the spot where the dragon had stood. His voice was unsteady. “There is much we must speak of, Tessa St. James.”
“No kidding.” For the first time since she’d opened her eyes today, they were safe. The danger, real or not, was over.
So why were her legs like rubber? And her stomach knotted? And her teeth chattering? Why did she want to laugh and cry and scream at the same time? Her head swam and her knees gave way and she sank toward the ground, her thoughts spinning wildly.
Adventure of a lifetime, my ass.
Viviane drummed her fingers on the desk and stared at the monitor as if the computer was at fault. Ridiculous, of course. She reached forward, flicked the power switch and rose to her feet. The fault was completely hers. She was far and away too softhearted.
A real dragon, created through traditional means, basic down to earth magic, would certainly have sautéed Galahad or Tessa or both and that would have been that. But there was something quite lovely and wonderfully ironic about employing the same type of technology that had put Merlin in such a snit in the first place to thwart his plans. Pity it hadn’t worked. Aside from that, the blasted man seemed genuinely fond of both Galahad and the woman. Should Viviane cause them real harm, Merlin would no doubt not hesitate a moment to exact revenge. She shuddered at the thought. All in all, they’d lived these past thousand years or so in relative harmony or as well as could be expected given the rather strong personalities of each of them.
Viviane strode across the cavern room to Merlin’s library. Mahogany shelves as wide as they were tall covered the stone walls and stretched onward into the bowels of the cave, fading away into the shadows. Merlin did so appreciate a good book as much for the craft of the bookbinder as the contents. He never thought of himself as such but he was a collector. The first editions on these shelves would have a library—no, a museum—green with envy. Here was Dante, a charming creature in his own right but then Italian men usually were, and Rabelais, Chaucer and, of course, Malory. Merlin was exceedingly fond of Sir Thomas’s Le Morte d’Arthur although Viviane personally had never particularly cared for it.
Her gaze fell on A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court. Nicely written and extremely entertaining yet not at all accurate. At once her mind returned to the problem at hand. Enough of this sentimental nonsense. She liked a good book as well as the next person but unless she wished to spend another few centuries living through the Middle Ages she needed something a bit more practical. Surely, in all these tomes, ancient, antique or new, there was some information that could help her. Failing that, perhaps the Internet would provide an answer. Some way to stop Tessa and Galahad.
Oh, certainly, she could simply sit back and wait for them to fail. The dear boy had faile
d the first time. But she knew with an unerring instinct that it would be a far different story with Tessa by his side. There were, in the universe, rare couplings of souls meant always to be together yet all too often missing one another through the vagaries of time and space. Viviane had no proof but she had a distinct suspicion this was the case with Galahad and Tessa. Such a bond was indeed a force to reckon with.
In addition, the bloody woman had magic in her she didn’t know existed. Merlin had said Tessa had what Galahad needed. That he could not find the Grail without her. Was this what he meant? Magic untapped for a lifetime could prove a powerful weapon once called upon. Oh, certainly, it was insignificant under other circumstances. Yet, in Viviane’s experience, the first use of such ability was often quite extraordinary, producing results that could neither be expected nor duplicated.
Just what was needed to find the Grail. Or save their lives.
Or return home?
Viviane paused to consider the intriguing idea. Could she enlist Tessa’s own dormant power to end this farce and return them all to the twenty-first century where they belonged? It was unlikely, given Merlin’s strength. Still, if there were perhaps some way to mitigate his power or turn it just the tiniest bit against him…Viviane sighed. The answer obviously wasn’t here. Nor did she expect to find it on the Internet even if one could find bloody well anything else there. There wasn’t so much as a single bit on the Web or a single volume amidst the thousands resting on these shelves that could tell her what she wanted to know.
But—a thought stuck her and she drew her brows together. Perhaps the answer lay not in a book that was here but in one that was not? A book with a touch of magic of its own.
Perhaps…
Viviane smiled, slowly and with a great deal of satisfaction. It may not be the complete solution but it was indeed a place to start.
Monte Carlo had never seemed closer.
Chapter Fourteen
“Tessa!” Galahad caught her before she could hit the ground.
“Did you see that? He just disappeared.” Hysteria raised her voice. The panic she’d conquered earlier now clawed at her and she teetered on the brink of complete surrender. Delayed reaction, she thought somewhere in the rational depths of her mind. Shock. Whatever the clinical name, it held her in jaws as strong as any dragon’s.
Believe Page 19